Book Blitz of My Big Fat Beach Wedding by Melanie Summers (#contests- Enter to win An $50Amazon Gift copy and a Signed Copy of the Book)

My Big Fat Beach Wedding
Melanie Summers
Publication date: April 24th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

The plan was simple: fake the wedding, save her career. Then she met the best man.

Vivian Whitlock’s social media empire is about to crumble. She’s closing in on thirty, and her fans are moving on to their ‘weddings and babies ’era. About to be dropped by her management team, she pretends she and her secret boyfriend are ready to take the plunge.

There’s just one problem: he doesn’t exist.

Enter Dominic James, a charismatic actor working at the idyllic Paradise Bay Resort. He’s got Broadway dreams and the perfect cover story. The two strike a deal—he’ll play her doting fiancé, and she’ll launch him into New York stardom.

But Vivian’s picture-perfect plan takes an unexpected turn when she moves into the beachside bungalow Dominic shares with his brother, Ben—an intense, fiercely-devoted single dad with no time for romance.

Surrounded by swaying palms, ocean breezes, and a precocious five-year-old who steals her heart, Vivian starts to wonder if she’s been chasing the wrong dream all along.

Is she about to lose everything she built—or finally find something that lasts?

My Big Fat Beach Wedding is a STAND-ALONE laugh-out-loud, banter-filled tale of two people who can’t fall in love but do anyway. It’s the perfect heartwarming, feel-good escape from the real world.

WHAT TO EXPECT:

Single Dad who would do anything for his young son

Opposites attract
Living in the Same House

World’s most adorable 5-year-old (with cute red glasses)

Loads of witty banter
A slow burn, plenty of steam, and a hint of spice

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Okay, so slight problem. Dominic left for work early for a pre-show meeting, and Josephine has gone to the other side of the island for a two-day solo hiking trip up a mountain (of course she did). I agreed to go for a sunset dip in the ocean with Henry and Ben this evening, which means we’re all frolicking around playfully in the water in our swimsuits, and Mr. Not-Dad-Bod is in a pair of black trunks that are leaving very little to my imagination. And I know I shouldn’t be looking. Like, I actually do know it, okay. No one has to tell me that it’s completely inappropriate to be ogling my future BIL. But at the same time, my eyes are drinking in the sight of him right now as he gets Henry set up on a surfboard laying on his stomach and sends him back toward the shore. Ben’s arms and chest flex as he pushes the board, and I can’t seem to look away. Also, he’s laughing and smiling, and dear God, but he’s got the best smile I think I’ve ever seen. Better than Giancarlo by about ten million percent. I’m in the water up to my ankles so I can catch Henry if needed, but honestly, he doesn’t need my help. The kid is a total pro, and I’m pretty sure he’s been riding a surfboard since he could walk.

Other than us and the odd seagull, the beach is empty. The waves roll gently in toward the shore in white foamy swirls that disappear into the sand. Behind Ben, the sun is about to dip down to reach the horizon, and the only sound competing with the lapping water is that of Henry’s irresistible little giggle. He reaches the shore and I put my foot out to hold the board steady while he gets off, his life jacket clearly making the task a little more difficult. He adjusts his prescription goggles, then grins up at me. “Come on, Auntie Viv, you’ve got to try it!”

“Oh, no, you keep going. You’re having so much fun,” I tell him, picking up the board and holding it under my arm like the real surfers do.

“I get to do this every day. I want you to try it,” he says, taking my hand while we wade back out to Ben against the gentle surf.

Ben grins at me and lifts Henry up onto his hip. “Yeah, why don’t you give it a try? I bet you’ll love it.”

“Do it! Do it!” Henry chants.

Blushing a little, I say, “All right, but I’m not exactly sporty, so try not to laugh.”

Ben takes the surfboard from me with his free hand, his fingers touching mine as he does, sending a thrill right through me to my toes. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve laid on your stomach before, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can do this.” He holds the board in place for me while I climb on, trying my very best not to think about the fact that he’s so close to my bikini-clad bottom right now. God, I hope she looks good like this. Be perky, bottom.

No, don’t worry about that, silly beans! He’s not looking. He’s a gentleman.

I grip the board with both hands and hold on.

“You ready?” he asks in his deep voice.

“Yup,” I squeak out, even though there’s nothing scary about what I’m about to do.

“Away you go!” he says, pushing the board toward shore.

I squeal and hold on, feeling like a kid again as I zip toward the beach. When I get there, I quickly stand, then turn to Henry and Ben, who are cheering mightily as if I’ve just done something spectacular. I give them a deep bow.

“Again! Again!” Henry says as I walk back to them.

