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Tuesday, October 26, 2021

@bethany_house @lovebooksgroup @lovebookstours #BHPFiction #HistoricalRomance

Blurb 

A WWII novel of courage and conviction, based on the true experience of the men who fought fires as conscientious objectors and the women who fought prejudice to serve in the Women's Army Corps.


Since the attack on Pearl Harbor, Gordon Hooper and his buddy Jack Armitage have stuck to their values as conscientious objectors. Much to their families' and country's chagrin, they volunteer as smokejumpers rather than enlisting, parachuting into and extinguishing raging wildfires in Oregon. But the number of winter blazes they're called to seems suspiciously high, and when an accident leaves Jack badly injured, Gordon realizes the facts don't add up.


A member of the Women's Army Corps, Dorie Armitage has long been ashamed of her brother's pacifism, but she's shocked by news of his accident. Determined to find out why he was harmed, she arrives at the national forest under the guise of conducting an army report . . . and finds herself forced to work with Gordon. He believes it's wrong to lie; she's willing to do whatever it takes for justice to be done. As they search for clues, Gordon and Dorie must wrestle with their convictions about war and peace and decide what to do with the troubling secrets they discover.


Buy Links

Amazon TBC


Author Bio

Amy Lynn Green is a publicist by day and a novelist on nights and weekends. History has always been one of her passions, and she loves speaking with book clubs, writing groups, and libraries all around the country. Her debut novel, Things We Didn’t Say, received a starred review from both Booklist and Library Journal and was recommended in publications like Christianity Today. Amy and her husband make their home in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Visit www.amygreenbooks.com to learn more. Photo ©Roger Smith Photography


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Monday, October 25, 2021

Black Canvas
Laura Rossi
Publication date: February 14th 2021
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Psychological Thriller, Suspense

“I dream of waking up and being someone else—my hair, my eyes, even my voice, completely different—and each time I go to the mirror to check my reflection, to see what I look like, I’m her. Every time. Her. It’s her reflection that stares back at me, but I’m the one who controls it. I’m in control, and that’s exactly why it feels so good. I control her and what happens to me; I control both lives—mine and hers—and I have what I want the most: her looks, her status, her marriage. There’s nothing left of me, and only I know the secret. Only I know it’s me inside, it’s me under that perfect porcelain skin, it’s me behind those sweet, smart deep brown eyes.
And I have him. He’s mine—just mine now. I’m not the other woman anymore. I’m everything he needs.”

“A story of mystery and intrigue weaved together with prose so delectable, so sublime. A must-read. A masterpiece. A thrill.”
Eleanor Lloyd-Jones

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“I dream of waking up and being someone else—my hair, my eyes, even my voice, completely different—and each time I go to the mirror to check my reflection, to see what I look like, I’m her. Every time. Her. It’s her reflection that stares back at me, but I’m the one who controls it. I’m in control, and that’s exactly why it feels so good. I control her and what happens to me; I control both lives—mine and hers—and I have what I want the most: her looks, her status, her marriage. There’s nothing left of me, and only I know the secret. Only I know it’s me inside, it’s me under that perfect porcelain skin, it’s me behind those sweet, smart deep brown eyes.

And I have him. He’s mine—just mine now. I’m not the other woman anymore. I’m everything he needs. I can be both the wife and the whore. I’m a better version of myself and a better version of Miss Perfection.

But most importantly I have control.

I’ve never had control.

Then, my eyes open to the real world—right when he’s kissing me in the dream, before he can tell me I’m the love of his life and that he only thinks of me.

I wonder if he lies to her like he lies to me every time we see each other. Does he tell her he loves her? And why? Why does he love her?

She does nothing for him, besides being her.

‘I love you for what you do for me’

Those are his words of love for me. In the moment, they mean everything, but they don’t stay long. They vanish with him—with my dream.

I’m jealous of what he says to her; I hate the way he looks at her.

No secret meetings, no hiding, no masks to disguise ourselves… Everything is out in the open in my dream. I wonder what that would feel like, to live our love out in the open.

Before I wake up completely, I feel this resentment; the rage resurfaces.

Would he be mine if it weren’t for her? Would he have married me, if it weren’t for her? I start to lose control again. I want what she has. I want him.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. I have no reason to get out of bed so early. I’m alone, and I spend the first moments of my day—of each single day of my life—wondering if he’s sleeping close to her, if he’s breathing her scent… Wondering if and when he’ll call me.

