Blog Tour: Celebrity Status

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: May 9 2018

Famous Hollywood actress, Elizabeth Stanfield, has a glamorous lifestyle with a lavish house, glittery parties, a people magazine's fifty most beautiful people fiancé and best friend Billy Stone - Famous actor, producer and secret organized crime enforcer.

Everything is not as it seems...Elizabeth's fiancé cheats on her, a studio head and director are hell bent on making her life miserable and it gets harder to keep her secrets protected.

The only good thing in her life is Billy, their budding romance, and connections that give them freedom to do whatever they want in Hollywood.

Will their connections be enough to keep their secrets hidden and Celebrity Status safe or are they doomed to be torn down?

Excerpt

“So, Mr. Stone.” I seductively moved towards him. “When do you have to be back on set?” I stood in front of him.

“Well, Miss. Stanfield.” Taking a cue from me, he put his hands on my hips and began to pull me towards him. “I don’t have to be back there for another hour.”

“Really?” I allowed myself to be pulled forward. Putting a knee on the couch on either side of his hips, I straddled him and sat on his lap. “Neither do I.”

With my hands on either side of his face, I bent down and kissed him. He pulled me closer and began undoing my blouse, slowly, one agonizing button at a time.

As I kissed him, I started to work on the button of his pants. Once I got that opened, I pulled my shirt off to speed up the process.

“A little impatient?” He laughed as I pulled his shirt over his head.

“Uh, yeah, we only have an hour.”

“Elizabeth, trust me, that’s plenty of time.”

I began kissing his neck. I could feel his arm muscles tighten as he began work the back clasp of my bra.

I moved from his neck, to his shoulder, to his collarbone, and then down to his chest. I was continuing my descent when there was a knock on the trailer door.

“Go away,” Billy commanded to the intruder.

“Billy, we need to talk.” Sonny’s voice came from the other side.

Without hesitation, I continued my journey down to his stomach as I slid off him and knelt on the floor between his knees.

“Not now, Sonny.” Billy took in a sharp breath as I circled his belly button.

“I’m not asking again.” Sonny sounded angry. “I need to speak with you and Elizabeth now. I do not like to be kept waiting.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” I said, extremely irritated, and stood up. I quickly threw on my blouse and began buttoning it up as I opened the door.

“What do you want?” I asked angrily.

Behind me Billy was buttoning up his pants and trying to find his shirt.

“Oh God,” Sonny exclaimed as he walked in. “Is this what I have to watch out for every time I come to see you guys?”

“Well, if you had listened to Billy and left us alone, you wouldn’t be witnessing this, would you?”

“What are you doing?” Sonny ignored my snarky comment and asked Billy.

“I can’t find my shirt.”

I looked around and it was on the opposite side of the trailer on the floor. I must have really flung it when I took it off him.

“It’s over there.” Sonny pointed it out.

Billy looked to where it was but didn’t move from the couch. “It’s okay, I don’t really need it right now,” he said as he crossed his legs.

“Oh God,” Sonny repeated. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

I laughed at Sonny’s discomfort and threw Billy his shirt.

“So?” I said to Sonny. “What was so urgent that you had to bust in here?”

“We have a problem.”

“Yes, I know,” I sarcastically answered. “We now only have forty-five minutes until we are due back on set and I should be underneath Billy by now.”

Sonny made a face.

About the Author

Angela Scavone is the author of two Soulmate novels, Love by the book and A Journey Home. As well as,  a contributing author to the Christmas anthology, ‘A Soulmate for Christmas’. Her latest novel Celebrity Status is now available from Pearman Literary Publishers on Amazon. She lives in Ontario, Canada sharing her home with her father and much-loved trio of pups. Apart from her avid love of story telling, she likes to read, spend time with family and friends and concoct dairy free recipes from scratch. Sometimes she wins and sometimes she loses – tofu, banana and peanut butter pudding we are looking at you

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Blog Tour: My Beloved Past

New Adult Romance

Date Published: April 16 2018

In a city of millions, the probability of chance and all of its mathematical outcomes should never have brought Jake and Zara together.

