Book Tour (Excerpt) – The Low Road by Jo A. Hiestand.

 

The McLaren Mysteries


British mystery

Date Published: Sept 19, 2022


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Former police detective Michael McLaren arrives in Scotland, ready to immerse himself in the fun of the Highland Games and to enjoy a holiday with Melanie. But the old saying of plans oft going awry rears its ugly head: Simon Shaw, a member of McLaren’s folk group, dies. Murdered a year to the day following his uncle’s death.

McLaren is determined to find out who killed Simon. Needing justice for his friend is only half of his incentive. He also needs to appease his guilt for suggesting the group sing there in the first place.

As McLaren becomes immersed in the investigation, he wonders if the two deaths are linked, or have to do with the family or their clan. Perhaps Simon’s former wife killed him, bent on revenge more powerful than mere divorce. Or was the killing tied to an old hunt for diamonds? After all, diamonds aren’t only a girl’s best friend. Sometimes they birth greed and murder. And entrap the innocent.

 


The Low Road excerpt:

“Mike, would you do me a favor?”

“If I can, of course. What?”

“Take the day off.”

“The day off?

Melanie poured some milk into her tea and stirred it. The spoon made soft clinking sounds as it tapped against the china. “We could walk up the hill in Balquhidder, the one that’s associated with your clan. I’d love to see that. Or we could go into Callander, if you’d rather play the tourist. It’s also drowning in history. Or,” she added, her voice growing excited, “we could drive up to the Holy Pool. I’d very much like to see that. Maybe take a sack lunch and then drive north to Glencoe.” She hesitated, looking as if she shouldn’t have made the suggestions.

“I’d love to do those things with you.”

She smiled, grabbing his hand.

“But just not now. We’ll do our sightseeing when I’ve nabbed my friend’s killer.”

Melanie withdrew her hand, her smile fading. Nodding, she shifted her gaze and concentrated on her meal.

“I’ll be back today for tea. We can talk then. We’ll map out what we want to do…afterwards.” He cleared his throat, sensing things weren’t going too well between them. “After breakfast, you can think of things for us to do, and we’ll spend the evening together.”

She picked up her fork.

“I’m sorry, Melanie. I didn’t plan on our time up here to be like this. When I suggested coming to the Games I thought we would be spending the entire week together. I thought we would have a dinner with Nick, Colin and Simon, maybe drive over to Loch Lomond or up to Loch Ness, perhaps take in a concert or art exhibit in Stirling…” His voice broke off as she attacked the fish and hacked it into chunks. “Give me another day or two. I should be finished in two days…tops. Then we’ll do whatever you would like. A drive up the Great Glen road or take a boat to the Hebrides. You’ll love the islands.” He eyed her. She still didn’t look at him. “Please understand, De¾” He paused, catching himself in time. He had nearly called her Dear Heart. He took a breath, finishing with, “Please understand. I urged Simon to come here. I wish to hell I hadn’t, that I hadn’t accepted the performance invitation in the first place, but I did. And look what happened.”

She laid down the utensils and looked at him. “Mike¾”

“I know the police are working on it but that’s not enough for me. It’s too slow. The nerk might get away.” He wadded up the table napkin, his fingers practically strangling it. “It’s my fault he came. If he’d stayed home…” He took a breath, a vein in his neck throbbing. “I’m responsible for his death. I have to solve this, to avenge his passing.” His voice had risen, emphasizing his need and emotions. “Please don’t be cross. I… I couldn’t stand it if you were angry with me.”

She looked up, giving him a faint smile. “I’m not cross, Mike. I’m just…disappointed. Mainly in myself. I do this all the time. I envision something in the future, have myself convinced whatever it is will be exactly as I assume it will be, and then I’m frustrated and let down that it hasn’t turned out like my vision. It’s no one’s problem but mine. I shouldn’t do this, but I do. It’s as natural as breathing to me.” She slid her hand around his neck and pulled him close to her so that their faces were just inches apart. “We’ll have years yet of playing tourists together. I understand you need to find Simon’s killer. You won’t be fit to live with until you’ve caught him.” 

“I’m sorry, Melanie. It’s the way I am. I can’t change. If I see someone in trouble, some injustice¾”

“I know. That’s one of the things I like about you. Now.” She touched his cheek. “Go on.”

He laid his fingers beneath her chin, tilted her face up, and kissed her on the forehead. He grabbed his leather jacket and left without looking back.

Fighting back the tears, she laid down her napkin and ran up the stairs to her room.

 


About the Author

Jo A. Hiestand grew up on regular doses of music, books, and Girl Scout camping. She gravitated toward writing in her post-high school years and finally did something sensible about it, graduating from Webster University with a BA degree in English and departmental honors. She writes a British mystery series (the McLaren Mysteries)—of which three books have garnered the prestigious N.N. Light’s Book Heaven ‘Best Mystery Novel’ three years straight. She also writes a Missouri-based cozy mystery series (The Cookies & Kilts Mysteries, of which “A Trifling Murder” is the second book) that is grounded in places associated with her camping haunts. The camping is a thing of the past, for the most part, but the music stayed with her in the form of playing guitar and harpsichord, and singing in a folk group. Jo carves jack o’ lanterns badly and sings loudly. She loves barbecue sauce and ice cream (separately, not together), kilts (especially if men wear them), clouds and stormy skies, and the music of G.F. Handel. You can usually find her pulling mystery plots out of scenery—whether from photographs or the real thing.

