Plug Your Book!

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2009-01-15T07:33:00.001-05:00

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Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-21T14:13:00.001-05:00

Plug Your Book has moved!

2007-11-13T12:11:00.000-05:00

Plug Your Book has moved to a new home. You can find us now at http://www.plugyourbook.wordpress.com/! Please change your links and we will not be updating this one. Thank you!

PARTIALLY HUMAN by Dwayne G. Anderson

2007-09-20T20:32:00.000-04:00

PARTIALLY HUMAN
Dwayne G. Anderson
Infinity
May 2007
978-0741439901

For Joshua Plofhard, a teenage good samaritan of Los Angeles, life is good. Well-known and well-liked by the city, loved by his friends, and adored by his new girlfriend, Joshua had it all. But when he becomes the victim of a freak mugging, a shocking secret about him is revealed, triggering a chain reaction of events that will forever change his life.

When it is discovered that Joshua carries the genes of a dying alien species in his body, life for him is turned upside-down. Now an outcast, rejected by the city that once welcomed him with open arms, Joshua is emotionally shattered by the events that have taken their toll upon him. With only his mother Alicia, friends Peter Christjes, Eric Blonfly, Rick Warris, girlfriend Kimberly Derth, and several others who come to sympathize with his plight, Joshua begins to pick up the pieces of his life.

But Joshua's problems are only beginning. Not only has Patrick Urtoma, a government agent been sent to investigate this alien teenager, but Veranda Oltzon, a candidate in the upcoming mayor election is exploiting the discrimination Joshua suffers to rally the public to her side. Also not helping is a mysterious serial killer who has now marked Joshua for death, driven by extreme prejudice against people like him.

As the countdown to his nineteenth birthday approaches, the day when the aliens return to reclaim what they created, Joshua learns many lessons about self-acceptance, friendship, compassion, loyalty, love, and how being different makes one unique. Together, he and his friends shall stand together againce the prejudice of an entire city and plea for tolerace towards all individuals, no matter who they are.

You can find out more about Dwayne and his book, PARTIALLY HUMAN, by clicking here.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Dwayne G. Anderson

LADY LIGHTKEEPER by Nikki Leigh

2007-09-17T00:00:00.000-04:00

Lady Lightkeeper
Nikki Leigh
http://www.nikkileigh.com/
Write Words, Inc
June 2007
978-1594314094

Lizbeth is a woman of uncommon strength and determination and that's one of the things that her husband William, loves about her. When an unexpected turn of events cuts Lizbeth's happiness short, that strength is tested in ways she never imagined. Her children are growing up in a time and place where death and loss are a common part of life.

While she struggles with her own fears, she must help her children find their way through an uncertain future. Lizbeth keeps an almost obsessive vigil from the lighthouse catwalk. This makes her the ideal choice for the new lightkeeper for the Stormy View lighthouse. She must decide if she's ready to move forward. Misty Cove residents are concerned about whether Duncan, the assistant lightkeeper, is hiding a dark secret? What long-buried secrets will challenge Lizbeth as she makes the journey through the pages of Lady Lightkeeper?

You can find out more about LADY LIGHTKEEPER by visiting Nikki's website at http://www.nikkileigh.com/.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Nikki Leigh, lighthouse

THREE STEPS TO INVESTMENT SUCCESS: BUYING THE RIGHT ART, ANTIQUES, AND COLLECTIBLES by Scott Zema

2007-09-12T00:00:00.000-04:00

Three Steps to Investment Success: Buying the Right Art, Antiques, and Collectibles
Art/ Antiques
Scott Zema
http://www.arklimitedpublishing.com/
Ark Limited Publishing
January '06

There are scads of books describing critical appreciation of art, antiques, and collectibles or buying and selling with respect to connoisseurship or retailing, but there is no book which embraces and systematically describes INVESTMENT in these properties—until now! THREE STEPS TO INVESTMENT SUCCESS: BUYING THE RIGHT ART, ANTIQUES, AND COLLECTIBLES or How to Guarantee a Profit from your Acquisitions is a groundbreaking work, a work that is the right book at the right time from the right expert!

THREE STEPS TO INVESTMENT SUCCESS: BUYING THE RIGHT ART, ANTIQUES, AND COLLECTIBLES simply and systematically brings the reader from haphazard consumer to purposeful investor. My book not only logically and thoroughly lays out investment principles in an informative and entertaining manner, but actually guarantees a profit for you in your investment activities if you follow my step-by-step approach to transforming yourself into a focused collector (Chapter Nine provides the simple and foolproof formula for redeeming investments.) And all of this is done without compromising your tastes in the pleasurable activity that defines the collecting experience!

