Saturday, March 30, 2024

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: The Big Lie (Shane Cleary Mystery, #5) by Gabriel Valjan

THE BIG LIE by Gabriel Valjan Banner


by Gabriel Valjan

March 11 - April 5, 2024 Virtual Book Tour


THE BIG LIE by Gabriel Valjan

A Shane Cleary Mystery

LOST: Poodle. Standard. Black. Studded collar. No tags. Goes by the name of Boo.

Sun Tzu may have said, ‘Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,’ but he didn’t live in Boston, and he’s not Shane Cleary. Shane’s latest and most unexpected client, while not quite an enemy, is Southie’s most dangerous criminal. Everything screams he shouldn’t take the gig, finding the gangster’s lost dog, but Shane can’t resist the promised ‘bonus.’

His cat, Delilah, is against it, and his girlfriend, Bonnie, the lawyer, doesn’t know.

Life is neither easy nor simple for Shane. Bonnie asks for his help on a pro bono case, his friend Bill requests a sketchy background check, and a mafia henchman makes a peculiar request. Shane can’t help but think his client just might kill him anyway after he finishes the job.

Does Jimmy know a Truth that will change Shane’s life, or is it a Big Lie?

Praise for THE BIG LIE:

"Gabriel Valjan writes in a voice not heard since the golden days of the noir novel. His tough characters—good guys, bad guys, and confused folks just caught in the whirlwind—sparkle like the facets of a dark jewel, and his images linger in the mind after the book’s long over."
~ SJ Rozan, best-selling author of THE MAYORS OF NEW YORK

"If Raymond Chandler were alive today, this is the story he’d write: Great characters, a noir-ish plot that never flags, writing that sizzles, and a relevant tale of the ways in which justice is, sadly, not blind."
~ Mally Becker, Agatha nominated author of THE TURNCOAT’S WIDOW

"Whip-smart, pacy, and full of curves. A worthy addition to the PI oeuvre."
~ Colin Campbell, Acclaimed author of the Jim Grant thrillers

"When you begin a crime novel with PI Shane Cleary getting hired by a gangster to find a stolen pooch, a standard poodle named Boo, there are several ways you can go, and most of them are downhill. Fortunately, Gabriel Valjan is at the helm of THE BIG LIE, which guarantees it heads in the right direction. Up. The dialogue is snappy, the retorts witty, and along the way we meet a host of unforgettable characters--hey, it’s Boston, what else would you expect?"
~ Charles Salzberg is the award-winning and Shamus Award nominated author of SECOND STORY MAN, CANARY IN THE COAL MINE and the Henry Swann series

Book Details:

Genre: Hardboiled Detective Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: March 2024
Number of Pages: 175
ISBN: 978-1685125301
Series: A Shane Cleary Mystery, Book 5
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Bookshop

Read an excerpt:



“A dog? You want me to find a dog?”

“That’s right.”

The head lifted, and eyes the color of Windex evaluated me. The slice of light from the streetlamp through the curtains behind him revealed a revolver on the armrest and a pair of pliers in one hand, which he squeezed to strengthen his grip. He used them to extract teeth from his victims. Whether he did it when they were alive or dead added to the legend and menace of Southie’s most infamous son. Another man stood near him.

I’m told life serves you the same lesson over and over until you learn what you need to learn before the next thing comes along. I’ve also been told that karma never forgets an address. Jimmy was proof of both. He almost killed me but didn’t. I should’ve killed him, but I couldn’t because he was protected, and not by the mob. A stained badge shielded the man sitting in my chair, in my apartment in Union Park.

My landlady had called me at Bonnie’s place. She told me I had visitors, and they wanted a word with me. She said Jimmy made a point to pet her two Corgis and offered her some advice. The thug recommended a brand of dog food so her dogs wouldn’t gain more weight. He emphasized canine physical fitness, which was pure Jimmy since he was a fitness nut.

Jimmy had muscles because like most of the young lions in Southie, he lifted weights. He sported a veined neck, muscular arms, and a thick chest trapped inside a tight polo shirt. I knew if I couldn’t take him, I was confident he’d feel me for days. We both weighed about 165 pounds, but I had a smidge more height to his five-eight. I had one more advantage over Jimmy, I could stand my ground and take a hit. Jimmy, like most jockeys of the weight room, walked around with toothpicks for legs because he neglected to train them. His pant leg rode high enough for me to eyeball pasty shins, black socks, and sneakers. No ankle piece there.

I read the room as I came in. The situation would play out in one of two ways. One is someone pulled a trigger, and my last thought was either part of the hardwood floor or, my brains were spaghetti against the wall and ceiling. The second option was I lived, forced to listen and learn how to avoid the same situation again. Like I said, a lesson in life and karma.

Jimmy murmured something to his bodyguard. It was low and slow, the kind of soft and secretive Irish whisper you’d expect in a bar’s last hour. I assumed he’d told his man to wait outside because the guy moved past me. The door to my apartment opened and closed. I didn’t see his face but caught a glimpse of the feet. Construction boots.

The pair of pliers indicated the chair near me. “Sit.”

“I prefer to stand.”

“Suit yourself.”

I peeled my jacket off, so he’d know I was armed. His eyes admired the holster. I knew what he was going to say, so I said it before he did. “Same rig as Steve McQueen in Bullitt.”

“Cross-draw don’t seem bright or effective.”

“Want to test me?”

His right hand pulsed with the pliers. A blued steel .357 slept on the left armrest of my favorite chair. His choice of firearm was an older model, not the kind Dirty Harry would carry, but it got the job done. Jimmy was right-handed, but that wasn’t the point. His eyes flashed, as a way to taunt me, and then focused. “Nah, I don’t feel lucky today, and all I want is for you to find my dog.”

“On second thought,” I said, “I think I’ll take that seat.”

“Excellent, we can have a civilized conversation then.”

I get all kinds of crazy for clients because my retainer and daily rates are reasonable. Paranoid businessmen hire me because they suspect a partner or a favorite employee is a thief. Neurotic spouses hire me because they see a frequent-flyer for a phone number on the bill from Ma Bell, or odd charges on their dearly beloved’s statement from American Express. Bonnie told me family law was the worst, and I agreed, but it pays the bills.

