Category Archives: Book Blasts
Book Blast – MERLIN RAJ AND THE DRONES OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Please click the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Mom’s Choice Gold Award Winner
“…the more conceptual discussion of algorithms is well done, and the story is satisfying and emotionally resonant.” — Kirkus ReviewsMy name is Merlin Raj and I live in Sleepy Hollow. Legend has it that a Headless Horseman haunts the town. Usually, I only have to worry about helping my boy, Matthew, to walk at school. But during the spookiest time of year, we’ll tackle the scariest creature of all—big brother.
Boo!
Will learning conditional logic save this family’s Halloween from certain doom?
Appealing to readers of all ages, Merlin Raj and the Drones of Sleepy Hollow is an ILLUSTRATED chapter-book. From artists to astronauts, the jobs of the future will deal with computers. But do kids want to read a coding book? Not as much as dog stories.
With a Computer Science degree and a passion for preparing kids for the future, author D. G. Priya blends technology with animal stories to stimulate a desire to read.Each book in the series introduces a new programming skill. If you or your child like delightful dog tales that explores universally positive themes, including empathy, kindness, dedication, and the importance of being true to one’s self, then you’ll love D. G. Priya’s tail-wagging adventure.
Read an Excerpt
After a rousing “Trick or Treat,” Matthew got some sticky taffy. He plunked it into the pumpkin-shaped plastic bag. He’d also put a second sack on my back, in case he ran out of room. We expected to knock on a lot of homes.
Peter marched up to the front door. He flew the pumpkin-head drone ahead of him. It had a small net hanging from it. Peter reached the lady giving out the candy. He drove the drone in front of the candy bowl in her hands and declared, “Trick or treat!”
“What?” Matthew muttered at my side. “He got two pieces.”
As he walked back toward us, Peter smirked. “Guess who’s going to win?”
“You cheater,” Matthew said.
I nodded in agreement.
“It’s not cheating if I’m just smarter,” Peter said.
About the Author:
D. G. Priya is the bestselling author Priya Ardis. She obtained her Bachelor’s of Science in Computer Science from the University of Texas at Austin, #6 in the world (Academic Ranking of World Universities, 2014) and #8 (US News, 2020) in Computer Science. Her advocacy of early education in computing and the challenges of childhood disabilities come from her experience as a parent and volunteer. Her love of dog stories comes from the antics of her own golden retriever.
Shelley Hampe is an author-illustrator. She is known for her work with Harvard University, illustrating a ground-breaking social-emotional learning program for children. She has a master’s in studio art and has taken part in world-recognized artist residencies in the United States. When she isn’t busy solving problems, Shelley can be found teaching STEAM principles to elementary aged kids. Shelley’s dog Beau, helped solve her problem of cold-feet while illustrating this book.
Author website: http://www.dgpriya.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dgpriya.author
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/priyaardis
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20125405.D_G_Priya
Follow on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/D.-G.-Priya/e/B085P2NMKD
Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/priyaardis
Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/D.-G.-Priya/e/B085P2NMKD
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/%22D.%20G.%20Priya%22
Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/author/d-g-priya/id1501769549
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/merlin-raj-and-the-drones-of-sleepy-hollow
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/D_G_Priya_Merlin_Raj_and_the_Drones_of_Sleepy_Holl
D.G. Priya will award a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly chosen winner via Rafflecopter.
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Book Blast – SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner.
Four warriors on one hell of a mission.
Lieutenant Colonel Tyler Graven is known as the “Demon of Kyoto,” and he specializes in death. When an assassin attempts to kill pharmaceutical mogul Mortimer Sackler, Tyler becomes the lead suspect and the target of a $100 million dollar hit. To save himself and clear his name, he must hunt down the true killer, a deadly entity known only as The Priest.
Tyler teams up with his former military unit, The Four Horseman, including his brother, crack-shot Corporal Jack Graven, the mysterious Lance Corporal Jin Xialong, and his one-time flame Colonel Diana Levitas. Once, they were an elite fighting team known for completing two of the most successful campaigns against terrorism ever launched. Now, they’ll find themselves locked in a war with The Church, the most influential organization on the planet–and pitted against the supernatural forces of the Underworld itself.
During their mission, Tyler and Jack learn of the legendary Black Muramasa, the only weapon that can destroy immortals such as demons, angels, vampires, seraphim, and nephilim. As they uncover the secrets of the ancient black blade–and their own heritage–they are faced with unforetold powers and infinite evils. If the Four Horsemen succeed, they may save themselves. If they fail, it’ll cost them their sanity, their lives, and even their souls…
Here comes an action-packed, gun-slinging fantasy adventure that packs the punch of a military thriller combined with high-stakes supernatural intrigue.
Read an Excerpt
Jack attacked high, elbows swinging in vicious hooks, while I swung a right roundhouse at the front of the priest’s right knee. The Priest deflected my first kick with his shin, but my second snapped out without hesitation toward his head. He brought his daggered hand up to block, which would have surely cut my leg to ribbons had I not pulled my kick. Simultaneously he swung his left dagger in a backhand at Jack’s face. Jack threw his body in a backward somersault, catching The Priest under the chin with a solid kick that sent him stumbling backward. I sought to capitalize by catching him in the right temple with a right heel kick, but The Priest managed to stab his left dagger through my foot.
