Book Blitz of Step One Indigo Ballet Series(#Contests- Enter to win an Amazon Gift Card.)

Step One
Grier Cooper
(Indigo Ballet Series)
Publication date: November 15th 2024
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult

When Indigo lands a role in Ballet Russia’s touring production of The Nutcracker, it’s a dream come true…. Or is it? Her arch nemesis is also part of the production. So is dashing Russian viral video superstar Dimitri Volkov, who’s playing some kind of game she doesn’t quite understand.

As Indigo dances alongside the rising stars of Ballet Russia she struggles to rise above constant criticism from Ballet Russia’s Director, Yuri Kanofsky. But first she’ll have to dig deep and silence the doubts running through her mind if she wants to rise to their level and drive her ballet career forward.

When unexpected events turn Indigo’s world upside down overnight she’s forced to decide how much she’s willing to sacrifice to get there.

And one innocent mistake just might cost her everything.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

“You.” The single word from Yuri yanks me out of my reverie. “Indigo, is it?” I nod numbly. “Come here, please.” Yuri points at the center of the floor then folds his arms and waits. I take my position there standing still.

“We begin like this,” he says, posing as I remember from the video of Irina. He shows me the first counts of eight for my solo and I mark the steps as I watch. I’ve memorized them after the second time he walks them through; thankfully I’ve always been quick to pick up choreography.

“You have it?” he demands gruffly. I nod. “Show me.” he steps back and leans on the barre at the front of the room, watching me intently, like a cat tracking a careless bird.

I spread my feet wide and bend forward at the waist, imagining the pose as I remember Irina did it. Aside from Yuri’s counting, the room is silent and still; I feel the others watching. But I can’t think about that. I must only think about the counts and where my body is going, one second ahead so I am there when I am supposed to be–

“No!” he claps loudly. “Let me see position again.” I recreate the pose I was in before he interrupted. “No.” he shakes his head vigorously. “It is like this.”

He strikes the pose. “You see?”

I don’t understand the difference but I don’t dare say anything. I nod.

“More energy in fingertips,” he suggests. I try again, this time I imagine sparks shooting out of my fingertips. This seems to work, since he lets me continue. I rise en pointe, bringing one leg into passé retiré, the toes touching the side of my standing leg near the knee.

“Stop.” More clapping. He marches over to me again. “Make me passé,” he says. I rise back into the position, more forcefully this time, but still he shakes his head. “It is impossible,” he states. “This is not passé. It must be in front of knee, like this,” he says, demonstrating.

Miss Roberta would frown on this placement, I think. Another example of how different ballet technique is from one company to the next, from one country to the next.

Still, I comply. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to learn slight variations, to have more translations in my pocket. You never know when they might come in handy in the future. Another passé, then close in fifth position, and pirouette from fifth–

“No again.” He clenches his hands into fists this time and stomps over to Skinny Snow White. I catch the first word, “Olgachkova” and then get lost inthe flurry of words that follow, none of which I understand. When he falls silent,

Skinny Snow White nods in assent and replies, “Da.”

Skinny Snow White removes the plastic warmup pants she was wearing and makes her way over to me. Yuri flaps a hand at me impatiently, indicating I should step aside. “Olga will show,” he says, turning to her with an enormous smile of beatitude.

I edge out of her way, trying not to feel crushed. I know that having Olga dance in my place is meant to be a teaching tool, something to help me ultimately, but it still stings.

That feeling intensifies as she moves gracefully through the choreography, flowing smoothly through the passés and turns as effortlessly as a fish swirls through water. I try to focus on what she’s doing so I can learn. I’d like to figure out exactly what it is that Yuri’s looking for, that I haven’t got. Yet. But it’s almost impossible to ignore that this woman is one of the most exquisite dancers

I’ve ever watched.

I’ve told myself oodles of time I must never ever, under any circumstances, make comparisons–because comparison is always a losing game. But how not to when the glaring differences are practically smacking me in the face?

Yuri claps again. “Enough. Khorosho, blagodaryu vas, Olga. We will break. Return in twenty minutes.”

I stand paralyzed, mute with a flurry of thoughts pirouetting in my mind.

After watching Olga dance I don’t know how I will ever measure up. I want to, but it seems like an impossible task. Where to even begin? Who can help? Can anyone? What do I need to do to reach that same level of precision and perfection?

All I can think is that even if I were to sneak from my bed and dance all night long, wearing out pair after pair of pointe shoes every night up until our performances, like the Twelve Dancing Princesses fairytale, I’m not sure even that would be enough.

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Author Bio:

Grier left home at fourteen to study at the School of American Ballet in New York. She has performed on three out of seven continents with companies such as San Francisco Ballet, Miami City Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, totaling more than thirty years of experience as a dancer, teacher and performer.

Her work has been praised as "poignant and honest" with "emotional hooks that penetrate deeply." She writes and blogs about dance and has interviewed and photographed a diverse collection dancers and performers including Clive Owen, Nicole Kidman, Glen Allen Sims and Jessica Sutta. She is the author of Build a Ballerina Body and The Daily Book of Photography. Grier's work has also appeared in Conscious Dancer, Discovery Girls, Skipping Stones, and Dance Advantage, among others.

Website / Goodreads / X

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Review of Burn This Night by Alex Kenna (#mystery, #contests- Win an Amazon Gift Card)

 I would like to welcome Alex Kenna, Alex is the author of The Kate Myles Detective Series. She is touring the blogosphere with Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours with Book #2 "Burn This Night." Thanks for stopping by.