(Okay, so I’m not walking like I normally do. I may or may not be striding toward them with a little extra hitch in my hips and my shoulders back a wee bit more than normal. Bad Vivian. Bad. And yet, still doing it.)

“You know who hasn’t had a turn?” I ask Henry.

“My dad?”

“Yup! Your poor dad, right? I bet he wants a turn.” I give Ben a smile and I have to say, I don’t hate the look on his face right now. All that hip swaying might not have gone unnoticed.

Author Bio:

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Book Blitz of Walk The Line By P. Dombrowiak and N Parker (#Contests- Enter to win an Amazon Gift Card)

Walk the Line
Natalie Parker, Paula Dombrowiak
(Blood & Bone Legacy, #1)
Publication date: April 22nd 2025
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

 

It was supposed to be simple: Film the tour. Build my portfolio. And for Heavens sake, keep it in my pants.

Then I met Felix Krasinski.

The captivating and infuriatingly cocky frontman of Velvet Drift commands attention everywhere he goes—including mine. Am I proud of it? No. I’m supposed to be filming their perfromance, not fantasizing about his perfect abs. I’m determined to be taken seriously, and hooking up with the ridiculously hot rockstar is the fastest way to tank my credibility.

Felix is always in control, and I’m an impulsive rule-breaker. We don’t make sense. But we can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Because, between his uptight habits and annoyingly perfect jawline, there’s more to Felix than his stage presence and legendary last name. He’s protective, vulnerable, and gets me in a way no one else does.

But my career depends on keeping things professional, and his future hinges on staying laser-focused on his band’s success.

Every heated argument, every stolen kiss, makes me want to throw caution—and professionalism—to the wind.

One thing’s certain—this summer tour is about to get a lot more complicated than I bargained for.

Walk the Line is the first book in the Blood & Bone and Turn it Up second generation series crossover. Grab this new adult, angsty, forced proximity, steamy contemporary rockstar romance. Walk the Line can be read as a standalone.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“What the…?” My voice trails off as I take in the dark, angry bruise on my skin.

A hickey.

And not just any hickey—this is the mother of all hickeys.

It’s a masterpiece of malice, blooming in deep purples and reds, unapologetically high on my neck. No amount of foundation could hide this, and it’s far too conspicuous for even the highest collar. There was no fucking around when she decided to do this. She wanted me marked.

“Maggie!” I call, my voice bouncing off the walls as I step out of the bathroom. Her only response is the sound of sheets rustling and a half-asleep groan. I glance back at the mirror, rubbing at the bruise like it might magically fade. Who even gives hickeys anymore?

When I step out, I find her perched on the kitchen counter, one leg dangling lazily while the other’s tucked beneath her. She’s cradling a mug of coffee—my coffee—the steam curling up around her face. And she’s wearing my Henley, the fabric hanging loose on her but clinging just enough in places to make my brain short-circuit. The soft gray color makes her blue eyes pop, and they blink at me with an innocence that’s so utterly contrived, I almost laugh. Almost. And fuck, she made me temporarily forget about the hickey.

“What is this?” I demand, pointing to the bruise on my neck as I stride closer.

She tilts her head like she’s admiring a painting. She leans in, her lips so close I can feel the ghost of her breath. She presses a kiss to the bruise, and I swear my brain briefly loses all function.

“That,” she says, her voice honey-sweet, “is a hickey.”

“I know what it is, baby,” I snap, though the grin threatening to break free betrays me. “I have press with Ivy today.” My tone is exasperated, but she doesn’t look the least bit sorry.

“I know.” Her lips curve into a slow, self-satisfied smile, the kind that makes her look like a sexy as fuck brat. Lucky for her, I happen to like brats.

I grab her coffee mug, setting it down deliberately and grab her by the waist, pulling her flush against me. She lets out a surprised little gasp, her hands instinctively bracing against my chest.

“You fucking scare me sometimes, Sass,” I murmur before claiming her lips.

Author Bio:

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com

Natalie Parker resides in the Seattle area with her husband and two rugrats, but is originally a Michigan girl.

She always enjoyed writing and noticed she had a knack for it while earning her Psychology degree and has always been an avid reader, but never thought of becoming an author until one day there seemed to be a story to tell.

In her spare time, she enjoys reading, reading, reading to her kids, drinking coffee, reading, occasional yardwork, reading, listening to music, reading and writing.

Stay tuned for more to come for your favorite characters of the Turn it Up series!

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Guest Post by Teresa Trent (Setting a Mystery in a Funeral Home) author of I Can't Get No Satisfaction (#contests, #guest Post- Enter to win An Amazon Gift Card.)

I CAN'T GET NO SATISFACTION

by Teresa Trent

April 7 - May 2, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The Swinging Sixties Mystery Series

 

After finding herself in the middle of murder investigation in her last two secretarial jobs, Dot finds the only place that will hire her is her local funeral home.

