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Friday, July 26, 2024

Blog Tour: Wrinkled Rebels

 

 

Literary Novel / Historical Fiction

Date Published: 07-23-2024

Publisher: Vine Leaves Press


 

Now 80 years old, retirement and advanced age have dissipated the spirit of six college radicals of the 1960s, who jointly had participated in civil rights campaigns and anti-war protests. Having engaged in only periodic communication over the decades, they suddenly receive an invitation to reunite for an extended weekend. Struggling with whether to go, each of them has divergent qualms and expectations for the proposed gathering.

During their three days together, they confront their inner demons, each other, and their future. Does Rebecca, the prime mover of the event, find solace after losing her wife and career? Can Malaika regain her sense of self after stepping down from her successful law practice? Mourning the loss of her youthful athletic prowess and attractiveness, what happens when Deanna faces her old friends?

Struggling with two divorces and a failing marriage, can Russell attain peace of mind? How will Max, an expat living in Canada, manage with his incipient dementia? Will the demoralized Keith recover his idealism?

Wrinkled Rebels is a story of how six people achieve meaningful lives through the struggle for social justice. It is also a tale of love, the bonds of friendship, and growing old positively.

 





Excerpt 

Rebecca walks into the condo’s large kitchen and looks at the heap of unopened

retirement cards on the table. She flips through the envelopes and grimaces, knowing that they will express some variation of “Best Wishes on Your Retirement” in assorted designs and colors. She doesn’t intend to open any of them. They were probably glad to get rid of her, she reflects. Rebecca had felt the pressure from the younger organizers. She was not up to par anymore. Too old-fashioned in her ways. Taking up space in the upper ranks that they were anxious to fill.

She runs her fingers through her short, thinning white curls as she considers her situation. She used to have her life in order. Each piece had been painstakingly assembled by the time she was forty. Political activist, union organizer, daughter, and part of a couple. Later, when Susan was stricken with cancer, she had added caregiver. The construction seemed indestructible, as though it would last forever. She had counted on each part to keep her grounded, to make her existence meaningful. It wasn’t easy to keep everything in harmony, and she wasn’t always successful. But then everything had fallen apart, one by one. Ultimately, only her work recharged her, at least for a while. She had been too busy to nurture friendships, to do the heavy lifting to keep relationships afloat.

Rebecca swallows hard. Now she is alone and lonely. She muses about old age and its victims, those who suffer from chronic illness or dementia, or who pass away—

and their grief-stricken loved ones, like her. She has lost her mother, father, and mate, the most important people in her life, except for Max and the gang. She wonders how they are faring in their advanced years.

Suddenly, she wants him. She craves all of them. Their friendship had been such an integral part of her youth. She paces the kitchen and then darts back into the bedroom, pulls open the closet door, and rummages around until she finds the frayed cardboard box tucked away in a back corner. The container is bursting with photos of her old comrades—several fading. She bites her lip and reproaches herself for neglecting to put them in albums, certain that most people would have taken the time to preserve them better.

Hands trembling, she inspects a stack of them, lingering on several pictures from the summer of 1965, following their second year at City College. They had volunteered for Project Uplift (PUL), an experimental summer anti-poverty project in Central Harlem. The venture had been sponsored by Harlem Youth Opportunities Unlimited—HARYO—the major social agency in the impoverished ghetto. After their Freedom Summer in the South, they had decided they would henceforth commit their energies to their own backyard. Certainly, there were sufficient economic and civil rights issues in the North, Malaika had reminded them when they were considering their next endeavor. Rebecca had thought about the segregation in her junior high and her daddy’s clear-sighted views about social justice.

It had been a frustrating but satisfying summer, despite the long hours at no pay. They had mingled daily with Harlemites, both young and old, learning of their needs firsthand. At night they slept together on the floor of a community leader’s row house. For Rebecca, that had been the highlight of the experience, sharing views about the day’s accomplishments with each other. Despite the stifling summer heat, they had stayed up late into the night exploring ideas on social change. Rebecca savored every moment of their discussions.

Rebecca sifts through more pictures of her friends, warmth radiating throughout her body as she nourishes herself with memories of their shared lives, of her early adulthood. Periodically, she fingers a particular snapshot and holds it close to her chest. An idea is gradually taking shape in her mind as she longs to erase the distance between them.