You can find out more about THREE STEPS TO INVESTMENT SUCCESS: BUYING THE RIGHT ART, ANTIQUES, AND COLLECTIBLES by visiting Scott's website at http://www.arklimitedpublishing.com/.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Scott Zema, art appraiser

RIGHT TO RECOVER: WINNING THE POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS WARS OVER STEM CELL RESEARCH IN AMERICA

2007-09-06T00:00:00.000-04:00

RIGHT TO RECOVER Winning the Political and Religious Wars over Stem Cell Research in America

Yvonne Perry

Health/Medicine

Nightengale Press

October 1, 2007

ISBN 10: 1-933449-41-1

ISBN 13: 978-1-933449-41-8

RIGHT TO RECOVER Winning the Political and Religious Wars over Stem Cell Research in America is an educational book that sheds light on the way Americans view embryonic stem cell biology. The book contains well-researched facts about all types of stem cell (bone marrow, amniotic and cord blood) treatments presently being used and their restorative effects. It also explores the research being done using stem cells derived from in-vitro fertilized eggs on laboratory animals and presents findings to support its curative potential on humans.

The information in this book was derived from intensive research, personal interviews, emails and other correspondence with national and international medical doctors, research scientists, religious leaders and elected officials as well as stories from patients, who hope to transform their lives through stem cell implants. Bible references are used to show why a 4- to 5-day-old mass of human cells in a lab dish is NOT an embryo; it’s not even an organism.

You can visit Yvonne's website at http://www.right2recover.com/ to learn more about her book, RIGHT TO RECOVER Winning the Political and Religious Wars over Stem Cell Research in America.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Yvonne Perry, Right to Recover

, stem cell research

ONLY MOMENTS

2007-09-05T00:00:00.000-04:00

ONLY MOMENTS
Nick Oliva
Publish America
April 2007
ISBN-10: 142417077X
ISBN-13: 978-1424170777

The story opens in the year 2020, with a romantic/erotic dream sequence and waking of one lonely sixty-six year-old widower Chris Vadia, a retired professional musician, and his sullen celibate perspective due to his wife dying fifteen years earlier. After establishing the time period and showing the impossibility of replacing human intimacy with the high-tech devices of the period, we flashback fifty years to 1970. The story then leads to the serendipitous and comic circumstances of how he met the love of his life, while on a wild summer vacation driving through California with three friends. A beach in Big Sur is the dramatic background for the fairy tale loss of their virginity.

Time then shifts chapter to chapter, through their college days, marriage, their struggling and successes, parental deaths, the World Trade Towers disaster, their Carnegie Hall debut, and then the crisis of having grown so far apart despite being with each other 24 hours a day. The novel explores how the deep flaws of both individuals bring them together through life, and how the chance actions of childhood experiences run so deep that they ultimately affect an entire life. At age 51, she dies; the cause of Chris' mental downfall. The reader then finds Chris in the present and the reason for the quick flashbacks of time from when he first began reminiscing on his beachside outdoor deck. The book’s climax occurs as Chris goes through a body/soul separation that is literally the culmination of all the previous chapters by using a device of repeating phrases (shown in italics) from previous chapters that now bear new meanings. The reader can now also understand that the opening dream in the first chapter was a foretelling of the entire book.

In the last chapter, his finds his life dramatically changed for the better as a result of his experience from a powerful singular event.

The unforgiving world, the false hope of technology, the commonality of human emotion throughout history ties into an uplifting romantic fairy tale. The underlying theme is the imperfection of all things human and the unrelenting passage of time, but is written in a very positive manner. The road, throughout the novel is representative of one’s life path and sense of discovery.

You can find out more about ONLY MOMENTS by visiting Nick's website at http://www.onlymomentsbook.com/.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Nick Oliva, Only Moments

COMING BACK A VIRGIN

2007-09-04T00:00:00.000-04:00

Coming Back a Virgin

CJ Maxx
Fantasy erotic romance
Whiskey Creek Press-torrid
August 1, 2007
ISBN: 978-1-59374-971-2

This story is about fictional character Lorraine who is given the mission of teaching her author, Walter Riggins, to write romance in a meaningful and entertaining manner instead of the pornographic scenes depicted in his vanity-published novels.

Empowered by Papa H, the man that runs the fictional character haven in the sky, she takes charge of Walter’s life. Using excerpts from his previous books and personal attention to keep him focused, Walter finally masters the art of writing romantic scenes.

Delighted with her role in Walter’s life, she wants to make it permanent. She returns home, hoping to come back as a human.

Programmed with normal memories and knowledge, but little actual experience, she moves into his house, taking over his bedroom, relegating him to the sofa. Walter expected the old Lorraine, what he got was a new Lorraine, a virginal copy of the original. He knows what he has to do—seduce her.

You can find out more about COMING BACK A VIRGIN here!