Jake never forgot the beautiful, exotic eyes of his first love. They haunt his dreams and make him look twice at every woman he meets. Then, in a twist of fate, when he jumps to the rescue of the gorgeous jogger he has been admiring for weeks, one look into Zara's eyes brings him back to her, even if it's only all the sweet memories.

It has taken Zara years to finally be happy with who she is, working her dream job as a counselor to special needs teenagers and having fun with her crazy group of friends. However, she has never forgiven herself for that fateful night when she was a teenager. The night that changed the course of so many lives. The night she learned unconditional love isn't always so unconditional. Now, years later, in the clutches of a devil dog's jaw, Zara has only one regret. That he will never know the truth.

She can't change the sins of her past, but can her sexy hero lead her to a new future? Can she finally leave the past where it belongs-in the past? Or, will old secrets threaten her new, budding love?

About the Author

Anne Marie Citro grew born and raised in the greater Toronto area of Ontario, Canada. She grew up in a large, loving family. Anne Marie is married to a very patient man. He is the love of her life. They have four very cool sons, and the girls they brought into their family that have become daughters of her heart. She has been blessed enough to finally have a beautiful granddaughter after four sons. She has her own personal gaggle of girlfriends, who enrich her life on a daily basis and make her laugh. Caesar Friday is her favourite day of the week. Caesars with the girls and date night with her hubby. She works with special-needs teenagers, that have taught her how to appreciate life and see it through gentler eyes. Anne Marie was encouraged by her husband to follow her lifelong dream to write. She loves the characters that take over imagination and haunts her dreams. She loves the arts and she has tried her hand at painting, wood sculpting, chainsaw carving, wood burning, metal and wire sculptures. Yes, her husband is a very patient man! Anne Marie is an avid reader and enjoys about three books per week. But nothing makes her happier then riding on the back of her husband's Harley and throwing her arms out and feeling the wind race by. Anne Marie and her husband take a few weeks every year to travel to spectacular destination around the world. Anne Marie is excited and can't wait to see what the next chapter holds for her life.

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Blog Tour: Scene of the Crime

Mystery / Suspense

Date Published: 5/16/2018

Publisher: JEC Press

A calculating cold-blooded predator closes in…

When a community has barely recovered from a ruthless serial killer six months earlier; now two more horrifying murders hit the radar again. It leaves police burdened with two of the most shockingly contaminated crime scenes ever documented in California’s law enforcement history. The Slayer works behind the scenes as a sinister puppet master, precisely pulling the strings, taunting the police without leaving any viable evidence, and orchestrating his killer hit squads.

The sheriff and district attorney bring in the best investigators. Reunited again, Dr. Chip Palmer, a reclusive forensic expert, joins DA Inspector Kate Rawlins to sort through the crime scene aftermath in search of the truth—all without a probable suspect or a solid motive. Complicating the investigation—sparks reignite between the two.

Ratcheting up the suspense, Chip suffers a nasty fall hitting his head, impairing his perception and giving him a mind-blowing ability for specific detailed recall. Palmer and Rawlins assemble an unusual team including a rookie detective, a forensic supervisor, and an ex-military operative turned bodyguard. After one of their own is kidnapped and the investigation is taken over by the FBI, the now rogue team must pull together their own resources—alone—with a killer waiting to take each one of them out. Scene of the Crime takes no prisoners and leaves everyone fighting to stay alive.