I hobbled back in agony and collapsed to the floor. He turned his back on me and faced off against Jack. The two eyed each other in slightly crouched stances, their hands eye level before them.
“You chose the wrong side, pup,” The Priest mocked. “I had thought you were smarter than that.”
“If I had known you would kill an innocent woman, I would have killed you in that garage. You can’t even see the irony in your beliefs.”
“How innocent could the wife of that villain be? Did she do anything for all of the innocents that her husband killed?”
“Guilty by association then?”
“We all are.”
The Priest surged toward Jack, knives stabbing forward at neck, face, and armpits with merciless and unending precision. I had never seen blades dance the way his did. Every move was perfectly balanced and precision timed, each extension of his limbs perfectly stretched and recoiled. He was a finely tuned machine of death, and every ounce of his hate was drawn toward Jack.
About the Author:
Alex Stevens is a Marine Corps Veteran with two deployments and a graduate of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas Interdisciplinary Studies program, a unique undergraduate degree that caters to students with various interests of study. He is also an advent traveler and philosophy enthusiast who has spent a lifetime studying religions, with a focus on Non-denominational Christianity. Alex spends most of his time going for walks, spending time with loved ones, and when the juices are flowing, writing. Fantasy fiction is his great escape from the mundane and he likes to create fantastical realities that are blended with non-fictional people, places, and events.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20740528
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sympathy-Devil-Ballad-Fallen-Angels-ebook/dp/B08JQNJY76/ref=sr_1_1
THE AUTHOR WILL BE GIVING AWAY:
$15 Amazon/BN GC
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VBT – THE ROSE
The Rose
by PD Alleva
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Dystopian Science Fiction Thriller
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BLURB:
A masterful, dystopian science fiction thriller of underground genetic experiments, telepathic evil greys, mysterious rebellion, conspiracy, martial arts, and Alien Vampires.
Sandy Cox believed WW3 was over. But for those Alien Vampires, War Has Just Begun.
Forty-eight hours after a World War III treaty is signed Sandy Cox awakens in an underground compound unable to move. Tied to machines she screams for help but no one answers. At least NO ONE HUMAN.
And they’ve taken her unborn child.
Enter Phil, a rebel freedom fighter who has had more than his share of Alien Vampires. Armed with THE BLADES, a sacred alien martial art, he enters the compound on a mission to find Sandy. But as he battles his way through the compound, Phil discovers Sandy has her own agenda. Finding her stolen child is all that matters.
But the vampires have their own plan and Sandy’s baby is at the heart of their diabolical plot. Joined by a crew of rogue soldiers, they must navigate the underground compound, battling genetically mutated humans, aliens and monsters.
When battling Alien Vampires, one thing is certain…Get Ready To Bleed!
Fans of The Hunger Games, George RR Martin, VE Schwab, Star Wars and Ancient Aliens will be fascinated by this high-powered, intelligent, edge of your seat dystopian sci-fi action thriller.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
“It’s in the blood, dear,” said Ellen, one of the women Sandy shared time and space with, her skin worn by age, hard labor, and days spent under the sun. Blotches, liver spots and creases led the observer to the eyes. One dark, the other a cataract milky white and she always wore a dark shawl draped over the head and shoulders. Sandy was afraid of Ellen, she reminded Sandy of a gypsy or witch from a fairy-tale.
“Come again?” said Sandy, her eyes shifting from soldier to Ellen to soldier then back to Ellen.
Ellen had cut herself transferring a wood bucket filled with rice to add to an already large trough of buckets. A thick wood splinter pinned in the bottom of her palm dripping with a thick stream of blood. She turned to Sandy raising the bloodied palm and caught a drop of blood in her unwounded hand.
“The blood dear,” said Ellen. “All magic comes from the blood.”
Sandy cringed at the sight; she’d always been squeamish. Her stomach bumped, blood curled. Magic, Sandy thought. If only magic was real. How wonderful would that be? Sandy understood she was naïve, the result of an isolated childhood and her parents’ death when she was ten years old. Not that they had taught the young Sandy about the world she lived in either. They’d kept her under lock and key, never so much as offering a glimpse or advice on the outside world. They were always so cryptic with their explanations, living in an abundant and overgrown mansion as if luxury were a childhood friend. Sure there were plenty of rooms for a child to explore but as time went by those rooms seemed more like a prison than a home.
Years of neglect, isolation and secrets were as torturous as physical suffering. And she was tired of secrets. She wanted to know truth. Truth was like a blanket that keeps you warm in the coldest winter.