 

Told in alternating timelines, this gripping mystery about a PI and her quest for answers is full of twists and turns, perfect for fans of Allison Brennan and Gytha Lodge.

Struggling private investigator Kate Myles is shattered to learn her late father isn’t her biological dad. She’s still reeling when she discovers that an unknown distant relative is the prime suspect in a decades-old murder investigation. Trying to convince her to take on the case for free, an old colleague recommends her as an investigator for a recent arson murder in the same small town.

After giving up on a failed acting career, Abby Coburn is starting over as a promising social work student. With her life on the right track, she’s determined to help her brother, Jacob, whose meth addiction triggered a psychotic break and descent into crime. But when Abby dies in a fire that kills two other people and destroys part of the town, the police immediately suspect Jacob.

As the Coburn family grapples with the tragedy, Kate begins unraveling the cold case but finds herself caught in the middle of an emotional minefield. Pretty soon, she discovers that this town is full of dark secrets, and as she comes closer and closer to figuring out the truth, Kate must solve both murders before she becomes the next victim.

Read an excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Eight Months Ago—Grace

My eyes shot open when I heard the yelping. Barney was going to wake the baby. I dove toward the old dog, grabbed his snout, and held it closed with both hands. “Shh,” I pleaded.

I lowered one hand and rubbed Barney’s back, trying to calm him. He let out a whine, and like clockwork, Liam started to cry. I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and braced myself for another late-night nursing session. My body felt heavy with milk and stress and exhaustion.

Carefully, I scooped up the howling baby, carried him over to the rocking chair, and lifted my T shirt to feed him. Liam quieted down and nestled against me. I sniffed his hair and stroked his cheek as we rocked back and forth. Part of me wanted to stay like this all night. But a bigger part of me longed to be under the covers, passed out in a warm oblivion.

I heard the shower turn on down the hall. Ted must be back from serving his warrant. A few months ago, he’d gotten smart with a lieutenant, who then started feeding him late-night assignments. These frequent absences were brutal now that I was back from maternity leave and needed sleep to function at work.

Barney whined again and clawed at the bedroom door. Clutching Liam, I rose to let the dog out of the room.

I looked down at the baby, who was asleep and making little catlike snores. With slow, deliberate steps, I made my way toward the crib and lowered him until his back rested against the fabric. But the change in angle caused his eyes to open and his lungs to inflate. Then came the cry—and Barney ran back to the bedroom, joining Liam in a horrible wailing duet. I reached out toward the dog and felt wet fur. Damn it—Barney must have peed in the house. Hot tears ran down my cheeks. What I wouldn’t give for one night’s sleep.

The door opened and Ted walked in with a towel around his waist. “I need help,” I snapped.

“What?” asked Ted, surprised by my tone.

My eyes were closed, and I was crying. But Ted couldn’t see that in the dark. He just sensed the anger in my voice. I knew it wasn’t his fault that the baby wouldn’t sleep, that the dog couldn’t hold it, and that his boss was a jerk. But I’d reached my limit, and Ted was the only living being in earshot who understood human language.

“Barney peed in the house. Take Liam so I can let the dog out before he does it again. Just try to get him back to sleep.” I placed the screaming, wriggling infant in Ted’s arms before either of them could protest.

Flipping on the hall light, I made my way to the kitchen. Barney scampered ahead of me, spinning in circles. I threw on Ted’s faded hoodie. It reeked of old sweat, but I was too tired to care. I hooked Barney’s leash to his collar, and bracing myself for the cold, I unlocked the back door and stepped outside.

The Santa Anas blew hard, and I shivered as cold air soaked through the hoodie’s weave. I could hear the Jeffrey pines rustle in the wind. Thrusting my hands into the central pocket, I rubbed them together for warmth.

A smoky odor hung in the air—maybe the residue of a neighbor’s barbecue dinner. But the wind should have blown away the scent by now.

Barney tugged at his leash. I let him drag me toward the street. Now that we were outside, he wouldn’t be satisfied without a walk, and it might clear my head as well.

The sky was lighter than I’d expected. Idlewood doesn’t have streetlights. It’s a conscious decision to preserve the log-cabins-in-the-woods feel of the place. Darkness adds to the storybook charm, and it can be hard to find your way on moonless nights. But the sky had an orange-gray glow that reminded me of LA smog. Maybe it was later than I thought, almost morning.

Barney tugged on his leash, half-dragging me up the road toward the intersection. He seemed agitated, and I wondered what had gotten into him. As we passed the Hernandez’s place, our footsteps activated the motion sensor, and the automatic light above their garage snapped on with an electric hum.

I noticed something floating in the air. Tiny particles, like gray snow or dryer lint. The flecks danced in the air, and Barney snapped at one as it fluttered toward his jaws. The smell of smoke was growing stronger.

Oh my god.

Clutching Barney’s leash, I ran the rest of the way to the cross street, which cut straight to the mountain. High in the pines, I saw an orange glow—luminous against the dark sky. My vision tunneled, and all I could see was the fire on the hillside. The light was near Abby’s cabin. But I couldn’t tell how near.

I grabbed my phone and scanned my recent calls, but it had been weeks since I’d spoken to my sister, and her name didn’t pop up. I pulled up my contact list and clicked on her name. After four rings, a cheerful recording prompted me to leave a message. Maybe she’s already fled. No, Abby would’ve called if she were awake. She might hate me, but she’d warn me about a wildfire.