EXCERPT – CHAPTER 2

THE DUSTY POLICE SEDAN EASED into an available parking space behind the forensic van. There was already the usual parade of law enforcement personnel crowding the scene—some official and others using their position as an opportunity to visit the area. It was generally the same level of interest when there was a horrific murder under unusual circumstances. Special DA Inspector Kate Rawlins stepped from the vehicle and quickly surveyed the area in a slow steady turn. It was an older, more crime-ridden part of town, but still nothing compared to the crime statistics of larger cities. It averaged about ten to twelve homicides a year— sometimes less. She recalled some of the murder cases she worked in Phoenix and how there had been a steady flow of murders and gang shootings every week—sometimes every two or three days. She was now the special investigator from the district attorney’s office in charge of the Monterey County Violent Crimes Division in California, and it still made her uneasy; however, no one knew her feelings as she held her position with authority and toughness. It helped that her stature of five-foot-ten gave her some advantage, but her tenacity for finding the bad guys and bringing them to justice overrode her height, as well as any of her other insecurities. “Inspector Rawlins?” spoke a voice from behind her. She turned and saw a skinny, awkward police officer, barely thirty, if that, dressed in civilian clothes fidgeting with his tie waiting for her response. There had been a hiring freeze at the sheriff’s department due to budget negotiations, which meant that the DA’s office would take lead on violent crime cases. Kate had been verbal about her ridiculously heavy workloads and need for another detective. The police department, district attorney’s office, and the county made some concessions and promised her another detective. The eager-faced young man who stood before her was the person they sent from the burglary division. “Yes,” she replied, still examining the surrounding areas as she grabbed her small flashlight and notebook. She slipped her cell phone into her pocket. “Um, I’m David, Detective David Springfield reporting.” She looked him straight in the eye and asked, “Springfield, how many murder cases have you worked?” Kate raised an eyebrow waiting for his reply—even though she already knew his answer. She had done her homework on Springfield before she met him. “Two,” he replied. “But I have a degree in psychology and criminal justice. Not to mention I’ve worked burglary for two years and…” Ignoring the verbal resume, she asked, “What were your responsibilities at the murder scenes?” “I was first officer and secured the scenes, and coordinated with forensics.” “I see,” Kate said. “You up for this, Springfield?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Do me a favor. Don’t call me ma’am, and we’ll get along just fine.” She headed toward the crime scene. “Yes, sir, uh, I mean, yes, Inspector Rawlins.” “Rawlins is just fine.” She tried to keep a straight face and couldn’t help but like the young detective already. She had her work cut out for her, but she was always up for the challenge of molding a new detective.

As Kate neared the area and made her way under the crime scene tape, she had that same feeling whenever she approached any murder scene—slightly queasy stomach and every nerve in her body tingled in anticipation. Many questions already plagued her mind. She noticed little garbage strewn around the areas except for a couple of flattened aluminum cans and took note of everything that may or may not seem out of place. Several uniformed officers cleared the way, their faces were solemn and many didn’t meet her gaze. Two forensic techs waited at the entrance of the abandoned water facility. It struck Kate as odd that forensics wasn’t already documenting the scene as it was generally protocol of her crime scenes. She searched for the first officer at the scene and saw a stocky, dark-haired deputy with a notebook keeping track of who entered the area. She quickly glanced at his nametag: it read Ramirez. “Deputy Ramirez,” she began. “What do we have? Why hasn’t forensics processed the scene yet?” She patiently waited for the answer. The deputy took a breath before he answered. “I’ve never seen a scene like this. I mean, I’ve seen bloody crime scenes before, but this is… horrible… and actually… unusual.” Kate thought the deputy looked like he had seen a ghost. What was going on? It was as if these patrol officers had never been to a crime scene before. “Springfield, you ready?” she commanded and turned toward him. “Inspector?” said Ramirez. “Yes,” she faced the deputy. “You’re going to need to put hazmat on.” “What?” she said. “Do we need to call in the hazardous materials unit?” “No. It’s… it’s just a real mess.” Kate blinked several times and imagined what horrible mess she would find and hoped that her new partner wouldn’t throw up all over his shiny shoes. She glanced at Springfield, whose expression mimicked her gut impression. He would soon learn how to mask what he really thought and felt. The forensic techs had already anticipated the need for the hazardous jumpsuits and booties for the inspector and detective. They were essentially heavy-duty, paper-like material to keep clothing clean and were not made to keep biochemical and other airborne poisons from entering the body. Kate secured her paper booties over her shoes and pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves. She didn’t look directly at Springfield but could feel his trepidation from his stilted silence. It wasn’t difficult to remember the first homicide she had worked. Every horrifying detail was still vivid in her mind: the room, the bodies, the blood spatter covering the walls and ceiling from the shotgun blasts. It had been an exceptionally hot day, sticky and reeking, which made the crime scene even more ripe and nauseating. One of the crime scene techs said, “Let us know what you want us to do, if anything. Just keep going straight, and you’ll see it on the left side.” Kate again thought everyone was acting as if they had never been on or seen a crime scene before. She entered the water drainage tunnel followed closely by her new partner as the cement beneath her feet sloped slightly forward. It was silent. Hollow. Dark. A mild stench of stagnant water permeated her senses. It reminded her of low tide, tolerable but not pleasant.

