Sunday 12 February 2023

 

 


"A charming read with characters who come to life on the page—and who live for a cause whose urgency shines through the story." – Booklife Review


Tessa Walker is a veterinarian with a strong, emotional connection to animals. As a teen, she witnessed the brutal slaughter of dolphins, and as an adult, she decides to do something about it. She leaves her home in Los Angeles and travels to Japan to speak out for them, but little does she know that she is embarking on an adventure that will change her life forever. From the urban metropolis of Tokyo to the historic Kyoto to the culinary city of Osaka, and the seaside town of Taiji, Tessa is determined to help Japanese activists stand up for her beloved mammals.

Along the way, the friendships and bonds that she builds with people in Japan, and the unconditional love of a stranger named Toshiro, open her eyes to a complicated society of conventions and traditions. Yet, her limited knowledge of the language and customs doesn't deter her from taking on a dangerous mission that could land her in jail.



Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com


Read an Excerpt from The American Outsider

By the next afternoon, Tessa had already put the disastrous birthday party behind her. She realized that all her worries, concerns, and preparation for the dinner party—learning the proper things to say and do, choosing the right gift and gift wrap, dressing conservatively, and not expressing her true feelings—did not matter. The Yokoyamas had made up their minds to dislike her before they had even met her. Tessa had discussed this with Akira in the morning, and Akira reminded her that she had come to Tokyo to help save the dolphins, not worry about the opinions of others. “We are in this together for the long haul, and we both need to develop thicker skins if we want to survive adversity,” Akira told her. Tessa agreed and after Akira left for work, she went back to working on the Kyoto protest, promoting the cause on social media and making new contacts. Still in her pajamas, Tessa decided to take a nap and then do a bit of sightseeing before Akira got home. The doorbell buzzed as she laid down. She wasn’t expecting anyone. If they are looking for Akira, they’ll come back, she thought. It buzzed again and again. Tessa went to the balcony to take a quick look down at the persistent intruder. It was Toshiro. The guy doesn’t give up, she thought. Tessa was about to walk away before he could see her, but he lifted his head.


Homa Pourasgari spent hours in her father’s home office, writing, reading and letting her imagination carry her to unseen worlds. She moved to Los Angeles, California, at a young age. After graduating from Loyola Marymount University with a degree in business, she went to Paris for a year to study literature at the Sorbonne. Before becoming a full-time writer, she ran her own boutique, worked at a bank and a CPA firm, was a personal trainer and even taught spinning and cardio kickboxing. When she is not writing, she is stumbling, miming and pointing to find her way in a foreign country. Her latest novel, The American Outsider, is based on her travels in Japan.


Homa on the Web:
Website * Facebook * Twitter 





Monday 19 December 2022

 



When Aisha Rajput, the queen of raves and celebrity after-parties, is asked to plan a hospital fundraiser, she's convinced the sun finally rose from the west. And yet, she is determined to blow this brief out of the water for it is her one chance at redemption.

Seven years ago, she shattered Dr Kabir Pradhan's heart with a deliberate, conscious act of betrayal. The least she can do to make up for it is to save his hospital.

Aisha is the woman who loved him and broke him. The last thing Kabir needs is for her to do it all over again with his hospital. He doesn't want her, he doesn't need her, and he certainly won't tolerate her. Or so he tells himself.

When the hospital board leaves them with no choice but to work together, the stage is set for fireworks.

When the heartache of the past collides with the irresistible desire of the present, the future looks to be in jeopardy. Unless the Bad Girl goes Good and saves the day.
But can she?
And does Kabir even want her to, for like it or not, his heart has always belonged to the Bad Girl, hasn't it?



Read an Excerpt from Bad Girl Gone Good


KABIR

The Rajmata of Bannor looked positively hunted as she stared at me.
“She said she’s on her way, beta. I’m sure she will be here soon.”
My brow creased in confusion.
“Who is on her way? I thought we were meeting to discuss how to raise money for the new NICU.”
“We are! But you can’t raise funds without a proper fundraiser. And if anyone can organise a superhit, blockbuster event for you, it is she,” declared Her Highness.
What was the old lady smoking? We weren’t a Bollywood production house. Usha Kiran was a hospital with a reputation for quality healthcare. The manic gleam in her eyes made me very nervous, especially when she started throwing around words like superhit and blockbuster.
“She?” I asked carefully.
“Kabir, you can’t pull off such a big event all by yourself. You need an event manager.”
No. What I needed was for these old farts to get their heads out of their asses and come up with a plan to counter Her Highness’s schemes.
“Your Highness, we’re trying to collect funds, and I’m not sure how blowing up a huge chunk of money on a grand party is going to help us do that.”
The other members of the board nodded in agreement. The very thought of wasting money on a fundraiser made them turn ashen.
She shook her head in disappointment.
“Beta, sometimes you have to spend money to earn more.”
“Well, we don’t have much, to begin with, and I don’t think I can authorise such an expense when I could use the money to buy new ventilators,” I said apologetically.
I knew she meant well, but she needed a dose of reality. There was nothing glamorous about what we were trying to do here. We needed state-of-the-art incubators, ventilators with CPAP machines, as well as a well-trained NICU staff, all of which cost money.
“What if the board doesn’t have to spend a single penny? I will donate the money you need to organise the event,” she replied craftily.
“With due respect, Your Highness, why would you do that?"
She banged on the floor with the end of her walking stick.
“Because it is time to try something new. The world is full of people who have more money than they can spend in this lifetime. And some of them are even willing to share that wealth. You just need to know how to approach them. As for the ones that don’t want to part with their wealth, you need to know exactly how to lure and skin them,” said Her Highness, with relish.
Were we still talking about raising money? I had a feeling there was a ruthless serial killer lurking under that silk-clad grandmotherly exterior. I sighed as I resigned myself to an uncomfortable meeting with the event manager. But I would hear her out before I showed her the door. It was the least I could do.
I looked at my watch pointedly and nodded.
“Fine. Let’s see what this wizard of yours has in mind.”
There was a sharp knock at the door, and it swung open.
“I hope I’m not too old for one of your lollipops, Doctor Uncle,” called a voice that I hadn’t heard for years.
And yet, it hit me with the same force as it had seven years ago.
Her Highness rose to welcome her, but I stayed frozen in my seat, unable to do anything but stare at that familiar face. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck was Aisha Rajput doing here?
She walked into the room and greeted Her Highness with a warm hug.
“Now, where’s my favourite man?” she cooed, pulling away from the Rajmata of Bannor.
I clenched my jaw and stood up slowly to my full height as she turned towards me. When she spotted me, she swayed in place as if she had been dealt a body blow. I shot her a frosty smile that made her turn pale.
“Well, if it isn’t the OG Bad Girl,” I drawled.”