I’ve listened to more sob stories and provided more free advice than Ann Landers. In short, I’ve handled embezzlement, fraud, infidelity, and on occasion, missing persons, in addition to arson, murder, and narcotics. But this pitch to find a canine—a variation on a missing person or property—was new.

Jimmy, who didn’t like to be called Jimmy, was an extortionist, a murderer, and South Boston’s premier gangster, so it was hard for me to picture him heartsick over the absence of man’s best friend.

He said, “Don’t you have a cat?”


“Delilah, that’s right. You would be upset if she went missing, wouldn’t you?” His hand waved, pliers and all. “There’s a name…Delilah, as in Samson and Delilah. A female dog is called a bitch, but I never did learn what they called a female cat.”

“A molly.”

“You know, I’ve never cared for cats. Loyalty issues, moody and temperamental.”

“Rather ironic coming from you. Cats are excellent judges of character.”

“And what do you think your Delilah would say about me, if she could talk?”

“You wouldn’t want to know. Can we wrap this up?”

Delilah, he didn’t know, could talk. Sort of. She blinked once for Yes, twice for No, and meows were extra for emphasis. If she’d seen Jimmy now, she’d turn banshee and caterwaul profanities.

“You want me to find a dog?”

“A dog.”

“Your dog?”

“My dog.”

Jimmy had never been talky, or loud, but he commanded every room he was in with an unnerving silence. He neither drank nor smoked or used drugs. His mother was alive, and he looked after her like a doting son. His brother was successful on the other side of the tracks, in politics, and Jimmy went out of his way not to cast a shadow on frater eius.

“I’m aware that Shane Cleary doesn’t need my money. I know he does all right as a landlord for his Greek friend, with steady income from tenants, and this PI thing is something he does for kicks, to try to make life interesting.”

Those blue eyes sparkled in that truant light while he talked about me.

“Are you suggesting all that could vanish if I don’t take the case?”

“Not at all,” he said. “All I’m saying is I know things about you; things you might not know about yourself, things like personal history, and I don’t mean your falling out with the Boston Police Department.”

“Good to know, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“You were too good for them, like you’re too good to work for that dago in the North End.”

“And there it is. I earn my money, and you know it, Jimmy.”

“Yeah, you do. I had to say it before you tell me my money is no good.”

“Money makes the world go round,” I added.

“That’s right. Money does, and it’s all-American as apple pie.”

“I know your story, and you say you know mine. What if I don’t care what you know?”

“I do, and you will care about what I know. Speaking of I do, how come you haven’t asked that lawyer broad you’ve been seeing to marry you?”

“She doesn’t believe in marriage, and none of your business.”

Jimmy was a career criminal, and not someone I would associate with domesticity. Women close to him have disappeared, and yet there was little to nothing in his jacket for other misdeeds, thanks to his agent friend. Any priors going back to his teen years—like larceny, a spatter of robberies with a dash of assault and battery—was smoke on the water.

“Work this one case for me, Shane. It’s all I ask. I’ll pay you your rate and throw in the personal history as a bonus, if you’ll find my dog.”

“Personal history?”

“You haven’t read or seen it. Trust me, this is something you don’t know.”

“You said it yourself. I don’t need the money. As for your teaser about history …what if I don’t care?”

He stared at me. He was Windex and I was dirty glass.

“You will, I promise. That’s your problem in life, Shane Cleary. You care, and this one time, Jimmy is gonna set you straight.”

Jimmy was volatile as a bucket of gasoline, he liked to test boundaries. All he needed was fumes and a lit match. Like the time someone called him Old Blue Eyes in one of the taverns on Broadway. The poor souse probably meant it as a compliment after one too many beers. Jimmy didn’t see it that way. He especially hated Sinatra, the way he detested all Italians, so he stomped the guy’s face in.

His eyes glanced down at the weapon under my arm. The holster was such that the gun pointed up at the armpit. His eyes met mine. “Did you know my old man lost an arm? Crushed between two rail cars. You would’ve liked him, Shane. He was a quiet, proud man, what we would call socially conscientious today He’d clerk here and there at the Naval Yard, but he never worked a full-time job after he lost that arm.”

“Tough break.”

“Our fathers had something in common.”

Being Irish was my first thought, but I waited for it through tight teeth. I wanted to punch him in the face for making any comparison between us. I thought, I should’ve killed him when I had the chance. I wouldn’t lose sleep over it, either.

“We’re alike, you and I,” he said.

“First the teaser and now, flattery. I’ll bite. How do you figure we’re similar?”

“We’re both damaged. You came home from the war changed, like your old man.”

I couldn’t resist. “I went to Vietnam. What’s your excuse?”

That made him smile and say, “Know how we’re alike?”

“Don’t know, Jimmy. Maybe, some people would call us rats: me for my time with the BPD and you, well, you know.”

His face didn’t flinch or register emotion.

“We’re alike because we both believe we’re doing the right thing.”

I waited for the rationalization, how what he was doing with the FBI helped South Boston, his people, the maligned Irish. Jimmy was a psychopath, and his line of thinking was a special aisle at Toys “R” Us.

“I’m doing my part to clear this town of those wop bastards. No different from you cleaning the stables at the Station House, like when you testified against that crooked cop.”

“People within the department were crooked, Jimmy. He killed a black kid and staged the scene. There’s a difference.”

“‘Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto.’ Say what you will. Call me an informant. A snitch. Call me a rodent with whiskers and sharp teeth, but go look in the mirror, and tell me what you see, Brother Rat. Tell me how we’re not alike.”

“For starts, I was an only child. You weren’t.”

“You’re right. My brother, the smart one, helped me as best he could, like that teacher, that professor helped you.” He snapped his fingers. “What was his name?”

“Lindsey. Delano Lindsey.”

“Did you know I taught myself the classics? I did it, with a library card. See, we’re both strong on initiative and self-education. You look to me like you’re a man hot for Shakespeare. I bet you can quote something from the Bard. How ’bout it?”