There was no noise or voices heard from behind them. It was as if they were sealed off from humanity, and there was no place to go but forward. Kate flipped on her flashlight and panned the beam around the area. The darkness was unsettling, but that wasn’t the overall disconcerting aspect of the area. They moved deeper into the facility as the light beams flashed around them and reflected in peculiar angles from the walls. Then… the stench struck her senses causing her to press the back of her gloved hand to her nose and mouth. She could almost taste it as she couldn’t help but inhale it from sheer repulsion. “What is that smell?” said Springfield with a strained weakened voice. “That’s not death.” The word death seemed to linger in the air, but it was true, the horrible odor wasn’t a rotting corpse or anything similar. Kate couldn’t immediately identify the source. It impressed her that it was a combination of many foul smells meshed together. The airflow in the tunnel pushed air in the opposite direction from the entrance and wasn’t immediately noticeable. She stopped for a moment, gaining her sense of balance. The downward tunnel had leveled but still made her feel like she was in an amusement park funhouse—dizzying and unable to focus on anything directly. Her body felt as if she had just stepped off an elevator or boat, and the illusion was that it still moved beneath her. “You okay, Springfield?” she asked, trying to sound like nothing bothered her—when it did. “Yeah,” he barely replied. “What’s your first impression?” she asked even though they hadn’t reached the body yet. She wanted to keep her focus on specifics and the investigation. “What do you mean?” “Stay with me, Springfield,” she said. “What was the first thing you thought of when we entered the tunnel?” Springfield cleared his throat and took a moment before he answered, “Why here? What is the significance of this place to the killer? Drugs? Gangs? What?” Kate was impressed. Her new detective partner, as green as he was, thought about the crime scene and asked good questions. “You’re on the right track.” They moved toward the smell, and it became increasingly stronger at an alarming rate. It was an unusual odor, part garbage and part chemical with a strange high concentrated element to it, which seemed familiar. She just couldn’t place it. Kate fought to keep her gag reflux under control, but the stench completely tested her resolve. She glanced at Springfield as he remained quiet, but his eyes told the entire story— horrified and disbelieving about summed up his expression. Directing her flashlight at the area just to the left, the detective finally saw the actual crime scene. “Wait,” she instructed and took a moment to study the surroundings before trudging right into the area. At first, Kate thought that it was a dummy lying on its side but it was indeed a real man. The awkward, broken body position was unusual. The body appeared male, mid-thirties, cleanshaven, but each joint of the body was broken and posed in the opposite normal direction. The elbows, wrists, knees, and ankles made the body appear to be a smashed dummy. “How?” began Springfield. “What made those types of injuries?” his voice faded. Kate knew what he meant, and she was glad that the detective seemed to naturally ask the right questions. She quickly snapped photos with her cell phone as a reminder of where