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, CJ Maxx, Coming Back a Virgin, erotic romance

DOMINIC

2007-09-03T00:00:00.000-04:00

DOMINIC

Hazel Statham

Georgian Romance

Wings ePress

ISBN Electronic ISBN 978-1-59705-226-9

POD ISBN 978-1-59705-800-1

August 2007

London 1775 - Dominic Blake, Earl of Vale, is a young man of privilege and breeding whose world is turned upside-down by Jack, a beautiful young girl in boys' clothing whom he finds sheltering on his doorstep after fleeing an attack by her brother.

Despite leaving his protection, Jack is once more destined to enter Dominic's life when, injured in a horse race, Dominic is forced to rusticate to his father's estate and again meets Jack in her boyish guise. In turn, she becomes his pupil and his love.

Despite danger and misunderstandings, this is the story of their unconventional and delightful courtship.

To find out more about Hazel and her book, DOMINIC, click here!

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Hazel Statham, Dominic, historical romance

IN THE ARMS OF A WARRIOR

2007-08-29T01:06:00.000-04:00

IN THE ARMS OF A WARRIOR
C.J. Maxx
Erotic Romance (contemporary)
Mardis Gras Publishing
978-1934329108
December 2006

Susan Ambrose’s father wore a Green Beret, her grandfather wore a Green Beret, her brother’s a Ranger. The last thing she wants is to fall in love with a soldier and watch him march off to war. Falling for David Wilson, the new Lead Engineer for Avondale Industries’ defense contract, seems to be the answer to her prayers until she realizes, too late, that he’s also a warrior.

To find out more about IN THE ARMS OF A WARRIOR, visit C.J.'s website at http://www.cjmaxx.net/.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, C.J. Maxx, In the Arms of a Warrior

WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE

2007-08-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE
PG Forte
Erotic Romance (contemporary)
Liquid Silver Books
978-1-59578-350-9
May 21, 2007

Like everyone else in LA, Gabby is waiting for The Big One. The big break that will make her a star. The big quake that will rock the city to its knees. Or, in this case, the Big O—the elusive, G-spot, ultra orgasm. She thinks she's found the guy who’ll give it to her when she meets Zach, the super hot musician who's just moved into her building. But Gabby's quest to find true love and ultimate pleasure with the rock guitarist of her dreams is complicated by her friendship with Derek, the martial arts instructor with whom she's co-writing a screenplay.

Up until now, Gabby has refused to even consider Derek for the role of soul mate because she fears sex will ruin their friendship. But, Derek has ideas of his own about that, and they don’t include sharing Gabby with anybody.

To find out more about WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE, visit PG's website at http://www.pgforte.com/.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, PG Forte, Waiting for the Big one

RETURN TO ZANDRIA

2007-08-16T12:40:00.000-04:00

RETURN TO ZANDRIA
Christine Norris
MG/YA
LBF Books
978-1-885093-51-6
July 2007

Ivy Peterson was not ordinary. Ivy was More-Than-Ordinary because once she found herself in a very special place and had a very special adventure.

But Ivy was far too old for fairy tales...wasn’t she?

It has been three years since Ivy recovered the Talisman of Zandria, and her life is very different. She is no longer the shy young girl who chased a fairy through a magic gate, but a teenager, concerned with clothes, friends and school. She has nearly forgotten about the special world that exists on the other side of a thin magical veil.

But they have not forgotten her.

Now a crisis is brewing in Zandria, and only Ivy can help. They implore her to come to their aid, and Ivy’s memories of adventure pull her once again into the enchanted world of mermaids, dragons and wizards. Reunited with old friends, and bringing a new one along for the ride, Ivy must now lead them into the wilds of her own world, and not only keep them safe but stop an empire from falling into the clutches of evil.

For more information, visit http://www.christine-norris.com/!

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Christine Norris, Return to Zandria

JUDGMENT FIRE

2007-08-16T00:00:00.000-04:00

JUDGMENT FIRE
Marilyn Meredith
Mystery
Mudania Press 0-9782157-02
August 2007

A shaman warns Deputy Tempe Crabtree her life is in danger. The death of a battered wife leads Tempe to participate in a Native American starlight ceremony that brings back hidden memories of her painful high school days. She attempts to help the delinquent son of the murdered woman, is threatened by his step-father, the primary murder suspect, deals with a man who may be mentally ill, and renews acquaintances with not such good friends from her younger years. A second fire brings judgment to the guilty party.

For more information, visit http://www.fictionforyou.com/!