“The blood, Sandy,” said Ellen who clenched her fist around those crimson droplets, shaking her hand in front of her face. “All is in the blood.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
PD Alleva is an alternative fiction author. His novels cross genres, blending mystery, conspiracy, psychology, and action with horror and dystopian science fiction. Alternative fiction is PD’s attempt at describing what readers uncover in any one of his books, a new discovery towards mainstream storytelling. He’s been writing since childhood, creating and developing stories with brash and impactful concepts that he would describe are metaphors for the shifting energies that exist in the universe. PD exists inside of his own universe, working diligently on The Rose Vol. II and exceptional horror novels. Be prepared for Golem, PD’s upcoming horror thriller.
Social Media Info:
Website/Newsletter www.pdalleva.com
Facebook Page: @pdallevaauthor
Twitter: @PdallevaAuthor
Instagram: pdalleva_author
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/pdalleva
Buy links:
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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY
One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Book Blast – BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Middle school librarian and aspiring writer Julia Morgan’s last relationship ended months ago. Once labeled as “boring in the bedroom,” she visits Behind Closed Doors, an adult toy store, hoping to spice up her sex life. The aisles of erotic products aren’t nearly as hot as the store’s sexy owner, but is she brave enough to let a virtual stranger coax her out of her sexual shell?
Read an Excerpt
Clay lowered his body down to her right side. “Smells girly in here too. Like you. Like roses and lemons?”
“Didn’t you know? All women have to burn candles periodically. It’s part of our handbook.”
“Really? Can’t say I did know. Do you have a copy of this handbook? You know. For science.”
Julia shrugged. “Maybe I ruined our secret. No written copies available for men.”
“Maybe you did.” He stared at her, his gaze roving across her body. “So you want to watch a movie or something?”
His blood was humming, his pulse racing. He hoped hers was too.
“A movie? Sure. Perfect.” She flipped the TV on, settling on the first movie she saw, some random comedy. “This one okay?”
His gaze locked on her. “Perfect.”
“Yep. Perfect.” She glanced down at her hands in her lap.
It was time to make a move. “So can I?” He scooted even closer as he ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot beneath his fingers.
She blinked. “Can you what?”
“Kiss you?” He hovered, almost touching her lips with his. But he waited.
“Please.” She took a ragged breath before he slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer to him, his gaze locked with hers. He took his time, kissing her like she was a fine wine, something to savor. Like he was a drowning man and the only oxygen was through her.
About the Author:
Rachael Reilly is a steamy romance writer living right outside Nashville, Tennessee. She also previously worked as a freelance writer for smaller magazine publications.
When not writing things that make her blush, Rachael can be found people watching, reading most anything she can get her hands on, or searching for her own Prince Charming through online dating. These activities are almost always accompanied by a glass of lemonade or cheap wine.
Website: http://www.rachaelreillywrites.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/reillyromance
The book will be on sale for $0.99 from October 16 – October 30.
Book Link: https://amzn.to/32S28Bq
Rachael Reilly will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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Book Blast – BOUND TO PROTECT
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
The weight of the world on her shoulders…
Sabrina Thomas needs to catch a break. By day she juggles two jobs, only to head home at night to care for her mentally ill brother. With their parents gone, the responsibility for his care, the doctor’s bills, the hospital stays, the at home care, falls to her. Six months ago, the trust fund their parents left them dried up and with the mounting bills, she has until the end of the month to make good on late rent payments before they are evicted. Sabrina knows where she could make a lot of quick cash with her looks: Bayou Sin, the classiest strip joint on Bourbon Street. But her plans go awry when Dante hauls her off the stage and takes her to his penthouse.
His lifestyle called into question…
Billionaire Michael Fitzgerald and his partner in crime, Dante Rousseau, have been topping submissives together for years. As the owner of the fifth largest sugarcane supplier, with a host of multi-conglomerate corporations to run, Michael has always kept his bedroom preferences under wraps. When a rival on the board attempts to engage in a hostile takeover and have Michael expelled from his own company, he knows he needs to find a woman he can trust to pretend to be his fiancée and put the kibosh on the illicit rumors spreading like wildfire through the company’s board members. When Dante shows up with their housekeeper, Sabrina, who is spitting mad at being denied the opportunity to make some fast cash, Michael knows she is just the woman for the job.
An offer neither can refuse…
Michael and Dante make Sabrina a deal: pretend to be Michael’s sole love interest for thirty days to dispel the rumors and stop the takeover. In exchange, they will pay her ten million dollars at month’s end. But the lines soon become blurred as to what is real and what is make believe. And when their time together is up, will they be able to walk away, or will they take the chance to make their relationship the real deal?
Read an Excerpt
Michael stepped off the elevator into the plush offices on the executive floor of Fitzgerald Foods, the company his grandfather had built from the ground up. He wore wealth like most individuals wore a pair of jeans—with absolute ease and familiarity. He was comfortable with his privilege now, at thirty-six, when he hadn’t always been growing up. But Michael had been raised in a world of wealth and privilege few ever achieved or experienced. He knew how fortunate he was, but at the same time he bore a mantle of responsibility most people could never comprehend. This company and all of those he owned had thousands of employees who depended upon him to make the right decision for all involved. One wrong move on his part and his people, the people the company depended on to make everything run seamlessly, from the factory workers to the office personnel and distribution channels, suffered.