everything was located—because the closer they approached—the more bizarre the crime scene became. The cement walls, which once had the typical graffiti symbols, now were covered with red and black smears. Everything had the sheen of being wet and sticky. The bright red covering appeared to be blood, but they wouldn’t know until the lab tested it. Kate dared to move closer to the wall and the closest thing that she could guess making the black smear was some type of engine grease. She snapped a photo and could see in the picture that there were grainy pieces embedded. The entire area around the body had garbage, coagulated chunks of a jelly substance, broken bottles, pieces of wood, pinecones, and a dozen of other types of debris that Kate couldn’t immediately identify. “Springfield,” she said as the flashlight beam highlighted several dark pieces. “Is that…” He moved closer and turned to Kate. “It’s a cat’s head and what looks like the rest of the body in pieces.” Kate let out a breath, remembering what her ex did to her own cat. She pushed away the bad memories and refocused on the scene. It was the most disorganized, scattered mess of any crime scene she had ever seen or had ever heard of during her career. She wracked her brain trying to recollect anything she had witnessed in the past that would shed some light on this murder scene. Nothing came to mind. “Have you ever seen anything like this, Rawlins?” the detective asked. “No,” she replied abruptly. The stench made her queasy almost to the point of no control, and she could feel her salad and four cups of coffee rising into her throat. “What is your take?” he pushed, clearly not knowing what else to say. “It’s a complete disastrous confusion—as if the killer went on a rampage and mutilated the body, but…” “But what?” he quickly asked. Kate moved closer to the victim, taking a moment before bending down next to the body. She checked his wrist, which still had a watch attached. The timepiece was ticking and had the correct time. She reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a wallet containing twenty bucks in cash and a California driver’s license with the name on it that read clearly: Roger Allen Case, thirty-four years old with an address that wasn’t far from the crime scene. There was also a small bag clutched in his hand with what was most likely crystal methamphetamine. Detective Springfield stood behind her and watched. “So the scene appears to be a disorganized and crazed individual, but they didn’t rob him or take his drugs. That can’t be right.” “It’s not the usual drug deal gone bad, but that’s what most likely drew the vic here,” Kate added. Standing to face the detective, she said, “We’ll be able to find out all about the vic but nothing about the killer… except…” “Except what?” he inquired, his eyes wide and face pale. “Except that the killer or killers staged the crime scene.” “Killers?” he asked. “One person couldn’t make this kind of horrific mess and massive contamination in a short period of time based on the lack of decomposition of the body. And not wanting to attract unnecessary attention,” Kate explained. “Go direct CSI to search and document everything, no matter if it appears contaminated. I want to know what the hell has been mixed around here.”

Detective Springfield hurried to leave, no doubt to get away from the stink as quickly as possible. “Springfield?” He turned and answered, “Yeah.” “Tell the techs to document everything from anything viable at the entrance all the way to the body.” “You got it,” he said and swiftly left. No matter how much she wanted to leave to escape the horrific odor, Kate stood for another five minutes trying to ascertain who, and how, the perpetrators could pull off this type of crime scene, and, most importantly—why.

About the Author

Jennifer Chase is a multi award-winning and best-selling crime fiction author, as well as a consulting criminologist. Jennifer holds a bachelor degree in police forensics and a master's degree in criminology & criminal justice. These academic pursuits developed out of her curiosity about the criminal mind as well as from her own experience with a violent psychopath, providing Jennifer with deep personal investment in every story she tells. In addition, she holds certifications in serial crime and criminal profiling.  She is an affiliate member of the International Association of Forensic Criminologists, and member of the International Thriller Writers. www.authorjenniferchase.com

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Blog Tour: The Bridal Chase

Mystery/Suspense

Date Published: 5/12/2018

Publisher: Black Opal Books

Elisha Crimson thought her wedding day would be the happiest of her life. But losing her fiancé to two thugs in a dark sedan wasn’t part of the plan. She, along with the rest of the wedding party, can do nothing to stop the abrupt abduction, so she pursues at the first opportunity, navigating the West Virginia interstate in a white wedding dress behind the wheel of a pickup truck. But will she catch the sedan in time to save her one true love?

Ronnie Washington had known his past would catch up with him, eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to happen on his wedding day. He hates enclosed spaces, and now he’s bouncing around in the trunk of a car after being abducted from the ceremony. His only hope is to talk his way out, but the thugs don’t seem inclined to listen. He knows Elisha will come after him, but, even if she catches them, what can she possibly do against men like these?

Can these two unlikely heroes save the day, and the wedding, or is their life together over before it even starts?

Excerpt

Saturday, 2:45 p.m.:

H

er long, white dress billowed around her. Mascara raced down her face, her eyes frazzled, and a tear formed as she took off at a dead run. Her brother tossed her his set of keys. She caught them in midair and didn’t even break stride. She peeled out of the parking lot, as a spray of gravel pinged a Mercedes, two BMWs, and a Lexus. Through the open window, the wind whipped her hair. Her green eyes were fixed at a distant point on the horizon. Her gaze was just a bit above the dashboard, as she slammed the pickup truck into second gear. A string of curse words emitted from her lips and smacked the wheel. The cup holder beside her held a plastic cup filled with spit, and she picked it up now. Tobacco juice flowed from her lips, and into its predetermined location.