Why not? At least there all the clients are safe from what the town calls her murderous "Curse of Camden". It is 1965 and Dot is planning her wedding with a Twiggy like mini-bridal gown, but secretly she’s not so sure it’s a good idea. If she really is cursed, what might happen to the one she loves? Is she willing to put him in danger? She and Ben put wedding planning on the back burner when one of the town’s teenage girls gets hit by a drunk boater who gets away. The closer they get to the answers, the more Dot feels the curse is coming for Ben.

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Historical Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: February 2025
Number of Pages: 215
ISBN: 978-1-68512-870-8
Series: The Swinging Sixties Mystery Series, Book 4 | Each is a Stand Alone Novel
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

GUEST POST: 

Setting a Mystery in a Funeral Home

By Teresa Trent, author of I Can’t Get No Satisfaction

My heroine in the Swinging Sixties Mystery Series can’t seem to keep a job. It isn’t because she is a poor employee. She was a star at her secretarial school when she graduated in 1963, but now it is 1965 and she’s in her third job. The problem? People keep getting murdered. Dot Morgan is a murder magnet.

Because of this, the only business that will hire her is the local funeral home. At least the clientele will be safe this time. Creating the setting of a funeral home was a learning experience for me. I had been in funeral homes, but only in the beautifully decorated rooms open to the public. To research this setting, I visited the National Museum of Funeral History in Houston, Texas. Yes, there is such a thing.

Upon entering the museum, we stepped into a hearse room with horse-drawn carriages up to the present day. The hearse from close to the time of my story was especially helpful in my research because it played an important role in the plot.

They had several rooms dedicated to historic funerals, including those of John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan. There was a wing dedicated to papal funerals. The museum had everything you needed to know about the history of taking care of the dead, from coffins to urns.

The cremation chamber, complete with a control panel, amazed me, but what floored me the most? There was a gift shop. I chose not to bring home a mug that said, “Any Day Above Ground is a Good One”.

Having been through the planning process of a few funerals, the museum gave me a completely different perspective on the funeral industry. It’s a business often run by families who are full of compassion for the people they work with, but all the same, it’s a business.

When I wrote the characters of Oliver and Henry Fielding, of Fielding Funeral Home, I focused on their father-son relationship. Where instead of Henry taking off with the family car for too long, he takes the hearse. Boys will be boys. Henry is a young man, and like the song says, he can’t get no satisfaction.

After finishing the book, I was happy to leave such a sad world. Dot couldn’t wait to get rid of her black wardrobe, and I felt the same about my setting. What setting did I use to replace it?

Crying in the Chapel is the title of the next book in the series. How about a little white satin?

 

Read an excerpt:

After leaving Oliver, I decided to speak to the marina owner one more time to try to figure out who took the boat used in Henry’s murder. Grabbing a sandwich at my apartment, I called Ben to see if he would like to go along with me. He was covering court this week for a reporter on vacation, so I was lucky to catch him at his desk.

“Yes, I’d love to go with you, and as luck would have it, the judge rescheduled the court case.”

Even though some people might think a reporter’s life is glamorous and full of intrigue, Ben was covering a case of stolen pigs for The Camden Courier. Shorty Wyckoff, a pig farmer, claimed Bill Wheeler, another pig farmer, snuck up in the cloak of darkness and loaded up an 1100-pound sow into the back of a pickup truck. What made her so valuable was her nickname, Fertile Myrtle. It was reported that she could get pregnant with only one try, and the results were dozens of little piggies. The newspaper had dubbed the case “Makin’ Bacon Caper.” It was a popular series of articles, considering it was one step up from the farm report and featured the sex lives of pigs.

“I’ll pick you up, but I have to warn you, ol’ Bernice isn’t doing too well. I think she’s on her last breath.”

“Ol’ Bernice, a 1955 Oldsmobile, had several dents, bald tires, and a constant wheezing coming out from under the rusty brown hood. “Should we take my car?”

“Nice of you to offer, but I want to take Bernice today. I have plans for her.”

Besides setting her on fire or pushing her off the nearest cliff, I wasn’t sure what he had in mind. I knew Ben had arrived when I heard the familiar wheezing and sputtering of Bernice in my driveway.

Ben and I returned to the marina, but this time the marina owner was nowhere to be found. The marina office and residence stood atop a small hill overlooking the glistening waters of the bay. Selma, the guard dog Shep had praised, did not bark or even growl, but playfully nudged her snout against my hand, her tail wagging vigorously in excitement. We knocked on the glass panes of the marina office, and after not getting an answer, I clasped my hands around my eyes and, leaning on the glass, looked inside. As I drew closer, I could hear the low rumble of jazz, heavy on the bass. It created a melodic backdrop with the gentle lapping of the waves. “I think he must be farther back in the house. I hear a stereo.”

