Thursday, October 17, 2024

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Autumn Embers (Batavia-on-Hudson Mystery, #3) by Tina deBellegarde

Autumn Embers by Tina deBellegarde Banner

AUTUMN EMBERS

by Tina deBellegarde

October 14 - November 8, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Autumn Embers by Tina deBellegarde

A Batavia-on-Hudson Mystery

 

Bianca St. Denis travels to Kyoto to return a priceless artifact recovered in Batavia-on-Hudson during last summer’s flood. It’s late October and the city of 2,000 shrines is in full autumn splendor. While she’s in Japan’s ancient capital, Bianca visits with her son, a student at Kyoto University. Ian shows her the sights and introduces her to his circle of friends—his chosen family.

On the night of her welcome party, Bianca thinks she witnesses a struggle in the garden, perhaps even a murder. When the police investigate and find no body, she is stumped yet alarm bells won’t stop ringing. She knows she’s witnessed something.

When a dead body surfaces and suspicion falls on her son, Bianca’s maternal instincts spring to action to protect Ian and clear his name. Meanwhile, things in Batavia-on-Hudson are tense. Sheriff Mike Riley is losing his re-election while tackling devastating news about his dead partner, and wavering about his troubled marriage.

Autumn Embers explores the malleable nature of our identities and reminds us that chosen families can be stronger than we think, and that true friendship can bridge any distance.

Praise for AUTUMN EMBERS:

"A beautiful novel that seamlessly embraces past and present, east and west, mystery and resolution, all the contradictions that make us human. This is the rare book that leaves its reader feeling balanced and whole."
~ Carol Goodman, two-time winner of the Mary Higgins Clark prize and author of Return to Wyldecliff Heights

"Tina deBellegarde expertly captures the details of two very disparate worlds, reminding us that at the heart of these experiences is our shared humanity. I’ve become a new fan!"
~ Naomi Hirahara, Edgar Award-winning author of the Mas Arai mystery series and the Mary Higgins Clark Award-winning Clark and Division

"Get ready for another thrilling ride with Tina deBellegarde's mystery series, this time in our own Kyoto backyard."
~ Amy Chavez, Author of The Widow, the Priest and the Octopus Hunter

"Fans of Louise Penny and Crazy Rich Asians will adore Autumn Embers...Heartful and human, an intriguing mystery, and filled to the brim with rich descriptions, this love letter to Japan is Tina de Bellegarde at her finest."
~ Jen Collin Moore, Author of the captivating Roman Holiday Mysteries

'This is a scrumptious book...Autumn Embers will have you reaching for your passport and booking a ticket to "the land of the rising sun."'
~ Carol Pouliot, Author of the Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mysteries

"Like a richly woven tapestry, this immersive tale has it all...With vivid descriptions and an unhurried writing style, Autumn Embers is thoroughly engrossing!"
~ Lida Sideris, Author of the Southern California Mysteries

Book Details:

Genre: Female Amateur Sleuth
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: September 17, 2024
Number of Pages: 321
Series: A Batavia-on-Hudson Mystery, 3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bianca removed her shoes and found a pair of slippers approximately her size. She tucked her shoes in a cubby and followed Ian up the stairs of the ramen house. They settled into a spot at the counter in the far corner. She looked at the menu out of habit, but knew she couldn’t read it, nor did she need to. This was her favorite ramen place, and she knew exactly what she wanted. In fact, tired or not, this place had been on her mind all day. If she couldn’t sleep, she could at least have her black sesame ramen.

Across the counter, the server brought them each a small beer and took their orders. Bianca looked around and realized that nothing had changed at all. It was as if she had never left. She wondered what it must be like to live in a world where the movement of change could be at once imperceptible and monumental. Kyoto was remarkable in its ability to modernize dramatically while remaining steadfastly traditional.

Bianca’s mouth watered as a steaming bowl was placed before her. The handmade noodles beckoned, submerged in a rich dark broth of spicy black sesame.

Itadakimasu,” they said before they started their meal.

She took a slurp of broth first, the spice clearing her sinuses immediately, then with her chopsticks she gathered up some long strands of ramen and did her best not to make a mess.

They barely spoke as they ate. The food was too delicious and demanding of their attention, and they had talked for hours already. They were content in the sounds of their eating and the sounds of the fellow diners having a fun night out.

When Ian excused himself to find the men’s room, Bianca continued spooning the last of her broth then was surprised by a nudge. She opened her eyes and slowly realized that she had nodded off to sleep at the counter with her spoon still resting in her hands. The last strands of noodles had never made it to her mouth.

“Time to go, Mom.”

Bianca used all her energy to stand up with some dignity and followed him back to the shoe cubby and then out the door, but not before they called out to the ramen chefs to thank them for the meal.

Gochisousamadeshita!”

Once outside, they lingered briefly at the window watching as the chefs rolled and cut the fresh noodles. Bianca was mesmerized by their actions. They worked so effortlessly as if they had no need to think about these motions.

Bianca leaned on Ian as they made their way through the alley known as Ponto-chō, the traditional bar district. Too small for cars, the cobble- stone walkways were lined with tiny restaurants and clubs, their entrances illuminated by glowing paper lanterns. A different aroma escaped each establishment. Some scents Bianca could identify—ginger, garlic, grilling meats. Other delectable fragrances she couldn’t. Despite having eaten enough, her appetite was reawakened.

