Book Blitz ~ To Hell and Back by Bill Blume

 

To Hell and Back
Bill Blume
Publication date: January 20th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

For one pair of swordfighters, their marriage is worth going to Hell and back.

Ty and Dani are a modern-day, swordfighting husband-and-wife duo who help with exorcisms until a demon kills Dani’s mother and all of their fellow exorcists. Now, they’re on a quest for revenge through the realms of Hell, and killing the demon is just the start of the journey. To keep the demon from reviving, Dani and Ty must escape Hell within seven days and cast the demon’s head and heart into an Eternal Flame. To get back to the mortal realm in time, they rely on their small terrier Wicket to lead them past the demon’s army and thousands of other horrors.

To Hell and Back takes readers on an epic journey perfect for those who believe love can overcome any challenge and that a devoted dog makes the perfect guide no matter where you need to go.

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EXCERPT:

They didn’t drive far, parking on a cobblestone street next to the café, sitting on a street corner. The entire front wall of the café was made up of tall doors that were all turned open to take advantage of the pleasant spring weather. Ty sucked down his coffee. It tasted stronger than what he preferred, but as tired as he was, he considered that a good thing.

“I imagine you have a lot of questions.” Maria sat at one of the tables closest to the sidewalk with people dressed in business suits and hospital scrubs walking by. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over the back of it.

“I’m told you work for the church?” He decided against gambling on whether it was the Catholic or Episcopal Church.

“Heard that, did you?” She cracked an amused grin, as if she’d been privy to his conversation with Barry. “That’s only partially true. We’re funded by the Church of England, but we don’t answer to them.”

Taking a chug of his coffee, Ty then asked, “And who is we?”

“A fair question, and I’ll get to that soon enough.” She paused for her own sip of coffee. When she continued, she stared out at the street as cars rumbled across the cobblestones. “I’d like to talk about you a bit first. I notice you’ve started the transition.”

“The what?”

“Oh, you’re trying to find a way to make a living off that sword arm of yours that doesn’t require a nine-to-five job typing on a keyboard or some other nonsense. You’re going the usual route: giving lessons to wannabes drunk on fantasies of medieval knights or Star Wars. You know. The usual stuff.” She looked at him with a smirk that assured him she already knew the answer to her next question. “You enjoying all that?”

He cleared his throat and sniffed. His sinuses were still killing him.

“I’m paying my bills.” He shrugged, trying to mimic her nonchalance by turning his focus out onto the street and the passersby. Didn’t keep him from seeing her amused reaction to his answer, that she knew he was full of shit.

Yeah, he’d taken to giving part-time lessons at a local fencing club that included saber fighting. Most of the job seemed more about punishing clients into the realization that they weren’t going to turn into Inigo Montoya overnight and that fighting with a sword required both finesse and brutality. Being good with a sword required a killer instinct. Forcing others with limited skills to realize they didn’t have that certain something was taking a toll on him.

“Look, Mr. Faison.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “For some people that’s enough, and that’s fine.” The way she said “fine” left little doubt it was anything but that. “But someone like you…” She shook her head.

He tried to bluff, acting amused and disinterested, but his acting skills failed him again. “You think so?”

The way her expression hardened, that single eye narrowing on him, forced his full focus on her. “I think you’re the kind of person who’s only ever whole when he’s got a sword in his hand and a real fight in front of him.”

She leaned back in her chair again, with all the satisfaction of a wildcat dining on a fresh kill. The silence offered him a chance to respond, but she’d left him speechless. No one had ever peeled him down to his bones like this—not even his parents—not this fast or with such ease.

After giving him his chance to answer and seeing he wasn’t able to, Maria sipped her coffee and then continued. “You’re twenty-six. You used to finish in the top three at most competitions you entered but you haven’t in more than a year. It’s not that your skills or body are fading, and it’s not because you’re distracted by the side work that pays the bills. No, it’s because even the competitions are starting to bore you. Those fights aren’t real anymore, because all that’s at stake there is pride.”

“And what? You’re offering me a ‘real fight’? What is this? Some kind of underground sword fight club, where the loser dies, and the first rule is to not talk about it?”

She shook her head, grinning at his attempt at wit. “This is no game or club. Underground? Somewhat. But what you’ll be doing will make a real difference in people’s lives. I’m offering you a chance to reclaim that fire that ignited the moment you first touched a sword.

“I’m giving you a chance to find your heart.”

Author Bio:

Bill Blume discovered his love for the written word while in high school and has been writing ever since. His latest novel, West of Apocalypse, is now available from Time Killer Publishing. His short stories have been published in many fantasy anthologies and various ezines.

Like the father figure in his "Gidion Keep, Vampire Hunter" novels, Bill works as a 911 dispatcher for Henrico County Police and has done so for more than two decades. He served as the 2013 chair for James River Writers, which produces one of the nation's best annual conferences for educating and connecting writers.

He graduated from the University of South Carolina with a degree in Broadcast Journalism in 1995. In the years after, he worked as a TV news producer, first in Columbus, Georgia, and then in Richmond, Virginia, which has become home for Bill & his family.

You can learn more about Bill at his website: www.billblume.net.

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To Hell and Back Blitz

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Book Blitz ~ The Eternal Flame and The Children of the Promise by PJ Patrick Flynn

 

Christian Non-Fiction

Date Published: December 23, 2025

The Eternal Flame and the Children of the Promise traces the thread of God's covenant promises through Scripture and history, showing how the "eternal flame" of God's purpose has been guarded, opposed, and carried forward to our own generation. It is written for thoughtful lay believers and seekers, pastors, and small group leaders who feel the weight of current events and want to test every headline against the unshakeable promises of God rather than speculation or fear.