Ben put his ear to the glass and then turned around to face the parking lot. “Hmmm. How many cars do you see parked here?”

I turned back and scanned the parking area. “Three.”

“Right. Ours, his, and whose is that?” He pointed at a wood-paneled station wagon. It was the kind of car a family with children would use.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone else around here. Maybe someone has taken their boat out.”

“Maybe, but when we were here last, there were twelve boats in twelve boat slips. Today I only see eleven. Considering Bubba Jenkins’s boat - was just impounded for a murder investigation. I would say all the remaining boats are here.”

“Which means whoever is driving that station wagon is inside, listening to jazz with Shep. Let’s try knocking at the backdoor,” I said.

We made our way around, and as we did, the sound of the music grew louder, along with a few other sounds.

Ben smiled and blushed a little as we heard rhythmic moans coming from an open window. “They must be big music lovers.”

I giggled. “Regular jazz nuts.” There was no doubt about what they were doing, and from the sounds of it, things were going quite well.

Ben raised his hand to knock, but then stopped. “Not the best time.”

“Yeah. Maybe we can figure this out on our own. I don’t think I could erase a memory of hot and sweaty Shep, but I am curious about who he has in there with him.”

“Let’s go look at the boats.” We walked around the house to the parking lot. Selma followed along, her tail still wagging. As the jazz and the sound of other things faded in my ears, I asked Ben, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“I’m not sure, just something out of the ordinary. Maybe Henry’s killer left something important on the dock.”

“You mean like his I. D.? That would make things easier. Do you know a lot about boats? We didn’t do much boating at our house, although I have been waterskiing with friends.”

“A little.” He shrugged. “Not much. We need to concentrate, and hearing about you in a bathing suit is not making my thoughts flow.”

I giggled. “Billie Holiday will do that to a person.”

We walked on the wooden pier as the surrounding water was still. There was little call to take a boat out on a weekday. The boats were in a variety of sizes, but most were small speedboats, with a pontoon moored at the end. Inside a few boats, there were remnants of beer bottles and sandwich wrappers.

“Not very tidy, these boat people, and from the looks of the empty beer bottles, there are several drunk drivers out on the lake at the same time. No wonder Betty Weaver got hit,” I said, walking to the end of the pier. The pontoon was covered with a canvas drape. Looking underneath, the insides were as neat as a pin.

“Look at this,” Ben said, crouched down by the tip of a small speedboat. “It looks like they’ve sustained some damage here.”

On the side of the boat, a scrape had cut through the sleek paint, making a line through the boat name, Lucky Me. Not as lucky as the boat owner might have thought.

“So, somebody isn’t very good at putting the boat back into the dock. I hardly think that has anything to do with boat thefts.”

Ben nodded. “You’re probably right, but we know there has been a boat thief out here. What’s to say this person only used one boat?”

“You mean like a serial boat thief?” Could a person get away with stealing different boats periodically from the marina? Was starting one boat as easy as starting another?

“Think about it,” Ben said. “Just how many days a week are Romeo and Juliet in there playing Billie Holiday on the stereo?”

The boat dock was at least fifty yards from the combined house and office. Someone could be out here starting a boat, and if the marina owner was busy, he would hear nothing. “He wouldn’t hear it, and Selma, the guard dog, gets put outside on occasions, so happy for a visitor, she doesn’t even bark.”

Ben snapped his fingers. “Bubba Jenkins is Al’s friend, right? We need to talk to him. He might be sitting on information.”

“You know, Al has mentioned him, but I’m not sure what he does.”

“Then we’ll have to ask him.”

As we turned to head back to Ben’s car, the sound of a screen door opening peeled through the air. Shep, his cheeks rosy and his shirt half on, edged around from the back of the house and immediately spotted Ben’s car. His gaze shifted to the dock.

“Can I help you, folks? How long have you been standing out here?”

I walked forward. “We tried knocking, but there was no answer.”

“Yes, you must have been busy,” Ben said.

Shep lifted his chin slightly. “Working on the books. Guess I got involved. Numbers are not my thing.”

We knew just what his thing was.

Ben walked forward and extended his hand. “Ben Dalton, Camden Courier.”

Shep reached out with a measured amount of enthusiasm. “I remember you. What can I do for you this time?”

“We were wondering if you could provide a list of the boat owners here at the marina. I would also like to get in touch with Bubba Jenkins. Ben said this with such efficiency. Shep let go of his hand and stepped back.

“Why would I do that?”

Ben swept his hand back toward the boats. “In the interest of the investigation. Two deaths on the water don’t exactly put the security of your marina in a good light.”