“‘The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.’ Lear.”

Jim wagged a finger. “That’s good, but let’s talk shop now.”

“Talk about your dog?”

“No, personal history. Your old man went the way of Hemingway, didn’t he?”

My blood rose. Several long seconds died between us, about the amount of time it took for one of Ray Guy’s punts to land downfield.

“I’ll let you in on something you didn’t know about the day he did a Hemingway.”

Through clenched teeth, I told him, “I know all I need to know about my father, thanks.”

“Do you? ‘To you your father should be as a god.’ Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Jimmy rose and took his jacket. He dropped the pliers into a pocket and hung the jacket over his left arm. He inserted the gun into his waistband behind him. I sat there numb, confused, and intrigued. He said his man was outside, waiting in the car. Jimmy drove a black Mercury Grand Marquis.

He reached the door when, against my better judgment, I asked the question that betrayed my interest in the bait, his lure about personal history, “Where was the last place you saw the dog?”

“Roxbury. Dog groomer.”

Jim rattled off the address while my mind tried to picture him dropping off his pet in the black section of town. I had to ask him. “This dog have a name?”


“As in To Kill a Mockingbird.”


“One last thing,” I said. “Breed?”

“Poodle. Standard. Black. Studded collar. No tags.”


Excerpt from The Big Lie by Gabriel Valjan. Copyright 2024 by Gabriel Valjan. Reproduced with permission from Gabriel Valjan. All rights reserved.




5 stars!

A story so immersive you'll think you've traveled back in time to shadow Shane Cleary.

The Big Lie is the fifth book in the wonderful Shane Cleary Mystery series by Gabriel Valjan, and while each novel builds his history, readers encountering the series for the first time should have no problem catching up and settling in. With its engaging and highly competent private eye main character, intriguing plot, and entertaining story delivery, this latest addition to the series had me glued to its pages and left me more than ready for future adventures.

Shane Cleary is a clever guy with a delicious sense of humor and a wise mouth. His witty way with words is one of my favorite things about this series; I absolutely love his 'voice' and enjoy his ability to work literary and cultural references into his conversations. As an investigator, he's quick to make connections and tenacious in his pursuit of answers and justice.

The plot follows Shane through a couple of inquiries that are, except for the missing poodle case, favors rather than paying jobs. All the while, the Boston PD is dogging his steps, taking any opportunity to enact revenge for Shane's perceived past disloyalty. Jobs for competing bad guys in town also make him walk an uneasy path, where any misstep could mean the ultimate of consequences. All these situations are unsettling, but Shane is smart and successfully concludes the different cases for everyone who matters.

Along with the cases, this book delves into the personal lives of Shane and some of his more dangerous clients. I really enjoyed the insider's look into Tony Two-Times' relationship with his Sicilian mother. In addition, it seems EVERYONE seemed to have an opinion about Shane's continued single marital status. The author's descriptions of the Boston neighborhoods, streets, and people are vivid and immerse you in the time and place of the novel. I felt I was viewing things firsthand right alongside Shane himself.

I recommend THE BIG LIE (and the previous novels in the Shane Cleary Mystery series) to mystery readers who enjoy historical settings, traditional PI stories, and some of the finest writing around.

Author Bio:

THE BIG LIE by Gabriel Valjan, credit Peter Rozovosky

Gabriel Valjan is the Agatha, Anthony, Derringer, Silver Falchion and Shamus nominated author of the Shane Cleary mystery series with Level Best Books. He received the 2021 Macavity Award for Best Short Story. Gabriel is a member of ITW, MWA, and Sisters in Crime. He is a regular contributor to the Criminal Minds blog. He lives in Boston’s South End and answers to a tuxedo cat named Munchkin.

Catch Up With Gabriel Valjan:
BookBub - @gvaljan
Instagram - @gabrielvaljan
Twitter/X - @GValjan

Photo: Gabriel Valjan, credit Peter Rozovosky



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Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Poppies, Perils, and Poison (Camelot Flowers Mystery, #2) by Erica Wynters


Poppies, Perils, and Poison
Camelot Flowers Mysteries
Erica Wynters

Cozy Mystery
2nd in Series
Setting - Illinois
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Publication Date: March 19, 2024
Number of Pages: ~280 pages
Digital ASIN: B0CPKP9N3G



From author Erica Wynters comes another Camelot Flowers Mystery blooming with secrets, suspicions, and danger at every turn...

Things are finally looking up with florist Gwen Stevens’ family business, Camelot Flowers, which means her biggest problem now is making her heart choose between her lifelong crush on the charming Chris Crawford and her budding romance with Finn Butler, the new police detective who makes her want to stop and smell the roses.

But Gwen’s thorny love life takes a backseat when Shannon Wentworth, a newcomer to the small town of Star Junction, drops dead in the local coffee shop the day after she announces her candidacy for garden club president. Unfortunately, Margie Philips, Gwen’s surrogate aunt, has been garden club president for years and had threatened to win again this year at any cost—which suddenly puts her in the role of prime suspect in Wentworth's untimely demise!

Determined to clear Margie’s name, Gwen digs deep and discovers a bouquet’s worth of secrets, including marital infidelity, a lawsuit threatening to ruin a local business, and even doubts about where Margie was right before the murder. With too many suspects all hiding something, will Gwen uncover the truth before the killer poisons her chances of a happily ever after?




Coming soon!


Erica Wynters may have lived most of her life in the frigid Midwest, but now she spends her time in the warmth and sunshine of Arizona. She loves hiking, hunting down waterfalls in the desert, reading (of course), and napping. Can napping be considered a hobby? When not weaving tales of mystery with plenty of quirky characters, laughs, and a dash of romance, Erica works as a Marriage and Family Therapist helping others find their Happily Ever Afters.


