Blog Tour: Cain's Chameleon

 

Historical Fiction Mystery Thriller

Date Published: 01-26-2026

Publisher: Bearss Lair Books

If the newspaper reported your death and no one questioned it, would you correct the mistake… or take the lifeline?

Dan Driscoll is consumed by gambling debt, cornered by bookies and loan sharks, forced to bet on one last scheme. When things turn violent and two people are shot, his best friend, Stan Neumann, swallows what he suspects. He can’t risk divulging a closely-held family secret.

Then a body washes up on the Lake Michigan shoreline, and the lake gives Dan what the bookies never would: a way out. Authorities call it an accident and list him as the drowning victim. For Dan, it’s an escape route delivered in black ink.

He becomes a ghost, an imposter, a chameleon. But lies don’t stay buried.

As America is pulled into World War II, Stan enlists, choosing duty on his terms before the draft can rewrite his life. In Pearl Harbor, one chance encounter dredges up a name he thought was long buried.

War changes everything, but it doesn’t erase unfinished business. And when the truth demands to be heard, how long can a stolen life stay buried before the past comes to collect?

Excerpt

Lucy wasn’t smiling like she used to when she folded her letter, slipped it into the envelope, sealed it with a kiss, and applied the three-cent stamp. Even the spring in her step lacked the zeal she typically exhibited during her walk to the post office. The words on the paper were true to her commitment. They spoke of the news from the home front, stories that helped Stan’s morale, and made sure her underlying message was being proud, supportive, and encouraging. The words wandering around in Lucy’s thoughts, however, were in stark contrast to this messaging.

Ever since Stan was assigned to the navy radar training school, Lucy had become more and more unsure in her belief that things would be okay. His work as an Aviation Machinists Mate stateside meant he was safe. And Minneapolis was relatively close to home. Being trained as a radarman for shipboard duties meant it was more likely he would be sent overseas into a combat zone. This caused a higher level of worry. Like everything else this war has put in short supply, her ration of optimism was slowly being depleted, and the resources for replenishing that reservoir were becoming scarce.

Her quandary was not letting Stan know about this foreboding, even though he was normally her most trusted sounding board. She tried to talk about this with her sister Millie. But Millie’s approach to these heartfelt struggles was to fix them, make them go away, or advise Lucy, “Try not to think about it.” This was not the type of support Lucy needed.

During her alone time, sitting staring out the window, the overwhelming emotion that prevailed over all others was that she really missed her husband. She now knew what being heartbroken felt like.

 

 

 While author Mark Bearss was setting the stage for his retirement, concerned co-workers would ask, “What are you going to do when you’re not working?” He found this question rather curious. It should have been posed, “What are you going to do first?” Mark knew that if travel was involved, he had had enough of commercial flights after 28 years of teaching for the medical device industry. Mark yearned for road trips – to visit those places he only saw from 38,000 feet. Little did he know that wish journeyed down an unexpected fork in the road. He would become an author.

While conducting genealogy research, Mark discovered archived de-classified military documents that revealed the name of a U.S. Navy destroyer his father served aboard during WWII. The reason this was a poignant discovery was because, while growing up in Grand Rapids, Michigan, his father made no mention of this. Apart from being a U.S. Naval Reserve flight instructor, he knew his father served aboard the carrier USS ESSEX. But in what capacity? That, too, was not revealed. More discoveries materialized the further he dug. In fact, there was a lot more his father didn’t mention. This wasn’t unusual. Many WWII veterans didn’t talk about what happened back then.

Because of the pandemic, the National Archives in St. Louis was closed and rendered Lt. Bearss’ military records unavailable. Thus began a project that challenged Mark’s research endeavors for over two years and about 5,000 miles on the road. The biographical sketch was sorted from creative Internet search strings, history books, navy publications, and networking with journalists, librarians, archivists, bloggers, aviation enthusiasts, museum and historical society curators, navy veterans, relatives, and more. One online resource that was instrumental in tracking his father’s journey was the weekly newspaper published in the county where his parents grew up: The Oceana Herald. It included a Local News section where family members and organizations could submit a short blurb about a relative’s visit, a social gathering, or – where a son or husband was currently stationed.

This project culminated in 2022 with Mark’s first publication titled, Undisclosed Stories Discovered: Honoring the World War II Military Journey of Lt. Joseph Ward Bearss, USNR. When asked what was one of the highlights surrounding this story, he described the road trips to seek out and discover places where his father lived, trained and was stationed during the war. What prompted him to write this as a biography took place during a meeting with the curator of the World War II Home Front Museum on St. Simons Island, Georgia. St. Simons Naval Air Station was the site for the U.S. Naval Radar Training Station, where Lt. Bearss was trained in shipboard radar operations, enemy interception, and Fighter Direction. While the museum had ample archived materials about the facility, it had very little documented about the servicemembers who trained there.

Only 250 copies were printed. Mark went back on the road in his Class-B motorhome and personally donated those copies to family members, friends and relatives, the librarians, archivists, researchers, museums, curators, historical societies, newspapers, The American Heritage Center, VFW Posts, airport FBOs, and other assorted WWII enthusiasts in 12 states who helped in his endeavors. It was a two-fold reward. Not only did his father’s story finally become told, Mark experienced the pleasure of meeting all these wonderful people who were his resources, advisors, collaborators, and consultants. Up until that point, they were only names in an email contact list.

You’re probably asking, “How is all this relevant to Mark’s new novel, Cain’s Chameleon?” It was the research from The Oceana Herald that planted the seed for this story. While perusing its issues, Mark stumbled on two articles that piqued his curiosity. The first reported an attempted murder in a home close to his family’s summer cottage on Lake Michigan. The second reported a drowning victim that washed up on the beach right where Mark and his friends used to play. Just two more stories never divulged while growing up. He wondered, Were these two events related? Then Mark decided — he would make them related.

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PROMO: Dosa Day

 

 

Children’s Picture Book

Date Published: June 2, 2026

It’s Dosa Day!

 

Join a curious child and their loving Ammamma on a joyful kitchen adventure filled with crispy dosas, colorful chutneys, and heartwarming family traditions. As they learn about different kinds of dosas, they discover that the real magic isn’t just in cooking—it’s in the time spent together.

Dosa Day is a playful children’s picture book celebrating Indian cuisine, family traditions, and intergenerational love. With rhythmic read-aloud text and vibrant illustrations, this story creates a rich sensory experience that introduces young readers to culture, connection, and mindful togetherness.

 

Perfect for children ages 3–7, this diverse picture book is ideal for:

• Multicultural children’s books
• Indian and South Asian culture stories for kids
• Picture books about food, family, and traditions
• Engaging read-aloud bedtime stories

Whether you’re introducing Indian cuisine like dosa for the first time or building a more inclusive children’s library, Dosa Day is a meaningful addition to any child’s bookshelf.

 

About the Author

 

 In the quiet magic of the Mojave Desert, where the sky stretches wide and the sunsets set everything golden, Veena Katikineni found the perfect place to let her imagination wander.

Dosa Day was born from a heart full of cherished memories: big, bustling family gatherings with her beloved Indian family, where the house was always full, the food was always flowing, and the smell of something delicious was always drifting through the air. Food wasn’t just food — it was love, laughter, and the heartbeat of every gathering.

A physician by training, Veena has spent her career caring for others, but she has always believed that stories heal in their own special way. This is her love letter to dosa, to her roots, and to the joy of sharing both with the world.

When she’s not writing or seeing patients, you’ll find her on her yoga mat, planning the family’s next adventure, or exploring the world with her loving husband and two spirited boys, her favorite companions in wandering and in life.

She believes magic lives in the everyday moments, especially the ones shared around a table.

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PROMO: Voices Carry Here

 

Mystery and Suspense

Date Published: 05-04-2026

Publisher: Mission Point Press

Do you hear the voices? Listen if you dare . . . You’ll get both the heebies and the jeebies in this unsettling new title.

A henpecked husband learns that “till death do us part” isn’t the end of the story when his dead wife returns.

A newly retired couple uncovers a pestilent secret buried beneath their dream home.

A young woman retreats to the countryside to discover herself, only to stumble upon an unsolved tragedy calling out for justice.

Voices Carry Here is a collection of short stories steeped in mystery, suspense, and the supernatural. Set against the beauty of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, these tales will reveal secrets just beneath the surface of tranquil lakes, cries for help echoing from shadowed campgrounds, and small-town characters experiencing extraordinary circumstances.

Blending chills with warmth, author Gail Galotta’s flair for supernatural suspense is tempered with touches of humor, romance, and nostalgia.

 
Excerpt from “The Pestilence House”

We moved into our newly constructed home in early June. The first nightmare occurred just two weeks later.

I awoke to the sound of heavy breathing. Thinking at first that it was Ken, I swept my arm across to his side, but it was vacant. I quickly realized that something else was present in the room, something that was steadily approaching the bed. I lay there paralyzed, my back to the presence that hovered above me for a moment and then lowered toward my head. I could feel the subtle waves of labored breaths against the nape of my neck. I tried to scream, but terror froze my vocal cords. Is this a dream? It must be a dream! Where is Ken! Then, another sound invaded my ears—a guttural noise, like that of an animal. A racoon? A coyote? I jerked my head around and opened my mouth to fend off the beast with a mighty shout. Instead, my lips encountered the extended tongue of a different creature. His distorted face—with its bulbous nose and bulging eyes—scarcely seemed human. His skin was dappled with bruises and only thinly veiled the skeletal frame beneath. Suddenly, the tongue retracted, and the jaw extended in an effort to speak—or bite. I screamed. A bloodcurdling scream that vanquished the intruder and sent my very human husband rushing upstairs.

Ken turned on the light and sat next to me on the bed while I attempted an explanation of…I wasn’t sure what. He suggested that my nightmare may have been prompted by something I heard from the movie he had been watching. My trembling eased as he continued. “Sometimes I wake up and think someone’s at our door. You know, like when our dog used to hear a doorbell on TV.”

The reference made me smile. “I didn’t bark, did I?”

Although Ken’s theory seemed plausible, I wasn’t totally convinced. Especially after I suffered a similar experience a few nights later. Our cocker spaniel had been gone for several years, but when I felt the mattress yield to the weight of something at my feet, my first thought was of that beloved pet, and I instinctively adjusted my position to accommodate her. Then my eyes flashed open. Something was moving slowly along my body. I could feel the light depressions on the blanket, like footsteps in the snow. This time I didn’t scream. My breaths quivered as something pressed gently on my back and then my shoulder. I lay still, waiting to throw off the…squirrel? Rat? But when a whisper approached my ear, I bolted upright. Whatever noise I made alarmed Ken. This time the television was off, and the only ambient sound that could have possibly inspired my dream was the rhythmic breathing of my husband, who had been asleep next to me in bed.

 

About the Author

Gail Galotta was raised in Chicago with childhood summers in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.

She’s always been drawn to the mystical pull of water, which often shapes the settings of her stories. An award-winning writer and former English teacher, she lives in Vulcan, Michigan, overlooking the same lake that inspired her earliest work. When asked what inspires her latest fiction, she offers only a cryptic smile.

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PROMO: Shadow

 

 

Riptide MC, Books 6

MC Romance

Date Published: June 6, 2026

Publisher: ChangelingPress

In my world, loyalty is everything and Wynter is mine. Mess with her, you answer to me.

Wynter -- Scary Guy lived up to his name, threatening to rape me and sell me as a whore. Not happening. I reached for the hidden blade at my ankle just as a tattooed biker wearing a Riptide MC cut stepped in to save me. The dude knew how to handle an asshole like Scary Guy without breaking a sweat. Gorgeous as he is, this biker isn’t just eye candy. I find myself kissing him in the middle of a crowd of nerds and superheroes. I have a thing for tough guys with tattoos. My head tells me to run, but I want more. I want him.

Shadow -- I noticed her the second she slipped in front of us, alert and watchful like she expected trouble just for existing. When some ape starts pawing her, I step in. Nobody manhandles a woman in front of me. I pretend she belongs to me, and she plays right along. I’m willing to do more than just talk tough if the bastard won’t back off. When he proves how stupid he is, attacking her in the parking lot, I’ve got the excuse I needed to beat some sense into him. Wynter’s mine, whether she knows it or not. Trouble’s not finished with her, and neither am I.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Anne Kane

Wynter

I glanced over my shoulder. He was still there.

I’d dubbed him Scary Guy.

I tried to convince myself I was just being paranoid and the guy just happened to be headed in the same direction as me. I’d never seen him before; I was sure of that. You didn’t forget a face like his with a jagged scar down the side of his cheek and a spider web with a skull in the center tattooed on his neck. There was no reason for him to be fixated on me.

I certainly wasn’t the kind of woman men liked to fantasize over. I was short, wiry, and dressed as a Browncoat, one of the characters out of my favorite sci-fi series. I didn’t have a spectacular rack or an hourglass figure and my hair hung in a single braid down my back, the only way I’d found to keep it from exploding into a messy tangle.

I assessed him out of the corner of my eye. He was big and solid, although at this distance it was hard to tell if that bulk was muscles or a beer belly. He had on some kind of dark costume with a black cape that fell to mid-thigh. This was a comic book convention, so his outfit wasn’t all that strange. I had no idea who he thought he looked like. I swear ninety percent of the people here wore capes of some type. It could be anybody or nobody.

He looked dangerous, though, the kind of guy you avoid being caught alone with. Unfortunately, I was well acquainted with the type. I grew up in the projects, daughter of a junkie too deep into her addictions to care about me. Self-preservation meant I’d developed a sixth sense when it came to creeps like this a long time ago.

I gave my head a mental shake. This may not be Dragon Con in Atlanta, but there were still several thousand people here. He couldn’t just drag me off to a dark room, even if he wanted to, so why did his stare send shivers of apprehension down my spine?

As if he could sense my attention, the asshole grinned at me and licked his lips. Yikes! If I had any doubt that he was focused on me, it fled right then and there.

“Excuse me.” I shouldered my way between a young woman dressed as Batwoman and a couple dressed as Shrek and his bride. Zigzagging back and forth, I headed for the doorway. Maybe I could lose the creep in the crowd.

“Hey, watch it!” A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle glared up at me when I accidentally stood on her foot. This section of the event was crowded, waiting for some promised celebrities to appear. I mumbled an apology and continued to wade my way through the crowd, trying to recall the map they’d handed me when I got here. The place was a warren of smaller rooms radiating off a central hall. I should be able to find a spot to hide.

A quick glance behind me showed Scary Guy was following me. My heart rate increased as adrenaline flooded my system. I had too much at stake right now to be caught in an altercation with anyone.

The crowd parted in front of the jerk with no effort from him. I got it. One glare from that face and no one wanted the kind of trouble it promised. I still didn’t understand why he’d singled me out. Just my bad luck? I felt like a rabbit being stalked by a coyote, looking for a hole to vanish into. I just needed to get out of his line of sight long enough to dart into one of those smaller side rooms and disappear.

It seemed like forever before I finally reached the doorway and plunged out into the main hall. The crowds were thinner here, and I took advantage of the opportunity to dash across to the far side and slide into the Marvel Comics section.

Not surprisingly, the room was crowded, people packed in shoulder to shoulder. For once my lack of height played to my advantage. Anyone scanning the area from the entranceway would have a hard time seeing me when most of the gathering towered over top of me. Making my way to the center of the room, I turned to scan the area behind me.

Nothing.

Scary Guy was nowhere in sight. I let out a ragged breath and put a hand up to my chest. I could feel my heart racing beneath my fingertips. So much for being a brave member of the Resistance. All it took was one creepy guy to send me scurrying for cover. He hadn’t even been that close to me, let alone within touching distance.

I inhaled deeply, trying to remember the meditation class I’d once attended. I needed to calm down. It’s not like this was the first time I found myself running from the hint of danger. As a kid, my life had been chaotic at best. My mother might have been a junkie who cared more about her next fix than me, but in order to stay out of the foster care system, I’d had to make sure she stayed alive.

Sometimes that meant doing things that could get me thrown into juvie, like pick-pocketing for rent money. It was more luck than skill that I never got caught. I became an expert at shoplifting and begging long before I hit double digits. I had a plan, and I clung to it like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. All I had to do was make it to sixteen without drawing the attention of Child Protective Services, and I could split. Free from the threat of foster care, I could do anything I wanted.

A simple plan, but a workable one.

Then my mom got pregnant again.

I have no idea who Star’s father is, and I doubt Mom did either. She was at that point in her addiction where she would sleep with anyone for a fix so there were lots of candidates to choose from, and none of them had names.

My little sister was born on a hot July day, in the back of a dealer’s van, and I was instantly smitten. Somehow Child Protective Services didn’t get wind of the birth, or they were too overworked to care about one more kid who wouldn’t amount to much. Mom brought the baby home, and I took over, making sure Star was fed and clothed and stayed alive.

I already knew how her life would go if I didn’t stick around, so it’s not like I had a choice. Star blinked up at me with those big blue eyes, and my heart melted. I promised myself then and there that I’d look after her.

Star wasn’t exactly a normal name, but then neither was Wynter. Mom had a thing for weird names. Maybe it came from having such a boring name herself, or maybe she thought naming my little sister Star would give her a chance in life. In her own way, when the need for a fix wasn’t consuming her, I liked to think Mom cared about us.

My attention snapped back to the present. Something was happening in the front of the room. A buzz of excitement swept through the crowd. I stretched up on tiptoe to see, but there were three big guys in front of me blocking my view. They laughed and joked with one another, oblivious to me or anyone else in the crowd.

Gritting my teeth, I squeezed between them.

No wonder the crowd was so excited. From a partially hidden door up front, four of the Marvel Avengers stalked into the room. Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk all took their seats at the signing table while the Black Widow stood up and swept the room with a piercing gaze. With a theatrical flourish, she picked up the microphone from the table in front of her. Laughter and excitement rippled through the crowd as she introduced herself and her companions as if everyone present wasn’t very aware of who they were. Showing off her agility with an impressive back flip, she landed in her seat and indicated the signing was now open.

The crowd surged forward, carrying me along with it. I had no intention of paying to have someone sign a comic for me, no matter how famous or agile they were, but the crowd’s excitement was contagious. It didn’t cost anything to watch, and if I got close enough, I might even be able to get a picture of one of the fabled Avengers on my phone. Star would love that. She was eight and loved comic books the way I loved to draw. I fished my phone out of my pocket and let out a sigh of relief when I saw I’d actually remembered to fully charge it the night before. Now I just needed to get close enough to that table to snap a picture or two.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I glanced behind me, expecting to see Scary Guy. Instead, my gaze landed on the three big guys I’d seen earlier, still laughing and joking with each other. I’d noticed that they all wore leather cuts with some kind of logo on the back, and I’d spent enough time on the streets to know what that meant.

It showed their motorcycle club affiliation, and not the granddaddy going for a Sunday ride kind of club. That alone should have twigged my survival instinct, but for some reason it didn’t. They certainly looked the part of outlaw gang members. Tough, tattooed, leather-clad guys with muscles to spare, they had that aura about them that spelled danger. Not a bunch you’d want to mess with, especially if you were trying to convince the courts you were a responsible, law-abiding citizen.

The biker in the center looked directly at me, and a slow grin spread across his face. He lifted one brow as if questioning my attention. Damn, he was mouthwatering, although maybe that wasn’t quite the word. Appealing? Sexy? Tempting? Definitely not hard on the eyes. I could picture myself licking my way down his…

I blushed, but I didn’t look away. He looked like the kind of guy who wouldn’t be shocked by my home life or my mom’s abdication of her parental responsibilities. Maybe a carnal distraction might help settle my nerves before the court date.

A commotion erupted in the entranceway, pulling me out of my daydream. Scary Guy and his buddies were pushing their way into the room, knocking other attendees out of their way like might made right or some other stupid macho shit. Abandoning my silent exchange with Sexy Biker, I pivoted to face the front of the room. Hopefully Scary Guy wouldn’t be able to pick me out of the crowd if he couldn’t see my face. Not like we were old buddies or anything.

The Marvel characters were hamming it up, signing, and occasionally posing for photos. A couple of conference workers dressed in shirts with the Marvel logo on them were collecting money from the fans as they handed over comics to sign or the fee for having their picture taken with one of the celebrities. When the characters stood to pose with the fans, I managed to snap some shots with my phone, although I wasn’t close enough for details. I could tweak the pictures when I got back home, editing out the fans. With any luck, I’d have a few usable pictures for Star to gush over.

I jumped as an enormous hand clamped down painfully on my shoulder. “Thought you could get away, did you?”

Shit.

Scary Guy.

I couldn’t afford to just knee the asshole in the balls, tempting as that was. The courts would definitely frown on that. Plastering a calm expression on my face, I twisted around and drew my brows down in a puzzled frown. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

His grin was pure evil. “Not yet, but I plan to fix that. You’re coming with me to a place where we can get to know each other real well.” Keeping his hand on my shoulder, he swept my body with a glance that left me feeling dirty. “Real, real well.”

I shook my head, trying to resist the temptation to pull my knife out of its hidden ankle sheath. “Sorry, but I don’t think my boyfriend would like that.” I tried to shrug his hand off my shoulder. “He’s a bit old-fashioned when it comes to things like that.”

Scary Guy dismissed my imaginary boyfriend with a flick of his hand. “Where is he? My boys can take care of him.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m flattered you think I’m worth that much trouble, but I’m going to pass. I have things to do today.” I shrugged out from under his hand and took a step toward the back of the room. The people around us were too wrapped up in the excitement of the Avengers to pay any attention to my discomfort and shifted to let me through.

Scary Guy reached out to stop me, hooking one meaty hand into the belt at my waist. I twisted in his grip, and anger mottled his expression. “I don’t think you understand, bitch. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

So much for playing the model citizen.

I reached for my knife.

* * *

 

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

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Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

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PROMO: Resilient Mental Health for Teens

A Practical Guide to Calm Anxiety & Stress, Build Copying Skills, Boost Confidence, Improve Communication, and Strengthen ...

 

Teens & Young Adult, Self-Help, Stress Management

Date Published: May 31, 2026

Publisher: Growth Mindset Publishing

There will always be times when life is stressful and overwhelming, but with the right tools and techniques in your back pocket, you can bounce back stronger every single time.

 

School is stressful, your social life is stressful, and the thought of the future is stressful.

Sometimes it seems as though everything is stressful.

If you’re feeling the pressure from every direction, you’re not alone.

Whether they admit it or not, most teens feel this. In fact, research has found that 83% consider school a major source of stress… and that’s before we even get to social media or your relationships with friends and family.

Since everyone’s dealing with it, you might have thought this is just something you have to live with, but did you know that there are things you can do to fortify yourself so that all the stress, anxiety, and overwhelm can roll off your shoulders like water off a duck’s back?

There are a ton of coping strategies that take no more than a few minutes to perform that will make a really big difference in how you handle it all.

Better yet, you can develop the skills that will make it easier to navigate relationships and social situations so that your anxiety doesn’t get so high in the first place.

You’re about to discover it all in this practical and engaging guide, and you’re bound to start noticing the difference immediately.

 

Inside, you’ll discover:

• Exactly what stress is, why it happens, and how to catch it early
• ·Simple coping strategies for fast relief in any situation that has your heart racing or your mind swirling
• How to stay present (and why this will make such a big difference)
• What “the white bear effect” is, how it’s affecting your emotions, and what you can do to make all your big feelings easier to handle
• How to rewrite your inner voice, bounce back stronger, and build an inner strength that will carry you through life
• The art of healthy communication (with practical advice for dealing with conflict, setting boundaries, and much more)
• The secret to staying organized without burning out (take the stress out of deadlines and overload)
• Your complete social life survival guide: Make your interactions easier and less overwhelming both on and offline
• What to do when you’re worried that your stress or anxiety is becoming too intense for you to handle on your own
• Fun and practical activities to help you put your new skills into practice right away
• And much more.

 

If you’ve been told to “just relax” or to stay positive more times than you care to remember, you might doubt that there’s much you can do to make life less stressful and overwhelming. You might even have started to worry that you’re the only one who feels like this.

But how are you meant to relax or stay positive when you don’t know what you need to do to get there?

You absolutely have what it takes to handle whatever life throws at you and bounce back from stress, worry, and fear as though you barely felt it at all. All you need are the right strategies—and you’re about to get your hands on all of them.

 

Ready to armor yourself for life? Get your copy today!!

About the Author

Chad K. Smith is a self-published author, father of two, and dedicated mentor focused on helping teenagers and young adults develop strong financial skills early in life. With more than 25 years of experience in finance and an MBA, Chad recognizes that many people lack a fundamental understanding of how money works, and he is committed to addressing this gap.

In his books, Chad explains money, investing, and life skills in clear, practical steps that teens can understand and apply. He avoids jargon and lengthy lectures, instead offering real-world guidance to help readers build confidence, make informed decisions, and plan for their future, whether by saving, investing, or developing long-term thinking.

Chad distinguishes himself by making financial education empowering, practical, and engaging. His writing encourages teens to take responsibility for their decisions, build strong habits, and believe in their ability to succeed regardless of their background.

Chad’s books have become trusted guides for teens and families who want more than just information; they want action, growth, and a better future. If you are ready to build confidence, take control, and create opportunities your future self will appreciate, Chad K. Smith is poised to guide the way. Take the next step today by downloading a free chapter from his latest book or scheduling a family meeting tonight to set financial goals together. This simple action could be the start of your journey towards financial empowerment.

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PROMO: Across and Down in the Desert

A Phyllis Doran Cozy Mystery

Cozy Mystery

Date Published: May 1, 2026

A crossword puzzle. A vanished archaeologist. A desert that refuses to forget.

Retired archaeologist Phyllis Doran is enjoying the quiet beauty of the Arizona desert, until a mysterious crossword puzzle leads her to a trail of hidden clues. As curiosity pulls her deeper into the puzzle, Phyllis discovers that some secrets are buried for a reason… and solving this one may take all her wit and courage.

 

 

About the Author

 

 M. J. Coss is the author of the Phyllis Doran Mystery series, beginning with Across and Down in the Desert. Blending puzzle-driven storytelling with richly detailed settings, his work explores the intersection of history, language, and human resilience.

Set against the striking backdrop of the American Southwest, his mysteries follow retired field archaeologist Phyllis Doran as she uncovers buried secrets that refuse to stay hidden. With a love of wordplay and layered clues, Coss crafts stories where every answer leads to a deeper question, and every puzzle carries real consequences.

He is also the author of the Grady the Groundhog’s Maplewood Tales series for young readers (also available on Amazon), written under the name C.A. Coss.

Coss lives in Northeast Ohio with his family, where he continues to write stories that celebrate curiosity, perseverance, and the thrill of discovery.

 

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Blog Tour: The Bric-a-Brac of Mickey Mack

 

Poetry /Comedy Satire Gift Rhyme Millennial Humor Silverstein Memory

Date Published: 04-15-2026

Publisher: The Tink and Tank Press

A wry poetry collection that captures the jarring sink-or-swim leap into adulthood. This book honors the limbo of exiting youth, a unique period where responsibility suddenly smashes the youthful optimist, crushing it under the crippling weight of adulthood. Twenty-somethings scatter across life's spectrum with some jobless and couch-surfing, while others marry, become parents, and buy a house. Everyone eventually finds themselves old enough to fight in foreign wars but too young to rent a car. It's the fast, brutal shift to an unguarded world, to bowling without bumpers. You've entered a chaotic soup of competing ambitions and subterfuge, where one hand offers help while the other conceals a knife. You're expected to be an adult without ever having been one, like seeing the ocean from afar and suddenly wrestling its waves. This book highlights the inevitable sense of crushing defeat and loss, but reveals the importance of laughing anyway. After all, life is a game of avoiding the consequences of your own actions. The Bric-a-Brac of Mickey Mack will hand you a mirror and dare you to laugh at its reflection.

Excerpt

I sat across from him, he had a twisted distant gaze

while he wracked his mind and grappled with a foolish phrase

which was written on a note and shuffled in a mess of junk

atop a desk ensconced in filth, no doubt the man was drunk.

His name was Mickey Mack, both laser focused and aloof,

fenced in by Bric-a-Brac unpacked and stacked up to the roof.

A product of his times, so wise, yet dumber than a door.

A man of vast experience and yet he’s such a bore.

He’d traveled ’round the world and been to many foreign lands

to simply say he had, to sit and sulk, his only plans.

For “that’s what people do,” he’d say, “they travel to enjoy

the petty world and what it offers every girl and boy.”

Despite the fact that Mr. Mack had traveled far and wide

he would do what’s done at home and find a bar to sit inside.

And there, while many past him by, bemoaning life itself,

it tortured Mickey for he couldn’t help but see himself.

He realized now that time is gone, and that’s the way it is,

and he, while living other people’s lives, had wasted his.

And as a way, as best he could, expel the toxic bile,

he has compiled every groan and gripe within a file.

And written down, at last, now put together in a book

the crying whines of all he heard from all the trips he took.

A vapid, superficial twit, he sobered up somehow,

and Mickey Mack looked up at me behind a furrowed brow,

and as he squinted, leaning closer straining hard to see,

He was looking in a mirror, for the hopeless fool was me

About the Author

Mickey Mack is a world-weary traveler and obsessive collector of life’s absurd talismans and trinkets. After years of eavesdropping on bar-stool confessions around the globe, he distills the Suffering Olympics of modern adulthood into witty, rhythmic heroic couplets.

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Purchase Link

https://mybook.to/BricaBrackMickeyMack 

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