Shep raised a single finger in the air and shook it at Ben’s face. “Lookie here, son. If I hand over a list like that, it will be to the police, and only the police will get it. Hear me? You and your lady friend need to quit nosin’ around here. If I see you again, I’ll call the cops on you for trespassing. Get me?”

“This is public property. There’s not much you can do.”

“Watch me.”

“You seemed more than willing to let people nose around and steal other people’s boats. I think you’re a little late with your righteous indignation,” I said.

“Yeah, well, a tiger can change its spots. I don’t need a lot of folks here getting into my business.” He glanced up at the house. “Talking to you has been a mistake, and now I’m fixing it. Out with you.”

As we made our way to the car, Ben turned and spoke. “We’re leaving, but remember, if you ever want to talk…”

“Out!”

***

Excerpt from I Can't Get No Satisfaction by Teresa Trent. Copyright 2025 by Teresa Trent. Reproduced with permission from Teresa Trent. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Teresa Trent started out teaching English in Colorado, but life and children intervened, and with all that new spare time, she began writing. Besides The Swinging Sixties Series, Teresa has penned the Pecan Bayou, Piney Woods and Henry Park Mystery Series and always has a little idea in the back of her mind for the next one. She is also the author of several short stories and is teaching writing at her local library encouraging new writers. Teresa lives in Houston, Texas with her husband and son. Her podcast, Books to the Ceiling, features authors with new mysteries on the market.

 

Catch Up With Teresa Trent:

TeresaTrent.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @TeresaTrent
Instagram - @teresatrent_cozymys
Threads - @teresatrent_cozymys
X - @ttrent_cozymys
Facebook - @teresatrentmysterywriter

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Guest Post by Jack Luellen Author of Someone Had To Lie- A James Butler Mystery (#contests- Enter to Win An Amazon Gift Card)

 

I want to welcome Jack Luellen to Books R Us. Jack is the author of the the novel "Someone Had To Lie." He has provided us with a guest post just for my readers. Do not forget to enter the giveaway below. You could win an Amazon gift card. Thanks for stopping by.

 

SOMEONE HAD TO LIE

by Jack Luellen

March 31 - April 25, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

THE JAMES BUTLER MYSTERIES

 

Some cases never let you go.

Reeling from the sudden death of a close friend, James Butler and Erica Walsh are pulled back into the shadow world of Mexican cartels and the CIA. Seeking to avenge the murder of their friend with only his haphazard notes to guide them, they puzzle through the possible connections searching for anything concrete. As they investigate his murder, and his notes, they find unsettling links between drug trafficking, American gangs, the CIA, and the opioid epidemic.

Determined to find the truth hidden among cases they thought were long closed, Butler and Walsh call on friends and colleagues to help them survive the crosshairs that got their friend killed. With the threat spreading across more of their contacts, they must uncover the truth before they are buried in lies.

The James Butler mysteries from Jack Luellen seamlessly weave fact with fiction, introducing nonfiction material in the midst of fast-paced murder mysteries.

Praise for Someone Had to Lie:

"Jack Luellen crafts an intriguing tale, interwoven with proven facts about the deadliest drug in our society, Fentanyl. Someone Had to Lie takes the reader on an educational journey into the biggest cartels and Narcos in the world and provides a behind the scenes glimpse of cartel operations through his lead character James Butler. Gripping storytelling! A must read!"
~ Leo Silva, Author of Reign of Terror, Former DEA Supervisory Special Agent

Book Details:

Genre: Crime; Mystery
Published by: Torchflame Books
Publication Date: March 11, 2025
Number of Pages: 294
ISBN: 9781611533705 (ISBN10: 1611533708)
Series: The James Butler Mysteries, Book 2
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Torchflame Books

GUEST POST: 

I have spent most of my legal career writing nearly every day and I believe I’ve become a skilled and effective legal writer. I also am an excellent editor, and thoroughly enjoy editing the writing of other lawyers, with an eye to maintaining their style while improving the final product.

It was only about 5 years ago that I gave any serious thought to creative writing, and I was clueless when I started the process. I found, as a felt my way through the process, that my legal training and legal writing had both positive and negative impacts on my creative writing.

On the negative side of the ledger, legal writing preaches brevity and a dearth of description. Most often, legal writing follows the Joe Friday mantra of “Just the facts ma’am.”

In my legal career, I generally am writing to a narrow audience, and I usually know what the audience knows about my case or situation. I rarely need to “overexplain.” In creative writing, however, I have to be certain to explain enough so all of the audience understands, without being either boring or insulting.

In legal writing, I am much more of a slave to an outline and a process. There is a process to writing a motion or a brief, and there is a point to be made. In creative writing, I have learned to relish the moments when the characters or the scenes surprise me. Ideas or connections often come unexpectedly without apparent forethought or analysis. Often these are the portions of the novels I like the best.