 

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Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway – beautiful Lies by Paula Dombrowiak.

Beautiful Lies
Paula Dombrowiak
Publication date: April 17th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I own the boardroom. He owns the stage. We were never meant to be together, but when something’s forbidden, it only makes you want it more.

My jaded heart was determined never to be fooled again. There’s too much at stake, and my daughter always comes first.

And then one night, on the eve of my forty-third birthday, I walked into a bar, and locked eyes with Adrian Corvin.

He’s a musician, covered in tattoos… and way too young. He’s the opposite of everything I should want.

When he followed me outside of the bar, not even the Arizona monsoon could keep me from kissing him.

With just one taste, I was an addict.

It was only supposed to be one night.

No names, no expectations, and no truths.

Only lies.

And he tells beautiful lies.

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EXCERPT:

Maybe it’s the beer or the stifling heat, but his eyes seem to follow as I make my way around the room. Caught staring back, it’s as if he sees my thoughts when the corner of his lip tugs into a knowing smile. It’s impossible for him to know that I’m imagining what kind of lover he would be – selfish or generous, relentless or fleeting, but his smile says otherwise. That smile could knock a girl right out of her panties. Maybe for one night I can be someone else, and that makes the prospects endless.

Slipping between the crowd, I find myself on the street. A gust of wind travels down the long strip mall. Everything is dark, all the other stores closed for the night. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and smell the rain.

It’s coming.

The city hibernates all year waiting for the rain to penetrate the hard-shelled soil, breaking it open, and once it does, everything comes to life.

A lightning bolt stretches across the sky just as the wind picks up, blowing the hair from my neck and cooling it. I start to walk down the block on the way back to my car, passing a darkened record store when I hear a voice call out behind me. “Hey.”

Without even turning around, I know it’s him, the singer with the velvet voice and the kissable lips. The wind continues to blow like a freight train down the block, picking up the edges of my shirt and blowing my hair across my face. Turning around, I see he’s standing on the sidewalk, looking every bit as delicious as he did on stage. Waiting for him to look around me, to the person whose attention he was really trying to get, but he just stares at me the same way he did in the bar, like he’s trying to unearth my secrets.

Caught in the spider’s web of his soulful eyes, I’m unable to move.

The silence is broken when the sky opens and dumps heavy sheets of rain, plastering my hair to my face and my shirt against my body in less than a minute. Moving towards me, with each step closing the distance between us, the bashful smile on his face causes my pulse to quicken, and the blood rushing in my ears becomes the only sound I can hear. When he reaches me, I can see the pulse in his neck as his hand grips my waist, guiding me into the alcove of the darkened record store, taking us out of the rain. With his hand still on my waist, the heat from it makes me shiver.

His close proximity takes the breath out of me, and I watch as the water drips from his hair onto his full lips, leaving a trail down his chin. In the dim light of the alcove with only the streetlamp to illuminate his face, I see the green flecks in his brown eyes as he searches mine. They pull me in like a magnet; intense and beautiful. My palms press against his chest slowly gathering his shirt between my fingers, all while my heart pounds in my chest because this stranger drew me in the minute I laid eyes on him in the bar. It’s as if he is a tiny piece of my past buried long ago now being unearthed.

Maybe it’s the wind, the way it wraps itself around us, pushing us together rather than pulling us apart, I feel as though this is a chance I need to take. How many times in the last eighteen years had I truly taken something just for myself? And how many more times in my lifetime will I get a chance to choose something for myself?

In the small space between us, a question lingers in the air.

Can I kiss you?

Wanting it and doing it are two different things, because once I cross that line, will I be taking a step backwards? Looking at his beautiful rain-soaked face, I know the answer.


Author Bio:

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

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Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway – Grand Gestures by Lynne Hancock Pearson.

Grand Gestures
Lynne Hancock Pearson
Publication date: April 15th 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

She will grit her teeth and smile at the snobby and suspicious CFO if it means landing the contract. But she won’t put on a dress and definitely not heels.

Event planner Jane Beckett has big dreams for her small company and is bending over backward to accommodate demanding clients. Jane doesn’t have to like them. She doesn’t have to spend her free time with them. But she wants to tease the grumpy pencil-pushing executive who always seems to be in her way, muss up his hair and show him that there’s more to life than boardrooms and bottom lines. That is, when she doesn’t want to yell at him. Or punch him.

Liam Cross believes every woman has a hidden agenda, one that involves taking advantage of big hearted, clueless billionaires like his best friend and co-worker. He’s watching Jane and her sister to ensure that party-planning is all that’s going on. Even though she manages to steal his assistant, he likes what he sees in the smart-mouthed brunette, admires her stubborn independence, and wants to help her fledgling firm succeed despite his misapprehensions.