March 21 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT
March 21 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW
March 22 – The Mystery of Writing – AUTHOR GUEST POST
March 22 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT
March 23 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
March 23 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT
March 23 – Reading Is My SuperPower – AUTHOR GUEST POST
March 24 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT
March 24 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews - SPOTLIGHT
March 25 – Angel's Book Nook – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT
March 25 – Sarah Can't Stop Reading – REVIEW
March 26 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT
March 26 – The Mystery Section – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT
March 27 – Christy's Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST
March 27 – Novels Alive – REVIEW
March 28 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER INTERVIEW
March 28 – Cozy Up With Kathy – AUTHOR INTERVIEW
March 29 – Teatime and Books – SPOTLIGHT
March 30 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – REVIEW
March 30 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT

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Friday, March 29, 2024

Book Blitz & Giveaway: The Model's Last Pose (Pearl Hotel Cozy Mystery, #1) by Nancy Pennick

The Model’s Last Pose
Nancy Pennick
(The Pearl Hotel Cozy Mystery Series, #1)
Publication date: March 26th 2024
Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery

In a cozy tearoom of a prestigious five-star hotel, three friends embark on a mission to solve a murder along with a koi that appears to read minds.

Faced with a severe case of writer’s block, best-selling author Serena Tate seeks help from her close confidant, Mia, a popular fashion designer. Mia suggests that Serena observe the inner workings of her forthcoming fashion show for inspiration. What unfolds is beyond her wildest expectations—a shocking murder of a supermodel. Together with their tech-savvy friend, Lily, the unlikely trio embarks on a mission to uncover the truth.

Goodreads / Amazon


Two koi swam away, but a majestic red one with white fins and tail stayed. “Oh, I see how it is. They’re loyal to Nina. But you?” Serena pointed to the fish. “Have sympathy for everyone.” She threw her head back and blew air through her lips. “Where do I begin?”

When Serena looked at the pond again, the koi hadn’t budged. “I loved him, you know. Madly. Passionately.” She stared at the fish. “Who am I talking about, you ask? My ex-husband, Justice Tate. He was a bad boy, and I loved bad boys. He owned a motorcycle, and we’d go on day trips, seeing parts of the state I’d never seen before. We had fun together, so much fun. When he asked me to marry him, I think I fainted. Not literally. But in my mind, I did.”

The koi’s mouth formed in the shape of an “O”. He, because Serena decided it must be a male, seemed interested in the story. “You want to hear the rest? It gets uglier. Sadder. I can’t really label it.”

Other fish swam by, distracting the red and white koi. He turned away but reappeared after a dip underwater. “What do you like to eat?” Serena asked. “Next time I’ll come prepared.”

The fish seemed to like her statement. Serena swore he nodded. They sat in silence for a moment, and she decided he was waiting to hear more of her sad tale.

“Okay,” Serena finally said. “Fine. I’ll tell you. We were young when we got married. Twenty-one, to be exact. We had two great years together, then I got pregnant with twins. Girls. Justice wanted to name the girls Jade and Jewel like the shiny, precious gems they were, and so we did. At first, everything was fine. Justice was the typical doting dad. But they cramped his style. We couldn’t take off at a moment’s notice with a double stroller. That didn’t fit on the back of a motorcycle. We needed a practical car. I encouraged Justice to choose whatever he wanted so he’d feel invested. Once the girls started school, I thought things would get better.” She paused and shook her head. “Nope.” She put emphasis on the ‘p’. “They got worse.”

Author Bio:

Nancy Pennick grew up and still lives in Northeast Ohio. After a career in teaching, she began writing young adult and romance books. The Waiting for Dusk series includes a historical fiction prequel, Broken Dreams. The sci-fi romance series about time travel has three books-Waiting for Dusk, Call of the Canyon and Stealing Time. The Swedish influences in the series come from her mother whose parents emigrated from Sweden.

Her second YA series-Twenty Nine-had slowly developed over time. One Leap Year, an idea came to her and she created the characters and story based on that special day, February 29.

Nancy has branched out into historical romance with her Clan MacLaren series and romantic suspense, The Secret Billionaire Society and Billionaire's Bride series.

Nancy is married and has one son who helps her when she's challenged by tech, which may be more often than he likes!

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter

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Thursday, March 28, 2024

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Cats, Carats, and Killers (Urban Tails Pet Shop Mystery, #4) by T.C. LoTempio


Cats, Carats and Killers
Urban Tails Pet Shop Mysteries
T. C. LoTempio

Cozy Mystery
4th in Series
Setting - Connecticut
Publisher: Beyond the Page Publishing
Publication Date: March 19, 2024)
Paperback page count: 182 pages
ISBN-10: 1960511556 / ISBN-13: 978-1960511553




There may be honor among thieves, but a long-ago diamond heist might hold the secret to a man’s murder . . . 

Pet shop owner Shell McMillan is thrilled to see everyone in Fox Hollow flocking to the local animal shelter’s fundraiser, where they can get their old keepsakes and collectibles appraised and maybe even sell them for a tidy sum. But the event has drawn some shady characters as well, including Pete Martin, who seems determined to get his hands on a beat-up old jewelry box at any cost. Then Martin is found murdered, and Shell has to go from fundraising to finding a killer. It doesn’t take long for Shell to figure out that the jewelry box was concealing diamonds from a long-ago heist, and that Martin wasn’t the only one trying to get his hands on the stash. But to figure out who wanted him dead, she’ll have to uncover who was behind the original heist and who knows where the rest of the gems are hidden. It’s as dangerous a case as Shell has ever faced, and if she’s not careful, her search for the missing stones will leave her stone-cold dead . . .




T. C. LoTempio is the award-winning, national bestselling author of the Nick and Nora mystery series. Her cat, Rocco, provides the inspiration for the character of Nick the cat. She also writes the Urban Tails Pet Shop Mystery series, as well as the Cat Rescue series and the Tiffany Austin Food Blogger series. Check out her and Rocco's blog,, and visit her website,, for more information.