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Marilyn Meredith, Judgment Fire

THE EARRINGS OF IXTUMEA

2007-08-09T09:21:00.000-04:00

THE EARRINGS OF IXTUMEA

Kim Baccellia
Young Adult Multicultural Fantasy
Virtual Tales
0-9782157-02

July 2007

Fourteen-year-old Lupe Hernandez wishes she was blond, white, and popular. She dismisses the legend her Mexican grandmother tells about a treasured family heirloom—a pair of ruby earrings—as a silly fairytale, despite recurring nightmares of human sacrifice whenever she wears them. But when the earrings thrust her into the parallel world of Ixtumea, she must confront the very thing she shuns the most—her cultural heritage.Lupe’s journey takes her through a dense Mayan jungle to the damp underground kingdom of Malvado, where a rebel leader plots to keep her from fulfilling her destiny. She is guided by a hot warrior protector named Teancum, who tells her about a prophecy of a long-awaited young prophetess—which happens to be Lupe. She trains with the Spider Goddess, who teaches her the sacred knots that bind both worlds together. And she meets her long-lost mother, Concha—who is now a dangerous enemy.

Life as Lupe knows it will never be the same!

For more information, visit http://www.kim-baccellia.com/!

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Kim Baccellia, The Earrings of Ixtumea

THE TRUTH, I'M TEN, I'M SMART AND I KNOW EVERYTHING by Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein

2007-08-08T00:00:00.000-04:00

THE TRUTH, I'm Ten, I'm Smart and I Know Everything

Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein
Women, Girls 10 - 14
Lady Bug Press
13 978-1-889409-35-1

July 1, 2007

My new book, THE TRUTH, My Secret Diary, I'm Ten, I'm Smart and I Know Everything, is a delightful, humorous secret diary, written by a girl who is 10-11 years of age. She is wise and yet so innocent. She makes us cry and laugh and remember ourselves. Behind this very easy read is the psychological message to the women reading THE TRUTH that they can and must recapture the fire and passion of their girlhoods not only for themselves to flourish and be happy, but for the next generation to also have the gifts of good emotional and spiritual health.

Women love the book and so do girls, ages 10-14. Women find it a pure delight-a hot fudge sundae with a secret message inside and no weight gain, while girls recognize themselves and finally feel totally understood!

For more information, visit http://www.enchantedself.com/

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Dr. Barbara Becker Holstein, The Truth: I'm Ten, I'm Smart and I Know Everything

THE ART OF THE BUSINESS LUNCH by Robin Jay

2007-08-01T10:59:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: “The Art of the Business Lunch ~ Building Relationships Between 12 and 2”
Genre: Non-Fiction, Business, Business Relationships/Sales
Author: Robin Jay
Website: http://www.robinjay.com/
Publisher: Career Press
Date of Release: Feb. 2006
ISBN: 1564148513

You can purchase The Art of the Business Lunch here!

People prefer to do business with people they like…and there is no better way to get to know someone than by sharing a meal with them. But a lot can go wrong IF you are not prepared. Robin Jay has personally hosted more than 3,000 client lunches and saw her sales increase by more than 2000%! She knew she was on to something and wrote this book to help other business professionals. No matter what industry you are in, you will benefit by discovering the art of the business lunch.

Is it ever okay to order alcohol at a business meal? When should you bring up the subject of business? Why would an employer prefer to interview candidates over lunch, instead of in the office? These questions and many more are answered, along with tips and techniques for excelling at networking events and brushing up on etiquette. Readers will reap tremendous benefits by applying the valuable information Robin shares in this book.

For more information, visit http://www.robinjay.com/!

*****

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Robin Jay, The Art of the Business Lunch

SHE CRIES IN THE DARK

2007-07-25T19:23:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: She Cries in the Dark
Genre: Contemporary romance
Author: Debi DeSantis
Website: http://www.debidesantis.com/
Publisher: Lulu
Date of Release: March 2007
ISBN: 978-1-4303-1998-6

You can purchase She Cries in the Dark here.

She Cries in the Dark Summary:

Maci Sullivan is beautiful young wife and mother who had everything she could ever want. A loving devoted husband, two happy, healthy twin six year olds, and a wonderful family. But when things seem to be going great, a series of life altering events will take place which leave Maci thrown into a whirlwind of grief and heartache she never thought possible. A nightmare was lurking around every corner that Maci was not able to awake from. After discovering a secret that leaves Maci questioning the life and love she once shared with her husband she finds solace and comfort in the arms of another man. Not able to hide their feelings for one another any longer, the two embark on a journey that will allow two people that have lost so much, the opportunity to once again experience the joy of love and passion.

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Debi DeSantis

THE COMPLETE IDIOT'S GUIDE TO SHORT MEDITATIONS by Susan Gregg

2007-07-23T21:46:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: The Complete Idiot's Guide to Short Meditations
Genre: Self Help; Inspiration
Author: Susan Gregg
Website: http://susangregg.com/
Publisher: Alpha (April 3, 2007)
ISBN: 978-1592576142

Buy The Complete Idiot's Guide to Short Meditations here!

