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Guest promotion of The Second Pillar by Kitty Shields

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A Tale of Masks, Monsters, & Chai

Kate McGovern has survived her first job long enough to get fired from it. But she has not come out empty-handed. Now a Pillar of Heaven, Kate bears the weight of a quarter of the sky. And she is looking forward to her next chapter, whatever that is. But the world is still in danger.

When another Pillar of Heaven is killed in a natural disaster, Kate must travel to Indonesia to locate the body and pass the Pillar on before the sky teeters and falls. Soon enough, Kate and her team realize the natural disaster was, in fact, supernatural. As powerful enemies strive to destroy the world, Kate, with the help of some new friends, fights to restore the balance. Oh, and she needs to find a new job too.

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EXCERPT

Kate McGovern did not work for Mr. Waites, billionaire businessman, evil overlord, and general pain in the ass anymore. She had yet to sign a short-term contract he’d offered her as a consultant on an artifact retrieval mission because, well, the delay annoyed him. She knew it annoyed him because she could read minds and she was very practiced at reading Mr. Waites’s mind. He called her into a meeting at his office last week to discuss the contract a.k.a. demand that she sign it so they could get on with finding the missing Pillar of Heaven. Kate had very happily told him she was still considering her options, and then delighted in his chagrin.

However, she wasn’t reading his mind right now. No, she was standing in a faded Starbucks t-shirt and flannel shorts, leveling a Medusa-style death glare at Jack, who did work for Waites, evil overlord that he was, as an executive assistant. Jack had also woken her up at 2 a.m. He grinned then winced, clasped his bandaged ribs while shifting on her pea green couch uncomfortably.

His face was fully healed from the beating he’d taken at the hands of the bad guys, who’d tried to steal a Pillar of Heaven. There was a scar on his temple where a steel-toed boot had nailed him, but Jack had survived. He walked slowly, shuffled really as he battled the pain. The bandages around his trunk secured his fractured ribs, and the gunshot wound in his side was now a scab. He was alive, but not quite whole.

“Why are you out of bed, let alone bothering me on a Monday of all days?” Kate demanded, crossing arms over her braless chest. Any other male would have immediately stared. Her assets were quite lovely. Jack didn’t notice her breasts. He did, however, spot her unshaved legs and made a mental note to send her a coupon for a good waxer. His waxer did excellent work.

For her part, Kate thought that if it had been anyone else knocking on her door at 2 a.m., she would have shut it in their face and gone back to bed.

“That’s why,” Jack said, referencing her thoughts. Jack was a telepath too. Annoyingly so. “He knew you wouldn’t answer for anyone else.”

Kate narrowed her eyes. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re out of bed.”

Jack ignored the question and petted her pea green couch instead. “I think this is the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen,” he murmured.

Kitty Shields (she/her) lives outside Philadelphia, where she writes to overcome the fact that she was born a middle child with hobbit feet, vampire skin, and a tendency to daydream. She has a book coming out with The Wild Rose Press in August 2023.

 

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Guest promotion for The Judas Seat by Katherine Pritchett

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When a South Korean defector takes the reins of North Korea, the world teeters on the edge of a nuclear abyss. The only man all parties will agree to lead the negotiations is the man who doesn’t want the job—former American diplomat Richard Matthews. And someone at the table wants the negotiations to fail. Can Richard unmask the Judas in time?

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EXCERPT

He boarded the train, making his way toward the “hard” or cheap seats. Though padded and upholstered, the seat would feel very hard indeed on his long journey. He settled in and opened the newspaper he had purchased on his trip across the city. He kept his small pack, holding only three shirts, a second pair of trousers, and three sets of underwear and socks, on his lap. The light jacket he wore, he knew, would not be adequate for long when he arrived at his destination.

The train jerked several times as each car submitted to the pull of the engines. Slowly the momentum smoothed and picked up speed. The car rocked him to sleep somewhere along the dark journey north and east into the countryside. Thin morning sunlight nudged him awake as the train began to slow. Ahead, around a slight bend in the track, he could see the bridge across the Yalu, with Antung, China, on this side and Sinuiju, North Korea, on the other. Although his stomach tightened, he forced his demeanor to remain calm.

