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Come Back by Sally Crosiar Book Blitz & Giveaway

7/26/2018

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Contemporary/Upmarket/Women’s Fiction

Date Published: September 2017

Vi Masters wonders…can you come home again? More, she wonders why anyone would want to. She fled upright, backwater Freedom, Iowa at seventeen and hoped never to return. But this time, she can’t stand up against the pleas of the aunt who raised her. It’s one weekend. How bad can three days be?

Three measly days in a wonderful eighteen-year marriage – that’s what Vi’s stepmother hopes. But what if Ben discovers what Tammy knew about why his daughter ran away – something he seems determined to finally find out? She can’t be sure Ben would forgive her, and that’s got Tammy scared to her bones.

One day in and Vi has to face how Aunt Sadie is failing, Caregiving will surely wreak havoc on Vi’s hard-won career, but how can she not? At least she might be able to turn the party Sadie’s planned into a night even Alzheimer’s won’t let Sadie forget.

But that’s before Vi finds out Nate Barlow has moved back to town. Now after all she’s already survived, Vi must dig deep for courage. Nate will never be able to accept Vi’s past. Will he? Who knew hope would be so scary?

Excerpt

Chapter 12

Nate

I figured I’d chat with Victoria at Sadie’s shindig Saturday and leave it at that. So it caught me off guard when she showed up for a Pinewood breakfast Friday. Makes sense, I thought. Sadie wanted to show her off. Not because she was famous, but because she doted on Victoria, always had.

So why was I surprised? And worse, why did it feel like a punch in the gut?

Chill, I thought as my ears went hot. No biggie. I had famous clients. Got tongue-tied with the first few, but as my dealer says, they all put their underwear on one leg at a time. But picturing Vi Masters in underwear didn’t help at all.

It felt like seventh grade. I wasn’t prepared then either. The guys had ragged on me something fierce – those days when all girls had cooties – which meant I stopped hanging with her a few years before. So when she walked into school that fall, I hardly knew her. When did she get so tall and willowy? With these subtle curves that set my imagination reeling? Why hadn’t I ever noticed her eyes were like the river at sunset?

From then on, she was Victoria, not Vicky, not Vee, like I called her when we were kids. Sexy, sultry, worthy-of-worship Victoria. And from then on, my damn ears and tongue were an adolescent nightmare whenever I came within ten feet of her. Smooth, that’s what I was.

Find your smooth now Slick, I thought as she moved toward my end of the counter.

I had more than a few minutes to get myself under control. Every last customer – Dick the retired trucker, George the retired math teacher, Mrs. Briggs and about a dozen more – wanted to shake her hand and have a word.

Working the room, I thought. Like a gallery opening. Coffee instead of wine.

I watched her smile and chat her way through the crowd. A pat on the arm here, a question there, a compliment on Miss Harriet Blue’s tacky old sweater, one I remembered from piano lessons. Miss Harriet puffed right up. She’ll likely go to her grave in that sweater now.

Mrs. Briggs got most of Victoria’s time. No surprise there. Even before we could read, the library was her favorite haunt. Worked there senior year – when she wasn’t bussing tables here at the Pinewood. So it was my haunt too.

That year I finally started acting human around her. Made conversation, joked around. Took till prom before I got the nerve to ask her out. She about knocked me flat when she said, “We’ll have a better time on prom night, don’t you think, if we go to a movie or something the night before?”

Long time ago. I jerked back to the present as Sadie tugged Victoria to the counter.

“Connie, just look at my Vicky.” She giggled as only Sadie can. “Vi, I mean. Oh, I’ll never get used to it.” Sadie turned from Victoria to Ma, “Doesn’t she look wonderful? I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to see my baby again!”

Up close, seventh grade memories didn’t hold a candle to this gorgeous creature.

“Connie, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “The Pinewood wouldn’t be the same without you. And you look better than ever.” Actress or no, she sounded like she meant it.

Victoria reached out to squeeze Ma’s shoulder – a simple greeting between old friends – but Ma pulled back, slammed the coffee pot down on the counter, and said, “Victoria Johansen – Vi Masters – whatever you call yourself – I always did like you. But I have a mammoth-sized bone to pick with you!”

Obviously not the greeting Ms. Hollywood expected. A calm veneer slid over her face fast as a lick, but like most painters, I notice things. Her hand dropped to the strap of her handbag, white fingers gripped tight. No wonder. Ma can be a scary lady.

“Do you have any idea what you put my boy through when you ran off?”

I tried to interrupt. “Ma. Let it be.”

She gave me the eye. “I will not. She ought to know what it was like for you to get hauled down to the police station. As if you knew where the silly girl went.” Ma wheeled back to Victoria. “And your father! Son of a bitch hit my boy! Blackened his eye. Worse, he made my Nate feel like a criminal, like he’d hurt you, or drove you away when anybody – anybody with a brain not up his butt – could see the only bad thing Nate ever did was fall for you.”

So much for calm veneer. Victoria’s face went white beneath her California tan, and I respected the maker of that handbag strap. She swallowed hard. Her eyes cut to me for the first time, then back to Ma. She opened her mouth, but it was clear she didn’t know what to say, where to begin.