About the Author:
Alisha Kay writes funny, exciting and steamy stories, with spunky heroines who can rescue themselves, and hot, woke heroes who find such independence irresistible.
The first book in The Devgarh Royals series, The Maharaja’s Fake Fiancée, won the grand prize at the Amazon KDP Pen to Publish Contest 2020.

Alisha on the Web:
Instagram * Twitter 










Tuesday 22 November 2022

 

 



This story revolves around Woman and Womanhood through lenses of Social Kaleidoscope.

The essence of this story is overcoming the intricacy and complicacy of Womanhood through innovative measures with calculated risks.
Though since ages wise men never ever denied the unique importance of Women in their lives, but, at the same time couldn’t restrain from autocratic patriarchy and disguised misogyny.
Even Nature’s unworded Laws cruelly dumped Women after manipulating them to the fullest.
How long Woman will have to continue bearing the ongoing sufferings?
Nobody knows, even Woman herself…
But, there are exceptions as well sometimes…
One key protagonist takes the Woman sufferings as challenge, and, not only resolves the physical health and mental agony, but, unexpectedly raises the bar to the next level of inspirational excellences…
After all its own belief system, which can create anything anywhere anytime…
Let incommunicado with our Ethos & Egos… 
Let the status quo of our Women should not PAUSE…
Let our Women PLAY ever and ever and ever and ever… for ever…

Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon.in * Amazon.com

Meet the female protagonist from Me No Pause, Me Play by Manoj Kumar Sharma 

When and where were you happiest?
When I found Rajat is back to his earlier avatar of a good humorous fun loving human being and intensely loving husband. 

What is the quality you most like in a person?
One who respects and cares for others, especially for women.

What is your greatest fear?
The health issues at elderly age, particularly women health issues.

What is your greatest regret?
My greatest regret is that I failed to handle Rajat in his absurdly low times.

What is your motto?
Now my motto is to help elderly women for their health issues while menopause.


About the Author:
MIRRRO fame self-styled author Manoj Kumar Sharma has brought his next Novel from a different genre altogether ‘Woman Fiction’.
Delighted by the Best Seller status of MIRRRO in specific multiple timelines, Awards from renowned Literature Houses, moral boosting reviews by book lovers, and, guiding critics, the Author do feel more responsibility for continual inclusive excellences to next levels.
Feel blessed as ‘MIRRRO’ been adjudged for prestigious Awards from renowned Literary Houses…..
1. Best Debut Author Award 2020 from ‘ICMDR’
2. Best Debut Novel Award 2020 among Top 100 Debut Novels from ‘CRITICSPACE’.
3. Best Fiction (Thriller) Award 2020 from ‘The Indian Awaz Foundation’
4. Best Thriller Book of the Year 2020 by ‘Literary Mirror’ 
5. Best Fiction Book of the Year 2020 by ‘AIY AGHAAZ’
6. Best Writer Award 2020 by ‘Yashassvi Awards’
The Story “Me No Pause Me Play” born out of day-to-day life in our society, where every now and then our Women are made to feel the pinch of Nature’s Laws and of Society’s hypocritical Patriarchy and Misogyny. 
We talk a lot and even do a lot for Gender equality, Woman Liberation, Woman Empowerment…but, the practical realities are far far away from the truth and still painful. 
Author is right now working on the sequel of MIRRRO and parallely working on few more Books of varied genres on various known issues of our day-to-day lives…but, in ways beyond innovativeness… 
As an overview the Author believes that Writing is a Soulful Act, blessed by Maa Sarasvatiji & Muse... not by the Author.

Author on the Web:

Giveaway:
1 Paperback Copy of Me No Pause, Me Play by Manoj Kumar Sharma (for Indian Residents)
1 Kindle Copy of Me No Pause, Me Play by Manoj Kumar Sharma (for International Residents)

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Tuesday 15 November 2022

 


Devil’s Boneyard MC, Book 12


Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Action & Adventure

Date Published: 11/18/2022

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Melina -- Men have never given me a reason to trust them. The Bratva taught me men are brutal. Selfish. And take what they want. Death would be better than tying myself to one ever again. Then a Russian biker swoops in to save me. As much as I want to believe everything he says, how can I? I’ve only known pain at the hands of men. I want him to be different… but any hope I had died long ago.

Stripes -- She thinks she’s broken. I see a survivor. A strong woman who’s still standing despite what’s been done to her. It will take time, but I’ll help her heal. Prove not all men are evil. I’ll give her a reason to keep living. Never again will someone cause her pain. If they do, they’ll answer to me. My hands are already stained with blood. What’s a little more?


WARNING: Recommended for readers 18+ due to language, violence, and adult situations. Stripes is part of the Devil’s Boneyard MC series and contains darker content some readers may find objectionable. Stripes can be read as a stand-alone story, even though it’s part of a series



 EXCERPT


All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Harley Wylde


“What intel did Wire send us?” I asked.