I called back, praying that her cell wasn’t on silent. Come on Abby, answer the phone. When I heard the prerecorded message again, I started to panic. I left a voicemail: “Abby, it’s Grace. There’s a fire by your cabin—you need to leave now!”

The orange glow was getting bigger as the Santa Anas blew the flames toward Idlewood. It was how I’d always imagined an erupting volcano would look, with lava flowing down its sides. I called Abby a third time, cursing under my breath. Across the street, a door opened, and an old man stepped outside, holding a little white dog. “There’s a fire!” he shouted.

I looked at him and then back at the mountain, ringing phone pressed against my ear. Dammit, Abby, pick up! “My son works at the fire station,” said the man. “They’re about to put out an alert. We have to evacuate. The whole town could burn.”

“My sister’s cabin is on the hillside, and she’s not answering,” I shouted. “Can you call your son and tell him someone’s up there?”

I heard a chime and looked down at my phone. It was a text from the fire department, ordering us to leave Idlewood. But my feet stayed planted. My sister was on that mountain, with nothing but a narrow dirt road leading down to safety. If the fire overtook the path, she’d be trapped.

“Jeffrey, it’s Pop,” I heard the old man say. “There’s a lady here whose sister has a cabin near the fire.”

Hearing those words unleashed a fresh wave of panic. Abby’s cheerful answering machine message sounded for a fifth time in my ear. “Abby, get out of there!” I screamed into the phone.

“We have to go,” said the neighbor. “This thing could spread faster than they can contain it.”

My phone chimed and I looked down at the screen, hoping to see Abby’s name, but it was a voicemail from Ted. Before I could call him back, a text flashed across my screen: FIRE—COME HOME NOW

I looked back and forth from my screen to the mountain. My sister was up there. But my husband and son were at the house. I couldn’t wait any longer. I tugged at Barney’s leash and ran home.

***

Excerpt from Burn This Night by Alex Kenna. Copyright 2024 by Alex Kenna. Reproduced with permission from Alex Kenna. All rights reserved.

 

 My Thoughts:

"Burn This Night" is a fast-paced and engaging detective novel. The main character, Kate, struggles with a complicated past that includes a failed marriage, opioid addiction, and alcohol abuse. Kate became a Private Detective, set out to solve a cold case, and discovered information about her past and family. I especially liked how the author wrote the story with alternating narrators and timelines from the past. Kenna used this technique to introduce us to Abby and Jacob and their personalities and motivations. Some twists and turns kept me engaged, and every time I thought I knew who the killer was, I was wrong. 

Kate's problems were introduced in the author's debut novel, "What Meets the Eye," but I read this novel as a stand-alone. I had no trouble following the progression of this story and the characters. I look forward to reading the author's next novel.

Author Bio:

Alex Kenna is a mystery writer, prosecutor, and amateur painter. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, son, and giant schnauzer. Alex's first novel, WHAT MEETS THE EYE, was a 2023 Shamus Award Finalist for best first P.I. novel. Her second novel, BURN THIS NIGHT, is coming November 12, 2024.

Catch Up With Alex Kenna:
www.AlexKenna.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @akenna
Instagram - @alexkennabooks
Twitter/X - @AlexKenna9
Facebook

 

 Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

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Book Blitz of Here Lyeth by Johanna Frank(#contests- Win an Amazon Gift Card and a Copy of the Book)

Here Lyeth
Johanna Frank
(A Lifeline Fantasy Novel)
Publication date: November 1st 2024
Genres: Fantasy, Supernatural

A small-scale supernatural fantasy on big, real-life values. A story of rewiring unworthiness and searching for a place to belong. Pre-order your copy today for an extraordinary, heartwarming read that is sure to unearth you. Release date, November 1, 2024.

Answers are buried beneath a grave marker. Only it happens to be her own.

Something was missing. It was easy for Lexxie to bury that niggling sense, she had all the love and protection a young woman needed. But when the man she thought to be her father spilled a fever-pitched confession—that she’d been taken from her real family as an infant—her content and isolated life ended.

STIRRING… EXTRAORDINARY… UPLIFTING…

Angry and heartbroken, Lexxie left the people she loved on a mere hint—her true father lived in Vereiteln Dorf, two villages over. Once there, she’s drawn to an unconsecrated graveyard. Since answers don’t come easy from the locals, she’s forced to make many assumptions and patch puzzling pieces together. But the more she does, the more her presence in this superstitious village becomes a threat, and the more she gives credence to a voice coming from a pit of ashes. The perils of a noose amid a 1688 witch hunt lay heavy on her shoulders.

Years earlier, in the same village, young Meginhardt succumbs to a vicious attack. Ethereal beings take him on a time-traveling journey to shake away the lad’s deeply rooted struggles of unworthiness.

But when Meginhardt learns that some woman named Lexxie is the chosen one to carry forward his father’s line of descendants, he throws away all he’s been shown. Fits of jealousy ensue—a dream shattered. It should have been him. He becomes frantic to ensure the demise of this undeserving woman. In apparitional form, he delivers Lexxie a message, face to face.

Her future lyeth in his words.