Drawing on careful biblical exegesis, historical research, and engagement with contemporary scholarship, it seeks to equip readers to recognize the patterns of God's dealings with His people, discern the times without sensationalism, and anchor their hope where Scripture does: in the faithfulness of the One who calls Himself "the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."

By the end, readers will better understand where we are in the story of redemption—and what it means to live as children of the promise in an age of upheaval.

About the Author

PJ Patrick Flynn is a retired public school administrator, teacher, and environmental consultant. She lives in the Sierra Nevada mountains, surrounded by animals and books, writing in the quiet of a high country retreat.

A seventh generation Californian, she descends from a family with more than 420 years on American soil, beginning with early arrivals to Massachusetts in the early 1600s. From the Mayflower through the Revolutionary, Civil, and World Wars, her ancestors fought for freedom, trekking across the continent over generations of Manifest Destiny to the final frontier—California in the 1800s.

Her great grandfathers helped shape the Los Angeles basin in the early 1900s as it grew from a town of a few thousand into a major metropolis. One founded an early auto parts enterprise that later folded into what became the NAPA Auto Parts distribution system, and was a 33rd degree Freemason and 32nd degree Scottish Rite Mason; the other built many of the public schools of Long Beach—campuses she would encounter again a century later when her own career in school business leadership ended amid the battle over their reconstruction.

That civic legacy extended through her grandfathers and close kin. One grandfather served in the U.S. Navy and spent three decades as an engineer in Lockheed’s Skunk Works, contributing to the secretive aerospace projects that defined the Cold War era. Another served in the Navy in the Second World War and later became a Superior Court judge for Island and San Juan Counties in Washington State. A maternal uncle spent ten years in the U.S. Coast Guard before rising to vice president of foreign research and development for Occidental Petroleum, and a maternal aunt served for twenty seven years as director of research within the orbit of the United Nations and the International Atomic Energy Agency.

Her father developed historic ranches in California and Nevada and worked in Republican politics alongside Barry Goldwater, Ronald Reagan, and Richard Nixon, later authoring two books about his time with Reagan. Until his death in 2024, he remained active in local affairs, modeling a life of engagement at the intersection of land, liberty, and public service.

It is against this backdrop of faith, sacrifice, and civic engagement that she writes today. Politics, corporate development, international organizations, Freemasonry, law, the military and its industrial complex, history, land use development, and construction all appear in her extended family story, providing a living case study of the very systems traced in this book. These ancestral strands—crossing boardrooms, bases, courtrooms, campuses, and covenants—form the soil from which her understanding of global forces has grown, and the lens through which she explores genealogy, power, and promise in The Eternal Flame and the Children of the Promise.

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Book Tour ~ Mountains to Cross by Abraham M. George

 

Finding Life's Purpose In Service

Philanthropy/ Social Justice / Self Help

Date Published: January 13, 2026

Publisher: Greenleaf Book Group

The Rewards of Turning a Life of Success into one of Compassion in Action are Worth the Risk

Mountains to Cross is a narrative of the author’s pursuit of purpose through his transformative social contribution. George shares his remarkable life story and offers guidance on finding satisfaction and joy in helping others. More than a personal memoir, this book motivates those who want to address systemic poverty and inequality but are unsure where or how to start.

Through personal stories and lessons from his experiences, readers can develop their own understanding of what it means to lead a life of conviction and engagement. For social entrepreneurs, educators, philanthropists, policymakers, or anyone interested in grassroots change, it provides practical insights to help them achieve their goals in serving those in need.

The author offers his story not as a blueprint for service but as an invitation to consider a path of purpose through compassion. Written in a storytelling style, he shares his life experiences to provide insights into social work for those who wish to help the impoverished.

 

What readers will learn from Mountains to Cross

• Lessons from transitioning from a high-pressure corporate world to grassroots philanthropy.
• Practical insights on finding purpose in life through impactful actions to alleviate poverty.
• Overcoming adversity to find meaning and fulfillment in life.

Preface

 

Mountains to Cross is a narrative account of my pursuit

of purpose through social service. More than a personal

memoir, this book is to inspire those who wish to address systemic

poverty and inequality but are uncertain about where or how to begin.

Drawing upon personal stories and lessons from my experiences,

readers might form their own perspective on what it means to lead a

life of conviction and contribution. For social entrepreneurs, educators,

philanthropists, policymakers, or those interested in grassroots

change, this book offers practical insights and guidance to accomplish

their goals in service of others.

From an early age in India, I was troubled by the social and economic

injustice that had entrapped an entire section of society for

centuries. Caste-based prejudice and discrimination have hindered

the progress and welfare of the lower strata of society. Despite prevailing

oppressive practices, I held firm the conviction that everyone

deserved a fair chance to succeed and enjoy a life of dignity.

From the age of twenty-one, I studied in the United States and

pursued a successful business career. Consistent with my mission

to help those in need, I returned to India after a twenty-five year

absence to fulfill my life’s purpose I had long sought. Accordingly, I

undertook several diverse yet interconnected projects to improve the

living condition of marginalized communities. I focused on education,

women’s rights, access to health care for the poor, promoting a

free and independent press, and environmental health. As a result of

the work we undertook, thousands of families have been able to break

free from generational poverty and oppression.

Of these projects, I am most proud of the pioneering approach

we took to alleviate poverty through an empowering education and

a nurturing environment for children from a very young age. I was

fortunate to find like-minded individuals who shared this vision and

dedicated their lives to the cause. With great enthusiasm and care for

one another, we worked together to overcome insurmountable challenges

to accomplish our goals. In my pursuit of change, I encountered

both unforeseen resistance and unexpected support from the communities

I worked with, which challenged my impressions of the rural

population. It has been an emotionally charged journey of profound

self-discovery with a transformational impact.