Gator shrugged, which meant he’d been as pissed as I was and hadn’t paid close attention. We’d parked about a block away and observed the place from a distance. I leaned against a building, smoking a cigarette, in the hopes people wouldn’t be suspicious. So far, we’d seen a few customers go in and come out not too long afterward. I highly doubted they were getting their money’s worth.

“I wish Specter would show the fuck up,” I grumbled.

“We’ll be lucky if he does.” Gator scanned the area. “Can I ask you something?”

“If I say no, will it stop you?”

He snorted and shook his head. As I figured. I motioned for him to go ahead.

“Why did you agree to this? Breaking the woman out of there, I understand. But letting them marry the two of you? Why the fuck would you take a whore as your wife?”

I fought for control, knowing he was genuinely curious and didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Otherwise, I’d have already put my fist through his face. I took my time, trying to figure out how I could word it.

“The woman in there didn’t agree to become a whore. They beat her. Raped her. Forced her into that way of life. If we don’t get her out, she’ll only suffer more. Grimm and the Dixie Reapers are concerned the Bratva will try to take her back. Marriage is the only way to protect her.”

Gator stared a moment before giving a slight nod. “Fine. As long as they didn’t coerce you into this shit. I know how big your heart is, Stripes, even if others don’t always realize it.”

I grinned and put out my cigarette. “Let’s get this out of the way. If Specter shows, great. If not, we’ll handle it.”

Breaking into a brothel wasn’t exactly difficult. I’d expected security, but I hadn’t seen a single man watching over the place. If they’d had electronic surveillance, I knew one of the hackers would have disabled it by now. We walked through the front doors and a woman, most likely the madam, smiled at us broadly.

“Gentlemen, what’s your pleasure today? We can cater to any and all of your needs.”

I curled my fingers into a fist, fighting to maintain control. I wanted to rip this place to pieces with my bare hands. Instead, I took in my surroundings. At a quick glance, I saw the frightened women nearby. A few of them looked completely destroyed. They no longer cared what happened to them, and the woman in front of me was the deadest of them all. Despite her smile, her eyes were vacant. She was little more than a puppet. I doubted she had any real control. The Bratva owned her, same as the other women here. Her greeting us only meant she’d been here the longest. They’d broken her long ago and had no reason to doubt she’d do exactly as they commanded.

I didn’t think any of these women came here voluntarily. Someone had possibly trafficked them. At the very least, they were being disciplined like Melina. I didn’t want them to get hurt, which meant I needed to be careful. And yet, I’d have to get my point across. The thought of scaring them soured my stomach. But fear and pain would be the only way to get their attention. At first, anyway.

“Do you want easy way or hard way?” I folded my arms. I didn’t need them to know I was a pushover when it came to a damsel in distress. With my accent, they might even think I had Bratva ties. And I knew it was thicker than usual right now. Even I could hear the difference. “I want Melina Romanov.”

 

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Monday 7 November 2022

 

I am so excited that GODS ON TRIAL: THE SERIES BEYOND THE FATHER by Opëshum available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway

About the Book

Title: GODS ON TRIAL: THE SERIES BEYOND THE FATHER

Author: Opëshum

Pub. Date: November 7, 2022

Publisher: 1iR3 Publishers, LLC

Formats: eBook

Pages: 269

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Kobo

Get your copy now for only $1!

 “Beyond the Father” sets the scene for the 8-book Sci-Fi Epic “gods on Trial: The Series,” delving into life’s determination to transcend all limitation. Set on the planet Xżyber, citizens of the Sub-Median Region, imperfectly reborn into metal, oppress those who are organic. Elsewhere, in the Central Kingdom, religion supports royalty’s brutal domination of the lowest class. War over scarce resources is coming, revolution within each region is brewing, and none know of the eccentric god who created them. This being watches, has fascinating conversations with his often-wiser companion, occasionally learns, and rarely intervenes. The many levels and threads of struggle distract nearly all from a far greater threat. Meanwhile, the young Prince Anglid’s vision quest into the unexplored Area X may ultimately change everything. However, just when you think you know the direction of the story, the author has yet another surprise.

 

Excerpt:

Episode 7 - PREVIEW 

Bitter-Sweet Choice 

“Fleet number, rank, and make?” asked the assignment officer at GATE 11, on the central floor  of Team Command. 

“44772PX, cadet, 40% Non-Mollard,” the next in line replied, quickly. 

“Cleared. Report to HAS 4 in Field 8,” the assignment officer abruptly responded. “Next?  I need Fleet number, rank, and make!” 

“23619RX, cadet, 30% Non-Mollard,” replied the next in line. 

“You’re cleared. Report to HAS 1, in Field 10,” said the assignment officer. “Next!” 

“Thank you, yes! I’m next,” responded another cadet, rushing up to the window. Her  rucksack slid off of her shoulder, where the stub of a missing arm stuck out just beyond the  sleeve of her shirt. “Here are all of my papers,” the cadet said, spreading out a pile of disheveled  notes.

“Hold it! I just need a fleet number, a rank and your make. I don’t need your life story,” snapped the officer. 

“Of course. I’m 24005RX . . . sub-cadet, 100% Non-Mollard.” 

The assignment officer studied the cadet disapprovingly. “100%—non-Mollard,” he  repeated, carefully scanning the cadet’s face. “Didn’t know they still let your kind in. And who is  your commanding officer?” he demanded. 

“Umm . . . Officer Liara, sir. And my name is Purvi,” continued the sub-cadet. 

The assignment officer pushed the papers back at Purvi and frowned. “I don’t need all  these papers,” the officer scowled. “And I don’t need your name!” 

“I see. Thank you, sir,” Purvi responded, retrieving her papers. But then she paused.  “But, you’re a Non-Mollard too, aren’t you?” she pressed. “In which case . . . well, it’s just so  hard connecting with anyone here. My whole fleet is mostly Mollard, and . . .” 