Elisha Crimson flipped the air conditioner on high, even though it was only sixty degrees outside. She honked her horn, gestured with her free hand, and merged into the passing lane. A silver car swerved in front of her, and she screamed and pounded the steering wheel in agony. This time, she neglected to salute the idiot behind the wheel with a cell phone pressed to his ear.

Her eyes flipped to her rearview mirror, and the sea of cars behind her in an intricate rainbow of colors. The trail of cars resembled a python, and the road in front of her was a never-ending façade of red taillights. An accident loomed up ahead, so she slowed down. Two cars—neither one moving—in the right-hand lane were both torn to shreds in twisted metal and crumpled bumpers. Her mind raced, and adrenaline shook her right hand.

She grabbed the cup beside her and spit another glob of juice.

She’d nailed second gear within five hundred feet of the parking lot, and third came soon after. Fourth proved a bit more of a challenge, but now that was behind her as well. Her lips moved at a constant, steady pace, and the cup beside her filled quickly as well. The pouch stuffed between the passenger seat and her own was a third gone.

She hadn’t smiled since this morning with her hairdresser and sister in the same room, as her mother waited in the room next to hers. Elisha flipped the radio low and her voice high. A rapper spoke about life in the ghetto.

She held onto the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, and her joints ached. A song came on the radio that reminded her of him, and she turned up the volume loud enough to rattle the frame. With the windows rolled down, the sound traveled toward the trees on either side of the highway. A motorcycle engine roared behind her, and she pushed the pedal all the way to the floor. She smacked her lips and tapped her forehead. She kept thoughts of her fiancé, her wedding, and the family she left behind to herself and slammed down the lid. She discovered a ball cap within arm’s reach and thumped it on her head.

She floored it around an old Porsche and a Mercedes with custom wheels. She held one thought and then another—What would her family think? How could this be happening to her? Was her fiancé okay?— collecting them like stamps and compartmentalizing each one in her mind until such a time when she could gather them whole and shove forward with her life.

She’d known Ronnie’s past would catch up with them one day, but now was not the time for second guesses.

She kept one eye on the horizon and her goal in mind. Her whole world changed when a car pulled out in front of her. She veered to the left, the pickup nearly coming up on two wheels, the center of gravity shifting with brute force. And then she shoved the pickup hard to the right, as the center of gravity changed once again, and the whole cab moved and shook around her. The wind whipped through with blazing speed, and her knuckles locked against the wheel. She pinged to the right and careened to the left like a ping pong ball through a maze.

Steam rose up around her, and she hoped it wasn’t her own. She bit her lip and drew blood, and even managed to swallow a little of the chewing tobacco. Coughing and gagging and sick to her stomach, she had no idea how to continue onward. Only that she had to. If she failed, she couldn’t deal with the consequences.

She had insisted on a big wedding filled with a dessert buffet, two guitars, one ice sculpture, three photographers, and one deejay. Had she scaled back, she might have found herself in a different predicament than the one she currently found herself in the middle of. The voice on the radio called her a liar.

She discovered love at eighteen when it bit her on the ass and decided to hang around. The fucker, Ronnie Washington, had smiled at her, and her knees buckled in the heat and humidity. Unable to string a coherent sentence together for five minutes, she waited for him to walk away. But he didn’t. Ten minutes later, he asked her out, and she said yes before she gathered what remained of her senses. Six years later—the best six years of her life—he still asked her out, the romantic bastard. Sure, the ups and downs sucked, and he charmed her with all five of his senses, but dammit she loved him anyway. She loved him with her entire body, and still that didn’t seem like enough. Now, in her brother’s pickup, with her whole world abandoned at the golf course, and her fiancé kidnapped in a black piece of crap with four wheels, she shed more water beneath her eyelids.

If she failed to push forward with everything she had, she never stood a chance at success. Sure, she had failed at almost every corner and streetlight. Sure, failure pointed the barrel of its gun in her direction. But failure didn’t stand a chance this time. She’d find a way to succeed, even if it meant she exhausted every last possibility. Even if she didn’t have a damn clue how she’d do it.