-The standalone background story to the Prologue in The Gatekeeper’s Descendants
-Book length approximately 90,000 words
-Recommended for Young Adults (14+) and up
-An edifying story involving feelings of unworthiness and a need to belong
-A small-scale fantasy representing the outskirts of heaven

More from the author:

The Gatekeeper’s Descendants, a standalone family drama involving bullying and grief

Jophiel’s Secret, a standalone adventure involving unforgiveness and grief

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Anger tucked aside, she scurried up without bothering to read the inscriptions on the risers. Needing the strength of both arms, she pulled the door open wide. The haunting drawn-out creak confirmed a renewal of focus on her single priority. Find my lineage, my true father. Then new life is certain to follow.

An entrance hall revealed itself, though dark with looming shadows. Unable to avoid inhaling the displeasing odor, a mixture of lingering day-old incense and strong lye soap, her throat did a gaggle. Nothing like the sweet-pine pews inside her white-stucco church.

Attempting to step quiet-like, she still clicked her shoes against the marble floor, her feet inside all that lavish commenced to swell and pine for attention. Huh, stomping through town in modish spikes, ’tis not wise.

A figure across the room sat up on its knees and twisted a neck to inspect the visitor. Even in the darkness, the woman appeared maturely aged.

Unfolding with a painful slowness, the woman stood and rubbed her hands into her apron. With such a crippling figure, she couldn’t have had an easy go at life. Her head, a weighty slump, her neck, cranked to one side. Had she eaten in a while? So thin. And dressed in all black. Scrubbing a floor that already shone—preparing for a wedding or cleaning after the ceremony of a disposed corpse perhaps?

“State yer business,” the woman gnarled.

The plucky tone surprised. “Guten morgen, I’m, ah, here to examine the registers for births and deaths—if I may.” Politeness best protect her from being turned away. Harmon always said one achieved more with kindness than with harshness.

“Yer a stranger.” The woman’s shaking middle finger accused.

Huh. This woman the epitome of the latter.

“Madam, ’tis that I am. Please be, I intend no harm. I assure you. Just seeking. I shan’t be long.” Should be easy to check births around the time of her own, though this woman need not know that specific detail.

“Seeking? Huh, seeking ye what?”

Was it so wrong to seek? Lexxie sucked in a full breath. Her throat irritated by resins, she stifled a cough. But nay, she hadn’t come all this way to permit some grumpy old spinster to blockade her. Forget the kindness of honey, Harmon. Time for some harsh vinegar.

“Are ye cloaking history? Is that what you are saying, madam?”

The old woman shot an indication to a wooden door hidden beside the nave.

Lexxie jockeyed between pews in the direction the bony finger specified, stifling the clicks of her shoes as much as possible.

Whew. She knocked.

“We don’t lock history.” The old woman’s crusty voice echoed, having the last word.

This door, not nearly the heft nor clangor as the one fronting the church, Lexxie nudged and invited herself in. Larger than one might expect, the narrow room hosted wooden shelving loaded with books up to the ceiling sidelong. A movable ladder rested against the end wall, and an unlit kerosene lamp awaited on the single high table.

Help would be nice, some guidance as to the order of records. Lexxie glanced back where the scowling woman gave her a second glance. Then again, Lexxie could figure it out herself. After lighting the lamp, she shut the door for privacy.

A musty flavor and layers of dust from decades past awoke and scurried about. No window to allow a breeze of any sort. Once her sneezes settled, she walked the length of the room, thankful now for those daylong lessons in reading and writing with Grossmutter. ’Twas the age of enlightenment, Grossmutter would say. She kept at least one lesson ahead of Lexxie, so as to in turn share the blessing.

A thin cotton curtain covered one section of shelving beside a nailed sign—Prohibited Books. She edged closer to shelving with books of various sizes, difficult to distinguish due to caging, each row with its own locked latch. Huh, don’t lock history, say you?

She wandered to a series of consistent volumes laying heavy on their own, their leathery pasteboard covers bound with cord and red edging their pages. Numbers stitched atop.

Years, yes! Those ones were organized by years. They had to be the records she sought.

All she possessed now was her birth year. Harmon wouldn’t have lied about her age, would he?

A shiver ran through her veins. There had to be over seventy books, each covering a year, each varying in thickness.

Here it be: 1671. Energizing another dust cloud with a loud exhale, she heaved the book off the shelf and clutched it tight to her bosom. Her heartbeat thumped against the pasteboard cover. The registry for the year she was born must speak to her, reveal information she was desperate for. Vital to get on with any way of future.

She released her gripping hug, placed the heavy book on the table, and wiped dry her sweaty palms down the skirt of her new frock.

Overwhelm assaulted her. Harmon, the loving father she adored all those years. Grossmutter, the wise, gentle, and kind grandmother, her only female influencer. Was it true they be not her family? Would opening this book mean turning her back on them?

’Course, she’d already done so, hadn’t she?

If only they were cruel or unloving. Made her work like a slave. Cussed and cursed her day in and day out. This then would be so much easier. Her fingers twitched to shove the book back onto its shelf. Her legs urged her to take flight, run all the way back to Avondale, and bury this outlandish nonsense.

But nonsense, it weren’t.

The pounding in her chest begged to keep going, threatening to explode if she stopped now. She almost missed the rubbing of hinges, the only door to this library tomb opening, a male figure entering, the unwelcoming floor-polishing ogre poking her head around him to catch a glimpse.

“Searching, are we?” The man’s monotoned query struck an unexplainable chord.