“Why are you still talking?” the assignment officer interrupted, while entering something  into his database. “You’re cleared for HAS 12 over in Field 3.” 

Realizing her gestures were unwelcome, Purvi quickly repositioned her rucksack and  turned to walk away. But then she turned back around and reapproached the window, consumed  by what had become a theme in her life—the burning desire to challenge what she felt was  wrong. “Why are you so full of hate when you are still part flesh yourself?” she challenged.  

Shocked, the assignment officer slowly looked up to meet Purvi’s bold stare and revealed  the circuitry behind his colorless, prosthetic eyes. “How dare you talk to me that way, you little  ‘scunt!” he seemed to growl through clench teeth. “How dare you even open your mouth to  speak to me without being asked a question? You remind me of everything that shouldn’t be.  You’re an unfortunate arrangement of flesh and mineral—with a mouth!” Growing even more  impatient, the assignment officer stood up quickly from his chair. “You are just a waste and a  burden to us all. Your kind shouldn’t even be here,” he sneered, leaning forward to make his  point. “Make no error in. I am part of the new Xżyber and you’re . . . you’re completely  expendable.” His voice became deeper, as did his frown. “Now get out of my line!”  

Purvi’s face turned red as her anger mounted inside of her. The unfriendly exchange  reminded her of the last time she spoke with Timmons, her grandfather. It was the day he had  declined his chance to be uploaded to the Vangora Rima and achieve eternal presence.  

It was a sullen afternoon, with the family and Timmons’ doctor. As they huddled around  the bed where Timmons lay weak, his doctor implored him to reconsider his decision, given he  was in the last few days of his life. However, Timmons refused to agree to the upload. 

This was an opportunity his family could not fathom he would turn down, and an option  only typically available to those who were at least 80% Mollard, or to those who had the means  to invest in the technology. 

However, Timmons, a brilliant Xżyberian—whose only misfortune was the constraints of  poverty—had managed to write numerous social advisories intended to promote harmony  between Mollards and Non-Mollards. He’d had hopes that his musings would provide him a  source of regular income, but his published works were only well received by some. Highly  criticized by most, he quickly won the label of an iconoclast and found himself forced into  obscurity.  

Yet still, his message captivated the Luminaries—the presiders over news and  commentary—who deemed that Timmons’ writings could be useful in the management and  wellbeing of the Non-Mollard community, and should be archived as a collection of noble  artifacts.  

With this came the rarest honor—the right to upload his consciousness to the Vangora  Rima until a fully prosthetic body was constructed for him. 

Purvi’s mother, who was the only surviving daughter of Timmons, sat by his bedside  pleading with him to accept the offer. And Purvi, almost nineteen-years-old at the time, sat on  the floor weeping.  

“Dearest father, the Vangora Rima has never been within our family’s grasp before,” cried Purvi’s mother, Ariel. “We may never get there—any of us. So, why would you walk away  from this now?” 

Timmons struggled to speak. “Take my hand, Ariel,” he said through strained breathing.  “Please remember what I taught you . . . what I taught all of you about desperation.” Timmons  opened his eyes slightly. “It can and will cloud your view and disrupt your clearest thoughts.” 

“But, Grandfather!” interjected Purvi. “We love you, and we want you to live forever!” Purvi placed her head down onto the bed, wiping her tears against Timmons’ frail arm.  

“Ah, Purvi. My little Purvi,” he said, stroking her hair. “The Vangora Rima would not  give you back the grandfather you know. The system would scrub me clean of what it deemed  were my imperfections: my concern, and my empathy…my ability to love you.” 

“I don’t care about how much it would change you, Grandfather,” Purvi cried. “I have  enough love for the both of us.” Purvi looked up, her eyes filled with so much water she could  barely see. “I am stronger than you think I am! I will love you even if you can’t love me back!” 

“Shh . . . my darling, Purvi.” Timmons whispered. “Please gather yourself and listen to  what I have to say.” Timmons removed a ring from his smallest finger and placed it in the palm  of one of her hands. “One day, Purvi . . .” he whispered. “One day, when you are fully grown, 

you will look into the face of pure evil, and I am eternally grateful that that face will not be  mine.” 

That was the last time Purvi heard her grandfather speak. 

“Are you gonna move, or do I need to have you discharged?” The assignment officer’s voice seemed to pierce through the tender silence. “Get this ‘scunt out of my line!” he yelled,  talking to one of the other officers.  

Before Purvi could gather herself, she felt an abrupt yank on her shirt as she was pulled  out of the line and pushed onto the ground. And before she could determine what was  happening, her head was pinned to the ground by the boot of her assailant.  

Purvi looked up to see two officers over her, both pointing their weapons, ready to  remove her for good.  

“I’m sorry! Please—” Purvi said. But then, realizing they were Mollards, and that her  pleading would get her nowhere, she quickly used what she knew would save her life. “Thank  you for teaching me to respect your power. I detest this flesh of mine. I honor all that is Mollard. I honor you! I honor you! Please…I honor you!”

 

 

About Opëshum:

Opëshum has been writing since she was a child, and believes that authors are selected by their characters to bring their stories to the world. Incredibly shy and introverted, Opëshum does not make public appearances. She prefers to remain behind the scenes as the characters in her books take center stage. Her current work, the 8-Book SciFi Epic gods on Trial: The Series™ kicks off with Book 1, BEYOND THE FATHER.   

Opëshum calls Sheridan, Wyoming her home, where she is currently writing Book 2 of this series. She lives in a modest Cape Cod dwelling on 3 acres of land where she lets a robust variety of sunflowers grow wild and untamed, while Aloe Vera and other succulents decorate almost every ledge within her house. An avid writer in the early morning and late at night, Opëshum often works on her manuscripts in rooms lit only by homemade candles.