That was one thing his father had made sure Michael understood. He wasn’t the company. He was only its guide and navigator. The company ran because of everyone involved, from the Board members on down to the janitor. He believed in an honest day’s work, in ensuring that those who worked for Fitzgerald Foods—one of the subsidiaries of Ragnall Sugar started by his great-great-grandfather more than a century ago, or his Hollywood production company Conmar, or real estate firm Fitzgerald-Logan Realty—were well compensated for their efforts.
For this morning’s board meeting, he’d chosen a tailored suit in a crisp dark gray that made his indigo eyes standout and bespoke of that wealth. He was comfortable wearing the platinum Rolex on his left wrist and the black Italian leather shoes had been hand crafted for his feet the last time he’d been in Italy, along with the Cavalli silk tie adorning his neck in vermouth with a diamond shaped pattern.
His dark golden hair, currently sporting lighter blond streaks from his time away under the sun on Pleasure Island, reached his chin. The longer style was an affectation he had developed while attending university abroad in Europe more than a decade past. He’d drawn it back into a stubby ponytail and figured that, combined with his trim, close cropped beard, gave him a more down to earth appeal.
He didn’t miss the sly looks from the receptionist and administrative assistants that stated quite clearly they found him attractive. Many of them would be only too happy to be called into his office for something other than work.
Michael appreciated women in all their varied flavors. He respected them. But he also hadn’t been with a woman in the vanilla sense in fifteen years, and doubted that most of the women vying for his attention would satisfy him. Not to mention, he seriously doubted they realized that, when he did select a partner, it was with the intent to share her with his best friend, Dante.
About the Author:Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
Visit her website here: http://www.anyasummers.com
Visit her on social media here:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AnyaSummersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anyabsummers
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15183606.Anya_Summers
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Anya-Summers/e/B01EGTVRKC/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/anya-summers
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anyasummersauthor/
Newsletter: https://anyasummers.com/newsletter/
Crescent City Kings
Lone Survivor, Book 1: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07X4JN5DX
Far Reaching Consequences, Book 2: https://amzn.to/2SmLqWm
The Right to Remain Silent, Book 3: https://amzn.to/2URBzY2
Bound to Protect, Book 4: https://www.amazon.com/Bound-Protect-Crescent-City-Kings-ebook/dp/B08FCX75XZ/
Self Sacrifice, Book 5 – Coming December 2020
Never Surrender, Book 6 – Coming 2021
Oath & Indenture, Book 7 – Coming 2021
Anya Summers will award a $20 Amazon/BN GC.
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Book Blast – MOON IN BASTET
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
A memoir turned into thrilling fiction; Moon in Bastet is based on the life of author E. S. Danon. The story follows a fourteen-year-old girl named Eva, an orphan living in the Negev desert of Israel who is working as a custodian of Cirque Du Christianisme. Her life is controlled by a volatile drunk named Bella who favors a group of equally volatile teenage bullies over her and her own safety or sanity.
Bullied, neglected, and alone – Eva’s only friends are an odd, thirteen–year–old Sephardic boy named Jack and a small cohort of Bedouin sister-wives. On the brink of giving up on life, Eva stumbles upon a mysterious cat in the middle of the desert. Or really, did the cat stumble upon her?
Together they must fight to stay alive, win the battles thrown at them, and Eva must learn to not only lean on others but to trust in herself.
Filled with mystery, magic, and symbolism – Moon in Bastet is a story of resilience, survivorship, forgiveness, and women empowerment. This is a work filled with Jewish mysticism that can be enjoyed by people of all races, ages, and religions everywhere.
Read an Excerpt
Mist twinkles atop the desert sand as a cohort of camels take their morning promenade. A girl runs past them, chasing the rising globe of fire.
Her breath labors as she slips on a rock.
“Ugh!”
A perfect little scrape forms on her knee, but she continues onward and unfazed.
Her skin is olive tinted; her head covered by a canopy of endless brown, curly hair. On her face sit two prominent beauty marks, on either side of her mouth. She is slender and not yet fully grown, but by no means does she have a frail frame. She wears a beige, spaghetti strapped dress that is knee length and complete with a secret pocket – all of which is covered in dirt. A headband woven from plants and flowers sits around the girl’s head.
This girl is named Eva.
She sprints up another dune’s side, her dress ballooning around her as she sits suddenly with crossed legs. The mirage of the sun’s gaseous performance begins to play on the horizon; another Israeli sun rise in the Negev. Like toy soldiers, the sun’s rays advance in a medley of oranges and yellows. Pink is usually reserved for sunrises – however on this day, a rosy aura is cast around the girl as she grabs a rock and casts it towards the sun: This is how a desert girl skips rocks. Next, she takes aim at the arse of the nearest camel.
The rock misses by centimeters, causing a fuss amongst the cohort, but Eva’s almond shaped, brown eyes glisten.