I have no control. He decides. He sets up our meetings. He tells me where and when. My role is to be there on time and the way he wants it. Possibly naked.

It’s only when I get his text that I have the incentive to get up. It changes my day. I work around our meeting, I do what I have to do and I hope time flies to the moment when I’ll see him again.

My whole existence revolves around him.

And is focused on how I can be more like her.

I would do anything, anything, Doctor. Anything to be her.”


Author Bio:

My name is Laura and I am dreamer, the kind that walks around all day and likes to go back and forth, from the real world to her own little world.

I have two kids and a fantastic partner. We work together in our little shop in Italy, near the beach.

When I am not busy working or being a mommy, I like to fantasize about new characters and new stories I'd like to write.

Counterpoints is my first book.

Follow the story @laurarossiauthor on facebook

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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A noir-inspired caper set in Milan, Italy…


By Lorenzo Petruzziello

A MISTAKE INCOMPLETE, Suspense/Noir-Inspired, Magnusmade, 344 pp.



An incompetent thief,

a hopeless bartender,

a dead stranger,

and a lonely tourist.

A NOIR-INSPIRED CAPER SET IN MODERN-DAY MILAN.

An incompetent thief makes another attempt at burglary. A hopeless bartender struggles to manage her last patron. The pair reluctantly work together to figure out why a man they presumed dead may have returned, while a lonely tourist inadvertently gets in the way.

PRAISE:

"A sharp, edgy caper with a final surprise." -- Kirkus Reviews

"The many twists and turns with international touches will reward readers of noir fiction..." - Feathered Quill

 





Chapter 1

Berlin

His steps were careful, and his comfort with darkness allowed him the typical confidence to succeed without a trace. He made his way across the room to the large ornate mirror hanging above an oak cabinet. Lifting the constraining ski mask, he examined his new moustache still coming in. He had decided a while ago that he wanted a distinguished look, and concluded that a moustache should do the trick. 

The soft moonlight was not bright enough at this end of the room. To allow him a better examination of his facial hair, he turned on his mini flashlight and shined it onto his face. The moustache was coming in nicely, not too thick, and shaped just perfectly. He looked at the rest of his face, which he tended to do when in front of a mirror – he just couldn’t help himself. He noticed that the lighting, positioned as it was at that moment, accentuated his handsome features. Realizing he had distracted himself again, he quickly turned off the flashlight to get back to the matter at hand. 

Did he have to put the ski mask back on? What was the point of it? He knew no one was going to see him. And besides, if he was to get spotted on the street or by some neighbor, he thought a black ski mask would definitely call attention to him. He decided it wasn’t necessary and kept the ski mask up away from his face. This way, it was easier to make his way around the room. 

He was dressed in all black: a tight black shirt with long sleeves and tight, yet flexible, black pants, allowing him agility for climbing over the balcony. His shoes were made of flexible black canvas with black rubber sole. He had perfected this outfit over the years.  Wait, he thought to himself. What is that? He shined the mini flashlight on his shirt. “Is that a fuckin’ stain?” he mumbled as he rubbed the white drop. “Where the hell–?” He remembered. “Fuckin’ bird.” 

His gloves were also tight, but their leather made it more difficult to handle objects.  He hadn’t been able to find his favorite neoprene pair with the metallic tips, which allowed him to use touch screens. Where the fuck had he misplaced those damn gloves? Damn! He just remembered. They were in the side pocket of his travel bag in the extra closet in his new apartment. The travel bag! That’s where the other lighter is too! Flashlight off. He finally turned away from the mirror, aggressively shoving the flashlight back into his small black shoulder sling. He made his way around the room and took note of the furniture. It was laid out almost exactly as it had been described to him. Bam! He stubbed his left toe on the metal leg of a marble top coffee table. “What the fuck?” he whispered as he lifted his leg and grabbed his toe. It was instinct. That’s what one does when one’s toe throbs with pain, right? He felt himself fall forward. He tried regaining his balance, but it was too late. Crash! A lamp fell to the floor. It had to have been made of metal because it fell with a multitude of crashes. He fell along with it, but managed to land onto the plush floral sofa. He let go of his leg, realizing he had to get the hell out of there. The floorboards in the ceiling creaked.


