They walked slowly, enjoying the cool autumn night. Just as they were leaving the quiet street, they saw a geisha walking beside a businessman. The rich fabric of her amber kimono shimmered in the light of the lanterns and her hair was perfectly coiffed with a burgundy hairpin. As the lovely girl passed them, Bianca turned to catch a better look. She admired the elaborate knot of the brocade obi belt and the delicate end points of the white makeup on the young woman’s neck.

Bianca considered it a good omen to spot a geisha on her first day in Kyoto. They were a rare sight. Some tourists could spend their entire vacation in Kyoto and never see one.

Arriving at the apartment close to 9:30, Ian unlocked the gate and led her to the front door of the guest house. As he opened the door to the darkened room he whispered, “Tadaima.” I’m home.

He showed Bianca to her room where Jiro had already deposited her bags. She hugged Ian, turned to her futon, and crawled into it without changing into pajamas. Ian turned to close the door.

“Ian, wait.”

He turned back.

“You’re happy here.”

He nodded.

“You feel at home, don’t you?”

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. He nodded again.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

***

Excerpt from Autumn Embers by Tina deBellegarde. Copyright 2024 by Tina deBellegarde. Reproduced with permission from Tina deBellegarde. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Tina deBellegarde

Tina deBellegarde’s debut novel, Winter Witness, was nominated for an Agatha Award for Best First Novel. Dead Man’s Leap, her second book in the Batavia-on-Hudson Mystery series, was nominated for an Agatha Award for Best Contemporary Novel. Reviewers have called Tina “the Louise Penny of the Catskills.” Tina also writes short stories and flash fiction. Her story “Tokyo Stranger,” nominated for a Derringer Award, appears in the Mystery Writers of America anthology When a Stranger Comes to Town edited by Michael Koryta. Tina co-chairs the Murderous March Conference and is a founding member of Sleuths and Sidekicks, where she blogs, tours virtually, and teaches writing workshops. She is a member of Writers in Kyoto and reviews books for BooksOnAsia.net. She lives in Catskill, New York with her husband Denis and their cat Shelby. She travels frequently to Japan to visit her son and daughter-in-law and to do research. Tina is currently working on a collection of interconnected short stories based in Japan.

Catch Up With Tina deBellegarde:
www.TinadeBellegarde.com
www.SleuthsAndSidekicks.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @tinadebellegarde
Instagram - @tdb_writes
Threads - @tdb_writes
Twitter/X - @tdbwrites
Facebook - @tinadebellegardeauthor 

 

Review:

5 stars!

Wonderful cozy mystery wrapped in family and a fall in Kyoto. 

Autumn Embers is the third book in author Tina deBellegarde’s cozy Batavia-on-Hudson Mystery series; however, readers new to the books should have no trouble slipping right into the storyline. Sympathetic main characters and a plethora of interesting secondary ones, two excellent, simultaneous storylines, and vibrant settings half a world apart made this a distinctive and entertaining tale. 

The story is told from multiple points of view coming from two very different parts of the world: Sheriff Mike Riley in the series’ home base of Batavia-on-Hudson in upstate New York and Kyoto, Japan, where the series’ main character, Brianca St. Denis has traveled to be honored for her role in returning an antique netsuke to its original owners. As her only son, Ian Grant, is currently living in Kyoto, Bianca is taking the opportunity to visit him for an extended time. The author does an amazing job with both settings, making you feel like you are there in person. I particularly enjoyed the almost travelogue presentation of the sights and sounds Bianca encounters in Kyoto. 

Bianca is a recent transplant to Batavia-on-Hudson and a new widow as well, having lost her husband soon after they relocated to the small town. Before she departs for Japan, she discovers she’s achieved an important milestone in her life. She realizes that her new friends and neighbors consider her one of their own and no longer outside. She is smart and controlled as an amateur sleuth. While she has had success in the past in solving murders, in Kyoto, she lets the officials do their job. She inadvertently witnessed the crime, and as Ian is a suspect, she quietly questions some sources on her own but doesn’t push herself into a main role, except when she becomes a target of the killer herself. 

Back in Batavia, Mike is having difficulty settling into a second bachelorhood after his separation from his wife, Maggie. Partnering with Bianca in the previous books to solve a couple of local murders had helped him somewhat in his new life as a single man and as an outsider in the small town. He’s currently in a bid for re-election as sheriff when he discovers his righthand deputy is one of his opponents and has also learned that the death of his former NYPD partner was not the suicide everyone thought. All his guilt, doubts, and insecurities play havoc with his health and emotions as he decides whether to fight for his job or hang up his handcuffs. 

A lovely yet poignant part of Bianca’s storyline is her reunion with Ian, whom she hasn’t seen in two years. She’s relieved and pleased to see Ian thriving there, a mother’s ultimate desire, but also sad, realizing his happiness there is going to keep them separated from easy and frequent contact. 

The storytelling is smooth and absorbing, with just enough backstory woven in to give readers new to the series context without slowing current events down. I started reading this book with the intention of enjoying just a couple of chapters, but I was quickly hooked and read through to the finish. 

I recommend AUTUMN EMBER to cozy mystery fans, especially those who would enjoy a vivid Kyoto setting.



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Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: The Roots Run Deep and other stories by C.M. Forest


THE ROOTS RUN DEEP
by

C.M. Forest

Horror Short Story Collection
Publisher: Eerie River Publishing
Publication Date: September 27, 2024
Page count: 214 pages

SCROLL DOWN FOR GIVEAWAY!

SYNOPSIS:

Dug from the twisted mind of C.M. Forest, the acclaimed author of Infested, comes a collection of 15 horror stories that will drag you into the abyss of fear and despair. 