Author Bio:

Not proud to admit, I’ve struggled with authority and routine since I can remember. A feisty red-headed child, I’ve barrelled my fist through windowpanes, ran away numerous times (to a bowling alley of all places), and even once, used a water pistol on my high school science teacher (right in his face, it was a dare). I actually managed to attain a master’s degree in business (though, really didn’t use it much). Instead, I preferred weekday evening classes in theology and weekend scribbling sessions of fantasy fiction. Losing a beloved teenage daughter to cancer snapped me to attention, then another (the second, a dear step-daughter) really did me in. Besides relishing the dearness of my husband and our other three children and their families, I write fantasy fiction with meaning. My mantra (which I made up of course) …because even a little heavenly imagination can loosen the chains of life. - Johanna Frank

"Frank, one of Canada’s emerging authors in spiritual fantasy, walks a fine line between general fantasy and faith-based fiction. Her work aims to innovate and transcend traditional boundaries, catering to a hungry market of curious readers who don’t want to be preached to but are open to exploring spiritual themes through fantasy." - Sheri Hoyte, Reader Views

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook

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Excerpt and Spotlight of the Book Tender Temptation by Kaylene Winter -Mature Readers only(#Contest- Win A Signed Copy of the Book)

Tender Temptation
Kaylene Winter
(Charming Irish, #1)
Publication date: October 3rd 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Tender Temptation is a scorching tale of age-gap, insta-forbidden-love, hidden identities, coming of age, and second chances.

I’m a master at rebuilding structures, yet my own life is a constant work in progress. As the middle brother in a family of superstars, I’ve battled alcohol addiction and shoulder the hefty challenge of taking over the family business.

My world makes a seismic shift when I fall hard for Ivy Bright, a vibrant, enigmatic firecracker whose captivating energy makes me feel invincible.

Ivy is more than just a spark in my shadowed world—she’s a blaze. Her luminous presence ignites a clandestine desire in me that I can’t resist. But Ivy harbors deep secrets and a tragic past that keeps her trapped in a life she never chose. Despite our undeniable chemistry, her decision to conceal her age and identity backfires spectacularly, threatening to unravel both our hearts.

Years later, will our rekindled passion withstand buried secrets that come to light, or will the truths of our past push us apart forever?

Goodreads / Purchase

 

EXCERPT:

Her body was sculpted for temptation. Short, cut-off shorts showed off her long, muscled legs to perfection. The black bodysuit she wore clung to her curves, leaving nothing to my imagination. Her tits. God, her tits. Creamy mounds of deliciousness spilling out of her top. Her nipples practically poked through the fabric.

She was, without question, the most exquisite woman I’d ever laid eyes on. The ultimate paradox of innocence and allure. A saint cloaked in the clothes of a siren.

I couldn’t look away. Not for a second. I knew I had to have her.

The way she moved through the crowd—poised and self-assured with a hint of awkward—reminded me of a newborn fawn taking in the world for the first time.

I watched her, transfixed, like a schoolboy.

Then, as if compelled by a gravitational pull, she turned to me and her turquoise eyes caught mine.

And it was all over.

Brennan listens with rapt attention. He doesn’t interrupt or give any indication he’s judging me. I drop the bomb.

“I should have known better.” My voice is a whisper of shame. “I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. Hell, I didn’t even register there could be consequences until it was too late.”

“Shit, man. You never told me the whole story. Heavy.” He leans back in the booth and scrubs his stubble with his big paw. “Things make more sense now.”

I’m not a man who cries easily, but my eyes sting with unshed tears. I’m nauseous with desperation. “At the time, I thought I was justified. But, what I did…how it ended. I’m ashamed.” My admission is raw and frightening. Brennan well knows about my descent into hell after it all went down—he’s the one who helped pull me out.

My brother reaches across the table and grabs my wrist. “People make mistakes. It wasn’t your fault. Work your steps. Forgive yourself, it’s in the past.”

“Easier said than done.” I shake my head sadly.

He arches an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because she’s back.” I wince and recap what happened earlier today.

Brennan’s skin pales. “Oh,fuck"

 

Author Bio:

When she was only 15, Kaylene Winter wrote her first rocker romance novel starring a fictionalized version of herself, her friends and their gorgeous rocker boyfriends. After living her own rockstar life as a band manager, music promoter and mover and shaker in Seattle during the early 1990’s, Kaylene became a digital media legal strategist helping bring movies, television and music online. Throughout her busy career, Kaylene lost herself in romance novels across all genres inspiring her to realize her life-long dream to be a published author. She lives in Seattle with her amazing husband and dog. She loves to travel, throw lavish dinner parties and support charitable causes supporting arts and animals.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok

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Book Blitz of Killer Motives by Bonnie Traymore (#Contests- Win An Amazon Gift Card)

 

Killer Motives
Bonnie Traymore
Publication date: April 14th 2022
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Suspense

 

“A riveting, pulse-pounding, adrenaline rush of a thriller. Do not miss this book!” – Noelle W. Ihli, author of Gray After Dark

Readers’ Favorite 2023 Silver Medal Award Winner, Mystery-Murder
Audiobook Reviewer 2023 Best Mystery Award

Victoria’s life isn’t as perfect as it seems. But with two homicide detectives on her doorstep, it’s about to get a lot worse.

Still reeling from the shocking discovery that her husband is having a passionate affair with his real estate client, Victoria struggles to process the mind-blowing news that Nick’s lover is dead—brutally murdered in cold blood on the very same evening she uncovered the truth.

And now two detectives are on her doorstep, waiting to question both of them. Is she a suspect?