I have learned many valuable lessons over the past 30 years of

my social work career. Firstly, I recognize that humanitarian projects

call for passion and drive. Before embarking on them, sufficient

thought must be given to the reasons for being involved, whether

it be a moral, social, or religious duty. Only if those motivations are

compelling is one likely to devote the energy to make the effort successful.

Patience and perseverance are essential to overcoming hurdles

in social endeavors.

I have observed that poverty is not inherently due to a lack of

resources but often the result of societal practices that prevent certain

groups of individuals from achieving upward mobility. Social equality

that offers fundamental rights is essential to improving the economic

status of those at the bottom of society.

Social justice cannot be achieved when the upper class has the

power to oppress those below. Those who are discriminated against

find it challenging to overcome prejudices and improve their financial

situation. Only with economic strength can they challenge

long-standing practices and attain equality. The path to social justice

lies in economic opportunity, and there is no better way to achieve it

than through an excellent education of young people.

Oppressed people usually have limited expectations for their future,

as they do not know a way out of their predicament. They tend to

believe that nothing good will ever happen in their lives and no one

will really help them. Trust is a rare commodity in those who struggle

to make ends meet each day and cannot think of tomorrow. Social

projects succeed only when beneficiaries recognize the longer-term

value of the service provided and derive hope from it for a better future.

Significant wealth remains in the hands of a relatively small

minority. At the same time, billions of people continue to suffer

because of their deplorable economic conditions. If some excess

wealth is channeled to proper use for the benefit of those deprived,

poverty can be significantly reduced. The most effective use of financial

resources is for enhancing knowledge and developing skills. The

precondition for a satisfying outcome is an excellent education that

supports the progress of children from disadvantaged homes.

I offer my story not as a blueprint for service but as an invitation

to consider your own path of purpose and find joy in a world surrounded

by compassion. Written in a storytelling style, I have shared

my life experiences to provide insights into social work for those who

wish to help the impoverished.

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Book Tour ~ The Making of a Warrior of Light by Theresa Rubi Garcia

 

Conquering Pain to Claim Your Power

 

Memoir

Date Published: December 16, 2025

Publisher: Elite Online Publishing

In The Making of a Warrior of Light, Theresa Rubi Garcia takes readers on a poignant journey through the trials and triumphs that have shaped her into a beacon of resilience and hope. Born into a world shadowed by prejudice and hardship, Theresa's life is a testament to the power of transformation through love and inner strength.

From the dark corridors of her past where she faced abuse, neglect, and the crushing weight of racism, Theresa emerged with a fierce determination to change not just her circumstances but to inspire others to find their light within. Her path from the depths of despair as a young mother in the strip clubs of urban America to a respected entrepreneur and advocate for individuals with disabilities is not just a story—it's a movement.

With each page, Theresa extends a hand of solidarity and empowerment, urging her readers to embrace their own battles as gateways to growth and enlightenment. This heartrending memoir is more than an account of overcoming adversity; it's a clarion call to all who find themselves struggling against the odds. The Making of a Warrior of Light is an ode to the human spirit's ability to heal and thrive, encouraging everyone to rise up as warriors of their own destiny.

Embrace our own journeys with the good, bad, and ugly. Our families will close these cycles. Join Theresa as she shares not just the pain of her past but the love and light that guided her through. You will be inspired by the story of a woman who turned her darkest moments into stepping stones toward a luminous future.

Excerpt

 

My life is a perfect case story to illustrate that no matter what you go through, you have a choice of how to see it. You can view your circumstances as an opportunity for growth or you can allow every horrendous thing that happens to devastate or cripple you. No matter what hell I was going through, I somehow managed to see the former.

This didn’t happen all at once. I cried, became a victim, and then often had no choice but to move forward. By reflecting on my past, I was able to find the gifts that were right in front of my face, yet I was unable to see.

The journey I am going to take you on in this book will include a lot of pain. I want you to feel the emotions, release them, and commit to not feeling sorry for me. This book isn’t to fuel pity. Rather, it is intended to be a roadmap for how to turn pain into power. I share the details so you can see that it doesn’t matter where you come from or who is by your side. All that matters is your willingness to consciously choose a better life and to take the tiny action steps towards what you love and self-mastery, versus focusing on and perpetuating what you dislike.

I encourage you to read this book with an open heart and mind. If you feel triggered by anything you read, please write it down and then ask yourself, “Why did this statement or situation trigger me? What could be the root cause of this trigger?” “Am I ready to let this wound heal?”

  

About the Author

Theresa Rubi Garcia is a global award-winning entrepreneur, speaker, and author dedicated to helping people unlock their divine potential and helping businesses make, keep, and claim more money. As the founder of Rubi’s Positive Empowerment, she blends belief transformation with strategic financial tools to drive true, lasting success.

A certified Mindvalley Coach, HeartMath® Coach, and PSYCH-K® Practitioner, Theresa draws from over 20 years of experience in diversity, business development, and personal healing. She is also a prayer chaplain, retreat leader, and doctoral candidate in Bible Interpretation.

Her signature HOTT Technique empowers others to become “Miracle Magnets” through inner alignment, and when she’s not teaching or speaking, you’ll find her trail running through the Rocky Mountains.

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Book Blitz ~ My Guardian Angel by Mr. Adam Chase

 

Short Story

Date Published: October 21, 2025

A Short Story of True Love, Hope, and the Power of the Human Heart

If you ask 100 readers what this story is about, you may receive 100 different answers—and that is exactly the point.

My Guardian Angel is a deeply moving short story about true love in its many forms, inspired by real life, real relationships, and real emotions. At its core, this story is a tribute to unwavering devotion between a husband and wife—and to the quiet strength that sustains us when life hangs in the balance.

Graham, a Vietnam veteran whose greatest joys are his wife and their beloved dogs, begins what seems like an ordinary day wrapped in comfort and routine. But in a sudden and devastating turn, he finds himself fighting for his life. As danger closes in, it is his wife—his lifelong “Guardian Angel”—who stands between him and the unthinkable.