The legal mind and legal process has provided positive influences in my creative writing as well. Organization is key to most, if not all, good legal writing, and, I’ve learned, organization is key to telling a good story, especially a mystery.

Legal writing often is persuasive. The writer is trying to bring the reader along to a conclusion. When I’m writing my novels, I’m not trying to be persuasive but I want the reader to follow the characters as they unravel the conundrum facing them. Attracting the reader’s attention and keeping it throughout is key in both writing styles.

Finally, ruthless editing is a hallmark of a good legal writing process. An argument or phrase that does not advance the theme should be deleted no matter how articulate. The same is true in writing novels. A great scene that does not advance

the plot or the characters should be deleted just like the misplaced but well-written argument.

Overall, what I’ve learned, or at least experienced, is that both types of writing can be exhilarating and rewarding, and each helps the other. But after 35 years of legal writing, I’m finding the freedom that comes with creative writing to be extremely gratifying, and I hope I have as much time with that art as I have had with the law.

Read an excerpt:

“Is that music playing in your office? You never listen to music at work?”

“I do on rare occasions.”

“That’s Alice Merton. How are you even aware of her music?” Erica asks, gobsmacked.

“I’m not, but I met Detective Torres at a Starbucks this morning and it was playing, and I liked it. I asked a Gen Z barista who the artist was and played it when I got in,” James says.

“I’m in shock.”

“I’m evolving,” James says, his words interrupted by the playing of the Johnny Rivers hit “Secret Agent Man” from his cell phone. “Alexa, off. Tim, hi, thanks for calling back. Erica is here with some information to share.”

“Hi, Erica. What’s going on?” Tim says.

“After we left the jail today, I went back to the office to work, and a few minutes ago, Belmonte called me to tell me that the DEA had been quote, ‘Requested,’ end quote to refrain from investigating or prosecuting Javier and that Javier was being moved to a different facility. Belmonte said the directive apparently came from the DNI. He called me from a burner phone and suggested we keep the circle of information as small as possible,” Erica explains.

“Holy crap,” Tim says.

“Any idea who could have that kind of juice?” James asks.

“None in particular,” Tim says.

“You didn’t tell anyone about meeting Javier?” Erica asks.

“Of course not,” Tim replies.

“Then how did anyone—” Erica begins.

“I have no idea,” Tim interrupts.

“One thing seems certain,” James says. “Aguilar was spot on. It is bigger than we knew.”

***

Excerpt from Chapter 24 of Someone Had to Lie by Jack Luellen. Copyright 2025 by Jack Luellen. Reproduced with permission from Jack Luellen. All rights reserved.

 

Author Bio:

Jack Luellen is a Denver, Colorado, attorney with more than 30 years of experience. In practice, Jack has tried cases to courts and juries, and has written hundreds of briefs, motions, and memoranda, to state and federal courts, including federal courts of appeal and the United States Supreme Court.

In 1990, Jack first started working on cases related to the 1985 kidnapping and murder of DEA Agent Enrique Camarena and has investigated the case in the years since that time. Jack's investigations have taken him to foreign countries and included interviews with witnesses both notorious and infamous. This work has been the background to Jack's upcoming novel Someone Had to Die.

Jack is the proud parent of an amazing daughter and is a weekend warrior on the tennis courts.

Catch Up With Jack Luellen:

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Book Blitz Of Spies Like Me-The Gems #1 (#Contests- Enter to win A $50 Amazon Gift Card)

Spies Like Me

Doug Solter
(The Gems, #1)
Publication date: October 4th 2016
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

They offered Emma revenge…

When she discovers her father’s plane crash wasn’t an accident, sixteen-year-old Emma wants to punish those responsible. Even if it means becoming a spy for a mysterious organization known as The Authority. They want Emma to join the Gems…four teenage girls with unique skills…who know how to handle dangerous spy missions around the world…like storming a mountain stronghold to stop terrorists from incinerating the world’s food supply.

The Authority thinks Emma is the missing link to make this team work.

Emma thinks The Authority is her only chance for revenge.

Spies Like Me is the first novel in The Gems Young Adult spy thriller series, although all books in the Gems world can be read as standalone adventures. This is a fast-paced action story with diverse characters, cool spy gadgets, girl-power bonding, deep family secrets, ruthless villains, twists and turns, and a romance with a complex boy to figure out.

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EXCERPT:

The school’s auditorium stage was bathed in colors. White for the actors. Orange for the wooden set representing the faraway pyramids of Egypt. Blue to emphasize the painted sky backdrop above it all. It was the opening night performance of The Spy Who Loathed Me.