She enjoys nature walks, full moons, and open spaces where she can stare up at the stars. 

"I live my life in the shadows, and I am shy. For I know that my appearance is not pleasing to the eye." - Opëshum Patroz

Website | TwitterFacebook | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon  

Join the Inner Circle!

20 lucky readers will be invited to Opëshum’s ARC team!

To get into the Inner Reading Circle, click on the link below, and enter the following Access Code: godsbook2

To be one of the lucky 20 click the link below and good luck! 

https://www.signupgenius.com/go/10C094FA8A722A0FCC52-opshums

 

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a $10 Amazon GC, International.

Ends November 15th, midnight EST.

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Wednesday 2 November 2022

 

I am so excited that THE YEAR OF THE BEAR by Douglas J. Lanzo & Ambassador International is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a finished copy of the book courtesy of Ambassador International & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

About The Book:

Title: THE YEAR OF THE BEAR

Author: Douglas J. Lanzo

Pub. Date: November 1, 2022

Publisher: Ambassador International

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook

Pages: 316

Find it: GoodreadsAmazon, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD, Bookshop.org

A remarkable story of a bear and the coming-of-age journey of a teenage boy.

Thirteen-year-old Jason is on the cusp of manhood, striving to fi nd his place at school and at home—especially after his mother has abandoned them and his father is left to deal with his own anger. When Jason and his father encounter a bear while out hunting, they shoot and kill it, not realizing that they have left a cub without its mother. When Sasquot of the Penobscot Tribe, a part of the Bear Family, discovers what they have done, he decides that Jason needs a lesson in caring for God’s creatures. Thus begins a year that Jason will never forget as he begins to care and train the cub in order for it to survive. As Jason forms a bond with the bear, he, in turn, learns valuable lessons for life. 

“Fans of classic, enthralling adventure (and I’m one) are in for a rare treat.”-Josh Lieb
New York Times best-selling and Emmy Award-winning author of I am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to Be Your Class President

 

Excerpt

The bright sunlight of a late August morning filtered through the windows and slanted into Jason’s eyes, disturbing a deep sleep that had passed into an agitated one. Jason’s dream had mirrored the reality of the previous night, except that he had found himself transformed from the hunter into the hunted. In his dream, Jason had stood alone in the center of a slowly but steadily constricting circle of bears stalking their prey, not for hunger but for revenge. He had killed one of their own, and Jason could discern from the intense fire that burned in their eyes that they had sentenced him to death. Jason shuddered for an instant in the nether world between sleep and consciousness and then gratefully found himself in the waking world.

Jason’s first thought was for the welfare of his loyal dog, who had nearly sacrificed his own life in defense of his threatened master. Max lay fast asleep, wrapped in his blanket with a half-eaten bowl of dog food beside him. Jason took this as an auspicious sign, recognizing that, beyond the sustenance it brought, feeding evidenced a psychological will to live. For Sasquot had ingrained in Jason an appreciation of the power of a being’s spirit to overcome adversity and even death, telling Jason from childhood, “Spirit inside is the fire of man. So long as the fire burns, death will have no power to steal the body away.”

Jason smiled with appreciation as he prepared a breakfast of cereal covered with slices of freshly picked apples. Max had weathered four Maine winters, a scrap with a Great Dane, and two raccoon bites. Max had not cowered from the bear in fear, but rather had pounced on it to protect his young master.

What a spirit! Jason beamed with admiration. If only I could act so bravely in the heat of such danger.

Engrossed in thought, Jason made his way from the main house to the sheep pasture where Sasquot would be grazing the sheep, absent one unfortunate lamb. Jason’s reflections centered on his family stock and whether he could ever measure up to their bravery.

 

 

About Douglas J. Lanzo:

An award-winning and featured inspirational author published in Vita Brevis Press’ bestselling 2021 poetry anthology and Café Haiku’s upcoming 2021 Fifth Poetry Anthology and featured in WestWard Quarterly’s Winter 2021 issue, since 2020 Douglas’ poetry has found homes in thirty-eight literary publications across the U.S., Canada, England, Wales, Austria, Mauritius, India, Australia, and The Caribbean. A graduate of Harvard College and Law School, where Douglas enjoyed writing editorials for The Harvard Crimson and articles for various other Harvard publications, he has published professional legal articles throughout his career. A General Counsel by day and writer by night, Douglas resides in Chevy Chase, Maryland, with his wife and twelve-year old identical twin boys, fellow published poets, enjoying nature, traveling, biking, tennis, and chess. 

Website | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

 

Giveaway Details:

1 Winner will receive a finished copy of THE YEAR OF THE BEAR, US Only.

Ends November 8th, midnight EST.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday 24 October 2022




Faced with a loveless marriage, Ananya Rajput does what she always does when faced with a tough situation - she runs away!
Except, this time she runs right into the arms of the man she’s dreamed about for years - okay, fantasised about, to be completely honest.
His Highness Yashvardhan Rathore, Yuvarajkumar of Bannor, is so going to burn in hell.
Not only did he help his dead friend’s sister run away from her wedding mandap, he now has terribly inappropriate feelings for her.
All his life he’s lived by one truth - no one has ever loved him enough to stay. And he doesn’t think a known flight risk like Ananya will be the first.
As her restless feet get calmer, the walls around his heart get higher.
Will Yash ever come to trust in love?
And will Ananya let her reluctant Prince Charming claim a runaway bride?

To find out read the third book in the Devgarh Royal series.

Book Links:
Amazon.com | Amazon.in


Excerpts from The Prince and the Runaway Bride


An astrologer once told my grandmother that a girl would be my downfall.

      As I stared at the girl in a bridal outfit shimmying down a rope made of bedsheets tied together, I had to admit that he might have been on to something.