A fast-food playland with a nightmarish secret, a greenhouse with a bug problem, a busload of kids lost in the woods, a trip through the solar system to investigate a strange comet, and many more. 

Brace yourself for an unrelenting journey through a world where evil knows no bounds, and darkness consumes all.




CLICK TO PURCHASE!




ENJOY AN EXCERPT:

“Lily! Your mom is not going to be happy with Daddy if I don’t get you home, honey.” 

Robert drummed his fingers on the lip of the plastic rim entrance to the playland. He leaned into the opening and listened for any sound at all. 

“Lily?” 

A terrible thought came to him. What if someone’s taken her? 

He shook his head to dislodge the idea from his brain. But a growing level of unease, like some dank fungus flourishing in the darkest of places, kept the horrible possibility present in his mind. 

“Lily, this isn’t funny, baby.” Robert stuck his head farther into the hole, and his voice immediately echoed back at him, a dozen clones parroting his words. 

Panic, the likes of which Robert wouldn’t have thought possible—certainly not so quickly anyway—arced through his body. He yelled again into the structure. 

Nothing. 

Not even the smallest knock or scratch to indicate there was anything alive in the playland at all.


AUTHOR'S GUEST POST:

Please welcome C.M. Forest, the author of today's featured book, to the blog!

"Convince us why your book is a must read." 

Once, long ago, there was a village. And in that village was a young man with a peculiar affliction. He saw things that had yet to happen. Great triumphs of humanity. His fellow residents feared him, naturally, and as result, this young man was banished into exile. While wandering the frightening landscape of a Neolithic world, he found a cave. As far as a dwelling went, it was not the best, but it would keep him dry at night and relatively safe from predators. He spent the remainer of his cursed existence in that cave, passing time by painting on the walls. The things he saw, his visons of the future, were dabbed with the lunatic glee of a person fully succumbed to their demons.

Flash forward to present day. A group of archaeologists find the cave. They are not prepared for what awaits inside. A series of images, perfectly preserved over the millennia, decorating the craggy walls. The first, and what clued the archeologists into the fact that the ancient, stone-aged man who lived in the cave was seeing the future, was of a Nintendo system. Seriously. A NES! Next up, Barbenheimer! Yes, 2023’s blockbuster movie event of the summer, was glimpsed in fever-dream visions by the stone-age man! Other things prophesied were: sliced bread, coffee, Netflix, the moon landing, Tom Hanks, and a book. Which book, you ask? It’s it obvious? It was The Roots Run Deep!

Now, I don’t know why that man, so very long ago, foresaw the release of my short-story collection, but he did. And if such supernatural forces would deem my work worthy of such Nostradamus-levels of precognition, then who am I to argue?

The Roots Run Deep is a short story collection filled with thirteen spooky tales. Everything from folk horror to comedic horror. A collection that, if my mom was brave enough to read it, she would declare it the best thing ever written (even not being brave enough to read it, she still makes that claim!).

So, if the above almost certainly true story didn’t convince you, nor the very high praise from my dear mother, then surely nothing will. But know this, when the day comes to say goodnight on life, and you are lying in your deathbed, will you truly be able to face infinity knowing you left such a work of fiction unread? I think not. 



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

C.M. Forest, also known as Christian Laforet, is the author of the novel Infested, the novella We All Fall Before the Harvest, the short story collection The Space Between Houses, as well as the co-author of the short-story collection No Light Tomorrow. His short fiction has been featured in several anthologies across multiple genres. A self-proclaimed horror movie expert, he spent an embarrassing amount of his youth watching scary movies. When not writing, he lives in Ontario, Canada with his wife, kids, three cats and a pandemic dog named Sully who has an ongoing love affair with a blanket.


GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY!

The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

a Rafflecopter giveaway



 


Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Book Tour: The Hart of God, The End of Days by Lawrence R. Deering


The Hart of God,
The End of Days
by
Lawrence R. Deering

Fiction / Thriller / Apocalyptic / Christian
Publisher: Manhattan Book Group
Publication Date: July 14, 2024
Page count: 409 pages

SYNOPSIS:

Successful, college educated men in their twenties and thirties are admitted to psychiatric institutions claiming to be angels in a satanic army. They know their rank, mission, and commanding officer. Many had no prior religious background. Friends, Jonathan Hart, a reporter, and Charles Atwater, a psychologist collaborate on studying these patients with Angelic Psychotic Disorder. They discover that what they call the Dark Angel movement has people placed in the highest levels of government. The book examines the ease of which a charismatic leader promising peace could persuade people to give up their individual rights. It questions the strength of faith, what normal people are capable of when confronted with enormous challenge, and the impact on individual relationships. 

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lawrence R. Deering spent more than forty years as a healthcare executive. His first novel Youth Group, was based on his experiences in the Southern Baptist church. The Spider Web Charmer featured Michael and Michelle Crawford, married private detectives with unique abilities chasing down a serial killer.

He wrote The Brotherhood, The Hart of John, (the New Apocalypse,), and The Hart of God, (the End of Days) all part of the Hart trilogy.

He is an avid audiophile and enjoys listening to his rock vinyl record collection. He lives with his wife, Lisa, in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

 

Contact Link

Website

 REVIEW:

5 stars!

Exciting story about the struggle of good versus evil. 

In The Hart of God, The End of Days, author Lawrence R. Deering has crafted an intriguing and frightening tale of Armageddon. Told from multiple points of view, some from humanity’s side and others from those aligned with Satan, I was on the edge of my seat, completed absorbed as the story relentlessly unfolded. 