“G-d! Adonai! Where are you? I see you in the colors of the sky!” Her voice echoes as her eyes drift upon the sunrise. “Why are you ignoring me like everyone else does? I feel you in the warmth of light but where are you? Why haven’t you rescued me yet?” She shivers and brings her bare feet in closer to herself. “Can you at least give me a jacket? You’re not very gentleman-like, you know… it’s really chilly this morning.”
Eva puckers her lips in defeat, and then meditates in the following silence, focusing on the warmth ricocheting from the sand and onto her goosebumps.
“Well at least my cramps are gone,” she says once her anxiety diminishes – massaging her lower stomach, happy that her most recent predicament has gone away. “But yet I still must deal with the cramp of life: being unheard and misunderstood.”
Reminded of the reason why she came to pray in the first place, Eva turns to the sky and gives a cloud a dirty look. “G-d, you have approximately twenty-four hours or I will throw rocks at every camel that I see! I can’t survive in that stupid Circus another day.” She throws a finger towards the unsuspecting cloud in the sky and pauses, thinking of a way to coax G-d into saving her.
“You know what – if you like your camels so much, then you better get me out of this place!” Shaking her head, she mumbles, “I’ll just throw rocks at each of their heads. Not like they would care. They’re already dumb… dumb camels.” She looks at a moon shaped scar on the top of her hand, given to her by one of the water-hoarding creatures several years ago.
“Dumb camels,” she repeats.
Silence again is all that responds to Eva once she finishes speaking to herself. She slumps over, shrugs, and decides to head back to her home that sits half-a-mile away from the dunes.
Her feet slip on the sand, causing her to lift her left hand to her face. She huffs as she thinks of her favorite book; reading it gives her solace in her own solitude. Eva sighs, feeling stuck in an ocean made of sand and trapped with her own imaginary desert marlin. She’s already picked out several camels to act as the sharks.
Ironically, one of the camels spits at her as she passes – as if asking, “Where’s your rock – dumb human?”
“Rude,” she mutters in response.
Eva finds her way to a camp studded with only several architectural structures that is surrounded by seven-foot-high wall made of sand. There is only one exit and one entrance, a sky-high rectangular structure made of wood that suffices as a gate. As she skips under it, a sign that reads Cirque du Christianism sways after her.
Officially home, she is welcomed by an array of Circus tents.
Her lazy footsteps saunter past the main tent to her right, soon halting as she approaches a much smaller blue tent. Looking back towards a white tipi, she can feel her body tensing as she holds her breath before leaping forward in front of the blue tent.
I hope he doesn’t attract attention to me.
About the Author:
Elizabeth Danon received her B.S. in Marine Science from Stony Brook University before working as a Marine Biologist for the National Marine Fisheries Service. She traveled the U.S. Eastern Seaboard and Gulf of Mexico: collecting data aboard commercial fishing vessels and dredges.
When that didn’t pan out to be the glorified job that she expected, finding herself covered in shark snot and fish scales daily, Elizabeth became a technical writer. In her spare time, she began doing standup comedy after taking comedy bootcamp with the Armed Services Arts Partnership. At this time, she married the most wonderful man who also provides most of her joke writing material. Unfortunately, because he’s Indian he has also enabled her Maggi addiction… Like she needed that on top of her already long-standing iced coffee issues.
Her favorite show is Schitt’s Creek, as she feels a special bond to her fellow comedians – and Sephardic brethren. Growing up half-Jewish herself, Elizabeth eventually converted to being full-Jewish with Temple Israel as a student of Rabbi Panitz.
Her enriched, but complicated, heritage has been an inspiration for most of her creative writing. Being an Aries, she has always felt like a leader and has therefore integrated her feminist beliefs into her work, albeit dropping every women’s studies course that she ever elected in college.
Additionally, her writing has an unmistakable international presence. Elizabeth wanted to discover as much as she could about her Sephardic Heritage and went on Birthright, followed by her independent travels to over ten other countries… carrying nothing but a red bookbag.
Website: https://linktr.ee/esdanon
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/esdanon
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pg/DANON.ELIZABETH.BOOKS/about/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/esdanon_
Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Moon-Bastet-S-Danon-ebook/dp/B086LLL4T8/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/moon-in-bastet-es-danon/1137305185
The author will be awarding a a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter.
Book Blast – PAIRS WITH LIFE
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The publisher will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter and a signed copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Forty-eight-year-old Corbett Thomas, a one-hit wonder of the 90s, now works as the lead sommelier at Napa Valley’s hippest restaurant. Set to become one of the few Master Sommeliers in the world, Corbett self-destructs during his final exam, ruining his last chance at capturing the stardom and adoration he got a taste for in his youth.
When billionaire game designer, Brogan Prescott, asks Corbett to consult on a major vineyard acquisition, Corbett sees it as a shot at redemption, until he learns of Brogan’s ridiculous vision of a virtual-reality, Woke Ant Colony Winery. Disgusted, Corbett decides to buy the vineyard himself and preserve its magic and history. Cashless, clueless, and with his reputation in tatters, Corbett enlists the help of his bass-player-turned-lawyer Seamus O’Flaherty, who may have finally lost his stomach for Corbett’s bad ideas; his uber-rational daughter Remy, who wants Corbett to uncork some family secrets he’d rather leave in the cellar; and Sydney Cameron, whose sudden appearance in Corbett’s life may repair his heart or shatter it forever.