March 19 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT
March 20 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT
March 21 – Bigreadersite – REVIEW
March 21 – Read Your Writes – AUTHOR INTERVIEW
March 22 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
March 22 – Angel's Book Nook- SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT
March 23 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT
March 23 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT
March 25 – Reading Is My SuperPower – AUTHOR GUEST POST
March 26 – Mochas, Mysteries and Meows – CHARACTER INTERVIEW
March 27 – Socrates Book Reviews – REVIEW
March 28 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – SPOTLIGHT
March 30 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
March 31 - #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT
April 1 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST
April 1 – Christy's Cozy Corners – SPOTLIGHT WITH EXCERPT


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Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Wet, Warm, and Noisy (Jake Ward, #1) by David A. Willson

Wet, Warm and Noisy by David A. Willson Banner

Wet, Warm and Noisy

by David A. Willson

March 4-29, 2024 Virtual Book Tour


Wet, Warm and Noisy by David A. Willson

A supernatural crime thriller set in Alaska, the Last Frontier...

Surrounded by the unforgiving climate of the frozen north, Jake Ward, a tenacious Alaska State Trooper Investigator and cancer survivor, is on a relentless quest to regain his health and return to full-duty status.

But Ward's world takes a bone-chilling turn during a routine polygraph examination when a woman escapes custody, leaving an officer critically injured. What started as an ordinary investigation transforms into a complex web of intrigue, where medical experimentation and consciousness collide.

In "Wet, Warm, and Noisy," Willson masterfully blurs the boundaries between law enforcement and the supernatural, leading readers on a heart-pounding journey through a realm where the tangible and the mysterious intersect. With time slipping away, can Ward decipher the enigmas that defy reason, or will forces that transcend human experience overwhelm him?

Author David A. Willson, with over two decades of experience as an Alaska State Trooper, brings a rare authenticity to crime fiction that will both enlighten and captivate you. Prepare yourself for an electrifying thriller that challenges the very foundations of our reality.

Book Details:

Genre: Speculative Crime Thriller
Published by: Seeker Press
Publication Date: March 2024
Number of Pages: 236
Series: A Jake Ward Novel, 1
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Palmer, Alaska - Today

Cool springtime winds kicked up across the shooting range just outside the Palmer city limits. Behind the long mound of dirty ice and gravel that served as a backstop, the majestic Chugach mountains, half-covered in snow, stood proudly in the distance as two men faced a target stand. The target was cardboard, the outline of a human torso stapled to two upright posts. The men were real, however. One was an Alaska State Trooper firearms instructor serving as range master. The other was Trooper Investigator Jacob Ward.

The shot timer sounded and Ward’s right hand went to his hip. In a fluid motion, his thumb defeated the retention mechanism and his fingers clasped the handgrip to free the .40 caliber Glock pistol from his belt, then pointed it toward the target. At least he hadn’t gotten hung up on the holster this time.

Grip. Clear. Rock-and-lock.

Almost a second had already passed when his left hand moved from its place on his solar plexus to the pistol, completing his grip on the gun. The smack step.

He pushed it forward to the target, closing one eye as he focused on the front sight. The look step.

He imagined his index finger pulling the slack off the trigger as he prepared to deliver two shots, center mass, but couldn’t be sure, because he couldn’t feel it. Not even a bit.

Pop. Pop.

Two shots. One had gone early, and hit wide of the target because his presentation was terrible. It’d been too long since he’d been to the range and the results were showing. Then, of course, there was the other issue.

He aimed the gun higher, focusing on the head of the paper target.


His finger started to pull back again when the shot timer beeped again.


Too late.

“Overtime,” the range master said, as if Jake didn’t know. It was his third penalty in as many rounds. “First shot went off early, which wouldn’t be a problem if you had a better presentation, but it’s wide. And slow.”


“Fingers still numb?”

“Nah,” Ward lied, then turned back and forth, doing his safety scans before inserting a full magazine and replacing the pistol into the holster at his hip. Frustrated and nervous, he needlessly adjusted his hearing protection. A breeze swept across the range, startling him as it brought a chill to his shaved head. Maybe he should have worn something warmer than his State Trooper ball cap, but the blue BDUs and cap were as close to a uniform as he could get until he got approval for full duty. He wanted to feel like a Trooper today. In a bad way.

“Are you pushing this too soon? The Captain is happy to keep you on light duty for a while yet.”

“If I don’t get out here and just do it, I’ll never qualify. Neuropathy or not.”

“True. But with three overtimes already, I’m not sure you’re gonna make any progress with a qual course today.” The burly range master took a step closer, a concerned look on his face. Ward had rarely seen the man show any feeling - he was all business. “Everyone knows you shoot well, but you’ve had a rough go lately. You’ll get there, but not all at once. Let’s ditch the course and do some slow presentations. Dry practice, maybe. Fundamentals.”

But Ward didn’t move, instead squaring up to the target. It wasn’t just the neuropathy and numb fingers. He had weak toes and shaky hands. And shaky confidence. But he wouldn’t get his mojo back by sitting at a desk. And pity didn't help one bit.

“Suit yourself,” the range master said, then let out a huff and took a step back. He paused a moment, then raised his voice back to range levels. “Again, fail to stop drill at seven yards. Five seconds from the holster.”

Ward focused, his eyes drilling a hole in the target where he wanted the shots to hit.

“Shooter ready!”

The timer sounded.

* * *

The drive to work along the Glenn Highway was uneventful, other than a speeder that insisted on doing eighty-five, tailgating everyone who dared occupy their lane. If he’d been driving his assigned vehicle, Ward would have activated his emergency lights and pulled the punk over for a friendly conversation. But light duty status means no Trooper rig unless you have special permission, not even an unmarked one. And no gun, at least until he could qualify.

The occasional wind gust caused Ward’s blue Chevy pickup to sway within the lanes, distracting him from the sound of the political commentary streaming through the truck’s speakers. The talk radio host paused for a news report announcing a shooting at a gas station in Anchorage last night, municipal budget cuts, and something about a missing college kid. There would always be crime, and therefore, plenty of job security.

The traffic got thicker as Ward traveled through Eagle River, Anchorage’s closest suburb, then even worse as he exited off the highway onto Muldoon Road. Muldoon became Tudor Road, and he turned into the parking lot of the Alaska Bureau of Investigation.