With little hard evidence and no shortage of suspects with “killer motives,” Detectives Jack Stark and Lexi Sanchez are under intense pressure to solve the high-profile murder case that rocks the picturesque village of Tarrytown just as the town is gearing up for the area’s annual Halloween festivities and an influx of tourists.

As Victoria sets out to clear herself and find out the truth, she’s faced with two terrifying possibilities—either her husband is a murderer or someone is out to get them.

Conflicted about her marriage and emotionally raw, she sets out to find the truth about what happened that night.

But does she really want to know?

Perfect for fans of Shari Lapena, Jeneva Rose, Sarah Pekkanen, Kaira Rouda, or Shalini Boland.

Add to Goodreads / AMAZON

—

EXCERPT:

Victoria was home working off some nervous energy as she put the dishes away and wiped yesterday’s smudges off the white Shaker cabinet doors. Out the kitchen window, the sun sparkled magically on the Hudson River reflecting the scarlet and gold of the fall foliage clinging to its steep banks. Her melancholy mood from the evening before had turned to excitement, bolstered by a bit too much caffeine on an empty stomach and her Alanis jams playing in the background. She had already called her attorney and had an appointment for next week. She would put all that out of mind until then. Today, she had a meeting scheduled at her office at eleven this morning, an important one, and her benefit dinner tonight. It was now half past nine and she needed to get going. She was almost finished emptying the dishwasher in her methodical manner–only a few cups were left–when her cell phone vibrated against the granite island countertop, its dark surface blending in with the stone. She reached over to grab it. There was a text from her husband: It’s an emergency. Call me.

There were also three missed calls from him and a voicemail. Nick was not given to hyperbole. Quite the opposite. He was actually a bit too laid back, never worrying much about anything. He had never sent a text like that before. She called immediately, not bothering to check her voicemail, putting it on speaker as she finished her chores.

“Vic?” His voice was soft, almost apologetic. He didn’t seem hurt or in danger.

“Nick. What is it?” She felt mildly annoyed, already.

“I have something to tell you, and I’m warning you it’s pretty shocking.” Was he actually going to confess about the affair now? Over a cell call? That was totally unlike him.

“I have to get to work, Nick. What’s so urgent?” She was starting to wish she’d ignored his text.

“My client. From the Shady Hill property. The one I went to see last night? The police called me. She was found dead. At her house. This morning.”

Victoria placed the last clean mug on the counter. Dead? A heart attack or something? No. The police wouldn’t call Nick for something like that. There had to be more to it. She picked up the phone and took it off speaker.

“What happened?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t know, but a homicide detective is meeting me at the house any minute now. They called and wanted to meet with me in person. ‘See if I could shed some light on it,’ was how he put it. Jeff told me to meet them at our house, not at the station.”

“Homicide? She was murdered?” Victoria had to hand it to Nick. This certainly reached the bar of ‘emergency.’

“They didn’t say that, exactly. He said he’d tell me more in person. I don’t know much more than you do at this point. What if I was the last person to see her alive, Vic?” Nick’s voice was shakier now, almost panicky.

“So? You’re certainly not responsible for her death?”

“That’s what Jeff said.”

“What does Jeff have to do with this? You called Jeff before you called me?” She thought that sounded like the actions of a guilty person, reaching out to your attorney friend. But guilty of what?

“He’s an attorney! And he knows her! I told you, remember? They had that law suit going. Let’s not do this now. Please!” His tone was harsher now, devoid of sentimentality. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. The detective might get there before I do. They’ll probably want to question you too. Tell them I’m on my way. I’d appreciate some support. I’m your husband, Victoria, please try to remember that.” He hung up.

She picked up the mug she’d left on the counter, looking out to the sun’s rays sparkling on the Hudson, her thoughts suspended in the timeless currents of the flowing river. It was all starting to hit her now, just what a disaster this was. The photos that were supposed to liberate her from the marriage were now a liability, potentially placing her at a crime scene. What do detectives look for? Means, motive, and opportunity? She had two out of three for now. Should she be worried? And what about Nick? He was acting strangely last night, and she’d attributed it to a guilty conscience. The affair, she assumed. But could it have been more? She knew Nick wasn’t overtly violent, but anyone could commit murder given the right circumstances. What if the woman had gotten pushy? Demanding? Threatening? How far would Nick go to protect what was his? She needed time to think, consult with an attorney. But she didn’t have the luxury of time.

The gate buzzer sounded, jolting her out of her stupor, and the mug slipped from her hand, shattering into pieces on the travertine tile floor. She quickly picked up the big chunks, but the shards of porcelain would have to wait.

Author Bio:

Bonnie Traymore is the Amazon Bestselling author of seven domestic/psychological thrillers. Her thrillers feature strong but relatable female protagonists who peel back the layers of suburban American life and give readers a peek inside. The plots explore difficult topics such as jealousy, infidelity, murder, and the impact of psychological disorders, but she also includes bits of romance and humor to lighten the mood from time to time. She's an active status member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America.

Bonnie has a doctorate in United States history and has taught at top independent high schools as well as Columbia University and the University of Hawaii. Originally from the NYC area, she resides in Honolulu with her family.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

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Book Blitz of Let's Not & Sleigh WeDid by J.P. Sterling (#Contests- Win a Gift Card)

Let’s Not and Sleigh We Did
J.P. Sterling
(Christmas Shenanigans)
Publication date: October 25th 2024
Genres: Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Oh, oh, the mistletoe, hung where I did NOT see.
My brother’s friend waits for me and gets down on one knee—What is happening?