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Short Meditations Summary:

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Short Meditations offers you a variety of simple—yet powerful—mediations designed to improve quality of life by quieting the mind. This book shows you how to feel like you have more time, how to enjoy life more deeply and passionately, and how to handle everyday life without stress.--Step-by-step exercises ease readers into meditation techniques--Includes short meditations that can be done anywhere, anytime--Meditations progressively build, gradually leading toward a deeper connection with the self while working at the reader’s own pace.

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Short Meditations Excerpt:

Work That Mind!

If you join the gym and never go, your body probably won’t change much. If you go to the gym but never lift any weights, there still won’t be much change. But, if you go to the gym regularly and work out vigorously, your body will change. If you hire a personal trainer to help you meet your goals and follow her suggestions, you will progress even faster and you can create the body of your dreams.

This book is your membership to the universal gym of personal growth. If you use the meditations regularly, your life will change. Think of me as your personal coach and follow the suggestions throughout the book so you can create the life of your dreams. Actually, my experience has been that you will create a life beyond your wildest dreams.

The more you practice, the greater the benefits and the easier it will be. Once you learn how to ride a bike, you never forget. Learning to ride the bike does take practice. Using guided meditations also takes a little bit of practice, but the benefits are well worth the effort.

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Susan Gregg

YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH: EVERY WOMAN'S GUIDE TO PURPOSE, PASSION, AND POWER by Judi Moreo

2007-07-19T01:02:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: You Are More Than Enough: Every Woman's Guide to Purpose, Passion, and Power
Genre: Self Help; Inspiration
Author: Judi Moreo
Website: http://www.judimoreo.com/ http://www.purposepassionpower.com/
Publisher: Stephens Press
Date of Release: 2007
ISBN: 1-932173-72-2

Buy You Are More Than Enough: Every Woman's Guide to Purpose, Passion, and Power here!

You Are More Than Enough: Every Woman's Guide to Purpose, Passion, and Power Summary:

This book is for people who think they should have been more successful by now. It is also for people who want something, but don't know what it is! It will help them find their life purpose, get over any disappointments and discouragements and get headed in the right direction.

This book helps you decide what you want to achieve in order to accomplish that "something more" you know is your destiny. It will help you determine what you can change in order to live a more fulfilling life...a life of purpose, passion, and power.

Throughout this book I share tools and techniques that I used which helped me immensely in my journey to becoming the person I knew I could be. If "You Are More Than Enough" helps even one person have a better life, it will have been worth the time and effort it took to write it.

You Are More Than Enough: Every Woman's Guide to Purpose, Passion, and Power Excerpt:

"If stayng in your comfort zone hasn't brought you the success you want, maybe its time you stepped out of it. When you set goals, you are no longer leaving your future to chance. You are actually choosing to make changes in your life. Be prepared to feel a little uneasy at the prospect of doing things you haven't done before, and give yourself time to adjust to new situations. When we do things we haven't done before or attempt things we've only dreamed of, we often feel fears...fear of getting lost, fear of not knowing what to do, fear of looking stupid, feat that we are not "good enough", fear of rejection and many more. It's natural to feel fear. Identify and understand your fears. Only then will you be able to defeat them."

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Judi Moreo

THE GATEKEEPER'S REALM by Elena Dorothy Bowman

2007-07-17T00:34:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: The Gatekeeper's Realm
Genre: Romance, Paranormal, Science Fiction
Author: Elena Dorothy Bowman
Website: http://elenadb.home.comcast.net/
Publisher: Write Words, Inc., Cambridge Books
Date of Release: May 31, 2007
ISBN: 1594314519

Buy The Gatekeeper's Realm here!

The Gatekeeper's Realm Summary:

When the guests started disappearing one or two at a time they knew then the house, its uninvited and mysterious guests, held them in their grip.

Believing they were being held captive by the house, to the land surrounding it, and to the bay beyond, they felt they had no choice but to see where it would all lead.

The unnerving feeling of always being watched crept over them; that creepy-hair-rising feeling something, somewhere, monitoring their every move was waiting.

Waiting for what? To catch them off guard, to whisk them away to a place from which would never return?

The Gatekeeper's Realm Excerpt:

Pacing back and forth on the Widow's Walk overlooking the bay and the vast ocean beyond it, Abigail nervously awaited the arrival of her first guests. They were coming by boat — Ethan's boat. Ethan and Tony Harridan, the town's sheriff, a sometimes-permanent resident of the infamous Inn when he wasn't working at his job on the mainland, met their first adventurers at the dock in Caleb's Cove. Once the group had gathered, they were to board the Abigail for a sightseeing cruise along the coastline and the sea-lanes between the various islands to the Inn on Adam's Point — all part of the package.