      “Are you sure you want to do this, Ananya?” I asked for the third time.

      She turned around to glare at me.

      “Ask me that one more time. I dare you,” she snarled, as she tried to hold her veil in place while hanging on to said rope desperately.

      It was all very well for her to get testy, but I deserved some answers. When I had ducked around the side of Rajput House in response to her sister’s phone call, the last thing I expected was to be coerced into being the bride’s getaway driver.”

* * *

I wanted to throw my notebook at his head.
      I wanted to smack that smirk off his pretty face. Hard. I wanted to grab him by the collar, pull him closer and kiss that damn smirk off. Wait, what?
      No! Not kiss it off! Wipe it off. Slap it off. Punch it off? Maybe that was too harsh. But I definitely didn’t want to kiss it off. I mean, I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to.
      My face was getting hot and flushed just thinking about it. I wondered what Yash would do if I emptied the bottle of Himalayan water on my bedside table over my head. But I would do it if I had to. I would do whatever it took to keep Prince Charming at arm’s length.
“I’ll keep my panties to myself, thank you very much,” I said icily.
      Aargh! Why the hell was I even talking about my panties? Yash was the most gorgeous man that ever walked off the pages of a fairy tale and into my personal horror story. And here I was, embarrassing myself every time I opened my mouth. Where was a roll of duct tape when you needed it?
      


About the Author:
Alisha Kay writes funny, exciting and steamy stories, with spunky heroines who can rescue themselves, and hot, woke heroes who find such independence irresistible.
The first book in The Devgarh Royals series, The Maharaja’s Fake Fiancée, won the grand prize at the Amazon KDP Pen to Publish Contest 2020.

Alisha on the Web:
Instagram * Twitter 

Sunday 23 October 2022


Historical Romance

Date Published: October 10, 2022

 

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When a lady's maid poses as the hero's contracted bride, both hero and heroine must reinterpret marriage and unconditional love.

 

Trevor Gaines, the Marquess of Pickering, falls in love with his wife. The catch? The woman is an impostor. Desperate for money, he arranges a fast marriage with the wealthiest dowry in England. Not until after the wedding does he realize he married the wrong woman.

J’non Butler is a maid accompanying her mistress for an arranged marriage. When her mistress elopes with another man, J’non marries the marquess, posing as the man’s contracted bride.

This is the love story of Trevor and J’non as they defy convention and find passion in their bed of lies.


About the Author

 Celebrated for her complex characters, realistic conflicts, and sensual portrayal of love, Paullett Golden writes historical romance for intellectuals. Her novels, set primarily in Georgian England, challenge the genre's norm by starring characters loved for their flaws, imperfections, and idiosyncrasies. Her plots explore human psyche, mental and physical trauma, and personal convictions. Her stories show love overcoming adversity. Whatever our self-doubts, love will out.

 

Contact Links

Website

Twitter

Facebook

Instagram


Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday 21 October 2022

 

 

A War in Too Many Worlds by Elizabeth Crowens Banner

A War in Too Many Worlds

by Elizabeth Crowens

October 17 - November 11, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A War in Too Many Worlds by Elizabeth Crowens

The Time Traveler Professor

The secret diaries of John Patrick Scott pick up at the close of 1917. British intelligence sends Scott to work undercover in Berlin with his old partner-in-crime, Wendell Mackenzie, as his outside contact in Paris. Back on the Western Front, Scott discovered his ability to see the ghosts of the dead. Unsure if that’s a blessing or a curse, he takes this one-step further, employing spirits in the world of deception and intrigue. As the Russian monarchy crumbles and the Red Baron meets his final match, for Scott, true love is always beyond arm’s reach. His long-lost patrons and paramours, Sophia and Francois Poincaré, resurface but as potential enemies of the Crown.

Arthur Conan Doyle vows to retrieve his stolen time machine from H.G. Wells. Scott is still at odds with Doyle, who still refuses to publicly acknowledge his contributions for ghostwriting Sherlock Holmes, and Doyle encounters Harry Houdini in the most unlikely of places. Get ready for a wild ride.

Time Traveler Professor, Book Three: A War in Too Many Worlds, pairs murder, mayhem and mysticism in a mashup where The Lost World meets The Island of Doctor Moreau. Stay tuned for Book Four, The Story Beyond Time, the final book in this epic series.

Praise for A War in Too Many Worlds:

"You'll find that time stands still as your turn the pages and enjoy the roller-coaster plot, the only disappointment arriving when you reach the final moments of this extraordinary story... and want more."

"Meticulously researched and wholly evocative of its time period; rich detail, immersive atmosphere and clever use of documented Victorian interests in the paranormal give Crowens’s latest novel distinct authenticity. The difficult task of channeling such bold and beloved icons as Doyle, Wells and Houdini is confidently and capably handled. Brimming with specificity, historic flavor and intriguing supernatural fancy, A War in Too Many Worlds is an impressive feat of fact weaving into fiction; sure to please history buffs as well as the more fantastical at heart in equal measure."

Leanna Renee Hieber, award-winning, bestselling author

"Pack your best time-traveling attire, your sense of humor, and your open mind. A War in Too Many Worlds by Elizabeth Crowens, the third book in the Time Traveler Professor series, is a vibrant, explosive treatise on the intersection of magic, science, and spirituality. The book is both a loving nod to an era when magic and science were separated by a hairsbreadth, and a Jungian exploration of time, memory, and mysticism. Though the topics are erudite, the author’s wit and humor combined with karmic twists, musical accompaniment, and a historical who’s who, keep the book moving to its thrilling and unexpected climax. The entire series is highly recommended, and I can’t wait to see what happens next."

Kerry Adrienne, USA Today bestselling author

"This genre-bending trip through time and space offers the same delightfully loopy charm as a Doctor Who episode—but with its own irresistible allure, as if Douglas Adams and Jules Verne collaborated with a little help from Kafka. Crowens jumps effortlessly from the mournful haunts of Berlin during the Great War to the unpredictable travels of H.G. Wells and Arthur Conan Doyle. Exotic—and yet strangely familiar—characters keep popping up to entertain us. However, even among the amusements are laments of lost loves and lost opportunities—along with ghosts (both real and imagined)—all of which elevate the story. Indeed, together with the many fantastic elements, we are moved by the strivings and desires of the all-too-human characters, who will stick with you long after you get to the last page."

R.J. Koreto, author of the Lady Frances Ffolkes and Alice Roosevelt historical mysteries

"Take your favorite elements for a paranormal mystery adventure— from Victorian times into the 20th century, historical (and then some) characters like Conan Doyle, Jung, Houdini, and a few surprises. Add the MacGuffin of a mysterious red book, and you will understand the delights of Elizabeth Crowens’s series featuring the Time Traveling Professor. Things come to a head in the third book in this delightful series. If you need to escape this world for a bit, try the one she has so beautifully built for you."

Jim Freund, host of radio program Hour of the Wolf

Book Details:

Genre: Alternate History / Time Travel
Published by: Atomic Alchemist Productions
Publication Date: August 16th 2021
Number of Pages: 293
ISBN: 9781950384075
Series: Time Traveler Professor, #3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | The Mysterious Bookshop

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 2 CONFESS THE CRIME

Arthur Conan Doyle made a reservation for H.G. Wells to dine with at Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, one of the poshest establishments London had to offer. Both Arthur’s and Wells’s cars pulled up to the curb at the same time. Dressed to the nines, each gentleman appeared as if he were bound for the opera with top hats and the finest of formal wear.

“I almost feel guilty dressing for the occasion.” Wells adjusted his dinner jacket and mumbled that they were tailored for men who were far less pudgy. “Like it’s anti-patriotic to be celebrating while others are in misery.”

“I thought something nutritious at Simpson’s would not be out of place,” Arthur said.

“Didn’t Sherlock Holmes say something like that?

“He mentioned Simpson’s in The Adventure of the Dying Detective. After feigning a fatal illness and starving himself for three days to look the part, he looked forward to breaking his fast by dining here. Rest assured, I planned this so we wouldn’t arrive on their mandatory meat-free day of the week.”

“Oh, how I hate wartime rationing.”

“Agreed. At the beginning of the war, Simpson’s managed to be exempt. In fact, an article in The Times said in an obituary of its head chef, ‘Thomas Davey was a culinary patriot. He commanded a brigade of 100 men, and under his supervision 1,400 pounds of English meat, 300 pounds of turbot, 100 pounds of Scotch salmon, and two wagons full of vegetables were prepared every day.”

Wells added, “P.G. Wodehouse once wrote, ‘The God of Fatted Plenty has the place under his protection.’”

“Come,” Arthur said. “They’re strict in enforcing penalties on latecomers. My hunger is talking, and I’d hate to be turned away due to a ridiculous rule. I’ve been so looking forward to their famed silver trolleys piled high with meats-a-plenty. Allons-y!”

The maître d’ ushered them to a back table where the gentlemen settled in and got comfortable. He returned with menus and apologized for their abbreviated wartime menu. Although food was on his mind, Arthur’s main objective of the evening was to ferret out any information possible whether his theories held water that Wells was the prime suspect in the theft of his time machine.

“Bertie, besides whatever you’re tied up doing for the Ministry of Information, what have you been writing, especially in the realm of fiction?”

Wells took a sip of water and carefully placed his napkin on his lap, his words calculated and deliberate. “My publishers requested I steer clear of controversial politics. They suggested I try my hand at detective stories since yours have been so popular.”

Speechless, Arthur raised a brow.

“No need to worry.” Wells laughed. “You’ll find no competition in my corner. My brain has refused to wrap itself around such a concept divergent from my true nature. Try likening it to a fish trying to swing from trees with a simian’s prehensile tail.”

Arthur took a moment for the scientific analogy to sink in. “Or like Sherlock Holmes insisting on following the advice of a bunch of gypsy fortunetellers?”

Wells nodded. “Pretty much along the same lines. With this bloody war dominating everything in our daily lives, it’s impossible not to speculate about utopian futures and what life should be, or how it would turn out if certain actions were taken. What about you?”

“The political scene doesn’t seem to be my calling. You know... with my unsuccessful attempt at running for a Parliamentary seat in Edinburgh back at the turn of the century. Whether I like it or not, Holmes stocks the larders of my extended family. I have, however, been writing a series of non-fiction books on the history of the Great War. With so many members of my clan putting their lives at stake on the battle lines, I wonder how many more mouths I might have to feed. There’s my brother Innes, my brother-in-law, Malcolm Leckie, a few cousins and, of course, my oldest son, Kingsley, from my first marriage are all serving over there. Maybe Kingsley will make a success of his medical career as opposed to my failed practice in ophthalmology.”

“I’m surprised that your son Kingsley isn’t going to take up the pen like his famous papa.”

“I’ve been fortunate to have received an expositor’s blessing, but as you know, it can be a lonely, difficult, and penurious road.”

“But surely, he wouldn’t be going it alone. He’s got his father’s footsteps he can follow, not to mention his influence.”

“There are others who’d like to take advantage of those favors, and I’ve refrained.”

“Oh, there are?”

On that cue, Arthur changed the subject, not wanting to tread on an unwanted path. “Ah, here’s our waiter. How about a bottle of wine? It’s not often that anyone gets to forget a war is going on. Let’s pick a claret or a hearty pinot noir from Beaune for our carnivorous celebration!”

He looked around at the half-empty dining room in dismay, aware he needed to distract his dinner companion from further inquiry on a subject he wanted to keep secret.