Yes, she thinks, as she clenches her hands into fists. She eyes the retirement cards again. Why not? Rebecca slips on her navy blue peacoat, wool beanie, and sheepskin-lined winter boots and wraps herself in the cashmere scarf that Susan had knitted for her birthday ten years ago. She walks purposefully to a CVS, two blocks away, grateful that the stores have shoveled their sidewalks following the recent snowstorm. Once inside, she heads straight to the greeting card racks and scans them, homing in on what she came for: a pack of purple invitations with matching envelopes. For emphasis, she purchases two bags of lavender glitter. Her heart is pounding, and she closes her eyes for a moment. They will come, she assures herself. 974


About the Author

Laura Katz Olson, AGF Distinguished Professor of Political Science, has taught at Lehigh University since 1974. To date, she has published nine nonfiction books, focusing on aging and healthcare. Her latest, Ethically Challenged: Private Equity Storms U.S. Health Care has been awarded several gold medals, including from the Independent Book Publishers Association (IBPA) and the Benjamin Franklin Awards. Elder Care Journey: A View from the Front Lines, which relates her personal experiences as a caregiver for her mother, won a Gold Medal in the Ninth Annual Living Now Book Awards. Wrinkled Rebels is her second novel.

 

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Thursday, July 25, 2024

PROMO: SIN

 



Death Riders MC


MC Romance

Date Published: 07-23-1124

Publisher: Evernight Publishing


 

Adira Dobias thought she had the perfect life along with a perfect fiancĂ©. When she discovers her supposedly pious parents aren’t the God-fearing people she thought them to be, it sends her running. She arrives in Cardinal, at the home of a childhood friend, in order to figure out where to go next.

When she applies for a job at a strip club, owned by the Death Riders, Ares hires her on the spot. He thinks she is the woman he and Hunter have been searching for. The perfect woman to belong to both of them.

It was only supposed to be fun, but somewhere along the way, Adira’s heart got entangled. When a misunderstanding leads to disaster, the two men have to work fast so they don’t lose the woman they’ve fallen for.

 

 

Dedication

For everyone who has enjoyed the Death Riders stories. This one may not have a paranormal twist, but I hope you like it anyway.

 

Teaser

As he cleaned up the interview table the door opened and a young woman entered, hovering in the doorway. Long blonde hair cascaded down her back. Big blue eyes looked around, wide-eyed and innocent. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, and had no make-up on her face. And she didn’t need it because she was fucking gorgeous. His dick also noticed, very interested in what she was doing here.

          “Can I help you?” he asked.

          “I…um, well, I was here to apply for the job.”

Her voice was soft. Melodic. He bet she’d scream beautifully with pleasure, and he wanted to be the one who gave it to her. Wanted her to cry out his name when she came. She looked like a fucking angel with a body made to sin. Narrow waist, long legs. Tits more than a handful. He really wanted to get her naked and under him.

          “Certainly,” he said, smiling. Hoping to relax her. “I’m Ares. I own The Pussy Willow.”

She gave a self-conscious wave. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adira. Am I too late for an interview?”

          He shook his head. “Not at all. How did you hear about the job?”

Her fair complexion flushed red. He didn’t remember ever seeing a woman blush before and it fascinated him.

          “I was in a coffee shop and I eavesdropped on two women talking.”

          That amused him. “All right.”

He strode closer, and the scent of warm spice hit him, making his mouth water, and he realized it was her. He licked his lips, wondering if she tasted like sugar, spice and everything nice. “Do you have any experience being a hostess?”

Disappointment dulled her eyes. “No. I don’t have a lot of work experience. I-I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

She turned to leave and he hurried to push the door closed, preventing her from disappearing. By doing that, however, brought him flush against her body, her back to his chest. The contact had his heart galloping and his cock going rock hard in an instant.

“Don’t go,” he murmured softly. A little tremor rolled through her body and he hoped to fucking God it was because she felt what he was feeling. “I don’t care if you don’t know how to greet customers. I can teach you everything you need to know.”