Paintballs, punches, and sparks fly when inflated egos and miscommunication threaten relationships between friends, family, and partners.

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EXCERPT:

With whiskey warming his belly and muddling his mind, signing up for a paintball session seemed like a great idea, in the light of day and with a pounding headache, not so much. He intended to argue his way out of the non-refundable fee he’d paid in his drunken state. Settling his sunglasses firmly over his eyes, Liam hauled his sorry ass out of the car. His back hurt, his head hurt, and his hands hurt.

Fingering a fresh blister on the palm of his hand, he cursed himself for not wearing gloves at the batting cage the night before. He’d gone directly from the office to the sports field in Magnuson Park. For two hours, he’d slugged away at balls. Personal day. Liam had never taken a personal day. Other than dental and medical checkups, he never took a day off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything fun without Chuck. He’d whacked the ball time and time again, thinking about his best friend potentially getting his heart stomped on. Again. Worn out from swinging the bat, he’d stopped for booze and takeout, then headed home to stalk Jane Beckett online.

Bullseye Paintball was located in an old salvage yard off Aurora. Whooping with glee, kids erupted out of SUVs and mini vans in the parking lot. Wincing at the noise, Liam made his way to the office and pulled open the heavy door.

“What are you doing here?”

Shit!

Wearing black cargo pants tucked into combat boots and a black hooded sweatshirt, Jane Beckett lounged against the registration desk. She flicked her bangs out of her eyes with a toss of her head and smirked at him. “You’re not playing, are you?”

Her dismissive tone rubbed against his raw nerves. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

Sipping from a travel mug, Jane’s gaze roamed up and down his body, taking in his khaki shorts, fresh white collared shirt, and sneakers. Her lips twitched. “Oh, no reason at all.”

The door opened, and the small office filled with kids, backing Liam into a corner and saving him from having to reply. Jane shifted her attention to the kids and raised her arms in the air.

“Who’s ready to have fun?” she yelled.

“Yay!” the kids replied at the top of their lungs.

“Who’s ready to get dirty?”

They yelled louder.

“Who’s ready to plant a garden?”

The kids looked confused.

“I’m just messing with you!” Jane grinned and opened the door to the playing field. “Head out and find Jason. He’s going to fit you with safety equipment and guns.”

The kids stampeded out, leaving two dads dressed in camo-chic, looking both excited and nervous. One of whom wore an air cast on one leg. “Oh dear,” Jane said, “you’re not going to be able to play with that.”

The man in the cast replied, “Stan and I discussed strategy. I figured I’d prop myself up in a corner and shoot from behind cover.”

“Yeah,” Stan said. “You and I can run and juke, draw their fire, and Carl can pick them off. He can as well.” He looked toward Liam. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. Whose dad are you?”

Three pairs of inquisitive eyes turned toward him. “Nobody’s. I’m not part of the party.” He felt like a fool. How the hell to get out of this while saving face?

“Liam’s never played before. He’s here to scout the place for a team-building event for his company.”

Carl and Stan nodded at Jane’s remarks. Liam shot her a quick smile of thanks.

Then she cocked one hip, crossed her arms, and threw him under the bus. “We’ve got tactical gear you can borrow for firsthand experience, Mr. Cross. How about it?”

“Yeah,” Carl said. “You’ll be able to see how much fun it is. And help us out. There’s twelve of them, and with my bum leg, they’ll make mincemeat out of us.”

Stan nudged Carl’s shoulder. “Don’t scare him.” He turned to Liam. “It won’t be that bad. The girls are experienced. We’ll tell Jessica, that’s our daughter, to tell them to go easy on you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Liam caught the grin Jane was attempting to hide behind her hand. Great. She was laughing at him. There was no way he could get out of this and still keep his man card. “I’m in.” He extended his hand to Carl but glared at Jane.

Thirty minutes later, he found himself cowering behind a stack of wooden pallets with a barrage of paintballs coming at him. What the holy hell?! This was not fun. This was terrifying. He looked back and spotted Carl wedged between empty oil drums, cackling maniacally as paintballs pinged off the metal. What was wrong with these people?

Author Bio:

Lynne Hancock Pearson writes fun, flirty, feel-good fiction set in the Pacific Northwest. Stories of people finding their way, even if it takes a while to get there.

She lives near Seattle with two and a half finicky felines and one long-suffering husband. She is a left-handed middle child who grew up in the Great White North.

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Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway – I Used To Be Fun by Melanie Summers.

I Used to be Fun
Melanie Summers
Publication date: April 14th 2023
Genres: Adult, Women’s Fiction

“Insightful, entertaining, and satisfying. A deliciously dishy look at a typical American family behind closed doors.” ~ USA Today Bestseller Whitney Dineen

“A life-affirming emotional rollercoaster. Perfect for fans of Where’d You Go, Bernadette!” ~ USA Today Bestseller Kate O’Keeffe

A richly satisfying family dramedy for any woman who has asked, “Whose life is this?”

Jessica Holloway is miserable. As mom to two ungrateful, almost-grown children and wife to one appreciative-but-needy husband, she has all-but-abandoned the extraordinary—and extraordinarily fun—woman she used to be.