The train stopped to allow the North Korean border guards to enter. Thin, young, and stern-faced, they scrutinized the passengers as if they expected each to be a notorious international criminal. He supposed they would receive a medal and parade for shooting one. He blinked and placed his Chinese passport and papers in hand. The guards passed him by with just a cursory glance at the documents. Thanking God for his part-Chinese North Korean grandmother, he stared out the window at the brown early winter landscape while they completed their review of the car. Finally, the train began to move again. Another thirty minutes and the train stopped at Sunchon, North Korea.

Standing up, unobtrusively stretching stiff muscles, he put the Chinese papers in the backpack, and drew his real passport from his jacket. He stepped off the train under the watchful eye of still more soldiers. Without looking at them, he entered the station and found the office of the station master.

“May I help you?” a thin young woman looked up from her desk.

“Yes, please,” he answered quietly. “I have a matter I would like to discuss with the station master.”

“What is the nature of your business?” she barked.

“Please, just give him this.” He handed her his passport. “I think then he will see me.”

She opened the passport, poised to dismiss him and hand it back, but instead spun around for her boss’s office. Seconds later, she returned. “He will see you now.”

“Thank you.” He had barely entered the office, the door still closing, when he heard her pick up the phone and request soldiers. He stepped toward the desk, where the station master glanced from his passport to his face and back to the passport.

“You are Chung Hee Yu, South Korean cabinet minister?”

“I am.”

“Why are you here?”

Chung Hee met the man’s gaze. “I wish to defect.”

In nearly 35 years with a state agency, I travelled across the state and country, working with government policy makers, and trying to preserve our natural environment for generations. My Army son as a linguist worked to return our MIAs from Vietnam. These experiences appear in my writing.

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Guest promotion for White Hares and Midnight Dares by Laura Strickland

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Diana Gendarme has spent her life doing for others, so when she moves into her dream cottage, she’s ready for some “me” time. But the cottage is shabby and her new neighbors quite close. One of them makes a din in his blacksmith’s forge all day long yet has the nerve to complain about her beagle’s yodeling. He’s the last sort of man who should attract Diana. So why can’t she resist the absurd dares he persists in issuing?

Reg Coltsfoot doesn’t plan on falling for his neighbor. A lifelong charmer, he’s used to women falling for him instead. There’s just something about Diana that has him longing to draw her out of her staid life and into his. Maybe it’s the magic of spring, but Reg will do all he can to persuade Diana she needs his laughter and his love to light her days.

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EXCERPT

Reg Coltsfoot was a charmer, all right. He probably knew it, as did every woman who’d been standing and watching him work. She couldn’t be foolish enough to get caught up in all that.

The charm, the rakish smile, and most of all the way he made her feel were the reasons she’d always avoided men of his ilk. He threatened her self-control. He wasn’t what she needed in her life.

She’d tended to be attracted to bookish men. Educated men, like Dad.

But Reg was here. Now. And the way he looked at her made her feel—so beautiful.

She told herself it was the dress. But then she remembered the way he’d looked at her when they stood at his gate.

Maybe not just the dress.

So all right, the attraction existed. Maybe even raw, animal attraction, though she’d never imagined herself capable of any such thing.

He would forget about her and their agreement to meet up later. He’d get engrossed in his work and some other lady would catch his eye.

Why did that thought bother Diana so much?

Laura Strickland enjoys researching interesting new settings for her books. Married, with one grown daughter, she has also mothered several rescue dogs and is intensely interested in animal welfare. Her love of dogs and her lifelong interest in Celtic history, magic and music, are all reflected in her writing.

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Guest promotion of Primrose and Promises by Judy Lynn Ichkhanian

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When Viscount Sebastian Trelawney meets Miss Phoebe Carmichael, the ground shifts beneath his feet. As she’s in mourning, Society’s rules say he cannot court her for a year, so he disguises himself as a servant in her home in order to see if they might suit.

Phoebe wishes to never marry. Wealthy and impatient, when she meets Sebastian everything in her calms. He understands her grief and how spring’s promise will lead to new life.

As secret organizations and mad Assyriologists battle, the two fall in love. Will their love prove strong enough to overcome societal norms and those set against their union?