He parked the truck and came through the side entrance, stopping at the break room to see if the coffee was rolling yet, hoping that a fellow caffeine addict had beaten him to work today. The empty pot announced no such luck. A few minutes later, he welcomed a steady stream of black goodness into the pot and he was on his way down the hall to the office.

The Alaska Bureau of Investigation’s Technical Crimes Unit was a modest space in a boring, rectangular building in east Anchorage. What happened between those walls, however, was anything but boring. One sergeant, two civilian techs and three investigators were involved in some of the biggest criminal investigations in Alaska. Even when they didn’t have primary case responsibility, they provided critical support to other officers. It was the variety that had attracted Ward to this kind of work. Sure, he had a talent for technology, which helped get the job, but that wasn’t why he was here. What attracted him was the fact that no two days were ever the same. He could write a search warrant for a child exploitation case in the morning, then do a forensic computer exam for a homicide case before lunch. He might kick a door on a building search, only to be called away to sit shotgun in a helicopter, acting as a spotter for a search and rescue. The variety of work duties assigned to an Alaska State Trooper Investigator was unparalleled.

Unless you were on light duty.


It was Sergeant Ballack down the hall, shouting from his office. Ward got to his feet, snagging his notebook and a pen on the way out of his cubicle. That shout always came with some ‘other duty as assigned,’ or so the trooper saying goes.

As always, the sergeant’s office smelled old, musty maybe. He didn't know if it was Ballack’s bad cologne or his shampoo, but then his sense of smell kinda sucked. Chemotherapy will do that to ya.

The Sergeant turned to face Ward as he entered, grabbing a few papers off his desk as he did so. The man had quite the glorious head of hair and it probably took some pretty fancy conditioner to keep its form, adding a good three inches to his already impressive height.

“Whatcha got for me, boss?”

“Have a seat,” Ballack said. He was impeccably dressed, as always, with a sharp red tie and blue tailored suit. “How ya feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ward, you’re not fine. Cut the crap. Nobody who’s battling pancreatic cancer is fine. Serious. How are you?”

“Surgery went well enough. Chemo is over and my oncologist thinks I’ve got a shot. Neuropathy is getting better every day. I’m ready for full duty, sir.”

“My wife has a friend that works at a cancer clinic. She said you’re not out of the woods till you hit five years. Is that right?”

Heck, I’d love to make it five years. A few months ago, I thought I was toast.

“With pancreatic, it comes back fast, or it doesn’t come back at all. If I make it two years, I’m probably ok.” He didn’t tell him about the other problems, though. Digestive issues causing low energy, the numb fingers and toes, memory lapses, concentration, yada yada. Ya can’t kill cancer cells without killing a lot of other stuff, apparently.

“Don’t rush it, ok?” Ballack put down the papers. “I can keep you busy on light duty for a long time.”

Not the words he wanted to hear, and standing in the Sarge’s office discussing death and light duty, which was almost as bad, tested Ward’s patience.

“What do you have there, Sarge?”

“Polygraph. You game?”

“Absolutely. What’s the case?”

“Palmer patrol picked up some crazy chick on grave shift. Ahem. I mean, ‘a person in crisis.’ She tried to break into a warehouse a couple of nights ago. Then she babbled about being kidnapped, something about a kid, all kinds of nutty stuff.” Ballack rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking poly her, see if she’s cracked. If her claims are legit, we’ll follow up. What do you think?”

“I’ve been looking for some actual police work to do.” He reached for the paper.

“Find out about the kidnapping. If it happened at all. If you get admissions about why she was trying to get into the warehouse, well, that’s really the target.”

“We rarely run polygraphs on victims.”

“She’s full of crap. She’s a doper who tried to rob a building and we want to know why. Poly is a pretext for interrogation on the burg.”

“That’s fine. I haven’t run a poly in months and I’m going blind on all those public information requests you keep handing me. It’ll give me something real to do.”

Ward moved to walk out of the office.


He turned back.

“Take it easy, son.”

“It’s a polygraph, boss.” Ward furrowed his brow. “I’ll survive.”

“Sergeant Vance told me about the range.”


“Don’t push it, Ward. I’m not talking about the polygraph, or the range. Just in general. Bodies take time to heal and you’ve been through hell.”

He has no idea. “Got it, boss.”

“I mean it. We’ll wait for you to be strong.”

Ward bit his lip, trying to hold back, but the pity was too much for his pride. “I got it, ok? Got it. You care. Everyone cares. Don’t rush it. Loud and clear. I’m good.”

Then he walked out of the room.


Excerpt from Wet, Warm and Noisy by David A. Willson. Copyright 2024 by David A. Willson. Reproduced with permission from David A. Willson. All rights reserved.




5 stars!

Riveting plot with a relatable, sympathetic protagonist – I didn’t want to put it down! 

Wet, Warm, and Noisy by David A. Willson is an exciting genre-blending tale combining mystery with science fiction. What initially felt like a police procedural set in Anchorage, Alaska, quickly escalated into so much more, with an engaging, likable, sympathetic main character and human experimentation! 

Jake Ward is a heroic figure, an investigator for the Alaska State Police, working ferociously to return to work and off light duty after a long battle with pancreatic cancer. He has a soul-deep yearning to get back in action, pushing himself physically and mentally to be deemed fit for duty. His entire identity is comprised of his role as an AST investigator. 

The story takes off like a rocket when a simple burglary investigation takes a BIG LEFT TURN. Jake gets involved in the case early, conducting a polygraph examination of the suspect, a task he can perform while assigned to light duty, but becomes a witness to what subsequently occurs. He’s supposed to leave further investigation to the assigned detective but is unable to walk away. He works the system and case anyway. Widely respected and liked by coworkers throughout the organization and sister agencies, he has developed a lot of contacts to call on for assistance with his case. It was amazing how much information he uncovered and how many leads he generated just working his online resources. 

The author’s storytelling mesmerized me, and I couldn’t put this book down until I knew how the story worked out. The plot is complex and clever, with a little Groundhog Day vibe peeking out, and there is quite a bit of humor, both snark and dark, mixed in with the action, excitement, and drama.