Amazon →  https://amzn.to/38P6hs2





Lorenzo Petruzziello is the author of A MISTAKE INCOMPLETE – a noir-inspired caper set in Milan, Italy. His first novel THE LOVE FOOL is a non-romantic romantic comedy set in Rome. Both books are available worldwide through your favorite booksellers.

Lorenzo holds a Global MBA in International Marketing from Suffolk University in Boston, Massachusetts. He is bilingual, raised speaking both English and Italian. He was born and raised in U.S.A. and spent his summers in Italy. He lives in Massachusetts working on his writing as a side gig to his corporate day job. He has contributed to publications on food, travel, and cocktails, including Intermezzo and  SIPthemagazine.

Visit his website at www.magnusmade.com.

Connect with him on TwitterFacebook and Instagram.







Sponsored By:

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Dead Man Walking
The Ivyverse 
Book One 
Zach Adams

Genre: Contemporary fantasy, mystery, horror
Publisher: Adams/Valentine
Date of Publication: September 19th, 2021
ISBN Print: 978-1-7370775-0-3
ISBN Kindle: 978-1-7370775-3-4 
ISBN PDF: 978-1-7370775-2-7
ASIN:B094CD2HYR
Number of pages: 288
Word Count: 78,098
Cover Artist: Touqeer Shahid

Tagline: “Unlocking the door to the dead”

Book Description: 

Dead Man Walking by Zach Adams is a compelling contemporary fantasy novel full of twists and turns that will leave readers captivated until the last page. Focusing on Isaac Falcone, a young library assistant, this novel follows the man as he realizes that his life is becoming infested with otherworldly creatures, many of whom mean to do him harm. After discovering a magic book, Isaac is attacked by a swarm of the undead, but is rescued by an elven man named L’æon. The elf suddenly appears in Isaac’s life more and more, allegedly protecting him from the malicious forces that mean to do him harm. But nothing can prepare Isaac for the penultimate evil that he will have to face in order to save himself...and his entire reality.


Excerpt :

Wax-face seemed to notice Isaac for the first time, widening his eyes - which Isaac saw were gray with cataracts, streaked with red - and leering at the librarian with a predatory fascination. His jaw slowly fell open, a stream of blood flowing down his chin to the floor.
Isaac attempted to flee, but his feet were giving his brain the silent treatment. The best he got out of himself was turning his head to look over his shoulder. Two more lumbering, waxy, blood-dripping freaks limped out from behind bookshelves and toward Isaac.

Our hero would claim for most of his life beyond this event that the sound he emitted was a leonine roar as he suddenly found the courage to fight his attackers off and escape.

However, he knew completely well that the noise which escaped his lungs was a high-pitched, birdlike screech as he attempted to mediate a debate between Panic and Rage over the course of a second or two;

Oh fuck, zombies.

Don’t be ridiculous.

Find a weapon!

You don’t even know how to use any.

Find one anyway!

It’s a library, are we going to papercut them back to death?

Do we think this is the zombie apocalypse?

I feel like we’re wasting a lot of time here.

Panic ceased its babbling and made a noise not unlike a police siren. Rage decided now was as good a time as any to hop on a dream-bus and see the world before the useless skin-sack they inhabited got himself killed, offering Isaac no more survival pointers.

Isaac jerked back around to face the original zombie (a word he was still hesitant to use but had now become the only discernible thought he could latch onto).

The monster had completed its examination, raised its raspy wheeze to a blood-curdling shriek, and made a mad dash for its prey, blood flying every which way from his gaping mouth. Isaac could hear the two behind him do the same.

Well, there you go you useless lump, you went and got us killed.

It’s not his fault, there was nothing in orientation about an after-hours zombie attack.
The argument in Isaac’s head descended into a cacophonic volley of insults, mocking tones, and detailed instructions for the other to misbehave with a tree.

Isaac reminded his debating thoughts that they were all part of the same person, so tree sap on one’s privates is tree sap on the others. Also, he added that the zombies may have been close enough that he could smell iron on their breath, but the well-dressed gentleman with silver hair in the doorway seemed calm and ready to help. By all laws of logic and probability he was aware of, Isaac would be dead in three and a half seconds anyway, so no need for extra stress.