With their help-and sometimes despite it-Corbett discovers what Brogan has known all along: a four-billion-dollar gold deposit lies beneath the vineyard. If Brogan acquires the property, the ensuing gold rush will destroy Napa Valley.
But if Corbett can get out of his own way long enough to purchase the vineyard first, he’ll be faced with the hardest decision of his life: take the fame and fortune he desperately craves, or save the soul of the valley he loves so much.
Read an Excerpt
I turned to face him. At six-foot-four, I was a foot taller and had at least seventy-five pounds on him. I wasn’t going for intimidation, though. Ok, not a lot of intimidation. “You getting the Harrison party only proves that there’s no such thing as a just and benevolent God.”
Andrew scratched his beard mockingly. Not a single hair was displaced. “Harrison? Oh, you mean Harrison-Lowell Partners? The massive private equity firm whose board is having their party here tonight? Those guys?”
I wanted to rip my face off. The truth was, Andrew was half my age, but only a few steps behind me. He was an Advanced Somm, a WSET-3, CSW, and a whole bunch of other mostly useless acronyms. But he had mad tasting skills, which while also hating, I grudgingly respected too.
“Just…get them to do different bottles with each course,” I said, trying to mask my aggravation. “No by-the-glass stuff and none of those imports I got on special—”
“Gee, thanks, Corbett,” he interrupted. “I’ll do my best to remember all of that complex and really insightful information.” He walked backwards towards the door, a smug little smirk spreading across his face. “In the meantime, you have an absolutely awesome evening with your bachelorette party.”
On my eighth birthday, my mom woke me up at 3:00 a.m., dragged me out of bed and into the cold backseat of her Datsun hatchback and said, “We’re going to Disneyland.” I’d never been but leave it to say I could sing all five verses of “Yo Ho, Yo Ho (A Pirate’s Life For Me).” She didn’t pack anything except a bologna and American cheese sandwich for me, and a thermos filled with “Mommy’s Orange Juice” for her. We drove seven hours from Tucson to Los Angeles, got out, and discovered the park was closed.
“Oh,” she had said with a frown. She shoved me back in the car and we drove home to Tucson without saying a word.
When I heard that Jansen was a bachelorette party, it felt a lot like that.
I already knew in agonizing detail how the whole night would unfold. Jansen was a party of fifteen, but only thirteen would show up, because the group had been out wine tasting the entire day, and two girls would have already passed out at the hotel, their heads balanced delicately over the edge of the bed to avoid vomit asphyxiation.
Festivities would start with a round of Lemon Drops, followed by selfies, followed by a round of Himalayan Blow Jobs (the shot, not the Sherpa-based sex act), and more selfies. There’d be a polite but stern noise complaint from a nearby diner, which would be met with vitriol and retribution from the maid of honor, and eventually every single customer on the terrace would have to be re-seated with a comped entrée.
By the start of the second course, two more bridesmaids would be “Man down!” and loaded into the limo to be whisked away. This would cause the Bride to launch into Tearful and Wailing Speech Number One: Don’t You Understand This Is My Wedding? The remedy for this drama would be another round of shots, followed by the meat course, which everyone would secretly want to eat but no one will eat.
I would then be asked if dancing is allowed. I would say no. This would be met with Tearful and Wailing Speech Number Two: Don’t You Fucking Understand This Is My Wedding?
At the end of the evening, three of the four remaining conscious bridesmaids would attempt to split the check, and they would get it wrong three times. It would be my fault, obviously, and then Drunk Math would result in a three-hundred-dollar underpayment, coming out of the service charge.
“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I sell the most expensive bottle tonight,” I blurted. I’m not exactly sure why I said it: Anger at a manager who didn’t respect who I was or what I’d been through; or jealousy of a kid who accomplished in six years what took me twenty.
Andrew froze at the door. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” I said.
Andrew folded his arms across his chest and stared at me as if I asked him to solve a quadratic equation. “So, you’ll bet me a hundred dollars that you can sell a more expensive wine to the Mike’s Hard Lemonade Crew than I can to the Board of Directors of the nation’s third-largest private equity firm?”
Well, when you put it that way… No matter. I was betting on my ability to optimize potential. I mean, it’s not like the Jansens had booked their party at Applebee’s.
“You got it.”
“You’re on.” Andrew stuck out his hand and I shook it. He had that kind of non-committal handshake that feels like you’re clutching a wet hunk of pork loin. I dropped his hand and brushed past him.
I’ll never say out loud that I doubted my potential to win the bet, but it crossed my mind to add Franzia to the system and charge $1,000.00 per box for it.
Helena was leading service for the Jansen party that night, which was good news. She was awesome—an absolute pro at her job, and mostly unflappable. We met for a few minutes to talk strategy. I didn’t tell her about the bet, though maybe I should have, because she thought it was rather odd of me to be so concerned about a bachelorette party.