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EXCERPT

He looked toward the perfectly manicured garden with its swathes of color like a rainbow. The blade of darker shadow he had seen earlier tumbled into his mind. Assyriology was a hazardous occupation, and not a hobby for the unwary. Someone should warn Miss Carmichael about the peril of trained assassins.

Not him, of course. She must already think him softheaded. The Office should be notified, though. They would wish to send someone to investigate.

He was about to make a mental note to contact the agency later when she curled one leg under the other. The small patch of ankle earlier revealed transformed into a few inches of stocking-clad calf as her skirt blossomed around her. All thought fled as a sudden urge to press his lips to the trail of fine mesh rendered him unable to swallow.

“Good.” She fiddled with her skirt some more, covering her leg, before tilting her chin again. “If you don‘t mind my asking, might I have your name?”

“My… oh! I‘m… oh.”

Fire crept from his toes to his hairline. Unbelievable. Of course, someone else should have provided an introduction. He shouldn‘t have spoken with her at all without one, but once he had… had he truly forgotten to give her his name?

Tossing his plate to the side, he jumped to his feet so he might bow. “Sebastian Edgars, Viscount Trelawney. Newly minted.”

She extended her hand. Gray dirt streaked her black glove. He bent over it anyway. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord Trelawney. As you seem to be aware, I am Miss Carmichael.”

“I knew you by your crape and golden hair.” Another wave of feverishness sped up his face as he stumbled, so he decided to sit again before he tripped into her lap.

She laughed. “You‘re quick.”

“How generous of you to say so when I‘ve never plodded so badly in my life. I used to be a solicitor. My brain was my fortune, though I suppose you might find the claim difficult to believe.”

“I wouldn‘t, no.” She peeped at him from beneath her lashes. “How is it you worked at a profession?”

It was the easiest question to answer. “I never expected to receive the title, but the ague made its rounds, a few horses missed their steps, ancestors died, contemporaries died, and here I am, one of two remaining heirs out of eight potential branches filled with better possibilities.”

Her golden eyes took on a soft glow. “I‘m rather glad you didn‘t follow the rest of your family.”

“Are you?” His pulse quickened.

She gazed down at her lap where her fingers twisted. “Though I shouldn‘t admit to it, yes. You‘re a very interesting man.” Blushing, she scraped her plate from the stone and placed it upon her lap. “We should eat, don‘t you think?”

Judy is a sort-of retired litigation attorney, a current homemaker with a propensity to ignore any and all domestic chores, and the mother of an outrageously comedic teenage boy and a fur-baby named Chocolate[1]the-Dog, so named because he thinks he’s a cat. High Tea and art occupy her when not writing.

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Review of Hometown by Wendy Rich Stetson

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This down-to-earth wholesome romance will wrap around you like a cozy quilt and warm your heart. Ms. Stetson has created in Tessa a heroine you can relate to and you sympathize when her as what she thought she wanted–a life in New York City–becomes tainted with the reality of spending time there.

In Jonas, Ms. Stetson shaped a hero who seems an unlikely match with forthright Tessa  at first but then ends up being the perfect man to help her realize her true goals.

I personally loved the peek at Amish life from the periphery and how she populated the town with characters you know you’ve met before.

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Guest Promotion for Anna’s Promise by D.G. Schulman

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In the spring of 1975, Ben Friedman will celebrate his rite of passage into adulthood. When his beloved grandfather suddenly dies and leaves him a mysterious inheritance, Ben begins to discover who he is and where he belongs. When he chooses a path his powerful father opposes, their relationship becomes volatile. Will Ben withstand the pressure?

In 1914, Dovid Weisman, Ben’s great-grandfather, struggles to protect his family when Germany declares war on Russia and the brutal Cossacks occupy his village of Siedlce, Poland. He finds that love and opportunity are still possible. If they can escape with their lives.

Slipping between war-torn Poland and modern American life, one family’s story is woven together across three generations.

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EXCERPT

The Cossacks flew in all directions, overturning furniture and emptying closets and cupboards.

“I want my daughter back,” Dovid repeated, pretending he was not the one who rescued her.

“Are you a gambling man?” Aleksandrov smiled.