Set largely within the stark stillness of a hospital, the story unfolds as friends rally, time seems to pause, and love becomes both shield and salvation. Through moments of fear, hope, memory, and faith, My Guardian Angel explores how love endures even when life is fragile—and how the bonds we build may be stronger than fate itself.

Though classified as fiction, more than 60% of this story is drawn directly from the author’s life and experiences. Every word comes from the heart—there is no AI-generated content, no shock value, and no explicit language. This is a story written for readers of all ages who believe in love, kindness, and the quiet courage found in everyday relationships.

✨ Themes Readers Will Connect With:

● True love between husband and wife

● Hope in the face of mortality

● Gratitude, humility, and resilience

● Faith, belief, and emotional connection

● Stories that inspire children and adults alike

 

My Guardian Angel does not tell readers what true love is—it invites them to discover what it means through the lens of their own lives.

If you are looking for a heartfelt, gentle, and profoundly human story—one that lingers long after the final page—this book offers a reminder that love, in all its forms, is life’s greatest gift.

About the Author

Adam Chase – Author | Vietnam Veteran | Storyteller of Hope and Love

Adam Chase is a Vietnam veteran, lifelong entrepreneur, and late-in-life fiction writer whose stories are rooted in lived experience, gratitude, and enduring love. At 79 years old, Adam brings a lifetime of resilience, humility, and heart to his writing—qualities shaped by military service, decades as a self-employed corporate consultant, and his journey as a business owner and mentor.

In 2016, Adam and his wife purchased a failing plumbing company despite having no prior plumbing experience. Through discipline, integrity, and a tireless work ethic forged during his Vietnam service, they transformed the business into the number-one contractor in their county. In January 2025, they sold the company to two trusted key employees—continuing to work alongside them, unpaid, ensuring the next generation’s success. Adam is widely regarded as the county’s “go-to” backflow tester and is respected for consistently placing recognition on his team rather than himself.

For over thirty years, Adam worked as a self-employed corporate consultant, a career that allowed him and his wife to travel the world. One of his most unforgettable experiences was visiting the only wild panda sanctuary in the Southern Mountains of China, where he held a mother panda and her cub—an encounter that deepened his appreciation for life, connection, and wonder.

Later in life, Adam faced significant health challenges, including skin cancer, macular degeneration with geographic atrophy, and ocular rosacea. Rather than slowing him down, these challenges fuel his determination to remain mentally and physically engaged each day. His writing emerged not from literary ambition, but from a desire to put feelings, memories, and gratitude into words—especially for children, who he believes need hope, belief, and kindness most.

Adam writes children’s bedtime stories and fiction, including the deeply personal short story My Guardian Angel, which—while categorized as fiction—is largely inspired by his real life, his marriage, and the people he loves most. Despite graduating near the bottom of a class of over 1,000 students and reading almost exclusively non-fiction and business books, Adam’s storytelling resonates because it is honest, heartfelt, and unfiltered.

He does not consider himself an author by profession, but a man sharing his thoughts and feelings with sincerity. Adam credits his single greatest achievement in life as marrying “the woman of his dreams”—the inspiration behind My Guardian Angel. His stories contain no profanity, no adult content, and no artificial intelligence—only his words, his heart, and his lived truth.

 

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Book Tour ~ Adelaide by Janell Strube

 

 

Painter of the Revolution

Historical Fiction

Date Published: January 13, 2026

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

In a world where women are seen but rarely heard, Adélaïde Labille-Guiard refuses to be silenced.

The daughter of Parisian shopkeepers, Adélaïde dreams not of marriage or titles but of earning a place among the masters of French art. With Queen Marie Antoinette on the throne and a spirit of change in the air, anything seems possible. But as revolution brews and powerful forces conspire to deny her success, Adélaïde faces an impossible choice: protect her life—or fight for a legacy that will outlast her.

Inspired by the true story of one of the first women admitted to the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture, Adélaïde: Painter of the Revolution is a sweeping, evocative portrait of ambition, courage, and resilience in the face of history’s fiercest storm.

 

Prologue
Paris 1793

A column of fire reached like the Colossus of Rhodes into the night sky.

Shadowed figures waving torches poured into the Place du Carousel.

There, a clamoring mob passed wooden chairs, carriage wheels, and empty wine barrels over their heads toward the center of the square. Anything to feed the growing fire.

The Palais des Tuileries loomed to Adélaïde’s left. Its mansard roof jutted into a smoke-filled sky. To her right, the Palais du Louvre’s long wings stretched into the dark. The stone walls of the gallery that connected the two palaces flickered yellow and orange.

Adélaïde had never felt as small and alone as in that moment, between the embrace of buildings, in a space designed to dazzle royal spectators with seven hundred horses and jousting riders. Tonight, the square was filled with thousands of milling Parisians. And this time, she was the spectacle.

She pulled herself up on the tongue of the wooden cart next to the fire. Squinting against the smoke, she searched for anyone familiar.

Not a soul.

Even the donkeys had balked against their traces and been set free. Their distant braying reached her over the noise of the crowd.

Around her, men lurched about, their faces reddened from the bonfire, their sleeves stained purple from the wine they had scooped into their hands when the king’s cellars were raided. The scent of Bourgogne rose into the air. Beside her, a woman opened a dusty brown bottle and poured wine into the mouths of her companions.

Then the woman turned to Adélaïde. “Traitor!” she shouted, and drew back her arm, preparing to throw the bottle.

The crowd took up the chant. “Traitor! Traitor!” Others brandished their wine bottles.

Time slowed down. Adélaïde felt each sluggish boom of her heart, the constriction of her lungs, the loss of air she could not drag into her paralyzed chest. Was this the way she was going to die? Sliced to ribbons by a barrage of flying glass?