She may be smiling while she volunteers at the school’s dog wash fundraiser, but inside, she’s seething. Having traded her future as a high-powered attorney for motherhood nearly two decades ago, she’s now desperate to reconnect with the woman she once was.

Pushed to her breaking point, Jessica is secretly terrified at what she might do.

Go on strike permanently?

Take the dog and run away to Mexico?

Tell her mother-in-law what she really thinks of her?

Whatever it is, it’s going to be a disaster. Because this time, Jessica will stop at nothing to get her power back – no matter the cost.

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EXCERPT:

She was bored. No, not bored. How can someone so busy be bored? It was more like disconnected—slightly separated from everything and everyone around her. She didn’t see the point of any of it, which seemed ridiculous because on paper, Jess had it all. A healthy, mostly-happy family, a part-time job she didn’t mind going to, financial security, good friends. It was enough that she felt guilty wanting anything more. But that didn’t change the fact that she did want more. She wanted to live. Some other life. One that amazed her or, more accurately, one in which she was amazing. Before she was Jessica Halloway, she was Jessica Saunders. And Jessica Saunders was supposed to be extraordinary. She was going to do something important in this world, like run a Fortune 500 company or be a high-powered attorney. She’d be out in the world making her mark and people would say, ‘There goes Jessica Saunders. Look at her. So determined and talented, not to mention dressed to kill.’ Jessica Saunders had actually settled on going to law school, and had even scored in the top five percent in the country on her LSAT. But then she got married and she and Mike decided he should focus on his career first, since he already had his degree and only needed to sit for the exams to get his Chartered Professional Accountant designation. But then Winnie came along, followed by Noah, and pretty soon, she’d forgotten all about picking up her studies where she’d left off.

That had happened so long ago, she completely forgot that she used to be thrilled by it all. Jess Saunders was one of those enthusiastic, take-life-by-the-horns sort of girls. The life of the party. She’d dance all night, she’d laugh all day. She was witty. Smart. Great at banter. People were drawn to her. She loved everything. Impromptu trip to Mexico? I’ll grab my passport. Sex? Yes, please. Plenty of it. Mountain mud pie with caramel sauce for dessert? Hand me a fork.

Jess missed her. She really, really frigging missed her. She knew that impressive young woman was buried somewhere inside her. She must be there, right? So, where was she?


Author Bio:

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

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Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway – Love on Target by Shanna Hatfield.

Love on Target
Shanna Hatfield
(Pink Pistol Sisterhood, #2)
Publication date: April 10th 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance

Will romance hit its mark when true love is the target?

Desperate for a fresh start, Rena Burke journeys from Texas to Oregon with only her father’s pistol and a plodding old mule for company. She takes a job working with explosives at a mine, spends her free time emulating her hero Annie Oakley, and secretly longs to be loved.

Saddle maker Josh Gatlin has one purpose in life and that is his daughter. Gabi is his joy and the sunshine in his days. Then he meets a trouser-wearing woman living life on her own terms. Rena is nothing like his perception of what he wants in a wife and mother for his child, but she might just prove to be everything he needs.

When tragedy strikes, will the two of them be able to release past wounds and embrace the possibilities tomorrow may bring?

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EXCERPT:

To make sure she hadn’t lost the skill, she arranged the cans on fence posts on either side of the heart she’d painted on the bark, took out her pistol, moved back several yards, and loaded rounds into the cylinder.

After widening her stance, she lined up her first shot, released a breath, and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the bullet pinging the target rang out as the can flew backward off the post. Rena shot the remaining cans, then smiled with satisfaction as she climbed over the fence to retrieve them. She set them back up on the posts, and rested for a minute on the top pole of the fence, face turned to the sunshine as she soaked up the warmth. Then she hopped down and riddled the cans full of more holes before she stowed her gun in the gun belt and draped it over a fence post. Reverently, she lifted the pistol with the delicate pink handle from where she’d set it on a stump.

“Promise of true love,” she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the handle before she loaded five shots in the revolver and took aim at the target she’d painted. “True love. What an absurd notion. Laura really should mind her own business and cease meddling in mine. If she thinks this gun will lead me to romance, she needs to have her thinker checked for defects. Instead of dreaming of true love, setting love on a target seems like a much better idea.”

She blasted five holes in the middle of the white circle she’d painted inside the heart on the slab of bark, taking a great deal of satisfaction in blasting holes into something that represented romance and love, at least in her mind.

“Now that’s some fine shooting, Miss Burke.”

Rena yelped in surprise and spun around, the pistol still in her hand, as she pointed it at the intruder who dared to interrupt her target practice.


Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes sweet romances rich with relatable characters, small town settings that feel like home, humor, and hope.

Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

When this farm girl isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller. She also experiments with recipes, snaps photos of her adorable nephew, and caters to the whims of a cranky cat named Drooley.

To learn more about Shanna or the books she writes, visit her website http://shannahatfield.com or find out more about her here: linktr.ee/ShannaHatfield

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Book Tour (with excerpt) – The Frights of Fiji by Sunayna Prasad.