Somebody stop it, please!
Oh, those dreamy blue eyes batting at me, and all the words he dares to say.
This is bad.
Like really, really bad.
We’re now planning a wedding day.
But it’s all for a good reason, not love.
Oh, cough, cough, let’s not bust out the L-word.
It’s purely business.
It is a solid plan until it isn’t.
So maybe I love him, but we agreed not to do that . . . whoops!

Let’s Not and Sleigh We Did is a fake marriage of convenience, brother’s best friend, just-kisses-but-all-the-swoons romcom. Oh, yeah, there’s a fluffy cow too!

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

A ring.

Not just any ring, a rose gold band.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, a little harshly, the ring pulsating in my peripheral vision.

“We talked about this, remember?” Luke’s voice drops, rasping.

“We talked about marriage.” I tilt my head to one side, as if I’m physically dividing this argument in half., “But not this, and not in front of them.”

“You’re being modest.” He laughs, tossing a look back at his parents. “I thought it would be nice to share this moment with them.”

“You did?” my voice squeaks, as I’m totally blindsided and wishing I had at least a heads- up. The arrangement had sounded so much more business casual than what’s going on right now. A proposal on one knee is not business casual. This is my heart in my throat, and I’m about to throw up. “Where did you get a ring?” I hiss.

“I bought it today.”

“Today?” I grapple for my throat, praying something gives before I pass out.

“Yeah, today when I was thinking about you.”

Doing a hard pause on the word, you, he’s still holding the ring awkwardly in his hand. I frantically search his face for signs of a prank, but he doesn’t have an ounce of humor curved into a smile.

He’s one-hundred-percent serious.

Quakes rumble against my rib cage. This is an act. I’m clearly about to blow our cover as I’m acting so confused, but this whole thing is blowing my mind. “This is happening so fast.”

“It’s okay. Better than okay.” He takes my hand in his, holding it in front of him. “Ten years ago, you kissed me on a dare. You didn’t know it at the time, but I was already falling in love with you. You were my first kiss, but I knew in that moment, I wanted you to be my last.”

I blink. Everything about his proposal sounds genuine.

My gaze floats to his mom; her hands clasp together in front of her, but her gaze is piercing in my direction. Luke’s dad has a that’s-my-boy grin laced on his lips.

And Luke!

Luke’s winning an Oscar for his acting. His gaze dials right into mine, like it’s boring a trail through my eyes right to my heart. I can’t even tell it’s a fake proposal, and I one-thousand- percent know it’s fake.

It is fake . . . right?

Author Bio:

J.P. Sterling grew up watching old reruns of Lucille Ball and Mary Tyler Moore and fell in love with wholesome entertainment and slapstick comedy. She loves leaning into the over-the-top humor and full circle moments, especially if it means the underdog gets to shine.

Aside from writing, she's also a wife and homeschooling mom, a holistic dietitian, a former college professor and lover of all things dark chocolate.

*No swears. Just kisses. No Blasphemies.*

Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Amazon

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Book Blitz of Where Eagles Nest by Helen F. Wand (#contests- Win a copy of the book)

Where Eagles Nest: The Second Wave of Pioneers
Helen F. Wand
Publication date: April 21st 2024
Genres: Adult, Historical

“Where Eagles Nest chronicles a young couple, Alex and Julianna Lampert, as they immigrate from Lichtenstein, in search of land where they can raise a family and participate in the American dream. The young newlyweds eventually settle in the rugged hills and pasturelands above the Sandy River in Oregon, where they forge a life of love and pursue their quest for prosperity in spite of the struggle in the wild terrain of the Pacific Northwest in the 1880s.”
—Sharon Nesbit, writer and historian, author of It Could’ve Been Carpdale.

“You will laugh, grieve, and rejoice with [Alex and Julianna] and their neighbors. Helen Wand’s brilliant research breathes life into the slice of local history that will stay with you long after the last page is turned.”
—Alice Lynn, author of Wrenn: Egypt House, Volunteers for Glory, and Scattered Pieces

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

—

EXCERPT:

JULY 4, 1885

The fourth of July dawned sunny, promising a warm day. The wind came from the east, drying everything in its path. Julianna chose her prettiest blue church dress, a gingham with puffed sleeves. Might as well get some wear out of this, she thought, It’ll be awhile before we go to church again.

She watched Alex button his clean white shirt. “You look so handsome,” she said, kissing his newly shaven cheek. “I like you without whiskers.”

“No whiskers,” he said rubbing his face. “Don’t you want me to look like a mountain man?”

“No, I like you to look like you did when I met you, with just a bit of a rakish mustache.”

The families walked down the path to Taylors.

“I wish you’d waited for us to help you hook up the horses,” Alex said to the old man.

“No, no today is my treat,” Taylor said. “You young fellers help me all the time.”

It’s true, Julianna thought, Alex and Franz helped Taylor as much as he helped them.

The hot east wind dried the road enough to harden the mud, but not enough to be dusty, making the trip pleas- ant. Julianna noticed Taylor smiling as he listened to them chatter.

The horses strained as they plodded up the steep winding trail. There was a spring almost at the top of the hill where they stopped to water the horses and everyone got out and stretched their legs. Then one more short pull to the top where they hit the Wire Trail and turned east.