Panic and Rage stared out through Isaac’s eyes. They agreed that there was indeed a rather pale man with silver hair and an incongruously cheerful smirk standing at the fair end of the room, absent the blurry gray doppelganger Isaac normally saw with people and seeming to emit a faint glow. He was dressed in a white suit with vague green specks all over it, with a feathery gold and silver cape to go with it.

Whoever he was, he seemed more-or-less qualified to handle such an unexpected threat.

The new arrival was pointing the palm of his left hand at the scene, his thumb extended at a right angle. He twitched his hand down at the wrist and every molecule in the room sang out in unison, connected by static electricity.

“Dí’prætä.”

A razor-thin hemisphere of light erupted in a three-foot radius around Isaac. The zombies, all of whom had just taken a flying leap for his neck, landed on the bubble and bounced off.

They each landed on their backsides with a dull thud, totally incapable of processing this development. They caught the pale man’s scent and turned on him, assuming he would make a decent meal as well.

The suited man shut his eyes and delicately pressed his fingertips together, then his palms before he turned them toward the zombies. He intoned a series of syllables in a steady waltzing rhythm, continuing to use the molecular structure of the library as a network of loudspeakers.

“Tä’gläcí äy æ’chévän.”

They all froze, and a few of Isaac’s rapid heartbeats later the monsters disappeared into thin air. As they went, the electric buzz throughout the area died down until it vanished entirely, along with the bubble around Isaac.

Without a word, the new arrival sniffed the air like a bloodhound while wandering toward Isaac. He stopped every few steps and screwed up his face in concentration. He finally followed his nose to Isaac and began sniffing the young man’s scalp, seeming to not notice there was a person under the hair. He jumped back in surprise when he finally did.

“Oh, I am so sorry! I did not realize that you were a person.” The new man said with a grin and an accent with traces from most of Western Europe. His voice, though still bouncy and full of life, had lost the musical quality it had when the entire building spoke for him.

“Who are you?” The stranger asked.

Isaac stared at him without blinking, “Uh…Buh” floating through his mind again. He waded through a mess of scattered vocabulary to find a coherent response until he finally landed on, “I-Isaac Falc-cone.”

The activation of the various anatomical components required for speech set off a domino effect which rattled every other bit of their host, who began to shake violently as tears once again fell down his face.

The newcomer twitched slightly. “Just a fair warning, Uh-Buh, you ought to take care not to give away so much of your name to strangers. I mean you no harm, but many entities may take it as an invitation.”

“Inv… Wha…” Isaac stammered.

The man with the silver hair smiled, grabbed Isaac’s wrist, and helped him to his feet. He swept some loose zombie dust from Isaac’s clothes, looked him in the eye, and spoke with extraordinary calm. Isaac couldn’t decide if he was comforted by or terrified of the stranger.

“Unimportant. Uh-Buh I-Isaac Falc-Cone, nice to meet you,” The visitor said, still holding on to Isaac’s wrist. “You may call me L’æon. Næ’vös shívæ!”


About the Author: 

Author Zach Adams has had a passion for writing and storytelling his entire life. However, he didn’t decide to pursue it as a profession until he realized that working in retail was completely draining his remaining life force.  And so, Adams set out to create a fascinating and captivating novel, which he achieved in his debut work, “Dead Man Walking”.

Having a general distaste for his current reality, Zach aspires to escape into the science fiction and fantasy worlds that he creates. And by doing so, he aims to share this escapism with his readers (who are probably also incredibly tired of the current state of things).

Zach was raised by an anthropomorphic ostrich, and is a seasoned time traveler. Coincidentally, he also enjoys making up utter nonsense about himself. Currently, Adams lives in Alaska with his cat Gamora (who he does not plan to sacrifice on Vormir).

https://www.facebook.com/VadamsAlentine



Tour Giveaway 

5 winners of  an ecopy of “Dead Man Walking” 

will be chosen randomly from those who join the mailing list 

at www.adamsvalentine.com 

during the tour time frame


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The Story of The Baby Box Lady

Date Published: April 9, 2021

Publisher: MindStir Media



She went from being ABANDONED, to saving abandoned babies.