Knowing it would add an air of mystery to the Inn, formerly known as the foreboding Pierce House, Abigail and Ethan set the stage for their guests by having them approach the house overlooking the bay in a modern day, state-of-the-art, two-masted schooner. It was up to Ethan and Tony to mesmerize them with tales of Abigail's and their own ominous beginnings in the house, and how the Inn came to be. The stories included: the relic of the Royal Knight, the significance of the special Land Grant displayed in a frame on the wall, the haunting strains emanating from an elusive Stradivarius, and the legend surrounding Adam's Point. And, of course, there was the possibility of becoming entangled in a web the Inn might weave. Ethan brushed over the fact that he was the first person who dared sail into the Bay of Death alone. And announced that the guests now had the honor of being the first full ship's complement to break the curse on the bay leading up to the old Pierce House, now officially known as The House On The Bluff.

Abigail smiled inwardly wishing she could see the looks on their faces while held in the grip of the stories. She was afraid her first guests might take one look at the place, even though it was all the publicity said it was, bolt and change their minds once the Abigail dropped anchor. Then Ethan and Tony would have to turn around and take them back to Caleb's Cove, and she would be alone again on Adam's Point. Well, not really.

The brochure assured those who sought a new and different vacation that they would not be disappointed. It trumpeted a vacation hideaway that had no electricity, no running water, pumps only, no central heating system, no phones and no television. It also boasted of fabulously appointed rooms, fireplaces, breathtaking ocean views, swimming, underwater caves, sailing, and a touch of suspense and intrigue.

The beautiful crystal clear bay had a special attraction. For centuries, it was noted, no ships, sail or otherwise, had ventured upon the waters leading to the House On The Bluff, due to the nefarious blot upon it. Since the time of the pirates, the sound had been known as the Bay of Death, not only for the ships who were ensnared within but also for those who sailed aboard them. Now, however, any brave soul who cared to dive beneath the sea, properly attired in protective gear, could take the time to wander among the wreckage of the ships that lay scattered on the bottom of the bay. Ships that had in times past attempted to sail into its waters — that is, if one had a mind to venture forth — at their own peril.

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Elene Dorothy Bowman

THE WOMEN OF CAMP SOBINGO by Marilyn Celeste Morris

2007-07-16T23:46:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: The Women of Camp Sobingo
Genre: Mainstream, Women's Fiction
Author: Marilyn Celeste Morris
Blog: http://www.thewomenofcampsobingo.blogspot.com/
Publisher: Mardi Gras Publications
Date of Release: June 9, 2007
ISBN: 1-934329-73-8

Buy The Women of Camp Sobingo here!

The Women of Camp Sobingo Summary:

This novel is based on my mother's experiences as an army wife sent to join her husband in Seoul, Korea, in the winter of 1946, where she endured brutal cold, numbing loneliness and a primitive environment despite the US Army's attempts in providing amenities such as housing, commissary, post exchange and a dependents school located in the compound named Camp Sobingo.

She forged friendships with three other women, whose backgrounds are disclosed during the narrative, whom she met on board the USAT General Mayo crossing the stormy Pacific, friendships which sustained her and the other women who shared that life. Bridge was a past time which helped ensure their mutual sanity; despite their friendships, however, one of the women committed suicide in that remote country.At age nine, I had been a silent witness to my mother's enduring strength and wondered for many years why this one woman had chosen to end her life there. From that point, a story formed, exploring each woman's background and the strengths each possessed from childhood to maturity.In The Women of Camp Sobingo, near the close of their tour of duty, the women promised they would hold a reunion twenty-five years later, and they kept their promise. Secrets and sorrows are revealed at that reunion and Trudy Cavanaugh, the lead character who now runs a publishing empire, realizes how assumptions and secrets can cloud one's memories and while she treasures her old friendships, she is at last able to let go of the past.

The Women of Camp Sobingo Excerpt:

Leah-Mary Alice

The Early Years

She was called The Dark Goddess. With her exotic coloring, black hair and dark eyes, Leah Damon was in demand everywhere for modeling jobs. She lunched with the best of society and was a prized decoration at parties. Her face appeared on covers of high fashion magazines and her paycheck enabled her to buy a luxurious apartment overlooking Central Park.
Leah Damon was a success.

Mary Alice Thomason, however, was a constant reminder of what she had once been.
Mary Alice was born in a small town near Tulsa, Oklahoma. From a dark-eyed infant she grew into a wide-eyed precocious child who gracefully avoided that awkward phase which afflicted other girls at puberty.

She sprouted no pimples, had no struggles with unruly hair, had posture or overweight. While her classmates worried about these ailments, the teenager Mary Alice woke one morning in a perfectly developed woman’s body.

Girls hated and envied her while boys fought for her attention. Not one of those males, however, could rightly claim he was “going steady” with Mary Alice Thomason. She remained cool, pleasant and chaste.

There was only one blemish on her childhood. It seemed that as Mary Alice grew, she noticed that her parents were considerably older than those of her friends.