About the Author

I write about the very ordinary woman thrust into an extraordinary circumstance, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate high rollers.  I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I strive to create characters who are complex and full of flaws. Heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

 

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Wednesday, July 24, 2024

PROMO: Goblin Girl

 

 

Empire of the Sky, Book 4


Steampunk Romance

Date Published: 7/26/24

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

 

Nancy Lea is the Lunarian envoy to Queen Victoria. She and Jacob McCleary come to Earth with a deadly warning from Mon Ilson, the Emperor of Space. At an isolated airfield in the midst of a raging storm, Nancy is cruelly mistaken for the murderous Lady Neva Talbot-Rhys. Nancy is interrogated by the Queen's Agent, the witch Felicity Cressy. To keep her off guard, Felicity employs an unorthodox strategy. She introduces the dashing Captain Jaimee Dalgliesh to the alien in human form. His mission is to seduce Nancy, but can he avoid being seduced in turn?

Goblin Girl continues the Cressida Troy saga in which an unprepared world faces alien invasion. In a time where airships are commonplace, and witchcraft plays a crucial role in Queen Victoria's empire, Goblin Girl is a steamy adventure in the strange but curiously familiar universe of what could have been.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

 

Nancy Lea

1867 A Goblin Girl Goes to Earth

 

It was a rough descent. Inside the capsule, Jacob and I were pressed together in the contoured couch, hip to hip, and shoulder to shoulder. The belts that held me securely in place as we were jostled about bit through my one-piece flying costume and would surely leave bruises. We were riding a human test vehicle which we had captured some time ago. Jacob had been the pilot and had been our prisoner until he reluctantly agreed to be Mon Ilson’s envoy. I was to carry my emperor’s voice to the queen.

Jacob was wearing a leather flying cap and green filtered goggles and looked quite amphibian as his gaze shifted from side to side. He was closely monitoring the gauges and dials on the control panel and manipulated the various levers that controlled the ship’s buoyancy. Occasionally he would glance at me, and the visible part of his face split in a broad grin. He was excited to be returning home.

By Mon Ilson’s magic, the churning storm camouflaged our arrival. Barely two minutes before, we’d been released by the Lunarian airship and were descending at a rapid rate toward the Lizard Peninsula on the Cornish coast. Our ship, little more than a spherical steel ball barely ten feet wide, bucked and swayed at the mercy of the tempest. I bit my lower lip, imagining the gale that raged on the other side of the vessel’s thin shell, just a few inches from my head.

Jacob was adjusting the controls to release helium gas from our envelope so that we landed as close as we could to the designated airfield. Timing was of the essence if we were not to be blown too far off course. A violent wind gust rocked us, and I clutched Jacob’s arm.

“Chin up, Goblin Girl. We’ll be on solid ground soon.”

The appellation took me back to the first occasion he called me by that vile name. At the time I knew he’d intended it as an insult. We’d been “fucking like ferrets” as he described our frequent coupling, and I was panting frantically in the aftermath of a thundering climax.

“Why do you call me that?” I had asked resentfully once my breathing had calmed.

“Goblin Girl?” His smile as he chucked my chin was annoyingly patronising. “My dear,” he began, his tone mocking. “I know inside that pretty little human head is a leather-skinned goblin, like those stone gargoyles perched high up on a cathedral wall. You have huge yellow eyes, slimy slits for nostrils cut in a grey face as flat as an anvil. Rows of pin-sharp teeth hide behind knife-edged lips. You have bony shoulders, and muscled arms like knotted wood, so powerful you could snap a human neck. Not to forget the pair of oily black wings like those of a demonic bat, equipped with a half dozen razor-tipped talons, and ugly gnarled feet! For God’s sake, don’t get me started on your feet!”

I would be lying to pretend it hadn’t hurt, but his description of our -- yes, my -- natural form was accurate. What cut deeper was that he’d use those words to hurt me while his pearly seed dripped from my very bruised and unmistakably human cunt. I had given him the most hateful of glares and stuck out my tongue.

He laughed. “That’s the spirit! On occasion you act so human. Sometimes I quite forget.”

“I don’t want you to forget.”

“Why do you say so?”

“I want you to love me for myself, my soul, not my outward form whatever it takes.”

“Huh! Beauty is only skin deep as they say. Is that what you mean? Are you sure you want to go down that thorny trail?”

My feelings were hurt, still an odd sensation, and I didn’t yet know when to stop. “Perhaps.”

Jacob knitted his brow. “Why on Earth do you want me to love you? Don’t answer that. I know you are just following orders and will say anything to get inside my head.” His expression had changed, from mild curiosity to utter contempt.

“I wonder you can bring yourself to lie with me if that is what you believe.”