About the Author

Robert Downs aspired to be a writer before he realized how difficult the writing process was. Fortunately, he'd already fallen in love with the craft, otherwise his tales might never have seen print. Originally from West Virginia, he has lived in Virginia, Massachusetts, New Mexico, and now resides in California. When he’s not writing, Downs can be found reading, reviewing, traveling, or smiling. To find out more about his latest projects, or to reach out to him on the Internet, visit the author’s website: www.RobertDowns.net. THE BRIDAL CHASE is his seventh book and second novella.

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Blog Tour: The Storyteller's Throne

New Adult Sci-Fi

Date Published: May 14, 2018

A science Fiction novel tangled in the psychology of being human and the vulnerability of an unconventional Love story

Grace was born a storyteller with a beautifully brilliant mind. Trauma twisted her reality into its own tale of darkness. Now, at eighteen, Grace has found herself on the shores of a shadow world created to heal a generation. A world whose purpose is to release our emotions from the bonds of youth.

But she is not alone. It's a world inhabited by others, those working on their own hearts and one other like herself. An amazing and yet afflicted empath and musician by the name of Kai that Grace feels inexplicably drawn to.

Will she be able to handle the suppressed memories of her youth? Accept the vulnerability necessary to explore her own heart and that of another? Fulfill the true purpose it seems she is destined to serve?

Come along with Grace as she learns to uncover her past, harness her gift, open her heart to love and embrace her future.

Review

What a fascinating piece of writing. I was completely immersed in the world that Jocelyn Bates created from the get-go. It was a fast paced and fun ride throughout. I loved the addition of the psychological aspect. I felt like it made me think on a deeper love. Yet she wove in lighter moments and a love story to help cut the tension and darkness. It is a very well balanced novel that gave me every aspect I want when reading a story.

About the Author

Jocelyn Bates is a homeschooling mama to three and an arts therapist. She lives in NJ and writes in the elusive quiet that settles in the earliest of hours.

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Cover Reveal: The Berlin Tunnel - A Cold War Thriller

Thriller / Historical Fiction

Date Published: October 1, 2018

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

During the Cold War, a tunnel was built by British MI-6 and the CIA to tap into a message cable in East Berlin with the hopes of intercepting and exploiting communications with Russia. The Berlin Tunnel is based on this historic event.

***

 In the height of the Cold War, American Air Force Captain Robert Kerr finds himself in a divided Berlin awash with spies who move freely between the East and West. His task—build a TOP SECRET tunnel under the River Spree into East Berlin—tap into highly classified communications links between civilian and military leaders in Russia and the Warsaw Pact countries.

Love couldn’t have found him at a worse time.

Soon after he arrives, Robert falls for a German girl, Anna Fischer. Nasty East German Secret Police harass them both constantly, intent on determining what Robert and his work crew are doing in Berlin, but it’s Anna who gets caught in the crossfire.

 The wall is closed, trapping 19 million East Germans including Anna’s entire family behind the Iron Curtain. As the world holds its collective breath over the Berlin Crisis, Robert and Anna fight for their lives as they attempt to free her family.

Advance Praise

"Exceptional!  The settings and descriptions are vivid and real.  The author is a master of making the reader want to know what happens next.”

 Karen Black, Author of Code of Conduct

"This story was captivating.  A good history lesson as well as a good read.  You get out of one tension-filled event only to have another start almost immediately.”

USN Captain Terry Badger, Author of The Saga of HS-8

“The characters, scenes and dialogue were absolutely believable.  I felt like I was reading an autobiography, believed everything the writer said happened and was surprised when I found it was work of fiction. I enjoyed meeting Anna and Robert and loved seeing the East and West through their experiences—1960s Berlin was as much a character as they are.”

Ingrid Hoffmeister, English Artist and Writer

“I volunteered to be the Beta Readers of a historical novel; what I got was a page turning mystery, love story and spy thriller. The technical details of the building of the tunnel were easy to understand and the tension of the many problems they encounter was believable.  Pat yourself on the back.  You’ve done a great job.  I expected that I wouldn’t really be into the book, but intrigue grabbed me right after the prologue.”