Ma, on the other hand, still had plenty to say. Or would have, except I interrupted again.

“Ma. She didn’t know. Look at her face. How could she know? Let it be.”

“Well she ought to know.” Ma wasn’t done, but she was running down. Ma’s like that. The woman has a mighty temper. But when she’s said her piece, it’s done. Usually. “You left a mess for other people to clean up, missy, and you ought to know it!” Then, apparently satisfied she’d said what she needed to say, Ma picked up the coffee pot with her right hand, swung her left around for a mug, and said. “Now. How do you take your coffee?”

Victoria sank onto a stool, looked at Ma, at me. “Connie. Nate. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I…” She swallowed hard again. “I didn’t know. Didn’t think… Oh God. I wish… I’m just so sorry.”

I decided to let her off the hook. “Long time ago. We survived. And so did you, I’m glad to see.”

“Nate. Nate Barlow.” Like she saw me for the first time. “You’re still here. You look…”

I grinned. “Yeah. I know. Like an aging hippy. I get that all the time.” I tugged on my ponytail. “You wouldn’t believe the grief I get from the Freedom Regulars.”

She smiled – less assured, less sparkling than the Hollywood smile she’d dished out on her way down the counter. Softer. A little rueful. A lot like the night I kissed her. “I’ll just bet. Didn’t we always say that the Freedom Regulars would never change? But that’s not what I was going to say. You look good. That’s what I was going to say. Good.”

“Ah, hell. I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Can’t stay mad at you.”

Her smile faded. “Oh Nate. I am sorry. So sorry. I never thought Ben would come after you. Hit you? Oh Nate.”

I waved her off. “No biggie. It wasn’t my first black eye. Or my last for that matter. Can’t pin Ben’s actions on you. Wouldn’t be mad at you for that. If I could.”

The smile was nearly back. “Okay. I’ll bite. Why would you be mad at me? If you could?”

I picked up my coffee. Took a long swallow. Milked the moment. “The prom. You stood me up. For the prom.”

I said it lightly. Like it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Back then? Stood up on prom night? Suspected of something awful. Not the best night of my life.

Now trumps then. I expected a snappy comeback like she zings on TV, but she seemed as much at a loss for words as during Ma’s rant. An odd cast shaded her eyes. Almost like…sorrow. I cut her a break.

“Even so, can’t seem to stay mad at you.”

Funny how the relief on her face made me feel easier too.

“I’m glad,” she said.

Watch yourself pal.

Ma came back with the coffee pot. And a smile. She can’t stay mad either. Just don’t get between her and her cub. As if you could.

“More coffee, you two? Crayons, coloring books? Legos?”

Victoria’s laugh came out low and husky. “Just like when we were kids, Connie? In the back booth? Waiting for you and Sadie to close up? That’s a good memory.”

“For me too,” Ma said. “For half the town, I’ll wager. You two were good for business. Got folks to dig deeper in their pockets.”

“Good old Pinewood.” Victoria looked around the diner. “So much the same. But different too. Brighter than I remember. And those wonderful drawings! Those are new.” She gestured to the framed caricatures that lined the walls. “The Freedom Regulars!” She grinned.

“Those are Nate’s. He’s a very successful artist, you know. He’s had shows in New York, London, all over.”

“Ma. Stop bragging.” My damn ears went hot again.

“Nate! Really? These are yours?”

I nodded.

“They’re wonderful! So fun! So…real.”

Funny. That’s what I was going for. To poke fun – gently – at folks, and still show I like them. Each one has hopes and dreams and sorrows – all important, all real.

“Nate did well up at Ames, even studied in Paris.” Ma came around the counter to stand behind me, hands on my shoulders. A united front. I let Victoria off the hook, but Ma wasn’t quite done with her. “He was gone a long time. I thought maybe he’d stay in New York City, he did so well there. I’m sure glad to have him home though.”

Victoria got the message. “Connie. I really am sorry for…what happened after I left. I wouldn’t have brought on trouble for you or Nate. Not if I could help it.”

“And you couldn’t help it then?”

Victoria studied the inside of her coffee mug.

Ma persisted. “So you’re not telling why you put us through that?”

“Ma. Give the girl a break.”

“No harm asking, is there?”

But there was. I could see it in Victoria’s eyes.

“No.” She said it quietly, dropped her eyes, then raised and leveled them at Ma first, then me. “I had…reasons. Good reasons. Private reasons.”

I know Ma. She wasn’t satisfied. If she chose, Ma could wear you down till you’d confess crimes you never committed. But this time, she only gave Victoria the eye. And when that didn’t produce answers, Ma nodded, and said, “All right then. We’ll leave it at that.”

“Guess she can’t stay mad at you either,” I said.

“I hope that’s true.” She paused. “Friends?”

“Friends,” I said.

Ma nodded. “Friends.”

“Just like that?” Her voice was light but there was effort behind it. The handbag strap wasn’t out of danger yet.

Ma and I glanced at each other and shrugged.

“Just like that,” I said.

“Once a friend, always a friend,” Ma said.