“In the summer, the east wind is hot and dry. By tomorrow it will be in the 90s, mark my words and that’s fire season,” Taylor chatted as they drove. “I encourage you young folks to cut timber down around your houses as a fire break and keep the dry grass down. Get a goat if nothing else to keep foliage under control.”

It was close to noon when they arrived at the city park in Latourell. Tables, already collecting huge platters of food, were set up under the shade trees. People were arriving from all directions. Musicians were busy setting up their chairs and stands in the pavilion

Julianna couldn’t believe her eyes. Here in the middle of the wilderness were people eager to dance and celebrate their independence.

“There must be a hundred people here,” Alex said.

“You bet. Everyone comes to this. It’s the biggest event of the year. It’s in the summer so people can get to it.” Taylor stopped the team so the group could disembark. He smiled and nodded to an older balding gentleman and his gray- haired companion. “That’s Fred Hicklin and his wife Sarah.”

“Must be where Hicklin Bottoms on the Sandy River got its name,” Alex said.

“Yup, they’re the ones. Been there before I came to this country and I came in ’66,” Taylor said as he climbed back up in the driver’s seat.

Author Bio:

Raised in Columbia River Gorge country in Oregon, Helen Wand graduated from Corbett High School and obtained her degree from Marylhurst University. Spending her early career as a medical technologist working in various hospital laboratories, she later founded the Clinical Laboratory Assistant/Phlebotomy program at Clackamas Community College, where she performed the duties of director and lead instructor.

All the while, she pursued her love of history, joining local historical societies and documenting early Oregon stories. Helen published her first historical novel, Where Eagles Nest, The Second Wave of Pioneers in 2013. Echoes of Forgotten Places continues the Lampert family saga in the early 1900s as they struggle to save their land and maintain their homestead in the wild, rugged terrain high above the Columbia River.

Now retired, Helen resides in Gresham, Oregon, where she gardens, writes, and volunteers at the Troutdale Historical Society, the Crown Point Country Historical Society, and the Northeast Multnomah County Pioneer Association.

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Amazon

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Review of A Hush at Midnight by Marlene M. Bell- A Breathtaking Mystery. (#Contest- 3 winners )

 

I want to welcome Marlene M. Bell to Books R US. Marlene is surfing the blogosphere with Partners in Crime Book Tours. Read my review and enter the giveaway below. Thanks for stopping by.

Book Details:

Genre: Amateur Sleuth/Mystery/Cozy Mystery
Published by: Ewephoric Publishing
Publication Date: October 1, 2024
Number of Pages: 368
ISBN: 979-8-9863409-6-8
Book Links: Amazon | Goodread

 

From the award-winning author of the ANNALISSE MYSTERY SERIES.

THE VISIT THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING.

Celebrity chef Laura Harris dwells on the horror of finding her mentor’s body in the groundskeepers disheveled bed—pillow and bedding half covering her open eyes—purple bruising around her mouth. A grisly snapshot in time revealing the Texas woman’s last moments during her attack. The elderly matriarch from the small town of Stenburg has left the physical world, and Laura is shattered.

She is catapulted headlong into the pursuit of a casual executioner, one bold enough to come and go from the crime scene with ease, dropping bizarre crumb trails designed to mock the deceased. But Laura herself doesn’t go unnoticed. As she digs deeper, she is followed and bombarded by warnings to leave the state.

When the victim’s attorney informs Laura that she’s to inherit the entire Stenburg fortune, the last act of kindness has made Laura the main person of interest in the investigation.

Message by message, Laura is methodically taunted by someone so deranged and driven they’ll do whatever it takes to dislodge Laura from Texas – permanently.

 

About the Author:

Marlene M. Bell has never met a sheep she didn’t like. As a personal touch for her readers, they often find these wooly creatures visiting her international romantic mysteries and children’s books as characters or subject matter. Marlene is an accomplished artist and photographer who takes pride in entertaining fans on multiple levels of her creativity.

Marlene’s award-winning Annalisse series boasts Best Mystery honors for all installments including these: IP Best Regional Australia/New Zealand, Global Award Best Mystery, and Chanticleer’s International Mystery and Mayhem shortlist for Copper Waters, the fourth mystery in the series.

She offers her children's picture book, Mia and Nattie: One Great Team! written primarily for younger kids based on true events from the Bell’s East Texas sheep ranch. The simple text and illustrations are a touching tribute of belonging and unconditional love between a little girl and her lamb.

Catch Up With Marlene M. Bell:

www.MarleneMBell.com
Goodreads - @dorsetghal
BookBub - @dorsetgalwrites
Instagram - @marlenemysteries
Twitter/X - @ewephoric
Facebook
Facebook - @marlenembell
Amazon Author Page

Purchase the Book on Amazon: 

My Thoughts:

 
"A Hush at Midnight" is a well-written, action-packed, and fast-paced book with believable characters who complement each other. The protagonist, Laura, her father Zane, and Brett, Hattie's estate lawyer, work together to solve the murder of Laura's mentor, Hattie. I stayed up late to finish the book because the author is a fantastic writer, and I couldn't put the book down. Throughout the book, there were twists and turns that kept me engaged. Usually, I can figure out who the killer is early in the book, but this one stumped me. I was on the edge of my seat until the end. Great job, Ms. Bell. I look forward to your next book.

Tour Participants:

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Win Big! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

 

CLICK HERE TO ENTER GIVEAWAY  

 

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Marlene M. Bell. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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Disclaimer: I received a copy of the book for my honest review and I was not compensated for my review