She raised her hands to protect her head and braced herself, but then a tall man in striped pants and a pointed red hat plucked the bottle out of the woman’s hand and emptied the last drops into his mouth. “Any Parisian knows not to let good wine go to waste,” he said.

Laughter.

The new citizens of France stomped their feet, shook their fists at Adélaïde, and threw the staves of the wine barrels into the flames. Arms brushed against her skirts. Bodies jostled the cart. She gripped the splintered seat to avoid being knocked into the fire.

The wind changed, and a rush of acrid smoke filled her lungs. She fought the urge to cough. Heat seared through her dress, burned her arms. Her mind screamed at her to run, but she had promised herself not to show fear, not to retreat.

The man in the red cap climbed into the cart. Sweat rolled from his face, and she smelled the sharp scent of his perspiration. Beneath his polished leather boots, the mountain of canvasses shifted. Fragile wood snapped. He stooped and held up a painting, still in its gilt frame. Black paint effaced the portrait sitter.

“Look at this travesty to art,” he called to the crowd.

How right you are. She kept her eyes averted from his familiar face.

“Burn it. Burn it all!” the crowd roared.

Excerpt #2 – 902 words

The Academy relented, and in the appointed time, and the appointed manner, François became a full Academy member. Across the Louvre’s Apollo Gallery, morning light silvered the heads of spectators and Royal Academy members alike. In the crowd, Adélaïde sought François’s familiar form. She found him at the center of the gallery, a head taller than the other inductees, his wild hair muzzled under wig and powder as he waited to take the oath of allegiance.

For the first time, she heard Director Pierre speak of the importance of art in society, its role to teach, to record, to cause reflection, to inspire. His voice echoed off the gallery arches and into her heart.

When François mounted the stage and raised his right hand, her chest filled with an emotion so big her lungs had no room to breathe. She was too far away to hear the words of the Proces Verbaux but mouthed the words in time to the solemn rumble of his voice, knowing he swore to observe the rules of the Academy, uphold its traditions, and honor France through his work for the rest of his life. The crowd clapped as the newest members of the Academy left the platform, but each time her gloved hands met, it was though something she had swallowed had lodged in her throat. What was wrong with her? If she loved him, how could she envy his success? She should only feel joy in his accomplishment. She should have been as relieved as he was when Joseph Vien finally moved to promote him. And she was, she assured herself, but in all the months since she had painted the great teacher, Vien had done nothing to help her. She did not know what to think.

That night, François lay against her breast while she played with his unruly locks, freed from the hated wig that lay like a gutted rodent at the edge of the bed.

“I thought I would never make it,” François said. She was still wondering if she ever would.

“That was the first time I heard someone talk about the mission of art—to teach, record history, inspire greatness,” she said.

He shuddered. “In Vien’s studio, that was all we heard. Let us not talk of it now.”

She wanted to ask him if that was the power of art, if that was the need that impelled them to produce it. Instead, she let him pull her back into his arms.

A breeze stirred through the room. Then their bodies moved together beneath the open window, beneath the summer sky, and the pale crescent moon.

Afterward, she lay watching as dawn rimmed the darkness, thinking how she would do anything for her turn on that stage.

#

Which was why she found herself in Pahin de La Blancherie’s cabinet of curiosities the next afternoon, perched on a knobby sofa, sipping coffee and nibbling madeleines. Pahin sat across from her drinking brandy and smoking a cigar. A square man with the features of a toad, he bore no family resemblance to any royal person who had visited À La Toilette.

Perhaps Ducis and LeKain were right, Adélaïde thought. LeKain had called him a huckster while Ducis insisted Pahin was a great actor.

“If he’s an actor, then what am I?” LeKain had roared. “I challenge you to see if he knows how to play the part of a king.”

She had to admit, when Pahin spoke, his gravelly voice sounded unlike any aristocrat she had met. But so far, his claim to descend from royalty had made him impervious to d’Angiviller’s machinations, so here she was, negotiating to get her artwork into his exhibition.

“What else will be on display?” She eyed a preserved calf with two heads posed on a lacquered table. Next to it, a large jar held a pair of conjoined twins suspended in gray fluid and beyond that, an orange and white kitten with two pairs of hind legs floated in a blue glass jar. It was hard to imagine her art competing with such oddities.

He grinned. “I assure you, the exhibition is quite serious. Intellectuals will travel from across the world to give lectures and demonstrate the latest inventions.”

“Which artists will be there?”

“All the current ones.”

She knew this did not mean Royal Academy artists. “Any other female artists?”

“Madame Lebrun.”

“But—” She winced. “I heard she was in Flanders.”

“Ah, yes.” He drew on his cigar. “Her husband’s gambling debts. However, I already have her commitment. Don’t you see? Having two female artists’ works on display will make a splash.”

She waved away a cloud of smoke while she considered.

He motioned to a sheaf of papers lying on the sofa table. “I will advertise the exhibit in my journal. People in Europe and the Americas, even the French colonies at the farthest ends of the oceans, will learn of your work.”

Thirty minutes later, she left Pahin’s mansion with a signed contract, pleased with herself. She had agreed to give him forty percent of her earnings, not the fifty percent he had demanded.

Back in her studio, excitement built as she cataloged her works. This would be her first exhibit in six years. Then, she had shown two paintings to Élisabeth Vigée Lebrun’s twenty. If they were always to be pitted against each other, this time she would come prepared.

 

About the Author

 

 Janell Strube makes a mean barbecue sauce. She’s also a world traveler, a baker, and a bicyclist. But when she writes, her identity as an adoptee often steers her attention to topics of alienation, erased history, and displacement.