“I’ll make you a wager.” Dovid sized up Aleksandrov. “We arm wrestle, and if I win, you back off, and I get my daughter back.” He stood resolute as though unaware that he was outnumbered and outgunned.

“And if I win, what do I get?” Aleksandrov’s nostrils flared, and he smiled with amusement.

“My other daughter.” Dovid stood eyeball to eyeball with Aleksandrov. Neither backed down.

The dragoon gathered around the table, and broken glass screeched beneath their boots. Aleksandrov removed his saber and his tunic. Hairy as a bear, he stepped close to the table with his right foot forward and placed his elbow on the table.

Dovid removed his wool coat and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. While physical strength mattered, he knew this was as much about positioning as strength. He placed his elbow on the table, tightened his core muscles, and opposed Aleksandrov. The two men gripped each other’s hand. The goal was to pin the other’s arm onto the surface of the table, the winner’s arm over the loser’s.

Mikola slammed his palm on the table, and the wrestling began. In an instant, merriment filled the room, and the Cossacks began their howls of encouragement and support for their commandant. Aleksandrov tried to rotate his hand over his opponent, and Dovid rotated his shoulder and body in the direction he wanted Aleksandrov’s arm to go. Aleksandrov twisted his wrist toward his chest and applied pressure. Dovid recognized the classic top roll and countered with a pulling motion and moved Aleksandrov’s hand toward him, applying force with his back and shoulders. Both men grimaced, and Aleksandrov grunted.

Dovid visualized Sora and Chana frozen in time as children playing in the park and laughing with gaiety and innocence. A surge of strength rose up in him. As Aleksandrov pushed in one direction, Dovid pulled in the other. Slowly, Aleksandrov’s arm inched closer to the table’s surface. Dovid curled his thumb underneath to secure a tighter grip and continued to pull, drawing strength from his back and shoulders, until Aleksandrov was pinned to the table.

Aleksandrov’s nostrils flared, and then his expression quickly changed to joviality, and he slapped his opponent on the back.

D.G Schulman is a publishing executive who married the boy next door and lives in the Midwest. She’s a member of the Jewish Book Council Author Network and the recipient of an Avery and Jule Hopwood award. When she’s not in front of a keyboard, she enjoys making chocolate, growing herbs, cooking, reading, and playing with her grandkids.

 

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Release Day for Tilda

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Today marks the release of TILDA, book 31 in the Prairie Roses Collection series. The heroine might look young, but she is feisty and loyal to a fault, often to her own detriment. I loved the way this character showed herself as I kept throwing adversities her way.

Following her parents’ death, Tilda Torsdotter turns to her cousin, Rakel, for help and joins her family’s preparations to head to California. Tilda’s job will be to assist pregnant Rakel with her two children under age five and receive the protection of Rakel’s husband, Albert. Then Rakel sickens and dies, and Albert looks to Tilda to fulfill her cousin’s duties–all of them.

Flynn Mannix has his eye set on reaching the gold fields of California. An easy-going guy, he’s always made his way doing one task or another but now he wants to make something of himself. Hiring on as a driver on a wagon train seems like the easiest way to reach the west coast. Until he witnesses an inappropriate encounter and steps in. Suddenly, he’s committed to a marriage of convenience with Tilda and responsible for her safety until they reach California. At the end of the trail, will the couple go their separate ways, or will they realize the experience has made their marriage real?

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Guest Promotion for The Jelly Bean Jump Project by Terry Segan

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Keira longed to do something amazing with her life. When offered a chance to join a time travel program, she didn’t hesitate. With her soulmate by her side, nothing could be more perfect.

Grayson never believed happiness would find him until he met Keira. Lightning struck twice when both got accepted into The Jelly Bean Jump Project.

Keira and Grayson were alone in the world except for each other. An adventure of a lifetime awaited, until a glitch in the system threatened to tear them apart. Would they walk away from their fantasy or surrender their hearts in exchange?

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EXCERPT

After picking up my tray, I searched for my boyfriend. He hadn’t arrived yet, so I took a seat next to my roommate, Sandra. I set my book on the chair to my right.

“Sometimes I feel like we’re in prison wearing these dang uniforms,” Sandra said.

“I must admit, I do miss my skirts and capris, and it’s only been a week! At least we don’t have to wear those nerdy boots like the security staff.” I sprinkled sugar over my cereal and mixed it in.