Middle Grade fantasy

Date Published: 10-20-2018


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Sent to live with her strict, aloof, and uncaring uncle after her parents are killed in a car accident, twelve-year-old orphan Alyssa McCarthy longs for the life she used to have—one filled with fun and love. Then one stormy night, a message appears in the raindrops on the window that will change everything.

“Your life will never be the same again, as magic will interfere.”

Before long, Alyssa is kidnapped by Master Beau, a banished sorcerer with a mysterious connection to her who can only regain his power by weakening hers. Suddenly hurled into a world of wizardry filled with fantastical beasts and marvelous technology beyond her wildest imagination, Alyssa must defeat Master Beau if she ever wants to get home again. But Master Beau will stop at nothing, including using Alyssa’s friends, to ensure he is triumphant.

 

Excerpt 1

Raindrops splattered like ink across the kitchen windowpane. Alyssa leaned closer. She squinted to determine the shapes. . . letters they formed.

No—that couldn’t happen. Yet, a message spelled itself out as more pigmented drops fell onto the glass. Alyssa gasped at it.

Your life will never be the same again, Alyssa McCarthy, as magic will interfere.

It can’t be—magic doesn’t exist! Alyssa thought.

When she was a little kid, others had told her that magic wasn’t real, including when she’d learned the truth about the tooth fairy and Santa Claus.

Alyssa had lived here, on Orion Street, since she’d lost her parents in a car crash five years ago when she was seven. Although they had designated her godfather, Alex, as the priority guardian, she’d ended up living with her Uncle Bruce and Aunt Laura right after her mom and dad’s deaths due to various complications introduced by the State of New Jersey. But after Aunt Laura had died three years ago from an allergic reaction to berry-filled chocolate, Uncle Bruce had toughened up his attitude and rules. He even required Alyssa, and her eleven-year-old cousin, Hailey, to earn fun, which involved too much effort.

Alyssa’s stomach compressed as she considered Uncle Bruce’s reaction to the writing on the window. Ever since her Aunt Laura’s passing, he’d yelled at her for minor issues. If she told him about that message, he’d deem it a lie—an excuse to escape from this house. He’d already hidden Alex’s phone number and mailing address shortly after Aunt Laura’s demise, and Alyssa had since forgotten the information.

Footsteps sounded. The babysitter, Mrs. Hutchinson, stared at the kitchen floor and pointed in different directions.

Hailey sweated through her freckled cheeks while standing right outside.

Mrs. Hutchinson turned to Hailey. “You’re good.”

“So, can I have my break now?” Hailey asked.

“Yes. But you’ve only got ten minutes till your next chore.”

Hailey went upstairs.

Alyssa sighed. Since Uncle Bruce had hired her, Mrs. Hutchinson had approved of Hailey’s ability to do chores—but never Alyssa’s.

“Alyssa, get back to work. You’ve been staring at the rain for too long.”

“Okay.”

She turned to the window again—only to see the message gone and the rain back to its average transparency. 

“What did I say?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson.

Alyssa sighed. “Fine, I’ll finish washing the dishes.” She scrubbed them under running water and focused only on them. Stupid rules. What was Uncle Bruce thinking by asking Mrs. Hutchinson to treat us like dirt?

Mrs. Hutchinson was only in her sixties but seemed to have forgotten that it was 2010 and not 1960. Yet, it had taken Alyssa a while to realize that she wouldn’t tolerate even themildest nonsense, such as gaping at a windowpane when performing chores. 

Once she had finished washing the dishes, Alyssa put them to the side and grabbed some paper towels.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Hutchinson asked.

Alyssa stopped. “I’m just—”

“The last few times I was here, you left little bits of food on the dishes.”

“But they were stuck.”

“Let me inspect them. Also, if something is rubbery, you have to wash it again.”

“Why?”

“Because clean dishes aren’t supposed to be rubbery. And boy, did you do such a sloppy job. Look at that stain on your sweater.”

Alyssa looked down.

“That looks like chocolate.”

Alyssa blushed, and her eyebrows arched.  “Hey—it’s just water.” She covered the stain at the bottom of her sweater’s V-neck.

But Mrs. Hutchinson waved her index finger. “Don’t you ‘hey’ me, Alyssa. That’s rude. In my day, kids respected their elders. We’d never dare talk to them that way unless we didn’t mind them smacking our bottoms.”

“Things change.”

“Not when I’m here, they don’t. Now let me do my inspection.”

Great—an inspection! Alyssa crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She wanted her break now. She wished to read, rest, make lanyard designs—anything but watch Mrs. Hutchinson.

“Mrs. Hutchinson?” she asked.

“Whatever you need to say, wait till I’m done.”

Alyssa inhaled and exhaled. Mrs. Hutchinson picked up a dish, ran her finger down it, and rubbed it. She then put it down, nodded, and told Alyssa, “You’re good. Now what did you want to tell me?”

“Um . . . if I tell you, can you not give me a hard time?”

“If it’s something stupid—?”

“It’s not.” Alyssa breathed. “The raindrops turned black for no apparent reason, and formed writing on the window, and said that—”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Hutchinson crossed her arms and glared at her. 