In 2024, a personal essay of hers was published in the anthology Adoption and Suicidality. Her work has also appeared in Shaking the Tree: brazen. short. memoir and A Year in Ink. Her short memoir, “Taking my Blonde Daughter to a Black Lives Matter Rally,” was selected for the 2020 San Diego Memoir Showcase, an annual live storytelling event.

While much of her writing is personal, she enjoys the freedom that comes with crafting fiction. Her desire to learn about forgotten female artists who shaped the French revolutionary period motivated her to write Adélaïde: Painter of the Revolution.

When not crunching numbers as a tax executive for a hotel chain, she can be found hanging out with Shiloh the Wheaten and plotting her second book.

 

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Teaser ~ Just Call Me Pardner by Sherry Roberts

 

Children's Book

Date Published: 08-16-2025

Publisher: Solander Press

A.J. had always dreamed of being a cowboy on his family's Oklahoma farm. Without a horse, he felt like something was missing. How could he care for the animals and help with the farm work without a trusty steed?

One afternoon, A.J. returned home from school to find a surprise waiting for him in the barn - a beautiful little horse named Lady Star. She was now his to ride and care for. From that day on, A.J. spent all his free time learning how to ride Lady Star and caring for her. He dreamed of being skilled enough to ride alongside his grandfather, father, and Jon, the farm hand, during the cattle roundups.

Award-winning author Sherry Roberts weaves a heartfelt story about growing up in the 1930s and 1940s. Based on the tales passed down by her father, Just Call Me Pardner is a must-read for history lovers and those who enjoy stories of the American West. 

Excerpt

“Hey, Grandpa. I got the stall cleaned out. Is it time?”

“Follow me.” Grandpa says as he goes to the corral. There stands Lady Star with Jon. Already saddled up and ready for a ride.

“You have to listen to everything Jon tells you.”

“Yes, sir,” I tell Grandpa as I climb up the corral railing. “Hi, Jon.”

“Hi, pardner. Are you ready to ride?” Jon is smiling as big as me.

Leaning over the rail, I pat Lady Star on the neck. Lady Star is brown with white marks all over. Right above her eyes there’s a white mark like a star. The mark must be how she got her name.

“Okay. Lady Star is a really gentle horse and will give you a good ride. Be nice to her, and she’ll be nice to you, too.” Dad comes to stand beside me at the corral rails.

“I wish I had a new cowboy hat. My old one barely fits.”

“Well, you’ll have to wear the old one for now when you ride your horse. You decide.” Dad says as he leans over the railing.

I push my old hat tight on my head. Grandpa grins and gives Dad that look. You know the one. When an adult thinks they’re right and you have to agree.

I head to where Jon holds Lady Star close to the fence. He tells me how to mount Lady Star from the fence. Jon told me we’d work on how to get on her from the ground another day. Then I’ll be like a real cowboy. “Cowboys learn this way all the time. Especially when they’re young.” Jon gives my knee a tap.

 

About the Author

Sherry Roberts is an award-winning children’s book author. She holds a Ph.D. in Curriculum and Instruction from the University of Louisville. She has written multiple award-winning fiction picture books such as ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas…A First for Gus, Hello, Can I Bug You?, Gabriel and the Special Memorial Day, What’s Wrong with Barnaby, and The Best Reading Buddy. She also has written two non-fiction award-winning picture books, Sonnet, Sonnet, What’s in Your Bonnet? and A Visit Through the Wetlands. These two were illustrated with her photography. Sherry’s newest picture book, Amica Helps Zoe, was featured in Kirkus e-newsletter June 2025 as Indie Pick and received a Get It: Recommend review.

As a former middle school teacher, Dr. Roberts decided to write her first middle-grade novel (ages 8-13). Her debut novel, The Galaxy According to CeCe, is the first book in a three-book series. It was officially released on February 24, 2024. Book two, The Galaxy According to Cece: The Mysterious Dr. Pruitt, was released August 2024. Book three, The Galaxy According to Cece: The Stars Align, released February 2025.

Sherry’s next venture is a chapter book series (ages 6-8). The first book, Just Call Me Pardner, was released August 1, 2025. The series is about a young boy in the 1930s on a small farm in Northeastern Oklahoma and is inspired by stories of her father’s childhood in the 1930s. Book 2, Just Look at Those Boots, launches in early 2026, with Book 3, Just Don’t Give a Girl a Frog, launching in November 2026.

Dr. Roberts has also written many articles that appear in various academic journals, along with three textbooks. Personal Financial Literacy is in its fourth edition (Pearson). She is an associate professor of Marketing in Jones College of Business at Middle Tennessee State University.

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Teaser ~ To Die For by Audrey Steidl

 

Young Adult

Date Published: April 10th 2026

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

 

To Die For is a harrowing look into the life of a narcissist who refuses to take accountability for the damage she inflicts. 

High school senior Dei Fields appears completely harmless, but she has a keen instinct for manipulation. When she first sets eyes on hot star athlete Mika St. John, she’s determined to have him … and Dei always gets what she wants. There are only three obstacles: Mika’s friends, his family, and his girlfriend. But Dei isn’t afraid to destroy relationships to satisfy her fantasies. 

In a matter of weeks, she love-bombs Mika into thinking he has found his soulmate, but when Dei’s plans go awry, everything changes—including her identity. Will Dei get what she wants this time? Or will she finally get what she deserves?