The concept of Angelic Psychotic Disorder (not that associated with Angelman Syndrome) as the method of gathering Satan’s army was great. The onset of the disorder striking otherwise healthy, successful, and formerly well-adjusted young men (and eventually women) was shocking and, in the story, baffling to the psychiatric medical community. I enjoyed the Dallas setting at UTSW and the Zale Lipshy facility as it is local and familiar to me (as a student, not a patient.) However, the action travels around the globe to many other real and historic places as well. 

The author builds the story on current political and economic conditions, giving it a frightening feel of reality. The comparisons of Biblical passages and current events are thought-provoking and disturbing, too. The underlying theme of the trilogy is that the real threat to all are men who use organized religion to gain political and military power.

The author’s writing style is smooth and easy to read; he tells an absolutely riveting story. While this is the third book in the Hart Trilogy, I found it easily enjoyed as a standalone with just enough backstory to lend context. 

I recommend THE HART OF GOD, THE END OF DAYS to readers of thrillers and suspense.


RABT Book Tours & PR

10-Stop All-Review Blog Tour & Giveaway: The Art of Farming by T.D. Motley


THE ART OF FARMING: A NOVEL

by T.D. MOTLEY


Fiction / Agriculture / Nature / Stewardship

Publisher: Stoney Creek Publishing

Pages: 144

Publication Date: August 26, 2024


SYNOPSIS

Sam Bartlett’s formidable antagonist has four legs. Sol, a miniature donkey, schemes daily to outwit his kindly caretaker. This delightful rural drama regales a symbiosis of plants, humans, dogs, and livestock, with wild creatures observing from secluded, weedy perimeters.  

Retired from teaching, artist Sam farms thirty acres. His popular paintings of vast prairies at sunset are selling well. He plans to market organic herbs and produce, hiring local after-school teens. Begrudgingly raised on a farm, he once swore that when he grew up, he’d never go back. Time and age break promises. 

Elysia boasts a pretty town square, complete with a handsome county courthouse. Sam’s girlfriend, Annie, is a food writer who travels a lot. Bartlett Farm is her sanctuary. 

The Art of Farming is a hopeful tale about stewardship of the land, the animals, and of each other. It honors the integrity of agriculture, as expressed in ancient literature and art. 



CLICK TO PURCHASE:

Stoney Creek Publishing | Amazon | B&N

TAMU Press | Bookshop.org



ABOUT THE AUTHOR


T.D. Motley writes about art and organic farming. Born in Beaumont, Texas, he has been drawing since the age of three. His family has farmed in Texas since the mid-19th century. For many years, he and his wife, artist Rebecca, marketed their organic, heirloom herbs and produce to North Texas chefs and farmers' market customers.

Motley is Professor Emeritus of Art and Art History at Dallas College. His drawings and paintings have been exhibited nationally and are included in numerous collections across the U.S. and Texas. He has lectured at the Dallas Museum of Art, the Umlauf Sculpture Garden and Museum in Austin, the Meadows Museum at Southern Methodist University, and the Amon Carter Museum of American Art in Fort Worth. He is a contributing author for Eutopia and ArtSpiel and has written about mid-century modern Texas artists for DB/Zumbeispiel and the Grace Museum in Abilene. Motley has received Fulbright grants to Belgium, the Netherlands, and the United Kingdom.

Motley is the past president of the board of Artist Boat, a Galveston-based nonprofit that teaches students about coastal nature through art and science. He served for several years as chair of the North Texas Fulbright Teacher Exchange Peer Review Committee. Previously, he worked as a printer in the U.S. Air Force, an illustrator for Ling-Temco-Vought Corporation, and a cartoonist for the infamous Dallas Notes from the Underground newspaper. His artworks can be seen at J. Peeler Howell Fine Art in Fort Worth.

 WEBSITE LINKEDIN INSTAGRAM  ARTSPIEL


CLICK TO VISIT THE  LONE STAR LITERARY LIFE TOUR PAGE

FOR DIRECT LINKS TO EACH BLOG PARTICIPATING IN THIS TOUR.



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Book Blast & Giveaway: The Bluff by Bonnie Traymore

THE BLUFF

by Bonnie Traymore

October 15-18, 2024 Book Blast

Synopsis:

The Bluff by Bonnie Traymore

“What do you have to lose, Kate?” Ryan asked me, as we stood on the bluff looking out on Lake Michigan.

Turns out, almost everything.

When I first moved from Manhattan to this small town six years ago, I worried about many things. I worried about finding a job. I worried that I’d be bored. I worried that my relationship with charming photographer Ryan Breslow was moving too fast. But I never worried about whether the ground beneath my feet would crumble—both literally and figuratively.

My marriage didn’t go as I’d imagined. A year ago, Ryan met his untimely death in a car accident that’s still under investigation. Isolated and alone, all I wanted was to sell my home and leave Crest Lake and its painful memories behind.

But with my home inching ever closer to the edge of the crumbling bluff, the property has become unmarketable. All of us on the lakefront have lost chunks of property, and tempers are at a boiling point about what to do next.

And now, on the evening of a contentious vote about how to fix this pressing issue, my nemesis on the shoreline committee has been murdered. I know how it looks, but it’s not what it seems. But I have to get my plan passed and cash out.

Because I do have secrets.

And they won’t stay buried forever.