“Someone’s got a sweet tooth.” The chair beside me scraped back.

“Desmond, I’m saving that for Grayson.”

He tossed my book onto the table before placing his own tray down and sitting. “You two aren’t joined at the hip, you know. He can sit across from you.” His shoulder rubbed against mine. “Besides, why should he get all the attention from the best-looking doll here.”

I scooted closer to Sandra. “Do you mind? I’m eating.” While Desmond’s looks rivaled the most dashing actors in Hollywood, his arrogance raked through me like fingernails on a chalkboard. His relentless flirting repulsed me, especially because Grayson and I were obviously a couple.

“Good morning, ladies. Ready for another day of Time Travel 101?” Grayson plunked down across from me.

“I could do that stuff in my sleep. Why do we have to get stuck with an instructor who is such a snooze?” Desmond shoveled eggs into his mouth. “Sorry to take your seat, Gray. Keira insisted.” He nudged me with his elbow.

Before I could protest, Grayson jumped in. “Don’t worry about it, Des. From here I get to stare into those amazing blue eyes.” He kept his sight locked on my face.

A warm blush filled my cheeks. I looked down, batted my eyelashes, and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Why thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know whether to feel ill or jealous at the way you two fawn over each other,” Sandra said. Her comment had been directed at Grayson and me, but her gaze focused on Desmond.

 

Terry Segan resides in the desert where she’ll never require a snow shovel again. The beach is her happy place, but any travel soothes her gypsy soul. The stories conjured by her imagination while riding backseat on her husband’s motorcycle can be found throughout the pages of her paranormal mysteries.

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Release Day for Treise

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Today is the release day for Treise, part of the Rescue Me Mail-Order Brides multi-author series.

What’s special is I presented a heroine involved in women’s suffrage at a time when Wyoming was building its territorial government. Treise came from an Illinois town where a suffrage association existed for 14 years before the plot starts in early 1869. In this story, I used real names of those involved as a tribute.

BLURB:

Printer’s assistant Treise O’Hara works with her father who runs a small-circulation newspaper but wishes she could be a reporter investigating stories. Her father, Mahon, publishes a controversial op-ed about an unscrupulous business owner in Chicago. The newspaper office is invaded, and equipment is broken. Mahon is beaten and carted away. Hiding, Treise witnesses the attack and recognizes the thugs and who their boss is. She overhears their intention to bury him so she’s forced to go into hiding across town and stays in her cousin, Eveleen’s, room where she works as a maid. The women make a plan to answer ads for mail-order brides in a small city. Thinking her father is dead, Treise is counting on disappearing behind a new last name.

Sheriff Paxon Waldemarr works hard to keep the lawless element in Laramie City, Wyoming Territory, under control. His brother and sister-in-law were killed in a robbery, leaving their five-year-old daughter in Paxon’s care. He runs an ad for a mail-order bride, hoping for someone to care for his niece and maintain a household. His work life is hectic, and he wants calm at home. What he doesn’t expect is a determined suffragette intent on securing the vote for women in the new government. If her actions reflect on his career, how will their marriage survive?

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EXCERPT

“Mister Waldemarr?” Was this handsome man who she’d come to marry?

“We’re past the formalities. Please call me Paxon.” He stepped forward, then leaned close to brush a kiss on her cheek.

The gesture shocked her into silence. For a moment, she smelled cold air and something herbal. But the brush of beard stubble felt intimate, somehow. “All right, Paxon. And I’m Treise.”

“How was your trip?” He bent over to collect the bags.

The man had eyes of crystal blue like a frozen lake. “Long. The last several hours were downright cold.”

“Right. Welcome to Wyoming Territory.” He straightened, and his jacket fell open, exposing a black tailored shirt with a short, stand-up collar and matching waistcoat.

A glint of light flashed from a metal star pinned to his shirt. “Yer a lawman?”

Other conversations ceased.

After a stare around the room, Paxon transferred the bags to his right hand and cupped her elbow with his left. “Let’s go through to the hotel.”

Planting her feet, she straightened her spine. “I beg yer pardon?” The moment the question was spoken, she realized how much hadn’t been discussed about this arrangement. He might be a handsome devil with his Black Irish looks, but she didn’t travel across the country to toss aside her morals.