Jacob shrugged. “A man has urges. I can’t control the call, the quickening of the blood, or deny the demanding reality of my hard cock. That body you have stolen, killed for, I should say, would get a rise out of any man -- alive or dead! Your human covering is just an empty vessel, somewhere to dump my seed.” He glared at me, his eyes as hard as flint, and I saw the hatred behind them. Then they softened. “Ah, don’t do that.”

He wiped the tear away with his thumb. The gentle action broke the dam, and there followed a flood.

“Ah, my Goblin Girl… come here!” He held me close, his heart thudding in his chest, his warm breath upon my cheek. “I’m a beast too. There’s no denying it.”

Later, after he’d ploughed my furrow once again and jetted more seed into my human cunt, he held me tight. “Why?” he asked after a few moments.

“Why what?”

His gaze took in my quivering form. “All this. Why did you give up your natural body for this human one? Marjorie was so in love with hers she’d do anything to get it back, even murder and treason. Why are you lot not attached to your form?”

He was referring to Marjorie, a nascent witch whose body had been taken from its grave and later adopted. Her soul found sanctuary in Cressida Troy’s mind until Mon Ilson enabled her to return to her body for helping Cressida kill the human scientist, Fleur Cumberland. Now Marjorie was our most powerful agent on Earth.

Jacob had thumped his naked chest. “My attachment to this weak and breakable frame was so strong it allowed me to survive after my soul had been wrenched away.” He took my chin between thumb and forefinger. “You chose to do this,” he continued, forcing me to justify myself. “Why?”

Why indeed? “I do not regret it.”

“I’ve noticed, and that’s what I don’t understand. Have you all been mesmerised by Mon Ilson to deny your love of your natural form?”

“I have not!”

“Then why? I want to understand. It’s no small thing to give up your body, no matter how grotesque it is.”

“We do not see ourselves so,” I countered.

His brow furrowed with incomprehension. “Then why? You could fly, for God’s sake!”

“It is hard to express. It is too easy to say, as many will, I did it because Mon Ilson commanded it. Those words are just a public display of loyalty. As wonderful achievements as our cities are, the selfish reason is we are heartily sick of existing underground. We want to live under a wide blue sky rather than a roof of stone, feel fragrant wind on our cheeks rather than a sterile breeze from a fan, to bask in the summer sun and have our faces tanned, impossible under cold artificial light. We want to swim in the ocean and feel mud squish between our toes. We want to make love, to feel a kiss and take pleasure in it, to quiver with a soft caress, and be overwhelmed by the glorious sensations of making love.”

 


About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

 

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Tuesday, July 23, 2024

PROMO: Wrinkled Rebels

 

Literary Novel / Historical Fiction

Date Published: 07-23-2024

Publisher: Vine Leaves Press


 

Now 80 years old, retirement and advanced age have dissipated the spirit of six college radicals of the 1960s, who jointly had participated in civil rights campaigns and anti-war protests. Having engaged in only periodic communication over the decades, they suddenly receive an invitation to reunite for an extended weekend. Struggling with whether to go, each of them has divergent qualms and expectations for the proposed gathering.

During their three days together, they confront their inner demons, each other, and their future. Does Rebecca, the prime mover of the event, find solace after losing her wife and career? Can Malaika regain her sense of self after stepping down from her successful law practice? Mourning the loss of her youthful athletic prowess and attractiveness, what happens when Deanna faces her old friends?

Struggling with two divorces and a failing marriage, can Russell attain peace of mind? How will Max, an expat living in Canada, manage with his incipient dementia? Will the demoralized Keith recover his idealism?

Wrinkled Rebels is a story of how six people achieve meaningful lives through the struggle for social justice. It is also a tale of love, the bonds of friendship, and growing old positively.


About the Author

Laura Katz Olson, AGF Distinguished Professor of Political Science, has taught at Lehigh University since 1974. To date, she has published nine nonfiction books, focusing on aging and healthcare. Her latest, Ethically Challenged: Private Equity Storms U.S. Health Care has been awarded several gold medals, including from the Independent Book Publishers Association (IBPA) and the Benjamin Franklin Awards. Elder Care Journey: A View from the Front Lines, which relates her personal experiences as a caregiver for her mother, won a Gold Medal in the Ninth Annual Living Now Book Awards. Wrinkled Rebels is her second novel.