Poignant, brutally honest and triumphant; Blessed to Have Been Abandoned is the true story of Monica Kelsey, the founder of Safe Haven Baby Boxes. Follow Monica's story as she discovers the secrets of her painful beginnings, the painful journey of her birth mother, wrestling with being abandoned as an infant, yet being given the gift of an amazing forever family. Watch as Monica's personal struggle births the vision for a national organization that is saving the lives of abandoned infants across the United States.

A heart wrenching yet ultimately victorious story, Blessed to Have Been Abandoned will take you through the pain, struggle, valleys and mountain tops of Monica's life, all of these pointing to the amazing hand of God. A testimony to God's faithfulness and His plan and purpose, this book will encourage your own heart and help you find purpose through pain and we trust it will bring Glory to God, the Author of each one of our complicated, messy and inspiring journeys.


Praise

"Monica Kelsey's Blessed to Have Been Abandoned: The Story of the Baby Box Lady is an uplifting inspirational story of how one woman answered God's call on her life, transforming her difficult beginning into a mission to protect the most vulnerable among us in her home state and beyond. It's exactly the kind of story we need. Highly recommended!" -J.J. Hebert, #1 bestselling author


About the Author

Monica Kelsey is the founder and Executive Director of Safe Haven Baby Boxes, a 501c3 non profit whose mission is to prevent infant abandonment and give mother’s in crisis a safe, legal and completely anonymous option of surrendering their unharmed newborn. Monica’s personal story of being abandoned at birth by a teen mom who had been raped and hidden away for her entire pregnancy propelled her to speak on behalf of babies like herself as well as her birth mother who desperately needed a safe option. Monica is also a firefighter/paramedic and knows first hand how important first responders are to state Safe Haven laws.


Purchase Link

Amazon

 

RABT Book Tours & PR
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 Book Blurb

Evil is at play in a South African game reserve.

A poacher vanishes into thin air, defying logic, and baffling ace tracker Mia Greenaway.

Meanwhile Captain Sannie van Rensburg, still reeling from a personal tragedy, is investigating the disappearance of two young girls who locals fear have been abducted for use in sinister traditional medicine practices.

But poachers are also employing witchcraft, paying healers for potions they believe will make them invisible and bulletproof.

When a tourist goes missing, Mia and Sannie must work together to confront their own demons – which challenges everything they believe in – while following a bloody trail that seems to vanish at every turn.

 

 Amazon UK : https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blood-Trail-Tony-Park-ebook/dp/B098JK2VP6

Amazon US : https://www.amazon.com/Blood-Trail-Tony-Park-ebook/dp/B098JK2VP6


Excerpt
‘Is it mostly the grandmothers who care for the children here?’

Nomvula nodded. ‘Often, yes. Most of the mothers are away working. My daughter, Sibongile, Lilly’s mother, died three years ago. She was very sick with tuberculosis.’

‘I am sorry for your loss.’ Sannie wondered if Sibongile had been HIV positive as well. Often it was TB that caused death for people whose immune systems were low.

‘Does Lilly ever miss school?’

Nomvula shook her head, emphatically. ‘No, she is a good girl. Some of the children, ai, they grow up with not enough supervision and they get into trouble, but not my Lilly. She even has an award from the teacher for her attendance. I can go to my house and find it for you, show it to you so you can see and . . .’

Sannie reached out and put a hand on Nomvula’s shoulder as her body heaved beneath her touch, the fear threatening to overwhelm her. Sannie could not imagine how she would feel if one of her children went missing, but Nomvula seemed to be fearing the worst already. ‘How about Lilly’s father?’

Nomvula gave a flick of her head. ‘He works in a mine in North West province. I have left a message for him on his cell phone, but that one, he is no good. He has not seen Lilly for nearly eight years now.’

Which meant, Sannie calculated, that he’d left when Lilly was just five years old. This did not sound like a case of a parent kidnapping his own child.

 

 Tony Park is the author of 19 bestselling thriller novels set in Africa and six non fiction biographies.

Tony had worked as a reporter, a press secretary, a PR consultant and a freelance write, He also served 34  years in the Australian Army Reserve, including six months in Afghanistan in 2002.  

 Tony and his wife, Nicola, divide their time between Sydney and southern Africa, where they own a home on the border of the Kruger National Park. Tony’s 18th novel, Last Survivor went to number one in adult fiction in South Africa.


Follow him at:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tonyparkauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tonyparkauthor

Website: https://www.tonypark.net


 

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