Alyssa leaned back “No, really, it was there.” 

“There was nothing there when I came, and there’s nothing there now. So, don’t tell mestories.”

“But it’s not a story.”

“I don’t want to hear any more. Now it’s time for your next chore.”

“Aw, but I wanted my break.”

“Too bad. You’ve got to go vacuum the living room.”

Alyssa dragged her feet toward the vacuum in the corner and took it. As she cleaned, she thought about that writing and how Mrs. Hutchinson wouldn’t believe her. She couldn’t imagine anyone else accepting the windowpane’s writing, either. Mrs. Hutchinson had watched her andHailey for three years, and not once had she smiled or assisted with anything.

After cleaning the carpet, Alyssa checked for remaining specks, and when she didn’t find any, she put the vacuum away.

“Hailey, you and Alyssa need to go get the mail now!” Mrs. Hutchinson faced the staircase. 

“Coming!” cried Hailey.

Another rule Uncle Bruce had placed on Alyssa and Hailey was that they could only go outside together. He worried about people taking them, even though Alyssa would turn thirteennext month. But that rule had been placed because a few months ago, Uncle Bruce had heard about a seventeen-year-old boy who had been shot while skateboarding in his neighborhood. That had shocked Alyssa, since it had occurred there in Bursnell, New Jersey, in which many considered a safe town. She and Hailey had trouble believing that and assumed that Uncle Bruce had only stated that to restrict their control even more.

The two started to put their raincoats on until Mrs. Hutchinson said, “It’s stopped raining outside.”

“Already?” asked Alyssa.

“Yes.” Mrs. Hutchinson said and went to the bathroom. 

The girls headed toward the mailbox, and Alyssa pulled out the mail. But as they returned, mud bubbled from the ground, about halfway between the end of the driveway and the house. It piled up, resembling horse manure around a couple of feet wide and a few inches tall, and it grew as more soil emerged. 

“Alyssa, what’s going on?” Hailey asked.

“No idea.”

The dirt stopped piling up. But it still bubbled, and the bubbles spread all over the pile. They stopped popping up and down, and as they expanded, Alyssa and Hailey gasped. They kept their mouths open as the bubbles merged into a single huge bubble. Hailey and Alyssa stepped back as the now giant bubble swelled. And then . . . it popped! The explosion threw bits of exploding mud on the girls, and they shrieked. 

A glowering Mrs. Hutchinson opened the door. “What the heck have you two beendoing?! You were supposed to get the mail—not have a mud fight!”

“There was a big mud bubble, and it exploded,” said Hailey. 

“And where was it?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson

“Right there!” Alyssa pointed to where it had happened—only for the dirt to have dried.

“Complete garbage!” growled Mrs. Hutchinson. “Get inside!”

The girls returned inside, removing the mud from their hair. Alyssa could spot the mud in her straight, pale-blonde tresses, unlike Hailey, who likely needed more patience to search for globs in her elbow-length, red locks. But Alyssa’s hair fell a few inches past her hips, so cleaning out the mud would take longer, even with the shorter layers in the front.

Mrs. Hutchinson breathed. “You girls are so—”

“We saw it happen!” yelled Hailey.

“How could dirt just explode?!” Mrs. Hutchinson stomped. 

“I-I think it was magic!” exclaimed Alyssa.

“There’s no such thing as magic!” screamed Mrs. Hutchinson. “Alyssa, you’re twelve years old. You’re too old to say things like that!”

“But nothing else can make mud explode!” Alyssa said.

“Mrs. Hutchinson, we swear it did!” whined Hailey. 

“Enough!” snapped Mrs. Hutchinson. “You and Hailey—go upstairs and take showers!”

Alyssa followed Hailey with her arms crossed.

“Alyssa, can I shower first?” asked Hailey.

“Sure.”

As Hailey entered the bathroom, Alyssa walked into her room. She scratched more mud off her skinny jeans, all she’d worn ever since she’d noticed other girls wearing them. She removed the final bits off the back of her hand and stood by her bed since she wanted to keep it clean.

She thought about the writing on the window and the exploding mud. Someone wanted magic to interfere with her life. But who—and why?

There had to be some reason why no one had ever believed in sorcery—unless it’d just begun on Earth today, or recently.

Maybe the magic would only interfere if she remained in her uncle’s house. But if her godfather could arrange with his lawyer to let her move in with him as soon as possible—especially because he treated her with love and compassion—the wizardry might leave her alone. Unlike science, though, magic can do anything, meaning it could follow her wherever she went. 

The sound of the water running in the bathroom ended, which meant that Hailey had finished her shower. Now it was Alyssa’s turn.

After about five minutes of showering, she stepped out and headed back to her room, where she put on leggings and a long shirt. But she gasped as something appeared out ofnowhere on her bed. It must have come from . . . magic.

She noticed it was a folded piece of paper, which she opened and read.

Hello Alyssa McCarthy,

You must be wondering about the writing on your window, the explodingmud, and the note that appeared here. Who was responsible for them? You’llfind out.