And, where she was dark—haired and brown-eyed, her mother was fair and blue—eyed. When she questioned her mother about this, she received an abrupt answer: “It’s your Black Dutch ancestors. Don’t worry about it.”

And Mary Alice would put any further questions in the back of her mind.

Until she overheard her aunts whispering about “the poor child” and when she inquired, they changed the subject, looking at her with pity in their eyes.

She knew better than to question her mother again, so she simply filed these chance remarks away and laid her differences to her Black Dutch ancestors.

Whoever they were.

Her one constant friend during her growing up years was David Barnes, a neighborhood boy who often studied with her at the table in the Thomason’s warm kitchen. Both sets of parents assumed their children would marry when they were of age, a fact that both David and Mary Alice would have gradually come to accept had it not been for several occurrences during her school years.

One languid summer day, while locusts shrilled from live oak trees, David and Mary Alice, sweat soaked and burned bronze by the searing Oklahoma sun, sought refuge in the Thomason’s barn, where they rejoiced in the end of another school year and their simultaneous passage into the fifth grade.

“I’m gonna be a pilot when I grow up,” David boasted. His chin jutted out and he stuck out his chest as if it were already covered with ribbons.

Mary Alice rolled over on her stomach and contemplated the view from the hayloft.

“You gonna be a nurse?” David prompted, irked by her lack of enthusiasm for his choice of profession. He flopped beside her and stripped off his shirt.

“No, I’m gonna be a model.” She stared at his chest.

“A model? That’s that?”

“It’s like in the movies, only it’s before the main movie starts——the newsreels, where they show the latest styles from New York. The ladies walk around in front of people, wearing long, pretty dresses, and fur coats and joolery. People sit and look at them and go ‘ooh,’ and ‘Ahhhh’, and clap their hands.”

She sat, a dreamy look on her flushed face.

“Bathing suits, too, don’t forget. You’ll have to show almost your whole body, Mary Alice.”
She shrugged. “What’ s wrong with that? You’re showing almost your whole body.”

“A guy can show his chest. A girl’s not supposed to.”

“Oh, phooey! I’ll show you my chest.” She pulled off the light cotton blouse. “See? There’s nothing wrong with it.”

David stared, openmouthed. He had noticed months ago that Mary Alice’s dresses had funny bumps underneath. He reached out and touched the pink nipples.

“You’re not supposed to touch! Only look,” she giggled. Nonetheless, she didn’t remove his hand.
“Touch me, Mary Alice.”

She lightly touched his bare chest. “I can feel your heart beating.”

“I can feel yours, too.”

“Are we doing something wrong, David?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She frowned. “I don’t think this is what my folks told me not to do. It had somethin’ to do with birds and cows and stuff—”

Below the loft, hens clucked disapprovingly, but the children didn’t hear them. The smells of warm hay and sweat and dust mingled in the still, moist air.

“You wanna see my whole body?” she asked.

He nodded, his hands still on her bumps.

“Well, move.” She wriggled out of her shorts and panties and lay naked before him.

“Now you. It’s your turn.” She smiled lazily at him.

David hastily shed his pants and shorts and lay beside her.

“You’re pretty,” he whispered.

“You’re not looking at my face.”

“More to a girl than just a face, my daddy says. Gotta have a body, too. Mary Alice, I think we’re pretty close to doin’ what grown-ups do——you know——” his face turned crimson and he reached for his trousers.

“We’re not doing anything.” She reached for his hands and put them back on her breasts. See?”

“What in thunder you kids doin’ up there?” Lewis Thomason’s voice boomed from below.

David turned white and threw on his pants; Mary Alice hastily retrieved her clothes and slid them on her bare body.

“David Barnes, your daddy wants you home right away.”

They heard her father’s heavy tread on the ladder, and then his head peered over the ledge.

“What you kids find to do all day up there, anyway?”

“Nothin, Papa.”

“I’m gonna be a pilot, Mr. Thomason,” David said. “Mary Alice says she’s gonna be in the movies.”

“Not the movies, you dumbbell.” She stood and dusted the hay from her rounded bottom. “A model. I told you, a model.”

They followed Lewis down the ladder.

“How you gonna do that? Models are in Hollywood and here you are, stuck in Oklahoma.” David continued.

“Shows you how much you know, smarty. Models are in New York. So I’ll go to New York.”
They rounded the barn where David would take the path to his house. “See you tomorrow?”

Mary A1ice looked at her father, who preceded her towards her house. She shook her head, then said in low tones, “I don’t think so.”

“You comin,’ Mary Alice?” her father called.

“In a minute, Papa.”

They watched Lewis enter the house; the screen door whined and shut with a thud.

“I won’t do it again, honest,” David pleaded. “I know what we did was wrong.”

She looked at him a long minute, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’m not going up there with you again. But I liked it, David,” she laughed as she ran toward the house. “I really did like it!”