Emma Rothchild strutted across the stage in a gorgeous floor-length silk dress, her costume for this scene. Tonight, she craved the eyes of the audience and knew this dress guaranteed their full attention.

Emma was deep into character. She was Russian spy Olga Tetrovich. Emma had studied online videos of Russians speaking candidly and mimicked their accents as best she could. Her drama teacher had complimented Emma on her dedication to the craft.

The MI6 spy George Bond followed Olga on stage, but hid behind a fake tree. The actor’s rich brown skin might be a shock to the 007 spy traditionalists in the audience, but Emma hoped that his performance would win them over. Bond was following her in this scene, thinking she would lead the English spy straight to the microfilm that was stolen from him by a Brazilian dwarf named Tatu.

From a souvenir stand, Emma picked up a clay model of the pyramids, something a tourist would buy at a market. She smashed the stage prop against the table in dramatic fashion and held up the roll of microfilm hidden inside so the audience could see it.

George Bond made his move. He crept up behind Emma without detection while she slipped the microfilm into her small hand purse. Emma’s hand came out holding a cap-gun revolver. She pivoted on her heels, making her dress swoosh around her ankles, and aimed the gun at Bond. The move looked great in rehearsals.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Bond,” Emma said, with her gentle Russian accent. “Our brief partnership is at an end. I have what my government wants. Now I will take my revenge. Do you remember that man you killed in Vienna?”

“Yes, I do,” George Bond said.

“He was my lover.”

Emma waited for Bond’s next line.

But the actor hesitated.

Emma was about to lose it. Did Lewis forget again? They’d rehearsed this scene, like, twenty times.

“What do you have to say about that, Mr. Bond?”

The line was an ad-lib, something to draw the next line out of the boy’s mouth.

Lewis’s face was a river of sweat as his eyes glazed over, the actor turning himself into just another tree on stage.

“Your silence is a good enough confession for me. Any last words before I fire?” Emma went off script, but Lewis could pick his line up there. She was trying to help him.

But the boy shook his head. Lewis wasn’t taking the hint.

Emma pulled the trigger and the gun hammer snapped forward. She squeezed the trigger numerous times in a series of loud snaps. Emma dropped the weapon. “You planted that empty gun in my handbag, didn’t you?”

Lewis nodded. Okay, he’d reacted to that ad-lib.

It was a sliver of hope, so Emma went with it. “Then I’ll have to kill you with my bare hands.” Emma approached Lewis with her arms raised in a karate-looking stance. The boy blinked, still trapped inside his scary place. What could Emma do now? Physically attack him? Bond was supposed to seduce the Russian agent, not have her attack him.

Then a breath of inspiration hit her.

Emma grabbed Lewis’s shoulders. She guided him over to a bench on the set and made him lie down. Emma plopped her body on top of Lewis and pretended to struggle with him. Emma whispered into his ear, “Now get up and glare at me, Lewis.”

His eyes blinked again. Lewis rolled out from under her and stood on stage. Emma pressed her back against the seat of the bench and stayed there while Lewis glared.

Emma labored her breathing, as if she were being seduced. “Oh, why can I not kill you, Mr. Bond? What power do you hold over me?”

Lewis didn’t move, his glare frozen on his petrified face.

Emma knew this would work better if Lewis helped sell it, but…she lifted herself from the bench like a graceful ballerina, trying to act seduced by Bond’s man-powers. “Why can I not kill you, Mr. Bond?” she repeated.

Emma went for his lips, kissing Lewis with passion, as if the male spy had successfully messed with her brain. As Emma eased her lips away from his…life came back into Lewis’s eyes. He gripped Emma and pulled her towards him and they kissed again.

Finally, the boy was acting.

Author Bio:

Doug Solter has worked behind the scenes in television for over twenty-five years. He began writing screenplays, then made the switch to young adult fiction. Doug respects cats, loves the mountains, and one time walked the streets of Barcelona with a smile. Doug is a member of SCBWI, IBPA, and Pennwriters.

If you would like to know when his next book will come out, please follow him on Amazon or visit his website at dougsolter.com and sign up to receive emails about new releases and special giveaways.

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Book Blitz of Omega's Choice by Michelle Minnie (#Contests- Enter to win An Amazon Gift Card)

Omega’s Choice
Michelle Minnie
(The Omega Chronicles, #1)
Publication date: March 27th 2025
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Helena has led an often restrictive life as a sacred Omega wolf and Princess of the Lichtenberg line. With unimaginable power, come responsibilities and dangers that fill her days, but the time has come for her to choose her Alpha and enjoy the freedom of her very own pack. Alpha Aldric Forst has been seriously scarred in numerous battles for his King while leading armies in the fight to protect their lands from the growing evil. Knowing his ability to attract an Omega mate was slim and he’d resigned himself to a life of loneliness filled with duty to his pack and King Leonidas.