[Jake angling to have his sergeant allow him to carry his service weapon before requalifying.]

Jake: “But I’m not going to a hot scene naked.”

Ballack: “Wear your BDUs.”


[Greeting by a friend from another agency whom he hasn’t seen in a while.]

McCabe: “You still dying?” 

The story is well-paced and easy to fall into, with heart-pounding action, horrifying situations, and good old-fashioned police work, and the real criminal activity is much more than a simple burglary. I can’t wait for the next Jake Ward adventure. 

I recommend WET, WARM, AND NOISY to readers of mysteries and thrillers and who enjoy a professional law enforcement officer protagonist.

Author Bio:

David A. Willson

David A. Willson, a retired Alaska State Trooper with more than two decades of service, brings unmatched authenticity to his crime fiction. During his career, he served as a certified police instructor, polygraph program coordinator, court-certified computer forensics expert and supervisor of both Major Crimes and Technical Crimes units. With over a decade in an investigative capacity, he supervised thousands of felony cases, chasing Alaska’s most dangerous criminals.

Catch Up With Our Author:
BookBub - @DavidAWillson
Facebook - @DWillsonAuthor



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Book Blitz & Giveaway: An Accident Waiting to Dragon (Brimstone, Inc., #3) by Abigail Owen

An Accident Waiting to Dragon
Abigail Owen
(Brimstone Inc., #3)
Publication date: March 26th 2024
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

It’s not the heat…it’s the pixie dust.

The day her brother died, Gwendolyn Moonsoar fled from her veil of pixies. Grief drove her away, but a broken heart made her stay gone for good. Lucky for Gwen, Brimstone Inc. was there to break her fall. Now, as a special courier transporting the most valuable and dangerous items of the supernatural world, Gwen is good at her job. Damn good. After all, disappearing is her specialty.

Dragon shifter Asher Kato will always be haunted by his best friend Goran’s death. Although a promise he made gave him no choice, Asher will never forgive himself for the role he played…or the fallout it caused with Goran’s younger sister, Gwen. Burying himself in his role as second-in-command of the blue dragons is his only escape. Unfortunately, the peace they fought so hard for isn’t meant for a warrior like him. So, when a courier transporting a rare basilisk egg goes missing, Asher volunteers to track her down.

Except Asher’s mission ends up stranding him on a deserted island with the only woman he’s ever wanted….a pixie who would rather vanish forever than spend a single second with him.

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Sweaty from their trek and the feelings that refused to fade, Gwen was damn tempted to dive right in, but before she could, Asher stripped off his shoes and socks, his hands going to the fly of his jeans.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t face her, but she could hear the rare teasing smile in his voice. “Bathing.”

He was going to bathe. Right now? In front of her?

Sure. No big deal. She was a fully grown adult. Most supernatural creatures didn’t have hang-ups about nudity the way humans did. She could handle this. He’d go first, then she’d take a turn. They could draw their drinking water upstream when they were done.

Asher dropped his pants, leaving him in nothing but black boxer-briefs, which showed off the muscles of his thighs as he waded into the water. Then he turned to face her, a playful glint in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a long time. Sure enough, next came the shirt.


There went the small amount of control she’d wrangled for herself over the course of their trek. Gone in an instant.

With an eye roll, she walked to a flat rock at the edge of the water. A second later, a splash told her he was fully submerged now. By the time she’d taken off her sock and shoes, and rolled up her pants to dangle her legs, she figured it was safe for her to look.

A horrible idea, it turned out.

A flash of movement under the surface caught her eye a second before Asher came up out of the water, facing her, lifting his hands to slick back his dark hair, his muscles rippling with the movement.

Now that was just freaking unfair.

It was like nature was trying to highlight all the hotness she’d been missing all this time. Hotness that had just been inside of her.

Oh. My. Gods.

Heat flared in her cheeks yet again.

Which was when Asher opened his eyes and caught her staring. His gaze locked in on her, and for once she couldn’t make out what he was thinking.

But she couldn’t look away, her chest growing tighter by the second.

Was he—

Asher swam toward her. “Why aren’t you coming in?”

She nearly shook her head. No, it couldn’t be.

Her oh-so-serious dragon wasn’t trying to…tease her, play with her?

Was he?

He’s not your dragon, Gwendolyn Moonsoar. He’s not your anything, she tried to remind herself. But that thought was feeling more and more flimsy by the second…considering the way he was looking at her.

She shrugged, trying to play it cool while her face was probably still flaming red. Maybe he’d put that down to their trek? “I’ll wait until you’re done.”

A frown flitted across his features, far more familiar and comfortable than his teasing, but then he swam forward until he could stand in front of her. “You don’t have to wait. There’s plenty of room.”

Gwen opened her mouth to wave him off with something vague only to get a little lost in the deep navy of his eyes. “I…don’t think that would be a good idea,” she found herself saying.

His jaw tightened visibly. “I would never—”

Without thinking, she pressed a single finger against his lips and they both sort of froze at the contact. Gwen swallowed and pulled away slowly.

“I know,” she whispered. “You’re not the one I don’t trust.”

Asher’s brows drew together, stopped, then crept back up as her meaning sank in that she was the problem here. Her and all her discombobulated feelings.

That glint from a moment ago reignited in his eyes, only up close it was even more potent, more dangerous. “Do you need rescuing?” he asked, his voice dropping lower.

Oh my gods.

The memory of their first kiss, the first time he’d said those words to her, swirled and blended with this one, and excited butterflies hit her insides full force. But she couldn’t.

They couldn’t. Could they?

What she wanted to say was, “From you?” like she had back then. Instead, she just shook her head and went to stand up, to put distance between them.

Only Asher grabbed her hand, his hold gentle as she stilled.

“I’ve missed you, Gwen,” he said softly. “I want you to know that.”

A lump of emotion and longing formed inside her throat.

Was he trying to make this a thousand times harder for her? More confusing? More need-inducing?