Praise for THE BLUFF:

"With a slow-burn intensity that explodes into a jaw-dropping finale, this psychological thriller is both bingeworthy and delicious. Traymore is a master of layered tension, and she left me guessing until the last page."
~ Noelle W. Ihli, #1 bestselling author of Gray After Dark

"With its high-stakes plot and complex characters, the novel is a masterclass in building tension and intrigue."
~ NetGalley

"Gripping and full of surprises, The Bluff is a clever psychological suspense with layered characters and an atmospheric setting. Traymore masterfully ratchets up the tension little-by-little until the shocking, explosive end."
~ Tracey Devlyn, USA Today bestselling author

"This was a slow burn psychological suspense that heated up to a twisty, thrilling finale. A domestic thriller with a timely topic in the background. Great setting. Highly recommended."
~ NetGalley

Book Details:

Genre: Domestic Thriller, Psychological Thriller
Published by: Self/ Pathways Publishing imprint
Publication Date: September 1, 2024
Number of Pages: 277
PRINT ISBN: 979-8218417543
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Doug Mitchell takes in the shoreline of Lake Michigan, letting his Sundancer drift around in the currents. The sight of his house high atop the bluff reminds him of what’s at stake. The vote is tonight, and it’s sure to be a doozy of an evening. There’s a cool wind whipping up what little sand remains on the shrinking beach, and he can see the bare patch of earth where the southern stairs collapsed two years ago. But he feels safe and warm on the deck with the soon-to-be-setting sun still overhead, beaming down on him.

It’s not the same shoreline it was decades ago, but then the world is an ever-changing place. He knows this, although he doesn’t let on about it to most people. Right now, his mind is drifting to another place, and he feels a delightful stirring. He pictures the curve of her back. Her slender, graceful neck. The look on her face when he makes her moan. He takes another sip of his cocktail, closes his eyes, and sinks into it.

After a few minutes, a different kind of feeling washes over him. He’s dizzy. And tired. Way too tired. He’s barely had one drink. He opens his eyes, and the world appears blurry. He feels clumsy. Almost immobile. Shaking his head, he tries to snap out of it, but everything’s…

Fuzzy.

Confused.

Off.

He came out here alone, he thought, although he didn’t check the cabin before leaving the dock. A figure is standing on the deck now, too far away from him to make out who it is. It’s someone, though, and even with his mind dulled, he knows this isn’t good.

Seized with panic, he struggles to pull himself out of the quagmire. Finding a last burst of strength, he attempts to spring up and go on the offensive, but his legs are like rubber. His body rocks forward a bit, accomplishing nothing.

He sinks back into oblivion as the figure approaches.

You?

ONE

Kate

I arrive five minutes late, breathless from my run in from the parking lot. The proceedings haven’t started yet. I rush in, whip off my scarf and coat, and take a seat.

Just in time.

The stage is set for a contentious evening. Tonight, the town council will vote on the pressing issue of the failing bluff. I head up the shoreline committee, and I’ve been invited here this evening to present my plan, one of two the board will consider.

“Hi Kate,” the board member next to me says. “Glad you made it.”

She gives my shoulder a squeeze, confirming that I’ve got her vote.

“Of course,” I say. “Sorry I’m late.”

A tingling sensation creeps up my spine, and a feeling of dread squeezes my stomach like a vise. Perhaps it’s the weather. It’s early fall, but it may as well be the dead of winter. It’s bitter cold and gray, with intermittent downpours. The howling wind whipping off Lake Michigan has been keeping me up at night. It’s the same kind of weather we were having when my husband met his untimely death a year ago, which is likely stirring up some buried feelings. A widow at forty-one. Not the way I expected my life to go when I moved here six years ago.

“The meeting of the Crest Lake Township board of directors is now in session,” the president proclaims, banging his gavel with the countenance of a man desperate for power and relevance. Sam Bolger’s his name.

Sam takes role, and it’s lost on nobody that Doug Mitchell is absent. I fiddle with a strand of hair, twirling it between my fingers. It looks darker in this light, almost auburn. My eyes search the room, and hushed tones fill the silence as people whisper to each other.

Where the hell is Doug?

Are we really going to start without him?

I hope he’s okay.

His allies look concerned, naturally, but even his opponents seem troubled, although that could be an act. It would be unacceptable to show their glee, in the event they were feeling it. But I’m not feeling smug or excited or victorious. I’m feeling nervous. Doug is scheduled to present the opposing plan, and there’s no way he would miss this meeting.

Tempers have been flaring over the issue of what to do about the eroding bluff. The police had to be called during the last public hearing. And there have even been a few death threats, anonymous posts that most of us brushed off.

Silly, really. We’re all on the same team, trying to fight mother nature. Desperate to give ourselves the illusion of control. Struggling to keep our large, lakefront luxury homes from plummeting onto the shrinking shoreline that hugs the massive body of water eighty feet below the fragile bluff.

On some level, we all know that whatever we do will only be a stop-gap in the big picture of geological time, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s what’s making people so angry. Humanity’s stubborn insistence that we can bend the planet to our will. Because it’s obvious that we can’t, and perhaps it’s easier to blame each other than to face the realization that humans are at the mercy of forces we don’t really understand and can no longer control.

The president seems to be stalling, fumbling with his computer as he tries to pull up the agenda and project it onto the TV screen. The board member to my right shares a theory with me. Perhaps Doug’s pulling a stunt for dramatic effect, she whispers in my ear. Maybe the president’s in on it—he’s on Doug’s side—and Doug will come bursting in at the last minute, waving some new study in his hands. But after a few moments, it’s clear to everyone that’s not going to happen.