 

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PROMO: The Ark of Ukraine

 

 


Bringing the Kingdom to a War-Torn Country

 

Memoir

Date Published: 08-06-2024

Publisher: King's Glory Publishing House


 

He was told to renounce his belief in God or face certain death. He chose God. In this powerful story we follow the lives of two Ukrainian natives-Peter and Irina Tkachuk, who went against the cultural norm of their country and chose to follow God. Through uncertainty and an authoritative rule, they chose radical obedience. The Tkachuks took the charge to share the Kingdom with those around them from school age children to wounded soldiers. The Ark of Ukraine is more than a missionary’s memoir. The moving testimonials and resilient faith exhibited by the people in these pages is captivating and moving. The work they did and the lives they touched are nothing short of a miracle. This book will ignite your faith and inspire you to do your part in sharing the light and life of the Kingdom. Grab your copy of The Ark of Ukraine today.


About the Author

Lura Hunter is an author, missionary, and heart healer. She holds a master's in counseling and special education. Lura has a passion for the lost. Her desire is not just to see them saved but to make disciples as the Great Commission commands. Lura has traveled to nine different countries: Brazil, Ghana, China, El Salvador, Ukraine, Cameroon, Papa New Guinea, Uruguay, and Indonesia. With each country she met new people and experienced God’s heart in a new way.

When she is not on the mission field abroad, Lura takes on the role of healer for many. With over ten years of experience under her belt, Lura helps people break out the things like generational curses, guilt, shame, pain, and anxiety. She helps them step into spiritual freedom through Sozo and Prophetic Heart Healing. 


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Monday, July 22, 2024

PROMO: Mama & Pops

 

 

Bones MC Legends, Book One

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: 7/26/24

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

Somerset, Kentucky. My home. Or it was. Coming back from Nam was a friggin’ shock. No one wanted us there, but no one really wants us back here, either. In their eyes, we’re all guilty. Guess I feel the same way about them. I don’t belong anywhere. Maybe I never really did.

Except with Mama. For me, meeting Mama was like a dime novel. Fell for her almost the moment I laid eyes on her. Knew she’d be mine after our first kiss. Of course, convincing her took a little time. But it’s because of Mama I have a home and people I care about now. I may be a badass soldier, but she’s the hardest, coldest warrior I ever met. Yet she has more compassion in her than any ten people I know.

This is the story of how Bones MC was born, and why Mama and me keep to the shadows. Since we met, we’ve always had each other’s backs. No one knows all our secrets, not even those closest to us. Other people have come and gone in our lives, but it’s always been me and Mama. This is our story.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland

 

Sgt. Michael (Mike) Wilbanks

Louisville, Kentucky, 1968

 

“This right here is some happy horseshit.”

I glanced at the woman beside me who spoke in a low, wistful tone. She’d been on the same plane as I had coming from San Francisco. Though the bag she carried had an Army medical insignia, she’d dressed in street clothes. There was a hard look about her that I’d seen many times during my tours in Vietnam. We hadn’t spoken during the flight, but she was hard not to notice.

She looked to be in her mid to late twenties, carrying herself with the confidence of a warrior. My eye had been drawn her way automatically from the moment she’d stepped on the plane. I’d pegged her as the most dangerous person on the plane -- other than myself. Looking at her now, I was reevaluating that notion. The woman might be even more dangerous than I was.

“One’d think those people had jobs to go to.” I wasn’t sure if that was the “happy horseshit” she was referring to, but I chose to make it about the protesters. I’d encountered groups like this in every fucking airport I’d stopped in on my way back. To say I was spoiling for a fight was the understatement of the fucking century.

“One would think.” The woman didn’t look my way or seem interested in conversation. Instead, she was scanning the crowd. Not like she was looking for someone in particular, though. I’d seen that look many times. She was looking for a threat. VC on the trail!

I shook my head, shaking away the memory. The war wasn’t over yet, but it was for me. “You expecting trouble?” Her vigilance -- and my own demons -- had my radar pinging.

“Always.”

I had travel plans, but there was something about the woman that made me walk beside her through the Louisville terminal instead of making my way to my own gate. She was tall, maybe five-ten, with shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair. She wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off lean, muscular arms. Everything about her screamed confidence, strength, and control. I’d met a few Army nurses who had similar looks about them, but this woman was different. She carried herself with purpose, her duffle slung over her shoulder like my own. Like she was on a mission and no one was going to stop her, even if she had to kill to get them out of her way. She didn’t speak again or acknowledge me, but she didn’t tell me to back off, either.