Anonymous

How dare someone create incidents and not say their name! Without knowing their identity, Alyssa couldn’t report them. Strange and magical occurrences might happen again.

But now she had proof for Mrs. Hutchinson that the writing and exploding mud had occurred. Mrs. Hutchinson had seen her write before, and this writing looked nothing like hers. She handwrote in a half-print and half-script style. This, however, was pure print.

Alyssa jogged downstairs and carried the note. “Mrs. Hutchinson, I have something to show you.” 

“Not right now, Alyssa.” Mrs. Hutchinson left the kitchen. “You and Hailey have to go wash my car.”

“But it’s quick.”

“You can show me after you’re done washing my car.” Mrs. Hutchinson turned to Hailey, who emptied the dishwasher. “Are you almost done?”

“I think so.”

“How many dishes do you have left?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson.

“Uh . . .” Hailey looked at the top rack. “Four.”

“Okay, hurry up.” Mrs. Hutchinson turned to Alyssa. “Why don’t you go put that piece of paper away?”

“But this is what I need to show you.”

“Do I have to repeat what I said before?” 

“But—”

“Alyssa, do as you’re told.” Mrs. Hutchinson pointed to the staircase.

Alyssa grunted. This note contained so much crucial information. Only that paper itself contained evidence that those incidents had occurred.

After putting the note back in her room, Alyssa joined Hailey in the garage. The two grabbed sponges, buckets, and soap. They filled the buckets with water and went outside to scrubMrs. Hutchinson’s car.

“I wish we had another babysitter,” muttered Alyssa.

“What was on the piece of paper?” asked Hailey.

Alyssa told her. 

“Who wrote it?”

“There was no name on it. Just ‘Anonymous.’”

A girl whistling drew Alyssa’s attention away from the car. Her friends from grade school, Madison Jennings, rode her scooter on the sidewalk.

“Hi, Alyssa,” said Madison. The wind blew her long dark-brown waves across her face. She stopped at the driveway, and her hair went limp. Hailey and Alyssa ran to her. 

“I’ve missed you,” said Alyssa.

“How’ve you been?” Hailey asked.

“I just moved onto Draco Drive a few days ago.” Madison referred to a road off Orion Street.

“So, how do you like the middle school?” asked Alyssa. 

“Oh, I go to Catholic school now,” said Madison. “What about you?”

“Hailey and I are homeschooled now,” said Alyssa. “I never got to tell you.”

“That’s okay,” said Madison. “So, you guys want to come over to my house on Saturday?”

“What time?” asked Alyssa.

“I’ll ask my mom and let you know,” said Madison. “Okay, bye, guys. Nice seeing you again.” She rode back in the direction she’d come from as Hailey and Alyssa waved goodbye to her.

After washing the car, they cleaned up and walked back inside. A snore suggested to Alyssa that Mrs. Hutchinson was sleeping. But she’d never napped while babysitting.

Alyssa strode toward the living room—Mrs. Hutchinson slept on a couch. 

Hailey asked, “Why is Mrs. Hutchinson sleeping?” 

“I don’t know,” said Alyssa.

“Can you show me the note?”

Alyssa nodded and led her up the stairs. She opened her door—but gasped . . . the notethat she’d left on her bed was gone.

“Where’s the note?” asked Hailey.

“It was right there,” Alyssa pointed to the bed.

But another piece of paper appeared on the mattress. Alyssa read it.

Hello again, Alyssa,

I have put your babysitter to sleep to reveal magic to you. You’ll find out why she is sleeping later.

Anonymous

“Not again,” mumbled Alyssa. “Why won’t they say their name?” She showed the note to Hailey.

“Let’s go call my dad before anything happens,” said Hailey.

How much worse could this get? Alyssa thought as she followed Hailey down the stairs.

 

About the Author

Sunayna Prasad enjoys writing fantasy books for children, as well as cooking, creating artwork, watching online videos, and blogging.  She is passionate about modern-day life in fantasy stories, worldbuilding, and even humor. She is constantly brainstorming new ideas and using her creativity.

Sunayna has been writing stories since the age of six. Many sources that have inspired include various books and movies, all of which are fantasy.

She is lives in New York with her parents.

 

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Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway – Through the Veneer of Time by Vera Bell.

Through the Veneer of Time
Vera Bell
Publication date: April 10th 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense, Time-Travel

If not for “The Ghost”—her FBI husband’s gruesome case—Siena Forte’s life would have been perfect. But not when the D.C. serial killer is hunting women like her, and when her husband is so unsettled by this case, he refuses to discuss it. It’s a miracle her art career is thriving at all. And not only her career. When Siena lands a medieval mural commission at the National Gallery of Art, she discovers a bizarre knack for astral projecting to her past life. In a lucky strike, her visions of love and prominence in medieval Ireland are just the creative inspiration she seeks.

What Siena doesn’t know is her vivid depiction of the past exposes her to someone she has met before—the serial killer, reborn in this century just like her. But when a vicious attack from the past reverberates into the present, Siena’s life unravels in a chilling parallel. Silenced and alone, she discovers the true reason for her visions. They’re not the creative inspiration they seemed, but a harbinger of her centuries-old revenge vow, and the killer cannot be stopped until she fulfills it. But there is another person from the past with unfinished business—her husband. And another unwelcome déjà vu—their crumbling marriage, once again precipitated by the serial killer’s crime.