Sarah Vosburgh, Award Winning Short Story Author

About the Author

Roger L. Liles is an admitted over educated bibliophile who decided he had to earn a living after BA and graduate studies in Modern European History; he went back to school and eventually earned an MS in Engineering from USC in 1970. In the 1960s, he was stationed in Turkey and German for five years as a US Air Force Signals Intelligence Officer. He issued reports which got President Johnson out of bed at least five times. He eventually lived in Europe for almost 8 years. He worked in the military electronics field for forty years—his main function was to translate engineering jargon into understandable English and communicate it to senior decision makers in the US government. He took novel writing classes at UCLA for three years including the Master Novel Writers Class. Now retired, he spends most of his time writing novels, but also dotes over his collectables. He is a member of the Scribblers of North San Diego Country. This is his first published novel.  

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PROMO: thedeadgirlinthevacantlot

Fiction - Mystery

Date Published: May 16, 2018

Publisher: Spotlight Publishing

         Phoenix investigative reporter Joya Bonner is like most Americans—she knows nothing about the world of sex trafficking; thinks it's a problem reserved for somewhere far off. Thailand. Russia.

         But the reality that this is an American problem slaps her in the face when  her 15 year-old honorary niece disappears in Phoenix.  And a 13 year-old from her hometown in North Dakota goes missing.  And there's that pitiful dead girl in the vacant lot. As the evidence piles up that these are all part of the sex-slave underworld, Joy's awakening chills her to the bone.

         She's sickened even more when she realizes the website that pimps use to sell these girls was created in Phoenix at the weekly newspaper New Times—by guys she knew; by journalists she admired; by men she'd defended in the pages of her own newspaper when they were attacked by Sheriff Joe Arpaio.

         Joya's frantic search to find the missing girls—and identify the dead child—brings readers into the real world of sex trafficking. It includes the true history of Backpage.com, that's been called an “online brothel,” and its founders, Mike Lacey and Jim Larkin, currently awaiting trial on charges of facilitating sex trafficking.

         This book combines a riveting fictional story with the reality that is ripped from today's headlines. The book ends with an extensive “end notes” section that details the facts and personalities of this world—both from those exploiting youngsters for prostitution, and those who have long fought to stop it.

About the Author

Jana Bommersbach is one of Arizona's most acclaimed journalists and authors. She's already been honored with two lifetime achievement awards as “an inspiration to the state's media community.”  She's been inducted into the Arizona Arts and Entertainment Hall of Fame, and honored by the ACLU as a “journalist and activist who speaks truth to power.”  She's won a regional Emmy for her television work and was named the nation's best columnist in a city magazine for her work at Phoenix magazine. She twice won the Don Bolles Award in Investigative Reporting for her work at Phoenix New Times.

         Jana is known as a tenacious researcher and lyrical writer. Her debut non-fiction book, “The Trunk Murderess: Winnie Ruth Judd” was nominated for the prestigious Edgar Allan Poe Award as one of the nation's best mysteries in 1992.  Her children's book, “A Squirrel's Story, a True Tale” won numerous awards here and abroad. Her first historical novel, “Cattle Kate,” was named one of the best books of 2014 by Publisher's Weekly. With “thedeadgirlinthevacantlot,” Jana continues exploring the world of fiction with her character, Phoenix investigative reporter Joya Bonner.

          To satisfy her journalistic soul, Jana combines a fictional story with real-life incidents she's covered in the past. In her first Joya Bonner book, “Funeral Hotdish,” it was the problem of Sammy “the Bull” Gravano and his Arizona ecstasy ring and how it affected Joya's safe, secure hometown in North Dakota that buried one of its children from a drug overdose.  In this new book, Joya takes on the world of sex-trafficking.  As the book was going to press, federal officials shut down the “online brothel” known as Backpage.com and its founders—Mike Lacey and Jim Larkin—were arrested and are awaiting trial on multiple counts of facilitating sex-trafficking.

         This is a particularly poignant story for Jana to write, for a dozen years before Backpage was created, she was partners with Mike and Jim in owning Phoenix New Times. She left and sold her interest to pursue other journalistic options. As she says in the Epilogue, “I write this book with a broken heart.”

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