“Chances are we aren’t even going to need you,” she said.
“How sexist,” I admonished her, practically vomiting hypocrisy. “What if the bride is a director at Google? And all her friends are instructors at the Culinary Institute? What if they’re all writers for Wine Spectator?”
She wasn’t, they weren’t, and hell no.
When the bride-to-be finally sashayed into the restaurant atop a wave of millennial entitlement, it was as obvious as the rhinestone tiara atop her head that there would not be a single fuck given to the wine list. I had to admit, though, that the bride glowed; she beamed. She was all shiny teeth, dewy skin and smoky eyes, and radiating with the glorious possibility of a love eternal—a happiness unhinged and unfettered, as ethereal as a dream whispered to the breeze. It was practically contagious, something I could inhale or feel wash over me for one perfect moment as she sauntered by.
Oh, well. Life would drop its fucking jackboot on her heart soon enough.
Helena agreed to let me go in before she asked for an initial drink order, just to see if I could sell them on wine and not something vodka based. I gave the group exactly seven minutes on the terrace before making my entrance.
About the Author:
John Taylor has been writing about wine since 2012, but his meanderings on life began way before that. Born and raised in San Diego, California, John moved to Los Angeles in 1982 to pursue dreams of screenwriting and filmmaking. He attended the University of Southern California, where he majored in Shattered Dreams and False Hopes, with a minor in Getting Gut Punched By Reality. After being handed a degree in Journalism in 1987 as a consolation prize, John dove into a career in music. Because getting gut-punched just isn’t painful enough.
By 1996, John and his band, The Uninvited, had produced four independent albums and became one of the most popular acts in the western United States. This lead to a deal on Atlantic Records, which released the band’s self-titled debut album in 1997. The band had two Top 100 hits, and toured nationally with Dave Matthews, Blues Traveller, Third Eye Blind and many other acts. Their music appeared in the TV shows Beverly Hills 90210 and Party of Five, and in the motion pictures The Commandments and North Beach. The band can also be heard in several HBO Documentaries, video games and on that annoying “One Hit Wonders of The 90’s” station your co-worker always plays on Spotify.
In 2001, John’s vast experience in shattered dreams was once again called into play as the band hung up their touring shoes for good. After a brief but horrifying career in real estate, John got wise and made a career out of his favorite hobby – wine – and has held various sales and marketing positions in Napa Valley since 2011. John’s writing career started in earnest at this point, with blogs, essays and short stories appearing in various publications. John is the author of three novels, including the aptly-titled Pairs With: Life, which will be released by Hurn Publications in September 2020.
Author Links:
Website: https://pairswithlife.net/about-john-taylor-the-author-and-creator-of-pairs-with-life
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pairswithlife
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/pairswithlife
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JATauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52422370-pairs-with-life
Podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pairs-with-life/id1447854343
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpJAMcM5_30XOMGLgp8accw
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/hurnpublications/pairs-with-life/
Buy Links:
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/pairs-with-life-john-taylor/1137309023
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1734763418/ref=x_gr_w_bb_sin
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/pairs-with-life
AbeBooks: https://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=30694978993&searchurl=isbn%3D1734763418%26sortby%3D17&cm_sp=snippet-_-srp1-_-title1
The Book Depository: https://www.bookdepository.com/Pairs-With-Life-John-Taylor-Triumph-Book-Covers-Raven-Eckman/9781734763416
Alibris: https://www.alibris.com/booksearch?keyword=1734763418&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_source=GwEz7vxblVU&utm_campaign=10&siteID=GwEz7vxblVU-AsJ_RuF3DS_lmu1_KH3zEQ
Publisher: https://hurnpublications.com/product/preorders-pairs-with-life-by-john-taylor
Indiebound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781734763416
The publisher will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter and a signed copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter.
Book Blast – HEAD GAMES
Head Games
by Eileen Dreyer
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GENRE: Mystery/Suspense
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BLURB:
She’s seen it all, until…Head Games, a Medical Thriller from Eileen Dreyer —St. Louis, Missouri-Present Day—
St. Louis death investigator and trauma nurse Molly Burke has seen just about everything, until gifts begin showing up on her doorstep—gifts like human eyes and painted bones—the signature of a twisted serial killer.
Complicating the dangerous situation, Molly’s 16-year-old nephew unexpectedly shows up on her doorstep, with problems of his own.
Now, Molly must balance the investigation into the mind of a monster, who’s taking her back to the worst years of her life, while launching a rescue mission for her nephew. The question is, will she survive either?
Publisher’s Note: No one writes medical thrillers better than former Trauma Nurse, Eileen Dreyer. This tight medical thriller contains profanity consistent with the salty speech of crime investigators and does NOT contain sexual content.
“A tensely plotted thriller that compels the reader to the last shocking page…Dreyer deftly displays her droll sense of humor while spinning a tale of taut terror…complex, riveting, funny, and compelling.” ~The Denver Post
“Nearly flawless. The dialogue is witty, yet shot through with verisimilitude. The insights into hospitals, medical examiners’ offices, police departments, and the military are stunning.” ~St. Louis Post-Dispatch
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EXCERPT
There is comfort in ritual.