“Thank you.” She blinked, seemed about to say something, but gave her head a tiny shake. She gave us both a bright smile – still sincere, but somehow not quite so personal. Like she pulled on a cape of Hollywood bravado. She glanced over to where Sadie was in full chat with Miss Harriet Blue and said, “I hope maybe you can help me with something.”

What now?

Victoria leaned toward Ma. “Connie. You’ve known Sadie a long time. You see her as much as anybody. How’s she doing?”

“Well… Now honey, you know your aunt is an old friend. A good friend.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“Well…”

“What Ma’s trying not to say is that Sadie never was the sharpest crayon in the box.”

Victoria smiled. A sad smile this time and a nod. “Oh, I know. She’s a dear, sweet woman, and I love her. But she’s always been a little…dizzy. What I want to know is…well, is she getting dizzier?”

I was surprised to see Ma’s eyes fill. She grabbed a napkin, turned toward the wall, dabbed. “Damn, damn, damn.”

“Ma? You okay?” Nobody gets between the cub and his mama either.

I saw her shoulders square like they do before she tackles any hard thing like pull a splinter from my finger or face down Ben Johansen. She nodded. “She’s slipping. Not a lot. Not enough so most people notice. But she gets confused. More now. Carleen and I, we’ve been picking up the slack.” She gave a little grin. “Not exactly new. More this last year.”

Victoria nodded and studied her coffee again. And then, damned if her shoulders didn’t square up just like Ma’s. She looked up. “I’m not surprised. Afraid and sad and…royally pissed off. But not surprised.” She paused. “How long can you keep covering for her, Connie?”

“As long as she’s able to get here. To stand upright, to walk. As long as she stays…docile and will follow directions. If it gets to the point when she fights us, well… Then it won’t be good for her to be here. For her – or for us. Till then…” There went the shoulders again. “We’ve got her back.” This was no off-the-cuff response. Ma’d given it considerable thought.

Victoria nodded. “Thank you. I needed to know.” She looked my way. “Nate?”

“Can’t say I’ve noticed much. Not job-related. But…” I didn’t want to say any more than Ma had. “She’s not as careful with her hair as she used to be.”

“Her hair?” I caught the tone. The surprise. And the speculation. Not the first time.

“No, I’m not gay,” I said. “I’m a painter. I notice things.”

Ma looked at Victoria. “I raised a boy who notices a woman’s hair. I’m so proud.”

She is. I know it and she knows I know it. Won’t stop her pulling my chain though. The two of them laughed – till they had to grab and dab. Which was fun to see.

Sadie left Miss Harriet Blue and joined us at the counter with a look that said, “I know there was a joke here. I know I won’t get it. But I like to laugh too.” Classic Sadie. Out loud she said, “Vicky, honey, I’ve got my hair appointment.” Poor Sadie. “What’s so funny?”

Victoria smothered a laugh before she kissed Sadie’s cheek. “You go ahead. I’ll walk over to Lindy’s and meet you. Half an hour?”

“Okey dokey!” Sadie bounced toward the door.

As soon as she was out of sight, Victoria said, “I want to do something for her. Something that will matter later, when… Later. I could use your help. It’s about tomorrow night’s party.” Ma and I listened as Victoria told us what she wanted to cook up.

About the Author

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Sally Crosiar lives in the Finger Lakes of New York State where she reads incessantly, enjoys time in and on the water, savors dark chocolate with red wine at every opportunity, and teaches about health and play for Empire State College. She is the author of Find the Love of Your Life, based on her own true story, My Uncle Dave, a children’s book with an adult message, and co-author with Dr. Sidney B. Simon of Love Builders: Tools to Build Every Relationship. Come Back is her debut novel.

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The Unexpected Wife by Caroline Warfield Release Blitz & Giveaway

7/25/2018

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Historical Romance

Date Published: July 25, 2018

When the Duke of Murnane accepts an unofficial fact finding mission to Canton on behalf of the queen in 1838 he expects work to heal him. He certainly doesn’t expect to confront his wreck of a marriage in such an exotic locale, or to find the love of his life. Zambak Hayden follows her brother to China to escape pressure to make a suitable marriage. When she finds the brother drawn into the world of greed, smuggling, opium, and corruption she resolves to both sort out the truth and to protect her brother from becoming prey to all of it—if only she could stop yearning for the one man she can’t have. Can love survive when troubles and war explode around them?

Excerpt

“Don’t go honorable and protective on me, Charles. I know what I want,” she sputtered, grabbing his lapels and snuggling her nose into his shoulder.

“That fills me with more joy than I can explain, Zambak,” he said. He stood, pulling her with him, and turned her outward to face the shore while he put his arms around her waist to hold her loosely from behind. “You aren’t so naïve that you can’t tell how badly I want you,” he whispered in her ear.

Smug and filled with triumph, she spoke without thinking. “I know. I fear I’ve tumbled entirely in love with you, Charles. It is new and precious and—” She sank her head back against him. She felt safe in his arms, yet frustrated. When she wriggled free to face him, he held her at arms length, one hand on each arm.

“You don’t understand what you’re suggesting,” he said.

“Perhaps not entirely, but I’m eager to find out. We can manage this thing between us. I know we can. For now—”

“For now, nothing. Listen to me, dear one.”