 

Excerpt

        “Why are you always spoiling things? Why couldn’t you have just believed me?” 
        Then the girl charged toward her, rage in her eyes. Marion had seen this before – it was the bully on the playground, the mean girl at the gym – why are you making me do this??
        And suddenly Marion knew that she was fighting for her life. Swinging the flashlight she connected it with Dei’s upper arm, unbalancing her, if only for a moment. As Dei staggered back, Marion glanced at the front door and knew that she would never make it in time. Instead, she headed for the balcony and tugged the glass door open with all her might. At once, the rain whipped against her face, stinging like shards of glass, but she knew that Dei could feel it too.
        And then she began to scream. After all, they were only one floor up from the boardwalk. Surely someone would see them struggling!
        But there was no one there. It was as if Naples had become a ghost town. There was nothing but abandoned cars and boarded up windows – and rising water.
        A tiny, claw-like hand grabbed at her arm and twisted, but she wrenched free. With Marion’s clothing soaked, it was harder for Dei to hold onto her, but she stepped all the way out onto the concrete patio, now slick with rain.
        “You bitch!”
        Marion heard Dei scream behind her and turned to face her abuser but before she could raise the heavy flashlight again, it slipped from her wet grip and clattered to the floor.
        Seeing it fall, Dei kicked the flashlight under one of the chairs and then lunged at Marion.  Grabbing her by the hair she was surprised to feel the old woman fighting back. They were both soaked, their bodies slick with rain and debris carried in by the fierce wind.
Suddenly one of the chairs slammed into Dei, hitting her back legs, and she lost her hold on Marion. As Dei staggered back, Marion moved toward the door, intending to lock her out, but Dei caught her by the wrist.
        “No, you don’t!” she said fiercely, propelling Marion towards the rail of the balcony.  For one terrifying moment, Marion feared that she would lose her balance and pitch forward over the ledge to the street below. Instead, her core held -- and years of yoga and gardening paid off in that moment, saving her life.
        Pushing herself away from the railing, Marion saw Dei rushing toward her like a linebacker. She had youth and energy and agility, but Marion had one thing Dei didn’t have in that moment – her wits.
        As Dei charged towards the railing, Marion waited until the last millisecond and then stepped aside - the impact to Dei enough to knock the wind out of her. Falling to her knees, she was now doubled over beside Marion, if only for a moment.
        But that moment was all that it took for Marion to see the iPhone sticking out of the pocket of Dei’s jeans. Adrenaline surged through Marion as her right hand connected with the phone, and in one sweeping movement, she took it and flung it over the balcony to the flooded street below.
 

About the Author

 

Audrey Steidl is the award-winning author of the romantic thriller The Fallen. Her passion for storytelling began at an early age when she wrote scripts and performed them with her neighborhood friends in full costume and makeup. This love blossomed into a career as an actress and as a producer for cable television.Now, when she’s not writing page-turners, Audrey is a hotel travel executive, a pilates fiend, and a lover of travel and art. A long-time San Diego resident, she shares her home with her husband Jamie and their mischievous Pomeranian Loki. Her latest novel, To Die For, is inspired by those who have the courage to walk away from narcissists and emotionally abusive relationships.

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Teaser ~ Taken by the Lady of the Lake by Megan Slayer

 

Paranormal Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: January 23, 2026

She’s an urban legend. He’s adrift. With a little magic, they’ll discover their fates are entwined.

Amanda Fortune never expected to be left in the lake, but after her murder and subsequent dumping, that’s exactly where she is. She’s become an urban legend, her ghost seen only by a very few. She longs to have a second chance at life, but that’s not possible when you’re dead. Is it?

With the right circumstances, anything is possible.

Sawyer Gibson doesn’t know what he’s meant to do in life. He has abilities to read the Fates, but his talents aren’t needed in the town of Eerie. Everyone here has magic. He’s nothing special. But Aunt Chloe is dying, and she knows more than Sawyer ever thought possible. Amanda is -- was -- her best friend. So Aunt Chloe sends Sawyer on a chase to find Amanda’s killer.

But Amanda’s a myth. A ghost. And ghosts can’t be seen, right?

The moment Sawyer lays eyes on Amanda, he’s smitten. There’s the tiny problem of her being a ghost… but that detail won’t stop Sawyer, even if someone else thinks it will.

 

EXCERPT

 

Amanda wandered the woods along the north end of the lake. She didn’t have much else to do. Campers were around, scattered about the grassy area, and even a few picnickers, but none of them could see her. She hated this existence. She had no one to talk to, no one to spend time with. She missed the simple interaction of being with other people.

But those were the things Claude had taken from her. He’d ruined her life, but he’d also robbed her of her future. She should hate him. Should be burning with the hottest, nuclear anger toward him.

She could be, but why? Would it bring her life back?

No.

She might as well focus on anything else but the past.

Something rustled in the woods and for a moment, she ignored the sound. Everything in the woods made noise. Animals, the wind, water… it all created disturbance. But this one was different. A shiver ran the length of her spine. She hadn’t felt this way since that night.

She ducked behind a tree, knowing she’d never be seen, but wanting a private vantage point to locate the noise.

A hooded figure strode through the trees to the edge of the water.

The shiver increased when the figure leaned over and touched the rippled surface of the lake. She knew that hand and recognized the shark tattoo. Didn’t have to see the rest of the person to know who stood there -- Claude.

She froze, not wanting him to know she could see him. Could he see her? He hadn’t for the last fifty years, but that didn’t matter. He churned her stomach. She clutched the tree bark. The sooner he left, the better.

“She’s dying,” Claude said. “The last one to know what happened is dying. I can’t steal her magic, too, but I can rejoice in her going. My secret went with you to the grave, but she figured some of it out. No one else did. I’d silence her, but I can’t do that. Can’t kill anyone.”

He couldn’t kill this person, but he’d murdered her! What a jerk. Amanda trembled, despite her best efforts to stay still.

“Won’t be long now. She’ll be gone and any last chance of anyone knowing will be gone. The cops didn’t catch me. No one believed I could do it,” Claude said. “They wouldn’t have understood. I needed your magic. I needed to own you. You’d never have used that magic properly, but I could. We were expected to be together because you had to give yourself to me. It always had to end with your magic being mine.”

She wanted to scream. He’d never loved her. Couldn’t. Not when he wanted to destroy her.