When she didn’t say anything but she also didn’t leave, he slowly moved closer, right up against her rock, so that he was standing between her dangling legs. He paused there. “I really want to kiss you, and not just in a dream, but I won’t if you say no, or if you need rescuing for real.”

This close, right in her space where she could feel the natural warmth of a dragon shifter radiating from his skin, feel his breath against her cheek…gods, he was temptation.

Gwen forced her gaze away, dropping it to her lap. It didn’t help. She still wanted to kiss him. “I—”

She shifted her gaze to the left and paused, then peered closer at his side.

What the—?

Then she choked.

Asher jerked to follow her gaze, searching the water around him for some threat maybe. “What’s wrong?”

She stared at him with her mouth ajar for enough time that he stopped searching for danger to bracket her face with his hands, his expression growing harder with concern. “Gwen—”

Author Bio:

Award-winning author, Abigail Owen, writes NA/YA romantasy and paranormal romance. She loves plots that move hot and fast, feisty heroines with sass, heroes with heart, a dash of snark, and oodles of HEAs!

Abbie has a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing) from Texas A&M University (gig’em Ags!), and an MBA from California State University-Sacramento. Prior to becoming a published author, she spent 15+ years using the other side of her brain in various tech- and business-related roles.

Other titles include: wife, mother, Star Wars geek, ex-competitive skydiver, AuDHD, spreadsheet lover, Jeopardy fanatic, organizational guru, true classic movie buff, linguaphile, wishful world traveler, and chocoholic.

Abigail currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own swoon-worthy hero, their (mostly) angelic teenagers, and two adorable fur babies.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok

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Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Daffodils and Deadly Deeds (Dotty Sayers Antique Mystery, #9) by Victoria Tait


Daffodils And Deadly Deeds
A Dotty Sayers Antique Mystery
Victoria Tait

Cozy Mystery
9th in Series
Setting - Northumberland
Publisher: Kanga Press
Publication Date: March 15, 2024
Number of Pages: 240 pages




A fraught family reunion. A corpse by the coast. Can an amateur sleuth crack this egg-xtraordinary mystery or be left scrambling for answers?

Spring signifies new beginnings, yet rookie antiques expert, Dotty Sayers, feels uncertain about her future. A colleague's invitation to Northumberland, in search of hidden family treasure, offers a fresh start. Once there, she immediately befriends her neighbour and assists with a prestigious project at a nearby castle. But when her mentor vanishes, and a body washes up in a secluded cove, Dotty wonders why so many people she knows end up dead.

Determined to assist, this budding amateur detective is hopping mad when the police ignore her insights. With the inquest approaching, Dotty must decide if she’s ready to crack open the case, even if it makes the local police inspector as mad as a March hare.

Can Dotty put aside her doubts and pull a rabbit out of the hat to ensure justice prevails?

5 stars!

Dotty investigates another suspicious death as she attempts to plan her future. 

Daffodils and Deadly Deeds is the ninth book in author Victoria Tait’s excellent cozy mystery series featuring young widow Dotty Sayers. Dotty is at a crossroads in her life, and she decides to take her friend, Zach, up on his offer for her to join him in Northumberland while he continues his search for family secrets and hidden treasure. Little does she know that rather than being a respite to plan her future, she will once again be solving a murder. 

I always look forward to catching up with Dotty Sayers, the main character of this lovely series. She’s gentle and kind, a people pleaser learning to consider her own worth, stand up for herself, and forge a path into the future that will please her. However, as this story opens, Dotty is drifting. She just completed her last project and is undecided on what to do next or where to do it: no goals and no responsibilities. I hate to say it, but the death of a recent acquaintance is just what she needs to regain her focus and avoid losing her emotional growth and momentum. 

The plot offers an unexpected and unusual case, with an aloof local inspector leading the day-to-day. I had no idea where things were heading and was completely reliant upon whatever Dotty would suss out. Starting with the victim, the whole story was one big twist. However, a part of the story deals with family relationships: the victim’s and Dotty’s. Readers get a good look into Dotty’s past as she struggles with the changes occurring with her parents and a brother she hasn’t had contact with in ten years. Some emotional moments crept up on me without warning, such as Karen’s story about their trip to the Falklands and Euan’s quiet tribute to fallen comrades there. 

As with all of the author’s books and series, her settings play an immensely interesting role and even the most remote, insignificant bungalow is atmospheric gold in her hands. I enjoyed the vivid descriptions of small villages, quaint shops, wild and natural walking trails, restaurants, and pubs with their many delicious dishes on offer. 

With its well-paced and intriguing plot, comfortable settings, and endearing main character, I recommend DAFFODILS AND DEADLY DEEDS to cozy mystery readers, even if they’ve not read any of the previous books in the series.


Victoria Tait was born and raised in Yorkshire, England. After following her military husband around the world, she drew on her life’s experiences, and a love of Agatha Christie, Father Brown, and Murder She Wrote, to write British based cozy mysteries.

Her determined female sleuths are joined by colourful and quirky teams of helpers, and her settings are vivid and realistic. As you’re compelled to keep turning the pages, you’ll be irresistibly drawn into a world where you’ll experience surprises, humour and sometimes, a tug on your heartstrings.

Do you like tea, mysteries, and books? Then why not join Victoria’s TeaCozy Club for regular news and updates, and download the free prequel to the Dotty Sayers Antique Mysteries series as a gift by visiting

Who doesn’t like tea, cake, and a slice of murder! 


March 18 – Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense – SPOTLIGHT
March 18 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT
March 19 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT
March 19 – Christy's Cozy Corners - REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST
March 20 – Reading, Writing & Stitch-Metic – AUTHOR GUEST POST
March 20 – Angel's Book Nook – SPOTLIGHT
March 21 – Review Thick And Thin – REVIEW
March 21 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT
March 22 – View from the Birdhouse – REVIEW
March 23 – Eskimo Princess Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
March 23 – Storybook Lady – SPOTLIGHT
March 24 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT
March 25 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT
March 25 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
March 26 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – REVIEW
March 27 – Brooke Blogs – RECIPE



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