Sam tables the vote for the time being and moves on to other issues. The board gets to work. There are a handful of mundane items on the agenda aside from the one that matters to me. What to do about the shoreline. I wait patiently as the board members work through other business, waiting for Doug’s arrival. He’s a board member and I’m not, and I’m surprised that they didn’t ask me to sit outside.

I wonder what will happen if he doesn’t show. Will they postpone the vote, or will it go my way by default, with my proposal the only option? Item after item is addressed, and I can feel my pulse starting to race as they tick them off.

Parcel tax proposal.

New library budget.

Changes to the vacation rental rules.

My stomach is in knots. Because if the vote goes my way, it will be a Pyrrhic victory, inflicting massive economic consequences on my lake front neighbors. Doug’s plan to simply shore up the bluff at the toe, the spot where the waves hit and wear it down, is the simple one. The less expensive one. But it’s got the environmental groups up in arms. They’ve grown increasingly vocal over the last few years.

The environmentalists want to force the removal of all existing seawalls, like the one Doug Mitchell installed in front of his home, and ban all such structures. Let nature take its course. Force lakefront owners to move back their homes or demolish them if they are in danger of falling off the bluff. But none of them are on the shoreline committee, and none are on the board. And they’ll be upset whichever way it goes tonight.

My plan is a compromise of sorts. But if I win, there will be consequences. Expensive ones that will dramatically reduce some people’s property values and limit beach access for everyone. And lots of visceral anger, much of it directed at me, especially from my wealthy lakefront neighbors who will absorb most of the cost. Several million dollars, split between ten of us. Sweat beads form at my temples as the minutes tick along to the rhythm of the cheap wall clock mounted above my seat.

Why do they keep it so hot in here?

The council meets at the town center, a small, institutional structure that used to serve as a middle school. The chairs are small and uncomfortable. I sit up and twist from side to side, trying to stop my lower back from cramping up. After an hour or so, there’s nothing left on the agenda but the bluff, and I’m wondering if they’ll postpone my presentation and the vote.

A knock at the door startles us.

Police, a voice calls out.

The door opens, and a young officer enters tentatively, crouching his way into the room. It’s a tight community, and he’s likely a bit intimidated. We’re a powerful bunch. If he ran into one of us around town, I imagine he’d be deferential. But this isn’t a coffee shop or a grocery store, and this isn’t a social call.

After a moment, he straightens up, and his face registers the requisite look of authority. “Doug Michell’s been reported missing,” he says. “He went out on his boat earlier today and never returned. The Coast Guard is conducting a search.”

My stomach sinks, and gasps echo around the room. We all sit with the shocking news for a few moments as the officer bites his lower lip.

He continues. “We’re going to need to interview all of you. Detective Whittaker is on his way. Please stay seated and be patient.”

And with that, the vote is delayed.

***

Travis Whittaker leans back in his chair, eyeing me. I can see tension lines in the detective’s forehead. He seems to have aged since I last saw him, although his thick, dark head of hair reveals few strands of gray. It’s his eyes. They look heavy and full, like the weight of the world sits behind them.

He’s been working his way through the group, and I’m second-to-last. It would have been better to get it over with. Waiting around only increased the tension. Nobody really knew what to say to each other, so there was nothing but awkward silence filling the space between us as we stood in the hallway waiting for our turns to go in and be interviewed.

“So, Ms. Breslow. You arrived five minutes late,” he says.

“I just said that,” I reply, immediately regretting my sharp tone.

The detective’s nostrils flare, ever so slightly. He’s an attractive man for his age—early fifties or so—with a neatly trimmed beard and dark, haunting eyes. Right now, though, he looks menacing.

“Yes. I was about five minutes late,” I say, in a softer tone. My throat feels as if it’s about to close.

He narrows his eyes on me and I look away. I catch myself absent-mindedly stroking my neck and stop myself, placing my hands on the table top.

This feels all too familiar.

“And why were you late?”

“The rain,” I offer. “It got heavy when I was driving down Lakeside.” I tap my fingers on the table top as I search for something to add. “I had to drive more slowly.”

He nods and jots something down on his notepad. Almost everyone at the meeting had to drive down that road in the rain. It’s not a very good excuse, but it’s all I can give him.

“Did Doug Mitchell give you any indication that he was planning to miss the meeting tonight?” he asks.

“No, not at all,” I say. “We were all shocked when he didn’t show up tonight.”

“Have you heard from him today?” he asks.

I shake my head no.

“When’s the last time you had any contact with him?” he asks.

I look off to the side, struggling to keep myself focused and calm. I turn back to him. “In person?” I ask.

“In general,” Whittaker replies.

“We’ve been on the same email and text chain over the last week or so. Exchanging information, in anticipation of the vote.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I swallow. He’s already seen our text stream, I assume. “Yesterday. Around seven in the evening.”

“Was that an email or a text?”

“It was a text.”

“And what did it say?”

I pull up my phone, hold it in my palm, and let him read the exchange. His eyes rest on my last line to Doug Mitchell.

If you do that, I’ll bury you.

It would have been less stressful for me if Whittaker’s face had registered some kind of surprise. Instead, he closes his notepad and puts his pen down. I struggle to keep a neutral look on my face. Then he informs me that I can leave and asks me to send in the next board member.

I start for the door but then turn back to him. “In paperwork,” I offer. “I meant I’d bury him in paperwork.” Then I turn away again and continue to the door.

“Don’t leave town,” he calls out. “We’re sure to have more questions as the investigation develops.”

I nod and keep walking.