Does Siena have what it takes to carry out her ancient vow?

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EXCERPT:

His words were a blast that made something inside me snap. Why couldn’t I unlock my eyes from his? Unclench my knees despite an unbearable compulsion to run? I dug my fingernails into my sweaty palms to break the paralysis, drove the graphite shards into my flesh.

“Do you ever wonder what becomes of your characters?” His vacuous smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What comes after your painstaking freeze-frame? Your warrior—” He pointed his chin at the mural. “He’s cocky, but he doesn’t know what he’s riding into. Yet hours from now, he could be lying in some field, stripped of his weapons, bleeding out into the ground as the vultures peck at his baby blues.” His eyes widened. “Leaving his beautiful young widow all alone.”

His impossibly soft voice was a ringing blow in my ears. A tremor braced my throat. I drew a frantic breath against it.

“I’m sorry,” I squeezed out, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“I’m sure you do.” He chuckled. “But don’t look so stricken, Siena Forte. It’s only a painting, a fantasy. Nothing more.”

“Excuse me…” I edged past him, cold all over.

I rushed into the nearest restroom, tossed the broken graphite into the trash can, and locked myself in a stall. I hugged myself. Tight. Tighter. Gasped for air, not drawing any. My vision swam at the edges. Flickering. Fading. My heart thudded, and breath came faster in my chest, choking me.

Fragments of his words whirred around me, and I grasped my head to stop the awful cacophony. But it wouldn’t stop. The image he drew cut like a knife, piercing through something soft and vulnerable inside. Something I’d buried deep down and wished to keep that way. But he’d driven it to the surface and laid it out in the open, raw and exposed.

Someone entered the restroom, and I froze at the squeak of the adjoining stall door. But it was only a pair of black pumps through the divider gap. Heartbeat in my ears, I dropped the toilet lid and sat down.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

Worgen was a narcissistic egomaniac, pissed off at not getting his way. Certainly, he could neither read my mind nor know anything about my visions. He was messing with me. Of course, he was! Pygmalion was a mythical sculptor, whose ivory creation came to life after he’d fallen in love with her. And here I was, a female artist, painting a man. As for the widow, it wasn’t a big leap to imagine a handsome warrior leaving a young wife at home. Worgen didn’t have to know about me to understand this mental image would upset me.

I couldn’t tell how long I stayed in the restroom, but I emerged more determined than ever to continue with my project. I only needed to go outside and get some fresh air first. But Worgen was still there, talking to a visitor, and the only way out was past him.

I clenched my jaw and went toward them.


Author Bio:

Vera Bell is the author of the time-travel romance trilogy Always & Forever, set in sixteenth-century Ireland and present-day United States. Book One, “Through the Veneer of Time,” is her debut novel. Besides being a writer, she is a wife to her high-school sweetheart, a mother to two teenagers and one fur baby, a former commercial artist and boutique owner, and a member of the Historical Novel Society, Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and Romance Writers of America. Her favorite place to write is on her porch, overlooking a pond lined with river birches and magnolias. The topics she never tires of are Ireland, past lives, and love that transcends time and space.

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Book Tour & Giveaway – The Rock at the Bottom by Cynthia Hilston.


Lorna & Tristan #3

 

20th Century Historical Fiction / Romance

Date Published: 03-21-2023

 

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Stephen feels he is marked from day one to lose the ones he loves. His mother dies giving birth to him, and his alcoholic father makes sure Stephen never forgets it. To block out his father’s hate, fists, and belt, young Stephen loses himself in his imagination. Stories become his closest companions and barricades against a family that never wanted him. Once he can look his father in the eye, Stephen swears he will never be the monster his old man is. He vows he will become a published author, if for no other reason than to prove his father wrong.

While his dreams of being a bestselling novelist and falling in love come true, Stephen has much to prove to himself before he can write his own happy ending. Set against the backdrop of Prohibition-era Cleveland, Stephen fights the same alcoholic demons that plagued his father as he tries to begin a life free from his family. He meets equally headstrong Julie and is smitten, but their marriage is as fractured as his career is solid. He can find ten ways to write about being in love, but he has a hard time translating love on the page to love in real life. Julie slips between his fingers like sand, and Stephen sees his father staring back when he looks in the mirror.

Try as he might to rewrite his life, even going so far as to change his name, he has to wonder if he is the author or the killer of love.

 


About the Author


Cynthia Hilston is a stay-at-home mom of three young kids, happily married, and lives in the Cleveland, Ohio, area. Writing has always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the world of fan fiction, she stepped away to do her debut dance with original works of fiction, although she still dabbles in fan fiction.

In her spare time – what spare time? – she devours books, shamelessly watches Hallmark movies and When Calls the Heart, pets her orange and black kitties, looks at the stars, drinks wine or coffee with good friends, and dreams of what other stories she wishes to tell.

 

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