Dear one. She felt her smile fill her down to her toes. She sank back on her heels and studied his face, grave in the moonlight.

“You’ve told me over and over again you do not wish to marry,” he reminded her.

“Maybe I was wrong. I don’t wish marriage as dictated by rank and land and the rest. Or maybe I don’t need marriage. There’s Julia in any case and—and I’m jumping ahead.”

He smiled then and loosed his grip, taking a step away. “You certainly are, and I’m making a mull of it.” He reached out a hand to cup her cheek. “Lady Zambak Hayden, I find that I have also tumbled into this maelstrom. I love your brilliant mind and unbounded courage. Your lovely body drives me mad, as you will have noticed. But—”

She growled deep in her throat. Always a “but.” She put a finger to his lips, but he shook his head, and removed his hand from her face.

“Listen to me. You may not believe in marriage, but you deserve no less than my total commitment. I am a married man, who can’t make his addresses with any honor.”

“I thought you and Julia had an agreement,” she reminded him.

“We do. But Julia’s word is always questionable, making any agreement equally questionable. Divorce is tedious and difficult at best, ugly and scandal-ridden at worst. When it’s done, she will have shredded my good name.”

“I know you. I know better. I don’t care.” She didn’t. She couldn’t believe he’d think otherwise.

His smile held infinite sadness. “Your father will care, and your mother wants more for you than a man eleven years your senior with an ugly past.”

“Piffle. Even if that is true—and I doubt it, because they know you. They know what you’re made of—I am of age. They will have to accept it, because I will defy whatever they might do to stop me.”

“Yes, you would,” he replied with a sigh. “You defy them in many things, and it seems to fall to me to keep you out of trouble.”

He reached over and took her right hand between both of his. “Very well, Lady Zambak Hayden, will you—”

She tried to throw herself into his arms, but he held her back. “Wait. Listen to what I’m asking. Will you wait for me to be free? Will you wait as long as it takes to extricate myself from my joke of a marriage so I can come to you honorably and make my offer?”

She sank back, subdued. “I don’t want to wait.” Stony features looked implacably back for a long moment until she gave in. “But I will if you give me no choice, because I promise you this, Charles: there is no other man but you and never will be. I love you.”

His eyes bore into hers. “I won’t hold you to it, Zambak, but I love you for saying it.” He kissed her then—a fierce caress that battered her soul with the enormity of his feelings—stepped away and bowed. “Now I will join the crew on the quarterdeck for both our sakes, since you will not go below.”

He left her in the moonlight, cold and alone, but with hope firmly set in her heart.

About the Author

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Award-winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

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Blessings of Luna by Blaise Ramsay Blog Tour & Giveaway

7/25/2018

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New Adult Paranormal Romance

Date Published: 4/20/2018

Publisher: FyreSyde Publishing

Lonely. That's how it felt when Damien Pierce returned to Big Timber, Montana. It had been his childhood home until the day he was hit by a speeding car only to learn he wasn't badly hurt. The experience landed him the label of the town freakshow.

Following the death of his foster mom, Damien soon disconnected from the world around him. That was at least, until he met her. She looked human but something about made her appear otherworldly to him. He knew he shouldn't but he wanted her. He would do anything to get to know her. To have her.

Jillian Styles was immortal. Cursed by a dark god never to find rest. A shifter capable of taking the form of a beautiful wolf. She had searched for her lover's reincarnated soul for centuries only to find he was nowhere to be found. When she meets Damien, her world is turned upside down. She falls in love with him instantly and begins to pursue him.

However, Damien soon learns the darker part of Jill's world. He finds himself on the hit list of the same vampire Lord responsible for killing Jill's lover and reigniting the flames of an old war. His daughter desires Damien and vows to have him at any cost.

With the help of Alexander Kain, the mysterious wolf shifting soldier, Damien will learn what he thought he knew was only tip of the paranormal iceberg. He soon finds himself in the eyes of a vindictive and rage-filled dark god.

If you like hot lycanthrope guys, overly possessive vampire chicks, vindictive gods, strong female leads and some hot sex scenes, this book is for you.

About the Author

FyreSyde Publishing owner and founder Blaise Ramsay started out her creative career in the conceptual art and design industry. For fifteen years she spent her time crafting characters and world for others. Recently she shifted her attention to the world of literature where she writes mostly paranormal romance. Her debut title, Blessing of Luna is the first of four books in the Wolfgods series. A portion of the proceeds of her book sales go to help charities. When Blaise isn't busy working with sexy wolf boys, she can be found reviewing books for fellow authors, working for a few tour companies, holding interviews and offering guest posts. A professional book blogger, mom, wife and full blood Texan, Blaise loves nothing more than helping others, meeting new people and coaching folks in Scrivener. If you would like to get in touch with Blaise, the best way to contact her would be via email at bramsayauthor@gmail.com. She loves to hear from people and get questions from her readers.

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“Bestseller” Doesn’t Have to Mean Best Seller
Guest Post

“Bestseller”

That little orange star-bursting banner many authors strive to reach in Amazon’s ever growing sea of book titles. What makes this particular status so appealing? Is it an increase in book sales, reviews or maybe just the notoriety? Does it validate us in a way?

To understand why this status is so sought by authors, we need to know what it is.

This is what Amazon says about its best-seller categories:

“The Amazon Best Sellers calculation is based on Amazon.com sales and is updated hourly to reflect recent and historical sales of every item sold on Amazon.com.”

Basically, it is how well a product is performing as far as sales on an hourly basis. HOWEVER, Amazon goes on to say:
“While the Amazon Best Sellers list is a good indicator of how well a product is selling overall, it doesn’t always indicate how well an item is selling among other similar items. Category and subcategory best seller lists were created to highlight an item’s rank in the categories or subcategories where it really stands out.”

So, while the title “bestseller” is indeed an honor to obtain since it does affect sales, it is not always an accurate indication of how well a product is doing overall.

Why? Well, see what Amazon itself says:

“We choose a few of the most popular subcategories in which the item has a high ranking in relation to other items in that subcategory, and showcase the item’s rank on the product page. As with the main Amazon Best Sellers list, these category rankings are based on Amazon.com sales and are updated hourly.”
This is further complicated to determine just what a bestseller is because of authors who sell most of their titles at live trade shows and events. Many sell multiple copies of their books to readers who attend these events. Some sell hundreds of copies in a year at multiple events.

Since readers are human beings with busy lives, it can often slip their minds to leave a review. Adding their information to email lists can help alleviate these frustrations but it does not always eliminate them since an author’s constant emailing to ask for reviews can come off as begging or annoying.

So, with all of these ever shifting trends in Amazon’s algorithm combined with the understanding that not all authors rely on Amazon reviews to get their books into the hands of anticipatory readers, the status of “Bestseller” can become very obscured.

The hard but also stress-relieving truth is just because it says “Bestseller” it doesn’t have to mean “Bestseller.” Event authors who sell multiple copies of their books and enjoy writing them are the ones who understand that building a loyal readership doesn’t always have to rely on an orange status.

As long as you are building your platform, have loyal readers who look forward to your work, and are buying your books then you are going to reach “bestseller” status. It just might not be according to Amazon or its system.

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Pray for Hell by Morrigan Austin Blog Tour

7/24/2018

About the Book

Title: Pray for Hell (Sampson County Supernatural Book 2)
Author: Morrigan Austin
Book Synopsis: Sampson County, North Carolina is not the quiet little town most people think it is. Hidden deep within the sprawling corn and cotton fields there is a world that no one would ever expect existed.

Ashton Morris and his family have lived in Sampson County, North Carolina all their lives, for them the insane happenings are normal everyday activity, but for Deputy Jacy Crittenden they are anything but normal. Having left her hometown of New York for a quiet life and a little less bustle she can’t seem to wrap her head around the insanity she’s stepped into.

It has been only 6 months since she transferred and already there are ritualistically butchered cattle, a teenager that no one seems to know even exists, not to mention the Morris family and the strange death of the two youngest member’s father. Somehow Jacy needs to find out what’s going on… but her detective instincts just might lead her into a situation that would make her days on the force in New York seem like a walk in Central Park on a nice spring day.

“Pray for Hell” is the second book in the ‘Sampson County Supernatural’ series that promises to be a wild ride on the paranormal side of life… none like you’ve ever read before.

About the Author

Kitty Honeycutt is the single mother of an amazing daughter. She is a publisher for over 100 authors, a writer, an entrepreneur, a singer and an animal and human rights activist.

She sometimes writes under the pseudonyms Kitty 'de Chatfou & Morrigan Austin. Her book “Ouroboros: Born of Fire” is due out in the year 2019, and will be her sixth published work.

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Beyond Beauport by James Masciarelli Release Blitz

7/24/2018

Nautical Fiction/Sea Adventure

Date Published: July 24, 2018

Publisher: Koehler Books

Shannon Clarke raised a family and worked waterfront jobs in America's oldest seaport. Her childhood dream to become a sea captain is revived when her long-lost seafaring uncle Patrick visits with a salty tale of their maritime family ancestry of pirates and privateers. He shares recovered family letters and artifacts from the Golden Age of Piracy. They take to the sea in Patrick's brigantine to follow the siren song of their ancestors in quest of destiny, truth and treasure. The voyage is fraught with raw forces of nature, past traumas and present day sea robbers, as their talents and beliefs of family, identity and purpose are shaken to the core.

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Praise for Beyond Beauport:

"If you like adventure, Caribbean seas and family intrigue, you'll surely enjoy this tale." --Katherine A. Sherbrooke, author of Fill the Sky

" . . . a fast-moving read that keeps you on edge page after page!" --Ron Gilson, author of An Island No More

"Loaded to the scuppers with history and intrigue, Beyond Beauport fastens a shackle to the heartstrings of the pirate in all of us, then pulls along in its powerful riptide of adventure! Bravo!" --Jim Tarantino, Gloucester doryman

"Full of history, geography, maritime life, storms, and recipes, Masciarelli has created an exciting tale of today's woman at one with the sea." -- JoeAnn Hart, author of Float

"James Masciarelli's mastery of plot, suspense, pacing, dialogue and story belies any sense that Beyond Beauport is his first novel. The history that frames this gripping narrative is impeccable. Embarking on this adventure with such appealing characters offers a pleasure that only the most well-crafted novels can provide." --Peter Anastas, author of At the Cut

"Paddy and Shannon have room for one more mate on the Second Wind, and you have permission to board. You might want to keep that life jacket close by--the waters are a little rough ahead." --John Dufresne, author of I Don't Like Where This Is Going

"James Masciarelli has crafted a unique contribution to American letters, an adventure saga that is sweeping in scope yet intensely personal. Masciarelli writes of time, place and history, and in the process has woven a lasting work that speaks to discovery that is both epic in scope and deeply personal." --Greg Fields, author of Arc of the Comet

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About the Author

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James Masciarelli is a writer, entrepreneur, and storyteller with deep experience of the human condition from his work with individuals, families, and organizations in crisis, growth and change. Writing and use of story enabled him to move ideas through organizations in his social work, human resource, and business career. His creative fiction focuses on stories of change and transformation by the sea. He majored in psychology and classical literature at College of the Holy Cross, with advanced graduate study in clinical psychology, and holds an MBA from Babson College. He resides in Naples, Florida and his homeport, Gloucester, Massachusetts with his creative wife and twin beagles.

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Celebrity Status by Angela Scavone Blog Tour & Giveaway

7/23/2018

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Contemporary Romance

Date Published: May 9 2018

Famous Hollywood actress, Elizabeth Stanfield, has a glamorous lifestyle with a lavish house, glittery parties, a people magazine's fifty most beautiful people fiancé and best friend Billy Stone - Famous actor, producer and secret organized crime enforcer.

Everything is not as it seems...Elizabeth's fiancé cheats on her, a studio head and director are hell bent on making her life miserable and it gets harder to keep her secrets protected.

The only good thing in her life is Billy, their budding romance, and connections that give them freedom to do whatever they want in Hollywood.

Will their connections be enough to keep their secrets hidden and Celebrity Status safe or are they doomed to be torn down?

About the Author

Angela Scavone is the author of two Soulmate novels, Love by the book and A Journey Home. As well as, a contributing author to the Christmas anthology, ‘A Soulmate for Christmas’. Her latest novel Celebrity Status is now available from Pearman Literary Publishers on Amazon. She lives in Ontario, Canada sharing her home with her father and much-loved trio of pups. Apart from her avid love of story telling, she likes to read, spend time with family and friends and concoct dairy free recipes from scratch. Sometimes she wins and sometimes she loses – tofu, banana and peanut butter pudding we are looking at you

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Solomon the Accountant by Edward M. Krauss Book Blitz

7/23/2018

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Historical Romantic Fiction

Date Published: January 2018

Publisher: EABooks Publishing

Solomon the Accountant is the story of a young man who falls in love with Molly. He first meets her at the funeral of her husband, killed in an accident after less than a year of marriage. She is heartbroken and devastated, with a new love the last thing on her mind. Solomon’s effort gently, carefully to win Molly’s heart is the core of the novel.

The story is set in a middle-class Jewish community in Toledo, Ohio, in 1950. References to television shows, automobiles, the price of clothing, popular music, and other items have been carefully researched. The thread of Judaism, and Jewish home life, is woven throughout.

A side story involves Solomon’s best friend, Herman, and his girlfriend Deborah. She is ready to marry, he is almost but not quite, and Solomon is caught between them as they seek his advice and support.

The novel celebrates respect for family and elders, true love and long marriages, young love with an unusual situation to overcome, all with a sprinkling of Yiddish.

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Excerpt

Services started at seven-thirty. Solomon had promised he would pick her up at seven, and he pulled up in front of her apartment building at six-fifty. Actually he had left his apartment so early that he had driven slowly the entire way, cars passing him, and still had to sit a half block away for five minutes.

Solomon felt a strange combination of giddy excitement and absolute calm. He went to her door, knocked twice, not too hard, and soon she opened the door. This time she had on a dark blue suit with a silk blue blouse in a lighter, complimentary shade, and a thin gold necklace. Her only other jewelry were her engagement and wedding rings. They greeted, then he walked behind her to the car. He wanted to be a gentleman, to take her elbow, but didn’t want to be too bold, maybe she wouldn’t want his touch. So he walked close, opened the car door. They drove the short distance to the synagogue in silence, each with their heads so full of thoughts they couldn’t decided what thing to say first, so they said nothing, the silence growing until it became impossible to break. Molly noticed how clean the car was, as she had noticed the cleaned office and the new cushion. When they arrived he parked then got out and walked around to her side of the car. When he opened the door he offered his hand to help her and she took it, her gloved hand light in his.

People were arriving, single people, couples, families, older people helped by their adult children. Molly was known to many of them, Solomon to some, since his family belonged to B’nai Israel, and that’s where he usually attended, but easily half of those attending knew Molly or Solomon or his parents or her deceased husband’s parents, and those people looked and noticed and tried not to stare, although a few did, and a few of those already seated even pointed discretely behind their prayer books and made short, whispered comments. Molly noticed but had expected, anticipated the looks and whispers, so she said hello to some, introduced Solomon to others, and he took her lead, relaxed a bit and greeted friends and acquaintances. Soon the service started, and they both got into the rituals, the familiar songs, the comfort of the prayers in Hebrew and English, the worship based on beliefs from so long ago, the days of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. L’dor Va’dor, from generation to generation. During the sermon, their prayer books closed, Solomon’s brain screamed at him to take her hand, but he resisted the urge, the desire.

The Oneg Shabbat was, as always, a calm, pleasant way to finish the week, first the service and then some time to chat with friends, sip tea or coffee, punch for the children, and eat from a display of twenty or more styles of cookies. Solomon favored the almond cookies, a swirled design with a drop of chewy cherry candy in the center. Molly loved the tiny squares of lemon cake, only a bite or two each, a single piece of walnut on the top of each square. As they walked into the large room that was used for wedding receptions, bar and bat mitzvah receptions and Purim festivals and lessons in Israeli folk dancing and other occasions of Jewish sharing, people worked at not noticing, not staring. Solomon asked her if she would like coffee or tea and she said tea, so he poured a cup for her and one for him. They walked towards the trays of cookies and as they chose he was approached by one of his clients. Talking a bit of shop after services was not unknown. At that moment Molly saw one of her friends, a woman who had attended her wedding, now very pregnant with her first child. Molly walked to her.

"Hello, Susan. Looks like you’re serious about this pregnant thing.”

“Oy, Molly, I can’t sit long, he presses on my bladder, I can stand only minutes until my swollen feet kvetch, forget about sleeping, all night long he’s doing pushups and running track like his father did. He should wait until high school to do his sprints, it would be fine with me, but no, three in the morning his little legs are churning.”

“I hear a lot of ‘he,’ Susan. You sure?”

“I think so, my mother thinks so, the doctor thinks so. So of course it will be a little girl.”

“Of course.”

“How soon?”

“Three weeks, twenty-one days exactly, that’s the prediction. A little early is fine by me. Meanwhile Harvey has the room all ready, we don’t know a boy a girl, so we found some light blue wallpaper with pink flowers, that should work for either sex for a few years. Did I just say sex? Nine minutes for the man, nine months for the woman. Such a deal! And for the first six months Harvey was still finishing his residency, so I never saw him. Which was good for him, he was spared three months of listening to me throw up. Oh, sorry, terrible thing to say as you try to eat lemon cake.”

Molly laughed. “That won’t stop me. Watch” she said, finishing off the small yellow square. “So how is the doctor?”

“He’s fine, knock wood. Look at him over there with his head together with Toplosky and Miller. Three doctors. Wonder if it’s medicine or golf they’re talking about? Not that he got to golf much the last year, but next summer he’ll be out there.”

“Best place to get sick is a hospital, next best is a shul.”

“Yeah, and Miller’s OB - GYN. I go into early labor he can deliver the baby right here.”

Molly laughed again.

“So Molly, are we good enough friends for me to ask about the man you were sitting with?”

“Is there some way I could say no to that question?” As Susan looked a bit stricken Molly hurried to assure her. “I’m teasing, Susan, yes we are certainly good enough friends, and I’m glad to tell you. His name is Solomon Wohlman, he’s an accountant, has his own shop. He came to the house when we were sitting Shiva, knew someone in Darren’s family, I think. Anyway, we didn’t… I don’t have an accountant, never needed one, but Darren, may he rest in peace, had an insurance policy and I didn’t know what the best thing was to do with it. Not that it’s a fortune, it isn’t… who buys that kind of insurance? But it was enough that I wanted some good advice, so I asked him and he gave it, really good, clear advice.”

“So then… wait, the feet just quit on me. Please, come sit a minute.” They walked over to where padded folding chairs were lined up against one wall and sat, one chair between them so they could turn toward each other. “OK, so if this is not a good question, now you really could tell me to get lost.”

“You want to know what giving me investment advice has to do with Friday night services.”

“Yes, I should be so bold.”

“He asked to take me, I said yes. There’s really nothing else to say.”

“I’m sorry, that was a tacky thing for me to ask.”

“No it wasn’t. Lots of other people here wondering, I see their eyes turning then turning away. Think it looks like a date to them? Looks like one to me.”

“You know, we, some of the girls and me, we thought you’d move back home, Chicago, right?”

“Yes, I thought about it, but I don’t want to go through packing and moving and looking for another job, and my mother would mother me to death, it just wouldn’t work. I like being a school secretary, and I’m thinking maybe I’ll go back to college, get a teaching degree. At least I’m going to go talk to them, see what it would take, how long.”

“Good for you. You know if you ever need anything….”

“Thank you. Everyone has been so kind. It’s really amazing.”

“We look after our own.”

“Yes we do, but the warmth, the love, its not just yiddishkayt … it’s also been others, Darren’s co-workers, even though he was there such a short time, and my people from school. Lots of love from everyone.”

Susan reached over, patted her hand. “Good…good.” She paused. “Well, time to take the doctor home, I can spend a few minutes with him. You know what’s good about being married to an orthopedist? They give great massages, know all those muscles and connecting parts.”

“Those muscles and connecting parts can lead to more children, I’ve been told.”

“Five, no more. Oy, listen to me, four more times I’m committing to!”

They hugged briefly then separated. As Molly walked toward Solomon he saw her coming and seemed to conclude his conversation, shaking hands with the man he was talking to and starting to walk towards her.

“You didn’t have to stop for me, I’m in no hurry.”

“No, thanks for rescuing me…. I’m happy he’s a success already, enough with the celebration. I’ve heard the story twice before. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

On the way home they talked briefly, mostly Molly talking about Susan and the impending birth, Solomon listening, driving oh so carefully. He walked her to her door, his brain screaming at him again, this time to take her in his arms and kiss her sweet mouth, but reason prevailed, and when she offered her hand for a shake and said “Thank you” he shook it and said “You’re welcome” and then she was in her apartment and he was heading back to his car, happy and a little dizzy from how much he wanted to speak to her of love.

About the Author

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Edward M. Krauss is a writer and mediator living in Columbus, Ohio. He is author of three novels: Solomon the Accountant, a gentle love story set in a middle-class Jewish community in 1950; Here on Moon, a story of deceit, divorce, and recovery; and A Story of Bad, two stories wound together, a murder mystery and a love story. He is also co-author of On Being the Boss, a book about effective crises management and the U.S. Constitution’s application in the workplace.

Before his retirement from the State of Ohio, Mr. Krauss served as a program director, mediator, and mediation trainer. He now is a private mediator, specializing in personnel issues (EEO, grievance, promotion, peer disputes, promotion, termination) and economic issues (land use, development, historical preservation, environmental concerns, investments). He has been approved as a mediator by county courts, the United States Postal Service, the Financial Industry Regulatory Authority, and other entities.

Mr. Krauss is a graduate of the University of Toledo and the Economic Development Institute at the University of Oklahoma.

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By Ways Unseen by Daniel Dydek Blog Tour & Giveaway

7/22/2018

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Epic Fantasy

Date Published: July 12, 2018

The Provinces are falling. From the south, the immortal Knights of Galessern raid. From the north, the trees of the Kalen Woods have awoken, and are hungry for their second city. And from the east, Haydren Loren flees a childhood bully whose hate is now fully grown, and capable of murdering his way to becoming the Earl.

Haydren might find safety in the west. Or, he may find himself suddenly forced on a suicidal mission: face and defeat Lasserain, the strongest mage history has ever seen.

His quest is joined by a medley of friends foolish enough to think they might succeed: Geoffrey, a former knight of Rinc Na who betrayed his country and friends, and now seeks forgiveness through this final, desperate act; Sarah, a sorceress who will do anything to prove she is worthy; and Pladt, the famed archer whose only wish is to travel as far and wide as his name.

The God of All only knows the ways they must go - He, and a voice in Haydren’s head that is constantly growing louder.

Insanity. Capture. Death. All roads seem doomed for failure. But they must quickly choose a path, for Lasserain’s full fury is descending, and no one else has been able to stop it.

About the Author

Daniel Dydek was born in Raccoon Township, PA, where he dreamed of living out west. So far, he’s made it to Ohio, where he lives with his wife. He began writing at age 8, and never really stopped. After three years with the US Army, he went to get his Bachelor’s degree in English Writing from Geneva College of Beaver Falls PA, and is currently finishing up a Master’s degree in Natural Resources from Virginia Tech. Besides writing, he also enjoys mountain biking, reading, coffee shops, book stores, and Durango Colorado.

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Kingston Court by Holly Kammier Blog Tour & Giveaway

7/21/2018

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Contemporary Romance / Chick Lit

Available Now

Publisher: Acorn Publishing, LLC

** Top British book reviewer says Kingston Court has some of the best love scenes she’s ever read. **

Sometimes you have to fall to learn you can fly.

Samantha and Natalie are at a crossroads. Gorgeous, over-the-top Samantha, hides from her past by hanging her status and her happiness on her “perfect” husband. That is until she learns his secret.

But she’s not the only mother on the block struggling. Natalie, nurturing and careful, is thrust back into the workforce after her husband barely survives a near-fatal car accident.

This fast-paced novel follows the lives of two dramatically different women who are faced with life-altering experiences.

Death and misfortune in the span of a single year force these two women to either sink, or rediscover their inner strength and independence. Described as a modern day twist between Sex and the City and Desperate Housewives, Kingston Court is full of scandal, temptation, and all of life’s juicy little secrets.

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About the Author

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Holly Kammier is a former journalist who has worked everywhere from CNN in Washington, D.C. and KCOP-TV in Los Angeles, to the NBC affiliate in small-town Medford, Oregon. A UCLA honors graduate, she is the author of the best-seller, Kingston Court, her debut novel.

Choosing Hope, her recently released novel, is a cross-over to Kingston Court with overlapping characters and locations.

The California native and mother of two, lives in San Diego, California close to her family and friends. Co-Founder of Acorn Publishing, Holly is available for speaking engagements and content editing.

You can visit her online at

WWW.HKAMMIER.COM

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