***

As my car winds up the dark, curvy road to my lakefront home, I struggle to steady my shaking hands. This night already had me on edge, and I can feel my pulse racing as I reach the bend in the road, near the top. The part where the drop-off is the steepest. They replaced the guardrail with another one that looks exactly the same.

What was the point of that?

Sometimes I can ignore it and drive right past. On sunny days, when the sky is bright and the birds chirp and all is well in the universe. It looks so different in the daylight. But tonight is foggy and foreboding, and I drive slowly. So slowly, I’d probably get a ticket if an officer was behind me. I don’t look to my right though, because then I have to picture it, and imagine the look of terror on his face as he plunged through the rail and over the side.

What was he thinking?

Or was he not thinking at all?

Did he scream?

Or was there no time?

A chill runs up my spine as I turn carefully around the bend and breathe a sigh of relief. Sometimes, I get a sensation that he’s in the car with me, and I can almost feel his breath on my neck. And now Doug’s missing, and I have no idea what to do next or what this means for me and my shoreline plan. All I know is I have to sell my house get out of this town, before I lose my mind.

Or worse.

***

Excerpt from The Bluff by Bonnie Traymore. Copyright 2024 by Bonnie Traymore. Reproduced with permission from Bonnie Traymore. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Bonnie Traymore

Bonnie Traymore is the Amazon International Bestselling author of six domestic/psychological thrillers. Her "popcorn thrillers" feature strong but relatable female protagonists who peel back the layers of suburban American life and give readers a peek inside. The plots explore difficult topics such as jealousy, infidelity, murder, and the impact of psychological disorders, but she also includes bits of romance and humor to lighten the mood from time to time. She's an active status member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America.

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Tuesday, October 15, 2024

One-Day Book Blitz: The Border Between Us by Rudy Ruiz


THE BORDER BETWEEN US
By Rudy Ruiz


Literary Fiction
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Pages: 256
Publication Date: August 27, 2024

SYNOPSIS

The Border Between Us is a poignant coming-of-age novel from one of the most exciting voices in fiction.

RamĂłn LĂłpez was born along the US–Mexico border but is determined to get out and embrace the American dream—and he’s not sure whether his complicated family is a help or a hindrance. As the son of immigrants, as RamĂłn grows, his admiration for his entrepreneurial father sours as he watches his dad’s dreams of success wither on the vine. RamĂłn’s mother is constantly preoccupied with his younger brother, who struggles with intellectual disabilities. And the outside world is rife with danger and temptations threatening to distract RamĂłn from his dreams of making it to New York and succeeding as an artist.

As dreams clash with reality and values conflict with desires, RamĂłn finds the American dream within his reach—but will it demand too big a sacrifice?

Award-winning author Rudy Ruiz brilliantly captures the beauty and the danger of border life as RamĂłn struggles to understand his home and his place in the world. The Border Between Us is a stunning, compassionate story about a son’s fraught relationship with his father, the challenges of pursuing a creative life when you come from humble beginnings, and the power of embracing the whole of who you are.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rudy Ruiz is the author of The Resurrection of Fulgencio Ramirez and Valley of Shadows. He is a winner of the Jesse H. Jones Award for Best Book of Fiction, the Gulf Coast Prize in Fiction, and multiple International Latino Book Awards. A bilingual native of the US–Mexico border, he earned his bachelor’s and master’s degrees at Harvard University. Rudy lives and writes in Texas and New England with his wife and children. Visit his website at RudyRuiz.com.


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Teaser Tuesday: Dark Legion Duet (Legion: University & Legion: Adult Education) by Isabella Jordan


DARK LEGION DUET
Legion: University & Legion: Adult Education
by
Isabella Jordan 


Dark Fantasy / Romance / Horror
Publication Date: October 18, 2024

SYNOPSIS:

Darkness is falling...

Things at Woods University are not what they seem. When Joey Sumner's roommate Maria joins the growing ranks of blazer-wearing supergeeks who roam the campus in emotionless packs, Joey begins to think she has a problem. Then Joey stumbles upon a secret ritual being performed on campus, and her world is turned upside down. Joey and her boyfriend Will are forced to fight for their lives against an ancient evil cult that is preying on the student body. To make matters worse, their boss is one of them, and his obsession for Joey goes way beyond thinking she has a cute ass... 

Evil is growing...

A year after the mysterious death of her husband Terrence, Ada Ross is still seeking answers. When handsome detective Eric Perfater comes back into her life offering a chance to unravel the mystery of her husband's demise, Ada is more than ready to help. She's also willing to throw off her endless loneliness and wantonly offer herself to sexy Eric in bed... But a dark shadow falls across their chance at happiness. Ada is a pawn in a desperate man's ploy to hang onto the past and take control of a secret society whose very existence threatens the entire world.

Can the forces of evil's hungry claws be defeated? Or will they all be consumed by the Dark Legion? 

Publisher's Note: This duet contains the previously published novellas Legion: University and Legion: Adult Education.

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ENJOY AN EXCERPT:

 from Legion: University


"You're late, G.I. Jane." Will Martin winked at her as she walked into the lab where they worked together and pulled the backpack from her shoulder.

Joey grinned at him, a big stupid grin no doubt, but she didn't care.

With his golden skin, sun-streaked hair and powerful body, Will was nobody's idea of a geeky scientist. Tall, handsome, with a bold nose, a sexy mouth and dark blue eyes that could glitter with humor or darken to the color of a stormy sea. Joey had never seen such a perfect blend of beauty and intelligence in any other man. In the realm of science there was no challenge he wouldn't take on, no subject he wouldn't tackle. Even Joey with her very limited knowledge of virology knew that Will was well on his way to making a difference in the world. It wouldn't surprise her if he were the one to someday find a cure for the AIDS virus, ending the suffering and death of millions. She had that much faith in him.

His brilliant mind fascinated her almost as much as his hot, muscular body and that was saying a lot. How many times had she satisfied herself while thinking about Will? How many late night dreams had he haunted? The touch of his rough hands on her aching breasts always felt so real in her dreams, so good. She'd swear that the solid length of his body between her thighs, the sensual glide of his cock in and out of her slick, ready passage were a reality while she was dreaming.

Until she woke up in a sweaty tangle of bed sheets. After several seconds of swearing and sometimes several more seconds with her vibrator, she could usually get back to sleep. But not always. Sometimes she'd lie there and think of clever ways to ask him out. A couple of times she even meant to carry out her plans to ask him out to dinner, then maybe even ask him to her bed. But she always chickened out at the last moment.

Joey grabbed her lab coat from its peg on the wall and watched Will as she slipped it on. Will had no idea that she was totally infatuated with him and she was afraid to make a move. They worked together after all. He was a brilliant scientist. She was just a girl who'd gone into the army to pay for college on the G.I. Bill and was now a way-older-than-average freshman. Joey continued to watch him as he scribbled notes on a steno pad and peered into the microscope before him, his muscular upper body straining against the lab coat he wore. How could someone like her ever hope to get the attention of someone like him?

"That's new." Dr. Rafe Bowen caught her off guard. Hooking the golden charm bracelet that circled her wrist with a long finger, he pulled her arm up to scrutinize it before releasing her.

"Yes," she said, recovering from the start. "It was a gift."

"From whom?" he asked in his clipped British accent, his hazel eyes watching her intently.

Her eyes darted to Will. But he didn't appear to be paying attention to their conversation. Damn him! "My sister," Joey answered blandly.

Rafe Bowen nodded, but continued to gaze at her speculatively. Rafe was her supervisor in the lab. He was a handsome man with his chestnut hair and well-defined, cultured features. He wasn't as tall as Will, his build average. From what little she knew of him he was probably in his early forties but he looked remarkably young for his age. He could pass for someone in his early thirties easily. It helped that he was easy to work for and generous with his time. He taught several virology courses in addition to his research.

Joey had long suspected that her boss had more than a passing interest in her. Rafe would stare at her when he thought she wasn't looking and it made Joey pretty damned uncomfortable. He'd always insisted that she call him by his given name, though she never had. But he'd given her a job when she'd given up hope of finding one. That alone had made her first year at Woods University much easier than it could have been for a twenty-five-year-old freshman.

"Why are you two here?" he asked, frowning.

Joey exchanged a glance with Will and let him answer.

"Next week is spring break," Will pointed out. "If we don't run the analysis on the Aspergillus cultures now, we'll lose them. They won't be any good when we get back."

Joey couldn't help with the analysis, wouldn't know how. She knew that Aspergillus was a mold and a respiratory allergen but that was about it.

But the money sure would come in handy.

"What about tomorrow and Friday?"

"Exams," Will and Joey answered in unison.

Rafe blew out a frustrated sigh. "You're not staying long. I have to be at a meeting in an hour."

"We'll lock up," Will assured him.

Joey's heart began thumping in earnest. Alone with Will Martin? Oh, yes, that would be fine.

Rafe's expression grew darker. It wasn't like him.

"You'll leave when I do," he said curtly. When it appeared Will was about to say something else, he added, "End of discussion."

Will's gaze followed him as Rafe marched to his office and closed the door behind him. He shook his head, giving Joey a sardonic half smile.

"What crawled up his ass today?" Will glanced up at the lab's clock, prompting her to do the same. It was five minutes to six in the evening. "Want to get started on prep?"

Joey nodded and walked to the autoclave on the counter opposite the lab door. Pulling open the door, she frowned when she found it empty.

"Crap! Someone took all the instruments I autoclaved last night," Joey grumbled. How would they have time to do anything now if she had to sterilize more instruments?

Will glanced over his shoulder at her but didn't seem concerned. "Turner probably took them for his class, that lazy asshole. Just sterilize some more. We've got time."

Joey motioned toward Rafe's office with her thumb.

"Let me worry about him." Will waved her on.

When Joey hesitated he smiled, a flash of white teeth. Her nipples tightened to hard little points in an instant.

"Go on." He motioned her to continue with her work. "How's your French class going?"

I know all the dirty words. I could recite them for you.

"I'm doing okay." Wasn't that a waste of a good conversation opener? Think! "I've really enjoyed the biology labs. The experiments have been very interesting."

"Yeah?" Will's back was to her. He kept right on with his work. "Which ones interested you the most?"

Her mind went blank. That would teach her to use something she had little interest in to get his attention. Shit! "The genetics experiments," she finally answered. She knew there had been a couple.

"I think the corn genetics experiment is the best that they offer." He paused a moment as he read over his notes. "Morten had a good idea there. Students get to germinate and grow F2 corn seeds and determine the inheritance pattern of the albino trait and what the P and F2 generations' genotypes must have been. Did you like that one?"

"I did." Joey remembered it anyway.

"We might make a scientist out of you yet." Will peered at her over his shoulder. "What are your plans for your time here? I don't think I've ever asked you that."

Her mouth went dry.

To jump your bones? 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed-out web designer, programmer, and internet junkie. When she's not trying to perfect her own personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and chatting with readers and friends.

Isabella would love to hear from her readers!

 

Author Website

 

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

 

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