Princess Helena has other ideas for the massive wolf, who both intrigues and sets her heart on fire. At the choosing ceremony, she intends to make her intentions of mating with Aldric Frost known to all. However, an evil is lurking inside the castle walls waiting for its chance to steal away the Princess and as many other Omega wolves as possible. Can Aldric uncover the traitor in time or are the lonely Alpha’s dreams destined to remain just that, dreams.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

I’m not planning on attending this year.” Aldric crumpled the offending piece of paper and threw it into the trash can beside his desk. “I refuse to parade around in hope of being chosen when we all know that’s not going to happen.” He stopped pacing long enough to point out the large scar that ran from his left temple across his cheek to his chin and down his neck before disappearing into his shirt.

“Brother, you’re the alpha of our pack and it’s your duty to attend this gathering. Not only is it a decree by King Leonidas, but who is to say an omega won’t choose you. You’re a respected and strong alpha, our pack is large, and we have our

own town and over five hundred acres of wooded

lands to let our wolves run free without fear.

There are a lot of benefits to becoming the alpha

mate and omega to our people.” Godric stood

and retrieved the invitation from the garbage,

flattening it out on the desk as best he could and

handing it back to Aldric.

“Your brother is right, son. You must attend.

We have a strong relationship with the king and

queen, which has been fortuitous since our lands

touch on their northern borders. To refuse an invitation

to the yearly Omegas Celebration by any

unmated alpha would be an insult.” Aldric’s father,

Karl, stood and placed his hand on his son’s back.

“I know it has been hard for you, son, since Senorfra.

That battle claimed far too many of our brave

men, but bless the gods you survived, protected

our king, and came back to us.”

Admittedly, it was odd that even in this modern

age of convenience and technology, most

supernatural beings lived by the old code of fealty,

honor, and loyalty. Considering most lived to be

well over one thousand years, having rules to live

by and a king to follow ensured the safety and

health of all werewolves.

“True, we fought bravely and many men never

returned from that damned forest, but the rest of

us came back scarred in one way or another. My

scars cover my body, and there’s no omega out

there who will choose me. When will any of you

see this? Omegas are rare and wield powerful

magic. They can pick any alpha and any pack they

wish and be given anything they desire because of

the blessings they will bring to that pack. I’m not

saying that an omega doesn’t deserve such things,

but none would want a battle-scarred alpha, no

matter how wealthy or strong our pack is. Perhaps

if Godric went, he—”

“No, don’t even finish that sentence. I am no

alpha, brother. I couldn’t even dream of taking

your place. This pack—hell, the entire town looks

to you for leadership. You have given all of them

a safe place to live and thrive with their families. I

respect you, brother. You will always be my alpha.”

Aldric stared at his reflection in the window.

He knew he was a scary-looking man; his wolf

was even more imposing. His human form stood

at 6’7” and weighed over 280 pounds of muscle,

which had been hard earned through his years as

a general in King Leonidas’s army before the war

ended and Aldric had settled with his family and

pack on these lands. His black hair was braided

halfway down his back, just as his father’s and

brother’s, but his dark blue eyes came from his

mother. Tattoos covered his right arm, wrist to

shoulder blade, depicting his family lineage and

his position as alpha. They revealed themselves

on the day Aldric assumed his position as alpha.

Should he ever be chosen as mate, his blank left

arm would reveal his mating tattoo, indicating the

lineage of his mate, their joining, and any future

offspring. The tattoos his kind wore could not

be given by their own hands or magic; they were

given by the gods, either at birth or upon claiming

their birthright.

Aldric knew in his heart that his left arm would

always remain bare. His great size alone would be

a deterrent to most omegas, who typically feared

a larger predator, but the scars from his many

battles that littered his body made sure to keep

all would-be mates away. Normally, a werewolf

could heal most injuries without leaving so much

as a scratch, but the ogres had coated their blades

with dark witches ’blood, which was poisonous to

all werewolves and much more difficult to heal,

leaving many warriors with these scars.

He just couldn’t figure out why his family chose

to ignore these facts and continued to make him

attend these celebrations, which allowed omegas

of age who had come into their powers to choose

an alpha as mate.

Author Bio:

Michelle grew up with a love of reading and writing as most authors do but her desire for action and adventure led her to create worlds far different from her own. With creatures of myth and legend, as well as from her imagination, Michelle crafted entire universes into her pages where she brings her characters to life in a stunning array from shifters, witches, demons, ogres, gods, fae, fairy, and dragon, to countless more. Hold on tight as her high fantasy stories take you on journeys to faraway lands where nothing is as it seems.

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