There is order.
There is the security of knowing that our most precious needs can be protected by enclosing them within the high, strong walls of familiarity and precision.
Kenny understood this. He recognized the need for ritual, the joy of it. He cherished the keen anticipation of each deliberate act.
One of the keystones of Kenny’s ritual was the ten o’clock news. Kenny watched the news the way other people read obituaries. Once he knew his name wasn’t mentioned, he could get on with planning the next day’s work.
But not just the ten o’clock news. The ten o’clock news on Channel 7, who tended to carry the more gruesome stories. Kenny liked to hear the breathless outrage in anchorwoman Donna Kirkland’s soft voice when she said words like startling and gruesome, almost as if she derived sexual pleasure from them. But that wasn’t something he figured he should dwell on when he had his new friend with him, as he did tonight.
Flower. Her name was Flower. It was such a wonderful name, Kenny thought, turning to her.
“Ten o’clock is the only time to watch news,” he told her as he settled himself back down on the nubby brown couch and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“Today,” Donna Kirkland intoned with barely suppressed delight, “a grisly discovery in Forest Park…”
Grisly. Another word she seemed to get off on. He smiled. He had his beer, Flower was here with him, and there was murder on television. And to make it all perfect, Donna the anchor—Kenny always thought of her as that: Donna the anchor, as if it were her entire name—was excited by it.
“…two park rangers found the partially clothed body of a woman in the woods while clearing brush,” she cooed.
On the TV, the camera panned over the obligatory stand of dead trees silhouetted against a gray sky. Caught clustered in a fold of land like cattle sheltering against the wind stood about a half dozen uniformed officers and an ambulance cart.
“…two park rangers found the partially clothed body of a woman in the woods while clearing brush,” she cooed. “We spoke with a representative of the Medical Examiner’s office a few minutes ago.
The TV now showed a woman who stood before the downtown police station quietly listening to a question being asked off camera. Kenny saw her and forgot the story entirely.
His heart suddenly raced. Squinting, he leaned closer.
“My God,” he whispered, stunned.
She was petite, small-boned, and trim. Short, neat auburn hair. Bright brown eyes with laugh lines and lots of experience stamped on almost pretty features, small hands tucked in the pockets of a serviceable gray suit jacket.
Older, much older, it seemed to Kenny. But then, so was he.
“My God,” he breathed again, shaking his head. “It’s her. Why didn’t I know?”
“The Medical Examiner believes the victim to have been at the site for about four days,” she was saying with appropriate solemnity. “We won’t know the cause of death until the autopsy has been performed in the morning.”
Kenny always remembered her smiling. But he remembered this look even better. Her sad look. Kenny remembered her looking at him this way, like she wanted to say something or do something that could make it all different.
Maybe that was why he suddenly recognized her. He’d finally seen her sad look. The look he’d always thought was all his.
Forgetting his beer, forgetting his friend Flower, he focused on the TV, so excited he could hardly think.
“Molly Burke is a death investigator for the city of St. Louis,” Brenda the anchor said.
“Molly…” Kenny’s laugh was sudden. “Oh my god, Molly. Yes, of course!”
He turned to Flower, truly thrilled. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I knew her. I know her. I wondered for so long what’s become of her, and now to realize that she’s been right here, that I’ve seen her! I’ve just got to let her know I’m back.”
Kenny turned off the TV. He had things to do. For more than twenty years he’d been anticipating what he’d do if this very moment ever came. He’d been practicing hard in his head so that it would be perfect. Tilting the long-neck Busch up to finish it, he set the bottle down and stood up.
“Time for lights out,” he said to Flower. “I’m going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
His friend Flower smiled back. But then, she always smiled. So Kenny smiled as well, because tonight he was happy, too. Then, with the exquisite care he showed all his friends, he lifted her head off her shoulders and put it back in the refrigerator where it belonged. Then, turning off the lights, he went to bed.
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
New York Times Bestselling, award-winning author Eileen Dreyer has published 40 novels and 10 short stories under her name and that of her evil twin, Kathleen Korbel in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, historical romance, romantic suspense, mystery and medical forensic suspense. A proud member of RWA’s Hall of FAME, she also has numerous awards from RT BookLovers and an Anthony nomination for mystery. She is now focusing on what she calls historic romantic adventure in her DRAKE’S RAKES series. A native of St. Louis, she still lives there with her family. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight. http://eileendreyer.com/
https://www.facebook.com/EileenDreyer
https://www.instagram.com/eileendreyerauthor
http://www.goodreads.com/author/list/19012.Eileen_Dreyer
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/eileen-dreyer
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Head-Games-Thriller-Eileen-Dreyer-ebook/dp/B08BX7B4YF/
Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/head-games-eileen-dreyer/1137244643
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/head-games-28
Apple https://books.apple.com/us/book/head-games/id1520717910
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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY
Eileen Dreyer will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