The terminal wasn’t particularly crowded, though there might have been a hundred people in the area. All I wanted to do was secure the bike I’d procured the second I’d gotten back to the States and fucking ride. I’d been offered a chance to join an MC called Iron Tzars, but I wasn’t sure they were really my thing. Their causes were noble and any killing they did wasn’t indiscriminate, but I’d had my fill of death in country. Even for those who needed killing.

Boom!

A shot rang out and all around us people screamed, ducking for cover.

Boom!

A nearby window shattered as the round hit, sending glass shattering to the floor and the concrete outside. I scanned the crowd for the shooter before glancing where I knew the woman had stood. Same as me, she was looking around for the shooter. I saw the exact moment she spotted him. Her features hardened and she looked angry as fuck as she squatted next to me, behind the nearby counter. “Fucker’s military.”

“Can’t say I blame him given the reception we got when we landed. Wouldn’t be my first choice of things to do, though.”

Her gaze went to mine. “You any good in a fight?”

I shrugged. “Good as any, I guess. Ain’t armed.”

She shook her head. “Me neither.”

“Got a plan?” If she didn’t, I’d come up with one, but this woman looked like she’d been expecting trouble and knew how to deal with it. If she knew the soldier in question or had known this was going to happen, she’d have a plan. I’d follow her lead until she proved she didn’t know what she was doing. One thing I’d learned in Nam was that often it wasn’t the most educated man or the highest-ranking officer who could get you out alive.

“He’s not aiming at anyone in particular. I’ll talk to him. See if I can get him to surrender peacefully. You position yourself behind him and be ready.” She gave me a pointed look. “I’ll be counting on you to take him down before he shoots me.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Maybe I better try to talk to him.”

She gave me an exasperated huff. “Do you honestly think I can take him down myself? I’m strong, but he’s easily twice my size.”

“You ain’t makin’ this easy, woman.”

“What’s so fuckin’ difficult about it?”

Her scowl was hard enough to trigger my well-trained instincts. I wanted to snap a salute and bark out, Yes, sir!

“Be ready. Take him down if he looks like he’s gonna shoot me or anyone else.” She tilted her head, giving me a puzzled stare. “You ain’t got battle fatigue, do you? You don’t act like you’ve had all you can take.”

“No. I’m good.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Just don’t like puttin’ a woman out front to use as bait. I should be the one takin’ the risks.”

“Well, I mean, if you want to risk your life when he’ll probably be able to shake me off the second I go for him, fine by me. But I trust you in that regard more than you should trust me. The odds of you gettin’ killed are way higher than me.”

I stared at her until another boom went off followed almost immediately by another window shattering. “You’re gonna give me all kinds of fuckin’ trouble, ain’t you?”

She grinned. “Trouble’s my middle name. Get in position. I’ll wait until you’re behind him.” She pointed at the barrier next to the stairs and I saw where she meant.

“Yeah, that’s where I thought I’d wait. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

We stared at each other hard for a moment before she spoke. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“Sergeant Michael Wilbanks. At least, that was my rank when I was discharged.”

“Honorable?” She raised an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at my Army issue fatigues. “Of course. Still wearin’ the uniform, ain’t I? Re-upped after my initial tour. Not this time, though. Had enough of the killin’.”

She nodded. “Dr. Josephine Peyton, Captain, US Army. Or I was. You can call me Jo. I got a four-six-one discharge for ‘inadequate personality’ ‘cause I told a general touring our field hospital to suck my dick when he said the men in my ward were sacrificed for the greater good, then couldn’t tell me what the fucking greater good was.”

I couldn’t contain my bark of laughter. “Promise me, when this is over, you’ll let me take you out on a date.”

Josephine smirked. “Well, I guess that depends on whether you’re able to take this guy down or not. I won’t go out with a pussy.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

She shrugged. “If it gets this guy to stop shootin’ the place up, take it however you like.”

Another boom broke the moment. People screamed all around us, but the only person I saw was Jo and her pale blue eyes. Before I could think too much about it, I leaned in and wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a hard kiss.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

 

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Sunday, July 21, 2024

PROMO: Simple Rich People

 

 

Self-Help Personal Finance

Date Published: 4/3/24

Publisher: Mindstir Media


 

Have you ever wondered how people become rich? They keep it simple!