“Miss O’Hara, I wish for us to have a private conversation. The hotel lobby or the restaurant offers such a place.”

His whispered words blew warm breath against her temple, and she wanted to lean closer. Tilting back her head, she met his gaze, looking for a sign he intended anything except what he said. “Right ye are.” After two steps, she pulled away and spun toward the exit. “Me crate. I’ve got to claim it.”

“Crate? Do you mean you have a trunk?”

“Nay. A wooden crate. ’Tis marked with yer name and address.” A broad hand landed on her shoulder.

“I’ll claim the crate.” Looking up, he crooked his fingers in a beckoning signal. “Deputy Petrov, here, will escort you inside the hotel.”

Treise glanced at the muscled man with blond-brown hair who stepped close. She nodded, then watched over her shoulder as Paxon strode from the depot. Lordy be, she had not counted on such a man as him needing to place an ad in a matrimonial newspaper. A thrill went through her body. Maybe this decision would turn into an adventure.

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Guest release promotion for Touch and Go by EJ Towler

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Naval Aviator Jackson Williams is sure nothing can top the exhilaration of maneuvering a Super Hornet jet at over 1000 mph in rapidly changing battle scenarios, until he meets the lavender-eyed, Air Force Colonel Jennifer Ryan.

Jennifer Ryan’s once well-organized life is in shambles. Her marriage of twenty years is over thanks to her husband’s lying and infidelity. Vowing never to be hurt again, she works to build a new life with her daughters. Her plan continues until fate intervenes as she repeatedly encounters Jackson.

With him deploying soon Jennifer sees no harm in a date, but both fall hard and fast. Soon they’re thrown into a cat and mouse game with a stalker. Could it be one of Jennifer’s clients, someone from her past, or Jackson trying to secure her love?

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Reader can also contact me at ejtowler@ejtowler.com and order directly. They will get a signed copy and swag. Each book has a different charm. Bracelet comes with first purchase. Payment can be made via Paypal ejtowler@yahoo.com. Or contact me.  $!9.99.

EXCERPT

The word divorce froze Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Jennifer Ryan’s heart. Despite the internal battle she stood, spine pencil straight, and recited her mental mantra, don’t give in to the hurt and anger. Nothing will be gained by crying or losing your temper. Their daughters deserved a stable home. The constant military moves were disruptive enough. No matter what she had to endure their daughters came first and they loved their father, unconditionally.

For balance she placed her fingertips on the kitchen counter, drew in a long, slow breath, let it out gently. “What part of ‘I don’t want a divorce’ are you having trouble comprehending?” Her voice was low, but intense as she spoke over her shoulder to her husband.

Stalling to face him, she poured coffee into her brightly painted dachshund mug. The cup warmed her fingers. The aroma of dark roast coffee calmed her. She’d seen the signs, another affair, denied it. Damn! She was one of those women with her head in the sand. Emotions rose in her throat like bile.

Phillip paced the kitchen, turned to face her. “Whether you believe it or not our marriage is finished. I want a divorce.” He leaned in, his eyes cold, hostile, the stare so intense it caused her to hold her breath.

His harsh demeanor and tone chilled her to the bone. “I can’t accept it is. You’ve had affairs before and came back.” She unconsciously rubbed the top of the 1950s rectangle table. The first piece of furniture they’d scrimped and saved to buy.

EJ Towler lives in coastal Virginia and writes tales of extraordinary women and the men they love (or sometimes simply tolerate). Her first novel Stealth Maneuvers, a military romance, has multiple 5-star reviews on Amazon.

EJ is a veteran of the US Army, a retired psychology professor, and dachshund advocate. She and her service dog, Huckleberry Hound, are avid travelers for research and fun.

Her stories have unusual twists and turns, but none began on a dark and stormy night. Her books feature dachshunds who, along with the heroines, find their happily ever after. All EJ’s books and stories have a bit of truth from events in in her life. It is up to the reader to ferret out what’s fact and what’s fiction.

EJ is available for presentations to book clubs, reader/writer conferences, or anywhere readers come together.

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by author Linda Carroll-Bradd