“So few patrons...it’s sad. One would assume Simpson’s was shutting its doors and going out of business,” he said with a sigh and glanced around the room. “I don’t recognize a single soul.”

Wells laughed. “This place will survive after the Martian invasion has obliterated half the population of London.”

The men placed their orders and continued their conversation. As much as pleasantries and small talk were always welcome, Arthur knew he had to stick to an agenda.

“Bertie, have you ever considered writing any sequels to any of your successful pieces of fiction?”

“Surely you don’t expect me to follow up with a happily ever after to Anna Veronica, a story which has summoned nothing but controversy...not to mention my condemnation by the heads of the Fabian Society.”

“Over Amber Reeves, I presume.”

“And others. I’m lucky my wife Jane has the capability to turn off her sensitivity like a spigot. We might have our differences, but she is a good mother to our children, and the resulting firestorm could’ve been even more disastrous. I’m a staunch proponent of feminist free-will and liberation and wholeheartedly have supported the Suffragette Movement, but I resent being branded as a libertine. In the end, the Fabian Society was comprised of socialist idealists with their stuffy Victorian mores.

“Having the financial clout to speak my mind on the page has had its advantages, but I doubt if the full expression of sexual passions is in vogue when the war to end all wars takes precedence. Rebecca West, my darling, has written literary critiques in my defense, but others have not been so forgiving. Maybe it’s an attack —a class war of sorts—that I’ve achieved notoriety and success where others haven’t, and it’s always easier to cut another down than to improve upon one’s own shortcomings. I could come up with plenty of theories. However, with such scathing attacks on Mr. Polly, Togo-Bungay, and The Research Magnificent from several corners, I don’t think the public craves a sequel on the promotion of extramarital sex.”

Breaking out into a sweat, Wells started to grab a gravy-soaked napkin by accident but reached for his handkerchief to wipe off his damp forehead, instead. “Our unfolding history will dictate an encore to Mr. Breitling Sees it Through, and I mentioned it in one of our earlier conversations that I’m concerned my political and technological predictions will bode ill for mankind. Don’t consider it farfetched that our German enemies might’ve raided my garbage and invented weapons of doom and destruction from the outtakes of my manuscripts. We already have tank warfare to answer for after I wrote my story, The Iron Clads.”

“Bertie, you’re making this way too personal. Let’s appeal to the simple, Troglodyte mind and communicate in plain English.” Arthur took a moment to savor the smells of his special-prepared mutton curry. He’d have to choose his words with care—a sensitive topic, to say the least. “I was thinking more along the other end of the spectrum—of capitalizing upon the success of your scientific romances.”

“Like what you did with Professor Challenger in The Poison Belt?” Wells asked.

“Precisely. I’ve even considered writing a third novel in that series. Have one of your heroes go back to the scene of the crime. Ha! Here, I’m speaking in terms of Scotland Yard. Suppose you have Bert Smallways embark upon another aerial adventure in a follow up to A War in the Air. Jules Verne created the Mysterious Island, a sequel to Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Why don’t you have hapless Edward Penrick from The Island of Doctor Moreau shipwrecked again? Better yet, have your time traveler return from his journey and fire up his time machine one more time.”

Arthur gave a hard stare, convinced his friend was skirting the subject. His brief silence was broken by the waiter asking if they cared for any dessert.

Wells viewed Arthur with serious concern. “Please don’t be redundant about your friend who has invented a time machine, and you’re inviting me over to try it.”

Alarmed, Arthur gulped down his coffee. “You said the words, not I.”

“Good, because I have no interest,” Wells replied.

A street urchin, clutching a loaf of bread and followed by several irate members of Simpson’s kitchen staff, rushed toward their table just as Arthur was about to elaborate.

“Who do we have here?” Wells asked, surprised but amused at the unexpected interruption.

“He reminds me of one of the Baker Street Irregulars whom Holmes uses as confederates to get information on his suspects.” Arthur added.

The boy’s cap fell on the floor. Arthur bent over and picked it up.

“Alms for the poor?” the waif asked.

“Cute kid,” Arthur said, reaching in his pocket for spare change. The kitchen staff scolded the child and swiped back the bread, but when they noticed his grubby hands caked with grease and soot, they declared it ruined and unfit for their customers and gave it back with disdain. The maître d’ caught up with the gentlemen, accompanied by his security detail, who apologized and escorted the intruder pell-mell out the door.

In the end, Arthur was no further from his objective than whence he started. He still couldn’t prove Wells had stolen his time machine and, to make matters worse, he realized their diminutive beggar was also a sly pickpocket. His wallet, along with his cherished gold timepiece, which he hadn’t secured on a chain, was gone. Wells had to pick up the tab.

***

Excerpt from A War in Too Many Worlds by Elizabeth Crowens. Copyright 2022 by Elizabeth Crowens. Reproduced with permission from Elizabeth Crowens. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Elizabeth Crowens

Currently New York City-based, worked in the entertainment industry in NY and LA for over 25 years. Writing credits include Black Belt, Black Gate, and Sherlock Holmes Mystery magazines, stories in Hell’s Heart and the Bram Stoker Award-nominated A New York State of Fright, and three alternate history/SFF novels. Recipient of the MWA-NY Leo B. Burstein Scholarship, City Artists Corps / New York Foundation of the Arts grant, a Glimmer Train Honorable Mention, an Eric Hoffer First Prize, two Grand Prize and five First Prize Chanticleer Review awards, including a 2022 Grand Prize in the Chanticleer Review Cygnus Awards for Science Fiction for A War in Too Many Worlds.

Catch Up With Elizabeth Crowens:
www.ElizabethCrowens.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @ecrowens
Instagram - @crowens_author
Twitter - @ECrowens
Facebook - @thereel.elizabeth.crowens

 

 

Tour Participants:

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Giveaway:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Elizabeth Crowens. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

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