Business dealmaking veteran Shekhar Chopra dispenses wealth wisdom for dreamers, thinkers, renegades, mavericks, and do-gooders in this indispensable roadmap to building financial success and personal well-being.

Simple Rich People explores fundamental principles and practical scenarios to build wealth and leverage money as an effective resource to live a fulfilling life. It's time to simplify becoming wealthy and feeling wealthy.

Are you ready to feel rich? It's simple...once you know how!

 

About the Author

I have twenty plus years of experience in procurement and business negotiations at Fortune 500 companies including Deloitte Consulting, Yahoo, eBay, Kaiser Permanente, Splunk, and Novellus. I have built wealth from ground zero with discipline, courage, and experimentation. I did not create a new software, invent a new drug, or sell investments in Wall Street. Simple Rich People shares the methodology, and frameworks on how this was accomplished, and to guide others in their journey.

I am devoted to elevating financial literacy in our communities and help people of all backgrounds to live richer, simpler lives, and improve quality of life outcomes. The potential to expand financial literacy for readers of all socio-economic backgrounds, and generate self-belief and self-reliance is the mana.

 

Contact Link

Website

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N


RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday, July 19, 2024

Blog Tour: What Once Was Promised

 


 

Coming of Age Fiction

Date Published: May 6, 2024

Publisher: MindStir Media


 

He came for a better life, but it didn't turn out to be an easy one.

Sixteen-year-old Domenic Bassini sets out alone for America from his small village in Italy in 1914. He falls in love during a brief onboard affair with the beautiful Francesca, the wife of a man with Sicilian Mafia connections. But he loses her and arrives in Boston instead with an orphan stowaway named Ernesto Lentini in tow.

Domenic and Ernesto stay at the home of old family friends in Boston's Italian North End neighborhood, sharing a room with their son, Joe. Domenic becomes like a big brother to Joe and Ernesto, who become inseparable friends.

As the years and decades pass, youthful rivalries and fateful decisions lead to unpredictable and sometimes unsavory outcomes. Between moments of joy and great tragedy, the three friends' lives take very divergent paths amidst the turbulence of factions vying for power in the early 20th century Boston where the lines between politics, crime and policing are blurred.

But after all that has kept them apart, can Domenic, Ernesto, Joe and even Francesca, come together to settle the score with those who have spent a lifetime fighting against them?



About the Author

LOUIS TRUBIANO spent over forty years in the advertising industry, most of it as president of his own firm. Born and raised in Quincy, Massachusetts, he earned his bachelor’s degree from The University of Rochester and a master’s degree from Boston University’s College of Communication. He and his wife live in Canton, Massachusetts and have three daughters, six grandchildren, and one spoiled dog.

 

Contact Link

Website

 

Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, July 18, 2024

Blog Tour: The Super Organism

 



Sentinel of Addiction


Sci-Fi

Date Published: January 8, 2021


 

Individual characters in a distant future, offer us a series of memoirs emerging as an all-powerful extraterrestrial life form discovers that it has been imprisoned by God in human form as part of a supernatural rehabilitation program.

 



About the Author

 M. Makhijani is a novelist; he specializes in the genres of science fiction and cross-genre. He grew up in Lagos, Nigeria, and has a degree in Psychology and Political Science, with a minor in Eastern and Western philosophy. He also holds a Diploma in Graphic Design and Illustration from the prestigious UHI Millennium Institute in the United Kingdom.

For Makhijani, his readers will always come first. A perfectionist by nature, he obsesses over the tiniest of details, employing a style of narration that combines a uniquely vivid imagination with intellect and originality. He develops a narrative that immerses his readers in a very absorbing and entertaining reading experience.

Makhijani’s hobbies include working out at the gym, Pilates, reading, watching documentaries and popular science fiction shows on Netflix. He also holds a First Dan Black Belt in Shotokan Karate, and for a time, trained as a mixed martial arts fighter at the world renowned Griphouse gym in Glasgow.

He speaks nine languages, out of which Spanish and Italian are his favorite. He never stops learning and aspires to become completely fluent in them someday.

 

Contact Links

X @Makhijani_speak

Facebook: @m.makhijani.novels

 

Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR