Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Diversion (Probation Case Files Mystery, #3) by Cindy Goyette

DIVERSION

by Cindy Goyette

March 2 - 27, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A Probation Case Files Mystery

 

Phoenix probation officer Casey Carson could use a change of scenery to clear her head and make some major life decisions. When the opportunity arises to take on a side job wrangling juvenile delinquents on a wilderness adventure for a diversion program, she’s skeptical. But she wants to support her cousin, who was hired as a counselor. The extra cash in her pocket sweetens the deal.

Unfortunately, one of Casey’s clients—an escaped murderer after one of her charges—threatens to upend her plans. Facing wildfire, flash floods and an angry mountain lion are nothing compared to the murderous intentions in store for one of the kids.

On a crash course with the killer and with her faithful pup Felony by her side, Casey desperately tries to lead the group to safety. She doesn’t realize that her two love interests, ex-husband Betz, and hunky ex-neighbor, Marcus, are frantically looking for the group. Casey must utilize every negotiating skill she possesses to not fail, or she’ll lose all she holds dear.

Praise for Diversion:

"A breakneck adrenaline rush of wilderness adventure, emotional angst, and high personal stakes. Whether you're a fan of the Probation Case Files Mysteries or jumping in for the first time, Cindy Goyette's DIVERSION is certain to entertain!"
~ Tori Eldridge, bestselling author of KAUA‘I STORM

"With nonstop action, continually mounting stakes, and a fearless heroine, Cindy Goyette’s DIVERSION doesn't let go and will have you turning its pages well past bedtime--and not regretting it one bit in the morning."
~ Audrey Lee, Edgar and Anthony-nominated author of The Mechanics of Memory and Never to Be Told

"Casey Carson is a hands-on probation officer with a lot on her hands in Cindy Goyette's engrossing novel, DIVERSION: Two men's affections, shepherding troubled teens on a wilderness hike gone wrong, and an escaped killer on the loose closing in. A lot of balls in the air that Goyette handles masterfully, all while torquing up the tension."
~ Matt Coyle, author of the award-winning Rick Cahill crime series

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Suspense
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: February 24, 2026
Number of Pages: 320
Series: A Probation Case Files Mystery, Book 3
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Mystery Series

Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

Prologue

The girl held her breath, hoping her pounding heart wouldn’t give her away. She’d squeezed herself under her parent’s four-poster bed, between totes of out-of-season clothes. It had been her favorite place to hide when she was little… but she was almost full grown now. A stupid choice. Wouldn’t it be the first place they looked?

Fear wouldn’t let her chance a move.

The roar in her head made it difficult to hear what was happening in the other room. Still, she listened.

She knew one thing. Her parents were dead. She’d heard their pleas, their screams. Then gunshots.

Silence after that.

She fought back her tears. Swallowed hard. Held her breath.

Now, the killer was rummaging through the house. Looking for something. Looking for her.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall and then stopped at the bedroom doorway.

She clamped her hand over her mouth. Tears dripped down her cheeks, gathering at the cleft of her chin before landing soundlessly on the carpeted floor.

Scuffed black boots walked across the room and came to a stop at the foot of the bed. So close, she could reach out and touch them.

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to face her fate as it unfolded. She was next.

But a cell phone chimed, and the boots turned. The footsteps moved away and toward the door.

She opened her eyes and risked a small breath.

In her hand, she gripped the key her father had passed to her just before he’d told her to hide.

Chapter One

Six months later

I stuffed crackers in my mouth and washed them down with a Diet Coke before leaving my desk and heading for the probation department’s training room. It was early morning, and I felt like I had a killer hangover. Strange, because I’d had nothing to drink in the last few days. I’d thought about calling in sick, but I’d never done that before, and I didn’t want to ruin my perfect record. Even if no one else was keeping track.

Plus, this training was mandatory. I’d put it off until the last class offering, and I needed to get it done.

Most of the seats in the cramped room were already taken. I didn’t have a record of being on time, so I didn’t sweat it.

“Casey,” my coworker Claire called from across the room. “I saved you a seat.”

I dropped into the chair next to her, took another drink, and placed my Big Gulp on the table. “I can’t take another day of this,” I said, under my breath.

“Sorry to hear that,” the trainer said, reaching around me and placing a binder in my lap. “Just for that, you get to go first.”

I cringed. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were standing there.”

“Obviously not.” The trainer walked over to the dry-erase board, picked up a marker, and opened the cap with a flourish. I didn’t know her well, but she was on the fast track to becoming a supervisor. I also didn’t know she hated me until now. “So, Casey, give us your greatest weakness.”

Right now, it was my stomach. The leftover burrito I’d eaten for dinner last night must have been spoiled, but that wasn’t what she meant. I hated this question. The goal was to name something that you could turn into a strength. Nothing came to mind.

Hands shot up around the room. Apparently, not the case for those around me.

“Impatient,” someone yelled.

“Opinionated!”

“Sarcastic!”

“Workaholic!”

The trainer couldn’t write fast enough.

“Okay, that’s plenty,” I said. I loved my job but clearly had to work on my reputation.

The list was moving into a second column when my work cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out. Betz, my ex-husband. Well, he was more than that, but I’d pumped the brakes on reconciling while I figured some things out. Still, taking his call was a good excuse to escape the room and the assassination of my character my peers were treating like a game show. “Gotta take this’” I got to my feet and hurried from the room. “It’s a detective.”

“Evasive,” someone added to the list before I silenced them by closing the door. I answered as I walked down the hall. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt your day,” Betz said. I could picture him rubbing the back of his neck. Didn’t matter what he was calling about, most times when we talked, he rubbed his neck, shook his head, and I’m pretty sure his blood pressure rose. And yet, he wanted us to get back together. If we reconciled, he’d probably stroke out at the young age of thirty-five from the stress I caused him. Still, he loved me.

“No problem,” I said. “You’re saving me from a painful day of training. Please tell me you have something that can get me out of finishing the class.”

“You supervise Martin Phillips?”

“I do.”

“He’s a suspect in a double murder that happened six months ago. Think it’s over drug money. We want to take him into custody, but we don’t want to spook him since he's armed and dangerous. Think you can trick him into showing himself?”

My adrenaline kicked in, stomach problems vanishing. A double murder was nothing to sneeze at. And if it had happened months ago, before he was on probation, there was nothing I could have done to stop it. Now we had to get my client off the street. “I can text him. Tell him I need to do a field visit, and I need him to be home.”

Typically, we didn’t warn our clients we were coming. But sometimes, if we had enough failed attempts, we’d set something up. Anyway, Phillips was fairly new on supervision. He didn’t know the drill. But he knew we had to do regular home visits, and he was due. He’d probably fall for it.

“That should work,” Betz said. “Gear up, and I’ll meet you at the employee entrance in ten.”

I disconnected the call and took the stairs two at a time to my cubicle. I loved playing with cops. Although I never wanted to be one. Too much blood and guts for me.

***

Excerpt from Diversion by Cindy Goyette. Copyright 2026 by Cindy Goyette. Reproduced with permission from Cindy Goyette. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Cindy Goyette is a former probation officer who had a front-row seat to the criminal justice system. She kept her sanity by finding humor in most situations. A mix of these things helped her create The Probation Case Files Mystery Series. Book one, OBEY ALL LAWS, won a Public Safety Writer’s Association award, and it has been a finalist for Lefty and Silver Falchion Awards. Book two: EARLY TERMINATION released in 2025. She also authors The Wiggle Butt Manor Mystery series. DIAMOND IN THE RUFF is book one. After spending over twenty years in Arizona, Cindy lives in Washington state with her husband and two Cocker Spaniels.

Catch Up With Cindy Goyette:

ccgoyette.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @ccgoyettewriter
Instagram - @cindy.goyette
Threads - @cindy.goyette
X - @cindy_ccgoyette
Facebook - Cindy Goyette, Author

 

Tour Participants:

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Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

No Mystery Here—Just A Great Prize!

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

DIVERSION by Cindy Goyette | Gift Card

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Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: The Fatal Saving Grace (Ed Earl Burch Hard-Boiled Texas Crime Thriller, #5) by Jim Nesbitt

THE FATAL SAVING GRACE

by Jim Nesbitt

February 9 - March 6, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

ED EARL BURCH HARD-BOILED TEXAS CRIME THRILLER 

MAYHEM WITH A BADGE

After wandering the peephole wilderness of a private detective for two decades, defrocked Dallas homicide detective Ed Earl Burch is finally an official manhunter again, wearing the badge of a district attorney's investigator working in the harsh desert mountains of West Texas.

Big D, it ain't. And life as a resurrected lawman isn't everything he hoped it would be. Too many rules. Not enough satisfaction. And a boss who hates him for saving his life.

But Burch is back, playing the same deadly game he mastered as a murder cop, tracking a serial killer who tortured and murdered his ex-lover with a straight razor—an Aryan Brotherhood gang leader Burch thought he killed in a desert shootout.

He's also trying to protect the fugitive granddaughter of an old friend and her four-year-old son—from this remorseless killer and cartel gunsels hired by her incestuous Dixie Mafia daddy.

Throats get slashed. Bullets smack flesh. Bodies drop. And Ed Earl Burch and his partner, Bobby Quintero, are in reckless pursuit, dodging death, closing in on their prey.

No place Burch would rather be. Unless he gets killed.

Praise for The Fatal Saving Grace:

The Fatal Saving Grace is the Independent Press Award Distinguished Favorite for Action/Adventure 2026

"Nesbitt delivers a scorched-earth tale where every shadow conceals an ambush and every road bleeds history. He paints West Texas in colors of rust, smoke and whiskey, and the result is a story that feels carved in stone. This is cowboy noir at its finest."
~ Baron Birtcher, Will Rogers Medallion winning author of Knife River

"Ed Earl Burch, who's partial to Lucky Strikes and Maker's Mark, makes Mike Hammer look like Miss Marple. Jim's novels offer wicked humor, an eye for detail, brass-knuck action and language that would strip the paint off a Hummer."
~ Noel Holston, author of Life After Deaf and As I Die Laughing

"Jim Nesbitt knows his Texas crime and writes one fine line at a time. Hard-boiled with prickly pears, old leather boots, a bit of tobacco, freshly spit of course, he gets it right."
~ Joe R. Lansdale, champion mojo storyteller and author of the Hap 'N Leonard crime thrillers

"A gritty and deadly must-read, THE FATAL SAVING GRACE cements Nesbitt’s standing among the best writers in the pantheon of Southern noir."
~ Bruce Robert Coffin, bestselling author of the Detective Justice Mysteries

"Ed Earl Burch is back, and that’s great news for readers who love classic hard-boiled noir, colorful characters, crackling dialogue and plenty of action. Highly recommended!"
~ R.G. Belsky, author of the Gil Malloy and Clare Carlson mysteries

"Some would call it justice. Some would call it revenge. No matter what you call it, the concept has been a long running theme of the Ed Earl Burch series. The same is very much true in the fifth book of the series, The Fatal Saving Grace: An Ed Earl Burch Novel by Jim Nesbitt."
~ 'Ace Texas book reviewer' Kevin Tipple

Book Details:

Genre: Hard-Boiled Crime Fiction, Western
Published by: Spotted Mule Press
Publication Date: December 15, 2025
Number of Pages: 301
ISBN: 9780998329482 (ISBN10: 0998329487)
Series: Ed Earl Burch Hard-Boiled Texas Crime Thriller, Book 5 | Each is a Stand-Alone Thriller
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Ed Earl Burch Novels, 1-4

The Last Second Chance Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

The Right Wrong Number Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

The Best Lousy Choice Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

The Dead Certain Doubt Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

From Chapter 1

When a man gets hit by a .45 ACP Flying Ashtray or three, by all that's ballistically holy, he ought to get dead and stay dead.

All manner of official paperwork swore he was dead. All of it based on a bogus death certificate filed by parties unknown in the Cuervo County Coroner's Office, with copies popping up like blowflies on a cow carcass. Even the federales had him playing poker with the Devil, his prison mugshot tucked away in ATF and DEA files, DECEASED stamped across his face in bold, black letters.

The con was slick and easy. Money changed hands, files were swapped or ditched, reports were shredded or faked. Somebody else's corpse became him. The relentless power of bureaucratic incompetence and inertia did the rest.

Yessir. According to all that yellowing, lawdog paper, he was nobody they had to worry about no more. Finito. A shade. A ghost who said adios. A good thug now that he was a dead thug. Muerto.

Not hardly.

That's what John Wayne said to all those hombres who thought he was dead in Big Jake. With a growl and a scowl.

Not hardly.

He liked that. Matter of fact, he just trotted out the Duke's line to a guy he used to be tight with. Caught up to him climbing the three cinder block steps to the front door of his desert double wide.

Tapped him on the shoulder, saw the wild-eyed fear when the dude turned and saw who the finger belonged to. Blurted out: "You're supposed to be dead!"

Not hardly. Said it with a growl but no scowl. Then grabbed him by a greasy hank of raven black hair, yanking his head back and cutting a crimson smile across his throat from ear to ear. With a bone-handled straight razor. His favorite.

Threw the guy into the sand at the side of the steps. Listened to the choking gurgle and death rattle. Then licked the blood off the blade.

Not hardly. He tilted his head back and laughed. Savored the kill. Alone and alive. An endless dome of stars glittering in the midnight sky above the rocky desert outback near Radium Springs, New Mexico. No moon. A dead man at his feet. Used to be a member of his crew. Frankie Sheridan.

Met him at Pelican Bay. An Alice Baker brother doing a long stretch for bank robbery. Had a shamrock tattooed on his chest with the initials AB in capital letters—Alice Baker, Aryan Brotherhood. Blood in, blood out. Ex-Army. Knew his way around diesels, alarm systems, and weapons.

Sent him a ticket to Texas when he got out. Made him a member of his crew, smuggling guns and drugs out of a ranch north of Faver, the Cuervo County seat, a bent outfit that ran cattle for cover and fleeced bitter and gullible white trash while promising them the return of the Republic of Texas for Caucasian Christians only, a New Zion based on God, guns, guts, and the Good Book. Niggers, Jews, Arabs, and Spics need not apply.

Bad move. Frankie was a ratfuck snitch. Uno chivato. Not to the lawdogs. Just as bad, though. Frankie sold him out to a rival outfit of gunrunners and drug smugglers. Kept them one step ahead of him as they chased a third outfit that held a cache of stolen military hardware everybody wanted.

Rockets, bloopers, mortars, and full-auto carbines and rifles. Bang-bangs that could tip the scales on both sides of the river. All in the hands of a crew fronted by a flashy woman in jeans, tall boots, a bolero jacket, and a blonde wig. A wet dream for the pendejos she hustled.

La Güera. Just the thought of her caused his molars to grind. He wanted her dead. No, he needed her dead. She and her lover were the reason his life got flushed into the sewer, his crew dead, his stash of guns and drugs long gone. Had him climbing out of the shitter, clawing to the top of the dung heap. Again.

He caught the lover. Sliced off his manhood. Slit his throat. Then chopped off his head and butchered his body to stuff into a giant barbecue smoker. Tucked the man's jewels into his mouth as the crowning touch to a cannibal's mesquite-smoked delight.

Not the same. Didn't have her. She still needed to feel his blade, feel his eyes boring holes into hers as he gave her that crimson smile. He needed to lick her blood off that sharp stainless steel. Taste it. And grin. Only then would the circle be complete. He'd be whole again.

Well, not completely whole.

His right eye was gone, blown out by a glancing hit from one of those .45 ACP slugs that also shattered the orbital bones. Nothing extensive plastic surgery, bone implants and a new glass eye couldn't cure. Had to stack plenty of cash up front to repair damage that severe.

Gave that part of his face a waxy texture straight out of Madame Tussauds. But it sure beat wearing an eye patch and the lopsided face of a Dick Tracy cartoon villain.

His left knee was also shattered, replaced with a titanium joint that allowed him to walk with only a slight limp. Another five-figure hit to his stash of greenbacks.

The man who fired those rounds was also on his payback list. An ex-cop. Big-ass older fucker with a gray beard. Said to be a washed-up Dallas P. I..

Beg to differ, sir. Sumbitch sure kept him from getting to her during that clusterfuck in the West Texas desert. A real Wild West shootout between rival drug gangs wanting the blonde bitch's bang-bangs.

He was oh-so-close to grabbing her up, dodging bullets and bodies, closing the gap between him and Ol' Dude, who was carrying the bitch draped over his right shoulder. He screamed her name and leveled an M-16A1 at the both of them.

"La Güeraaaaaaa! I got you, bitch! Got you now! Gonna slice you wide open and watch you bleeeeeeed!"

Ol' Dude spun on his heel and emptied a 1911 mag at him offhand. Yelled this: "Not today, you cockbite motherfucker. Not in this lifetime or the next." A lefty. On target without dropping the bitch. Only thing that kept him alive was a Kevlar vest that caught the Flying Ashtrays that would have shredded his chest.

Washed-up, my ass. The man wrecked me. His time was coming, though. Count on a reckoning. Soon. But not now. He was working his way up the ladder of a list he kept in his head. One body at a time.

Frankie was the bottom rung. La Güera was at the top with Ol' Dude second. Five other rungs between Frankie and them.

Time to get gone. And get busy.

***

Excerpt from The Fatal Saving Grace by Jim Nesbitt. Copyright 2025 by Jim Nesbitt. Reproduced with permission from Jim Nesbitt. All rights reserved.

 

 

Review:

5 stars!

Gritty and gutsy from page one! 

The Fatal Saving Grace is the fifth book in author Jim Nesbitt’s thrilling, gritty, and gutsy Ed Earl Burch series, featuring the titular former Dallas PI, now wearing a gold shield for the Cuervo County District Attorney. A serial killer is on a mission, tying up loose ends and seeking revenge for those who crossed him. Burch and his partner from the sheriff’s office, Deputy Bobby Quintero, are tracking down their own loose ends, those responsible for a gruesome murder, as their paths converge. 

This story solidly hits the ground running, with action that is tough and shockingly brutal. No quarter is given on either side as Burch does what it takes to track down a killer. Just as the action is unflinching, so is the dialogue. Burch’s words are as unfiltered as his Lucky Strikes. These are hard men talking to other hard men, working a job that requires that type of toughness to succeed and survive. Set in a dry, dusty, and dangerously remote area of West Texas, the author’s vivid imagery had me feeling the heat, the gritty sweat, and the thirst that is a constant companion in those parts. 

While the tale unfolds, there are numerous references to past events from the previous books; some of the characters involved linger on in the present. However, this book stands alone; having read the prior novels, though, would be a bonus (and besides, they’re well worth going back and picking up!). 

I recommend THE FATAL SAVING GRACE to readers who favor harder, tougher stories, grittier crime fiction tales, fans of the previous books in the series, and stories set in West Texas.

Author Bio:

Jim Nesbitt has the perfect radio face, bionic knees that can grind coffee beans and tell time and a cat who poaches his cigars and uses his cellphone to place bets on British soccer. He is also a recovering journalist who once chased politicians, neo-Nazis, hurricanes, rodeo cowboys, plane wrecks and the everyday people swept up in a news event who gave his stories depth, authenticity and a distinct voice.

A lapsed horseman, pilot, journalist and saloon sport with a keen appreciation of old guns, vintage cars, red meat, good cigars, aged whisky without an 'e' and a well-told story, Nesbitt is also the award-winning author of five hard-boiled Texas crime thrillers that feature battered but relentless Dallas PI Ed Earl Burch -- THE LAST SECOND CHANCE, THE RIGHT WRONG NUMBER, THE BEST LOUSY CHOICE, THE DEAD CERTAIN DOUBT and THE FATAL SAVING GRACE.

A diehard Tennessee Vols fan, he now lives in enemy territory -- Athens, Alabama -- with his wife, Pam, and is working on his sixth Ed Earl Burch novel, THE PERFECT TRAIN WRECK. When he's off his meds, he's been known to call himself Reverend Jim and preach the Gospel of Hard-Boiled Crime Fiction.

Catch Up With Jim Nesbitt:

www.JimNesbittBooks.com
Jim's Substack - @edearl56
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @edearl56
Instagram - @edearl74
Threads - @edearl74
Facebook - @edearlburchbooks

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win!

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Join In On This Hard‑Boiled Texas Noir Giveaway:

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

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Cover Reveal: Marked by the Alpha (Tolstone Wolf Shifters, #1) by Sheritta Bitikofer

Marked by the Alpha

Tolstone Wolf Shifters, Book One

by

Sheritta Bitikofer

Adult Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Tule Publishing

Publication date: June 11, 2026

Page count: 331 pages

SYNOPSIS:

An alpha with a storied legacy. An independent woman rebuilding after grief. Forbidden desire—for only one is human….

After her mother’s death, photographer Erica Barrett, buys a home she and her mother obsessed over during her childhood in the quaintly historical town of Tolstone. Her magnetic next door neighbor intrigues and disturbs her. The sensual pull feels otherworldly.

Wolf shifter Dominic Beaumont never wanted to be the prime alpha of the sanctuary city, Tolstone, but when his father dies, he’s forced to step up as pack leader and prime alpha over all the wolf packs sheltering in his town. Erica’s arrival is dangerous. The attraction is fierce and instant, but duty comes first.

When revelations about Erica’s past and parentage create chaos, and she questions everything she thought she knew about herself, Dominic is her strength. But as tension builds in the pack, and his leadership is challenged, love becomes a risk that could cost him his authority, his people, and everything he’s sworn to protect.

Perfect for readers craving illicit wolf-shifter romance filled with fate, secrets, rebellion and an alpha willing to risk everything for love.

Add to Goodreads / Pre-order

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Sheritta Bitikofer writes paranormal romance with a particular fondness for wolf shifters and witches. Her stories are driven by one guiding belief: love inspires courage. Through fierce romances, unbreakable pack bonds, and the magic of covens and family, her characters fight for the lives—and loves—they deserve. Sheritta lives in northwest Florida, where she drinks far too much coffee and joyfully balances life as a wife and mother while crafting her next heartfelt paranormal love story.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Eyes to Deceit (The Company Files, #4) by Gabriel Valjan

EYES TO DECEIT

by Gabriel Valjan

February 23 - March 20, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

THE COMPANY FILES: 4 

Espionage is easy. Living with it isn’t.

The Company named it Operation Ajax. MI6 labeled it Boot. History would call it a coup.

Walker calls it the beginning of the end.

1953. The Company is orchestrating the overthrow of Iran’s elected leader—an operation cloaked in propaganda and alliances. In Rome, Walker is stationed with Leslie, former M16 and now Company agent, and tasked to coordinate efforts between the US and UK. But when resources on the ground become a liability, Walker is forced to make a difficult decision—one that threatens to unravel what’s left of his conscience.

As the coup’s first attempt crumbles and Washington grows desperate, old loyalties shift. Allen Dulles wants results. Kim Roosevelt wants glory. Darbyshire feels left out. And Walker begins to suspect he’s not there to help win the Cold War, but to prove he can stomach it.

From Missouri to Rome to the Catskills to Tehran, EYES TO DECEIT explores postwar American idealism—and the spies who find themselves too loyal, too late, to walk away clean.

For readers of le Carré, Furst, Kanon, and Vidich this is espionage at its most personal—and most perilous.

Praise for EYES TO DECEIT:

"A remarkable, fly-on-the-wall story of Cold War realpolitik, Gabriel Valjan’s EYES TO DECEIT careens from Rockefeller Center to a Catskill resort to Rome and Tehran, giving readers a front-row seat to the plotting of the 1953 CIA and MI6 overthrow of the Iranian government. With noteworthy cameos from the famous, the powerful, and the ruthless, EYES TO DECEIT is intelligent, high-stakes intrigue at its best."
~ James W. Ziskin, Author of the Anthony, Barry, and Macavity award-winning Ellie Stone mysteries

"The burdens of history and secrecy weigh heavily, gracing this excellent historical espionage novel with a gritty, nuanced, and ominous sensibility where betrayal is always possible. Even that of your own soul."
~ James R. Benn, author of the Billy Boyle WWII mystery series

Book Details:

Genre: Literary Noir, Historical Fiction, Classic Spy Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: November 4, 2025
Number of Pages: 212 pages, Paperback
ISBN: 9798898200510, Paperback
Series: The Company Files, Book 4
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

The Company Files

The Good Man Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

The Naming Game Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

The Devil's Music Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

Tania moved fast, her shoes clicked sharply on the floor. She fished a five-dollar bill from her clutch and approached a housekeeper in the hallway.

“A roll of toilet paper, and in a discreet bag, please.”

The woman hesitated, but Tania’s eyes were steady, unblinking. She slid the bill into the woman’s shoulder strap with practiced ease.

“Take it,” Tania said softly. “In case someone accuses you of theft.”

The woman nodded.

Ruth led the way. Tania followed, her mind already ahead, calculating the next move. In the bathroom, she locked the door and leaned against the wall. She heard Judith’s groans.

“It’s me, Judy.”

“Tania?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

The air was thick with sweat and nausea, sharp like unchanged hospital linens. Tania handed Ruth the roll of paper and a small perfume atomizer.

“Tell her it’s from London. She’ll like it.”

Ruth nodded and slipped into the stall.

Tania stepped back into the hallway, then stopped. A girl sick and humiliated in a stall behind her. She caught her reflection in a wall sconce—lipstick fine, hair in place, eyes clear.

Decide now.

This wasn’t strategy. She wasn’t gaining leverage. And still, her feet moved.

When she returned, Judith was pale, shaken, but upright. Tania offered her the drink.

“Peppermint helps nausea,” she said.

Judith studied her. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.”

“There’s no game,” Tania said. “You have to believe me.”

Judith hesitated. “You and your uncle seem awfully interested in my father.”

Tania unwrapped a mint. “It’s a secret,” she said. “Just not the kind you think.”

She leaned in. “The government wants something your father owns or controls. Sheldon’s the go-between.”

Judith stared at her. “That sounds shady.”

“It might be.”

Judith exhaled. “They spiked my drink. Esther and those girls. Laxatives.”

Tania nodded. “Brutal.”

Silence settled between them.

Tania met her eyes.

“Want revenge?”

Judith smiled.

And didn’t say no.

***

Excerpt from Eyes to Deceit: The Company Files by Gabriel Valjan. Copyright 2025 by Gabriel Valjan. Reproduced with permission from Gabriel Valjan. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Gabriel Valjan is the author of The Company Files, and the Shane Cleary Mysteries with Level Best Books. He has been nominated for the Agatha, Anthony, Derringer, and Silver Falchion awards. He received the 2021 Macavity Award for Best Short Story, and the Shamus Award for Best PI in 2023. Gabriel is a member of the Historical Novel Society, ITW, MWA, and Sisters in Crime. He lives in Boston and answers to a tuxedo cat named Munchkin.

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Goodreads
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Instagram - @gabrielvaljan
BlueSky - @gvaljan.bsky.social

 

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Book Tour & Giveaway: The Golden Sword (Silistra Quartet, #2) by Janet Morris

Estri battles to regain her identity after being denied her memories by her captor.

Will love find a way?

The Golden Sword

The Silistra Quartet Book 2

by

Janet Morris

Genre: Dystopian / Epic / SciFi / Fantasy / Romance

Dystopia. Biology shapes reality. The further adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in the galaxies of tomorrow.

She had the power to create planets. The sixty carved bones of the Yris-tera foretold her ancient fate. Her heritage of power took her beyond time and space and stole from her the one man she loved.

Enslaved on the planet Silistra tomorrow's most beautiful courtesan unleashes the powers of the gods.

 

What readers are saying:

 

“Pure excellence…. A heroic quest of the highest calibre.” - Goodreads

 

“This is a book which makes one’s blood sing and one’s mind ponder. I loved the first in the series and enjoyed this as much, perhaps more. The ending leaves the reader desperate to know what happens to Estri next – courtesan, slave, warrior, lover, rebel. What is next for our heroine?” – Goodreads

 

“Call it what you like: science fiction, space opera, sword and planet or erotic fantasy . . . The Golden Sword is all these things, and so much more. A highly intelligent and sensual novel filled with ideas and revelations, this is a gripping story that explores human sexuality and the role it plays in politics. Although the memorable characters are bisexual, toss away all your preconceived notions, for there is a humanity, a strength of will and determination, a realism and depth of emotion to these characters that will have you thinking twice about all you know and all you think you know. This is a book for mature and discerning readers who like some meat on the bones of the books they read. Janet Morris led the way for all the science fiction authors, both male and female, who came after. “ – Joe Bonadonna, Goodreads

 

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I wondered what it meant, to be a “ten,” as the crellkeep chose a spot apparently like any other upon one chain and fastened me to it by means of heavy metal anklets that were spaced along its length.

“I put you next to Aje. You will sleep through the nights,” he informed me, as if I should be grateful for some thoughtful service. Seeing me safely bound, the two jiasks turned and left the chamber.

“What is your name?” the crellkeep asked.

I almost told him, but caught myself. It took me a moment to remember the crell name Chayin had given me.

“Miheja,” I said finally.

“Meh-he-ya,” the crellkeep corrected me gently. “The Eastmost Star’s Daughter. Suits you. So you have the dharener entranced, do you? A ten, indeed. Crell life is no burden to one so highly numbered.” He stood up, rubbing his back, “I go to get Aje. You will like him. They all do,” he said and patted my naked shoulder. Moments later I was alone in the deserted ever-dusk of the crellpits. A single torch burned at the chamber’s entry, throwing life into the feature- less rock walls.

I crawled the length of my tether, and by lying stretched out could just get my fingers upon the central ring. I tested its strength, as had countless crells before me. There was no weakness in it. I had expected none. I then examined each link of my chains with my fingers, to see if perhaps somewhere there was one unsoldered among them. There was no error among the 387 links that bound me firmly to the central ring. Its twin was sunk where the cold stone floor met the wall behind me. Perhaps there was a weakness in that area, but I had not enough tether to explore it. I lay down upon my left side and curled my knees against my chest. I could not think. I merely lay there.

High Couch of Silistra

The Silistra Quartet Book 1

Biology shapes reality...

One woman's mythic search for self-realization in a distant tomorrow...

Her sensuality was at the core of her world, her quest beyond the civilized stars.

Aristocrat. Outcast. Picara. Slave. Ruler.

"Engrossing characters in a marvelous adventure." - Charles N. Brown, Locus Magazine

"The amazing and erotic adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in tomorrow's universe"

- Frederik Pohl

"The best single example of prostitution used in fantasy is Janet Morris' Silistra series... Estri's character is most like that of Ishtar who describes herself as "'a prostitute compassionate am I'" because she "symbolizes the creative submission to the demands of instinct, to the chaos of nature ...the free woman, as opposed to the domesticated woman". Linking Estri with these lunar and water symbols is not difficult because of the moon's eternal virginity (the strength of integrity) links with her changeability (the prostitute's switching of lovers). [...]

Morris strengthens the moon imagery by having Estri as a well-keepress because wells, fountains, and the moon as the orb which controls water have long been associated with fertility, [...] In a sense, she is like the moon because she is apparently eternal, never waxing or waning except in her pursuit of the quest; she is the prototypical wanderer like the moon and Ishtar. She is the eternal night symbol of the moon in opposition to the Day-Keepers [...]

 At her majority (her three hundredth birthday), she is given a silver-cubed hologram letter from her mother, containing a videotape of her conception by the savage bronzed barbarian god from another world. [...] If Estri's mother then acts as a bawd, willing her lineage as Well-Keepress to her daughter, then Estri's great-grandmother Astria as foundress of the Well becomes a further mother-bawd figure when she offers her prophetic advice in her letter: "Guard Astria for you may lose it, and more. Beware of one who is not as he seems. Stray not in the port city of Baniev ...look well about you, for your father's daughter's brother seeks you". Having no brother that she knows of does not stay Estri from undertaking the heroic quest of finding her father."

 - Anne K. Kaler, The Picara: From Hera to Fantasy Heroine

 

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I am Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, former Well-Keepress of Astria on the planet Silistra. I have begun three times to tell this story, and three times I have been interrupted. This, then, the fourth attempt, will surely prove successful.

Perhaps you have heard of Silistra, the planet that was catalyst to the sexual revolution in the year twenty-two thousand, seven hundred and four Bipedal Federate Standard Time, or of the Silistran serums that lengthen life and restore vitality in virtually any bipedal life form, or perhaps you have at some time contracted the services of a Silistran telepath, or a precognitive, or a deep reader. It is possible that you have in your own home the scintillating, indestructible web-cloth woven by our domestic arachnids, or have seen holograms of our golachits, those intelligent builder-beetles who exude from their mouths a translucent, superhard substance called gol and create from this gol, under the guidance of the chit-guards, the formidable and resplendent structures in which we live and work.

And perhaps you have seen no web-cloth, no gol, never been ill, and are not interested in sex. If so, you may never have heard of Silistra.

I carry Silistra in my mind’s eye, here under this alien sun. In my mind alone can I look out the east window of my beloved exercise hall in Well Astria and see the sun’s rising burst upon the jewel-like towers and keeps of the Inner Well and a thousand rainbows arc and dance in the greening sky.

Bestselling author Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris Morris or others. She contributed short fiction to the shared universe fantasy series, Thieves World, in which she created the Sacred Band of Stepsons, a mythical unit of ancient fighters modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes. She created, orchestrated, and edited the Bangsian fantasy series Heroes in Hell, writing stories for the series as well as co-writing the related novel, The Little Helliad, with Chris Morris. She wrote the bestselling Silistra Quartet in the 1970s, including High Couch of Silistra, The Golden Sword, Wind from the Abyss, and The Carnelian Throne. This quartet had more than four million copies in Bantam print alone, and was translated into German, French, Italian, Russian and other languages. In the 1980s, Baen Books released a second edition of this landmark series. The third edition is the Author's Cut edition, newly revised by the author for Perseid Press. Most of her fiction work has been in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

Janet said: 'People often ask what book to read first. I recommend "I, the Sun" if you like ancient history; "The Sacred Band," a novel, if you like heroic fantasy; "Lawyers in Hell" if you like historical fantasy set in hell; "Outpassage" if you like hard science fiction; "High Couch of Silistra" if you like far-future dystopian or philosophical novels. I am most enthusiastic about the definitive Perseid Press Author's Cut editions, which I revised and expanded.'

  

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Perseid Press

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Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: The First to Die by Suzanne Trauth

THE FIRST TO DIE

by Suzanne Trauth

February 9 - March 6, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Connie Tucker, a free-spirited beach bartender, has been estranged from her family in New Jersey ever since her actress mother, Simone, disappeared one night during a violent storm at the theatre where she was rehearsing. Uncontrollable and in a rage at the loss of her parent, fifteen-year-old Connie is exiled to California, due to her delinquent behavior, to live with an aunt she doesn’t know. Now, fifteen years later, Simone’s murdered remains are discovered at a construction site and Connie returns to the east coast for the funeral—she owes it to her mother. The cold case unit will take over now and solve the crime. But then she discovers a message her mother left behind. It feels like a dispatch from the grave. Connie must face her tortured past, the guilt of concealing a devastating secret, and the part she played in her mother's disappearance. Unearthing buried family history and childhood demons, she confronts the agonizing reality that she doesn’t know where she belongs, where to call home. Who to trust. When a second suspicious death occurs, Connie races to unravel the events of the night Simone disappeared. Her mother was the first to die…but not the last.

Book Details:

Genre: Domestic Suspense
Published by: Between the Lines Publishing
Publication Date: November 18, 2025
Number of Pages: 334 (Pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-965059-65-4
Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Between the Lines Publishing

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

Now

“They found Mom. You need to come home.”

Her older sister Gaby wasn’t one to waste words.

Connie should have been relieved, comforted, something. Unfortunately, it was fifteen years too late for that. And anguish she had buried deep in her body, and mind, erupted with a vengeance.

She cooled her heels in San Diego until the last possible moment to return for the funeral. The less time spent there, the better. New Jersey triggered chilling images tethered to that night. To the last time she saw her mother.

The plane thumped to earth, delivering Connie Tucker to the past with a bounce. Everything about this state was a rude wake-up call. She couldn’t wait to board the return flight to California. At fifteen, she left New Jersey in a rage, thrown out of the only home she’d known, dumped thousands of miles away on a relative she’d never met. Nerves twitching, her insides were a stew of anxiety and bitterness, wondering how people here would react to seeing her. Connie shook her head to tamp down the unruly thoughts and scold herself. They were the ones who should be nervous.

Down the parkway in the rental car, exit onto Lenox, right onto Mercer, left onto Third Street. Past Antonio’s Pizza where she and Gaby bought slices on their way home from school because who knew what their mother would cook for dinner. Past the playground attached to St. Gabriel’s. At the corner of Mercer and Third, a few patrons ambled in and out of a bodega. The street was mostly empty. Her heart bounced in her chest.

42 Third Street. She lowered the car window, her breathing shallow at the sight of the ancient Lincoln in the driveway. The blue paint polished and gleaming. “Buy American” was her father’s motto when Connie was a kid. The same automobile she and her best friend Brigid had “borrowed” until Gaby blew the whistle on her. Grounding was followed by exile two months later. She swallowed raging emotions—love, hate, sadness. If Connie closed her eyes, her parents magically materialized on the porch swing, creaking steadily back and forth on warm summer nights. Sometimes Uncle Charlie sat on the steps and the three of them drank beer, Charlie telling stories and her father laughing. But that was before.

Connie stepped out of the car and surveyed the neighborhood. Much had changed and much had remained the same. Down the block, Porter’s Bar and Grill still boasted the neon signs out front advertising beer, wine, and food. After his stint on the police force, and her mother’s disappearance, her father found employment at the bar—back then a hangout for current and former cops, a nerve center for law enforcement chatter. Old Man Porter was fond of her father, of the whole Tucker family.

Despite the sun shining in a brilliant blue sky, the area was tinged with gray. Sunny in San Diego and sunny in Hallison, New Jersey were two different animals. But even worn out as it was, her Jersey home beckoned, a magnet luring Connie into a tangle of sensations and history. Part of her, she hated to admit, yearned to be here again, but before nostalgia could overwhelm her, she stiffened her resolve: do her duty to her mother and then back to the other coast.

The day was already sweltering, humid air like a wet sheet clinging to Connie, her bangs plastered to her forehead, her shirt dotted with damp patches. Urban smells permeated the neighborhood—exhaust, heat shimmering off the pavement, cooking odors. Third Street radiated a kind of shabby warmth despite reopening sharp wounds. As she climbed the steps to her family’s front door, a voice boomed behind her.

“Connie Tucker!”

She whirled to her left. “Rosa!” she sputtered. Rosa Delano. Standing on her front porch. Daughter of the next-door neighbor, Mrs. Delano, whose front yard featured neat flower beds and trimmed bushes. The woman who’d been a kind of second mother after Connie’s first one disappeared.

“Yeah, that’s me.” A cigarette dangled from between bloodless lips, graying hair a tangle of frizz, her expression sullen.

She’d aged. And not well.

Rosa smirked. “Came home ’cause they found your old lady, huh? Si-mone.” Hands stuffed in jeans pockets, she extended the second syllable to mock the dead woman. “Bunch a bones by now, I guess.”

Connie’s stomach lurched, her fingers forming a fist. Attack mode. Breathe, she told herself. Stay in control. She’d forgotten how mean Rosa could be. In and out of the Delano house when Connie was growing up. Sometimes gone for months, once even for a whole year. Neighborhood gossip churned out tales of Rosa’s arrests for petty, and not-so-petty, crimes, their father warning Gaby and Connie to stay clear of her. That was easy to do since she was away for much of their pre-teen years.

“Wonder who buried her? Si-mone.”

Connie refused to take the bait. The hell with her. “Tell your mother I’ll stop by later.”

“Fat chance. You keep away from her.” Rosa opened her screen door. “Guess you figured Si-mone was still alive all these years, huh?”

The question split the air like the crack of a whip, jerking Connie’s head backwards. “How dare you talk about my—”

Rosa laughed in triumph. “Ha! Listen to you. ‘How dare you?’ Always did act like you were better than everybody else. Always had to have your own way.” She slouched into the Delano house and let the screen door slap shut behind her.

Heart hammering, Connie was left to wonder probably for the thousandth time how sweet, generous Mrs. Delano could live with someone as nasty as Rosa. According to Connie’s mother, she was already a troublemaker when her parents were killed in a car crash and she was adopted by Mrs. Delano at thirteen. Connie was only two or three when Rosa rolled in next door like a storm front that never budged. Now, twenty-seven years later, her words hung around Connie in the ether, burning through a tangle of jumbled ideas and leaving the charred truth—Connie had figured her mother was alive somewhere.

Needing a minute, she stepped back from the front door and confronted the Tucker residence, which exhibited contrasts identical to most of the other homes on the street: window frames in need of scraping and painting, and her mother’s favorite old-fashioned glider—and slightly rusty matching metal chairs—crowding the porch, hinting at benign neglect. Yet, two flower baskets hung from hooks on the porch pillars with cascading red, yellow, and blue blooms. Someone tended to those plants. Gaby, no doubt.

Connie steeled herself, donning emotional armor. Knocking brought no response, neither did pressing the bell, broken years ago and apparently never repaired. She’d kept a key to the house—from spite—and jiggled the lock a fraction, the way she’d done as a teenager breaking the curfew her father had tried to establish.

The door swung open.

With the windows shut tight, primal odors hung in the air like church incense. Lingering smells of baking, fresh laundry, furniture polish. Connie pulled a carry-on suitcase into the house. “I’m here.” Where were her sister and father? The car was in the driveway. She’d texted her arrival time and expected someone to be in the house to meet her. Instead, she was greeted by silence. Perfect.

A chair in the hallway held a stack of mail. Circumventing the living room to her right, Connie moved straight ahead to the kitchen. A used coffee mug and bowl sat in the sink. Otherwise, the room was orderly, a table in the breakfast nook had placemats, The Star-Ledger, and a vase of flowers. The sweet scents of lilacs and roses filled the air.

Back to the hallway she stopped in the arched entrance to the living room. Taking it all in. A new couch and the worn leather of the old recliner, her father’s favorite piece of furniture, and a flat screen television. The coffee table was the same. Also, the rug she and Gaby had danced on with their mother to ABBA all those afternoons. Their beautiful French mother.

A rush of memories confronting her on all sides, blocking progress, keeping her captive, nowhere to go but back into that night.

***

Excerpt from The First to Die by Suzanne Trauth. Copyright 2025 by Suzanne Trauth. Reproduced with permission from Suzanne Trauth. All rights reserved.

 

 

Review:

5 stars!

Mesmerizing tale of a daughter’s search for her mother’s killer. 

The First to Die by Suzanne Trauth is the mesmerizing mystery of a young woman’s deep dive into the circumstances surrounding her mother’s disappearance and subsequent death. Connie Tucker is called home to her childhood home in New Jersey when the remains of her long-missing mother were discovered. Simone Tucker had disappeared from the theatre where she had been in rehearsals for A Streetcar Named Desire, when Connie and her sister, Gaby, were 13 and 14, respectively, never to be seen or heard from again. But someone in her life had seen her at least one last time that night, and Connie was determined to find out who that person was. However, someone was just as determined to stop her. 

Connie is a sympathetic character, stuck in her past, unable to fully move forward until she knows what happened to her mother and whether a secret her mother made her promise to keep could have made a difference in the tragic outcome. Her feelings are further compounded by her father’s perceived betrayal when he sent her younger, grieving, out-of-control self to live with an aunt in California soon after her mother’s disappearance. Her sister, Gaby, is the perpetually wounded one, her main desire being to have her family reunited and happy again. Their father, Liam, while grieving the loss of his wife all over again, tells an inconsistent story of his movements the night of Simone’s disappearance. The combination makes for a riveting story I couldn’t put down. 

The plot alternates between the present and the past as Connie begins her own investigation when the cold case detective assigned to her mother’s murder inspires little confidence. The story unfolds as she chases her own memories of that night and questions some of the most important people from her past, never expecting the twists and turns she encounters. I had so many theories about what actually happened as I read, but the resolution still came as a big surprise. 

I recommend THE FIRST TO DIE to readers of mysteries and domestic thrillers.

Author Bio:

Suzanne Trauth is a novelist and playwright. Her novels include The First to Die, What Remains of Love (a first-place winner in Women's Fiction, Firebird Book Awards; a finalist in General Fiction, American Book Festival; and a finalist for the Hemingway Prize) and the Dodie O’Dell mystery series–Show Time, Time Out, Running Out of Time, Just in Time, No More Time and Killing Time. Ms. Trauth has co-authored Sonia Moore and American Acting Training and co-edited Katrina on Stage: Five Plays. She is a former member of the theatre faculty at a university and is a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, the Dramatists Guild, and the League of Professional Theatre Women.

Catch Up With Suzanne Trauth:

www.SuzanneTrauth.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads, @suzannetrauth
BookBub, @trauths1
Instagram, @suzannetrauth
Facebook, @suzanne.trauth.2025
Facebook, @SuzanneTrauth (Author)

 

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THE FIRST TO DIE by Suzanne Trauth; Gift Card

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