“But now it’ll be our secret. You gave me what I needed and you’re where you were always meant to be.” He patted the water. “Always.”

He stood, then adjusted the sweatshirt, keeping his face hidden. He turned away from her vantage point and shuffled back through the woods.

Every cell in her existence screamed to keep away from him, but she followed. What else could he do to her? Kill her a second time? Was that even possible?

She navigated through the trees to the edge of the woods. She hadn’t gone this far in so long. There hadn’t been much reason. Now there was. She had to see where he was going and what in the name of Hera he was doing now that he’d come to haunt her.

Claude stopped at the larger picnic area in the park. A man sat alone at one of the tables and flipped through a book while holding a tablet. The guy seemed completely lost in thought.

Claude, now well over seventy years old but still the bully, shoved the book off the table and laughed. “Stop looking for the Lady of the Lake. She doesn’t exist,” he snapped and barely broke stride.

Amanda stopped short. The Lady of the Lake? There was someone else here? A kindred spirit? She had to find this lady and meet her. Maybe this other woman would know how to get away from the damn water.

“Thanks, ass,” the man said and picked up his book. “Dick.”

She wanted to find the Lady but was also intrigued by this man. She inched closer.

A child, running with a plastic disc turned just as she passed Amanda and her eyes widened. “Momma!”

Amanda paused. She wondered what had spooked the child. She ducked behind a tree and listened for the little girl and parent.

“Momma, I saw the Lady,” the girl said. “Right there.”

She peeked out from her hiding spot long enough to look for the Lady. She didn’t see anyone.

“You’re imagining things,” the mother said. “The Lady of the Lake is a story made up to scare kids.”

Amanda bit back a groan. That was a downer. A fib for kids…

The man looked up from his book. “It’s not a story,” he replied. He closed the book and picked up the tablet. “Actually, it’s considered an urban legend, but there’s fact behind the legend.”

The mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t butt in and scare my kid. She’ll have nightmares because of you.”

“But Mom, I saw her,” the little girl said. “She had dark hair, blue skin and was pretty.”

Amanda ducked back behind the tree. She really had to find this woman. Any company would be better than none.

The woman and her child left the picnic area and when Amanda emerged from her spot, she stepped right into the man’s path. If she’d had breath, it would’ve stopped or clogged in her throat.

He was a beautiful man. Young -- compared to her -- and handsome. With dark hair, dark eyes and a studious look to him. The long-sleeved shirt accentuated his thin frame and the glasses gave him an air of sophistication. He didn’t walk with a swagger, but instead a quiet confidence.

“Oh, my,” she gasped. “Wow.”

“Excuse me?” He met her gaze. “What did you say?”

She froze. He’d heard her? “I’m sorry?”

He cocked his head. “Where are you?”

So he couldn’t see her? Good. She faded into the woods, rushing to the north end, to her safe haven. No one had seen her there in years -- if ever -- and no one would see her now.

“I know I heard you.” The man drifted through the woods. “Please, don’t hide from me.”

She had no choice. No one else had believed she was there and this guy might be looking for the Lady of the Lake. She wasn’t that Lady. She was nobody.

She glanced back and noticed the man. He’d bent over and rested his hands on his knees. He puffed as if he were trying to keep up with her. His bag slid forward and dangled along his side.

“I’ve done the research. I know the story. You’re here. I can feel you.” He stood upright but kept puffing. “She wouldn’t lie to me. She led me here. Told me where I should find you. Told me to find you. I need to do this for her.”

She balled her hands. “Who?” She snapped her mouth shut. She’d wanted to stay hidden, but her curiosity would get her into trouble again.

He sank onto one of the rocks at the edge of the water. “I hear you. Where are you?”

“I can’t show you.”

“Please?”

“No.” If she could have this conversation with him, then something was different about him.

“Why?”

“I don’t know you. Can’t trust you.” It was the truth. Others claimed to be looking for her, but they hadn’t found her. Not the detectives, the amateur sleuths, or anyone else.

“You can,” he said. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, then sighed. “When I was a little boy, my aunt told me about her friend, Amanda. She said her friend was a lovely person and so sweet, but she disappeared. For the rest of her life, my Aunt Chloe wanted to know what happened to her friend.”

“Chloe?” She didn’t venture closer, but the mere mention of the name pricked her curiosity again.

“My mother’s sister. Do you know Chloe? Or Marie, my mother?” he asked. “My mother died five years ago, but Chloe held on. Her magic is fading.”

“No,” she whispered. Chloe had the strongest magic. She should be just fine.

“She told me you liked being here. She said this was your favorite place and you’d spend hours among the trees and around the water, existing in nature. She said you might have even been part woodland nymph because you were here so much. She loved the nights you’d go dancing together, and the days spent talking and mixing spells,” he said. “She said she was never the same after you disappeared.”

“No?” She couldn’t be excited. Not yet. She needed some detail only the true Chloe would know. Something only she could tell this man. “I can’t trust you.”

“I know you can’t.” He sighed again. “Why would you?”

The last man she’d thought she could trust had murdered her.

“She knew about the abuse and that you wanted to get away. She was trying to figure out a plan to get you out of that house without him knowing. To this day, she deals with the guilt of not working fast enough. You deserved better.”

She emerged from behind the tree. “What did he steal from me?” If he knew this, then he’d spoken to Chloe. Only her best friend would remember she never let go of her locket.

“Besides your magic? He stole your necklace,” the man said. “It was your favorite piece of jewelry.”

“Why?” She held onto the tree for stability, even if her legs weren’t holding her up.

“Because it came from your mother and was one of the few things you had to remember her by.”

If she’d been standing on her feet, she would’ve collapsed. “Who are you?”

“Sawyer Gibson.” He stood and held out his hand. “I don’t know where you are, but I hear you and I want to see you. I want to help you.”

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

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