The children never spoke of that day again. Mary Alice and David grew up, and then apart, neighbors and schoolmates, but they never forgot how close they had been that one hot summer day.

###

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WEEKENDS by Lindy S. Hudis

2007-07-12T10:09:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: WEEKENDS
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Author: Lindy S. Hudis
Website: http://directorbabe.tripod.com/
Publisher: LBF Books
Date of Release: January 28, 2006
ISBN: 978-0977308217

BUY WEEKENDS HERE!

WEEKENDS SUMMARY:

An innocent-sounding family reunion at an exclusive California beach resort turns into a weekend of murder, deceit, exposed secrets and unexpected intimate encounters. John Peterson has it all: he is a respected, successful Beverly Hills entertainment lawyer with a loving wife and grown son, the strikingly handsome young film director Joe Peterson. John also has a secret, and he decides to gather his disparate family members at the elegant Hotel Del Moor in picturesque Linda Bella, California for some luxurious fun, togetherness and re-connecting before revealing his secret. Unbeknownst to the family, a brutal serial killer is lurking in the midst of all the wondrous festivities.

###

Weekends Excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

The plane touched down at the Santa Barbara airport around ten a.m. During the short flight from LAX, John Peterson contemplated the weekend ahead. He had not seen his younger siblings in ten years, and was looking forward to seeing them and their families. He was also very concerned, because he had bad news to break to all of them. Very bad news, and everybody’s life would be affected. He was nervous as to what the family’s reaction would be. John was a fifty-year-old, extremely successful entertainment lawyer in Beverly Hills. His clients included rich and powerful movie stars, producers, and studio heads - they were the reason for his phenomenal success. He was the kind of man who silenced rooms when he entered them, and would tell another man’s children to be quiet.

Sitting next to John was Joyce Peterson, his wife, age forty-seven. She was born and raised in Los Angeles, and being the daughter of a prominent L.A. heart surgeon, was used to the good life. Her one and only dream was to marry a rich doctor or lawyer, have children, and be a good wife.

Then there was Joe. Joe was the twenty-three year old son of John and Joyce. To say that Joe was good-looking would be the understatement of the year. Joe was beautiful. He looked like a work of art, a Greek god. He had long, blond hair that hung just below his shoulders, and fantastic azure eyes, the color of the California sky itself. His body, although on the thin side, was cut and lean, with pronounced chest, biceps, and a washboard stomach. The facial structure, with its defined jaw and cheekbones, was captivating in its exquisite, masculine beauty. He could easily be a beautiful woman on testosterone.

He, like his mother, was born and raised into wealth in L.A., but his goal was not to become a doctor or a lawyer. He had just graduated from New York University Film School. Although his looks were better suited for being in front of the camera, his dream was to become a movie director. Having inherited his father’s magisterial personality, he simply answered, “Because I don’t like being told what to do.” whenever he was asked why he was not an actor. Through his father’s many industry connections, Joe was not at a loss for employment. He chose, however, to start at the bottom, doing Production Assistant work to get his foot in the door. His father told him it builds character, and advised him to “work for it” rather than have it handed to him. Because he was also very charming, he was meeting and networking with all the right people. The only direction Joe was going was up.

As the plane landed, the family unbuckled their seatbelts, even though the steward had instructed the passengers not to. When the plane came to a complete stop, the family was the first ones off. Joe passed by three flight attendants who gazed at him, with a look on their faces that Joe saw all the time. He smiled and bid them good-bye.

The three hiked through the jet-way into the busy airport, carrying their weekend luggage with them. They took the escalator to the lower level where the car rental stations were. While John was making arrangements for the family to rent at nice, slow sedan, Joe stepped outside. It was a hot Spring morning; a light, cool breeze offered relief from the sweltering heat.

The famous California sunshine shone brightly, reflecting off Joe’s equally golden hair. He squinted his sapphire eyes to look at it, and decided that he was determined to enjoy the insipid family reunion that his father was forcing him to attend. He did not have much in common with his simpleton cousins. Some of them he had not seen in ten years, although his father’s brother, Uncle Stephen, kept in touch with them by phone. It was, of course, just a weekend.

It was now Friday morning, they would be back home by Monday, and not much happens over weekends anyway. He decided that he would just smile and say hello to the many relatives that will be in attendance. At least, he had his own room, hopefully with cable television and an oceanview. Maybe getting away for the weekend on a mini-vacation would do him good, and he could relax a little. An older lady and a pretty, teenage girl walked by, both turning and smiling at him. He smiled back.

At only twenty-three, he was very aware of the amazing power he had over women, and as he got older, it would only get more intense. Females started throwing themselves at him when he was fifteen, and the feeling was more than mutual. He loved women, and would never use his power for cruel or destructive purposes, like many attractive, rich men do. That was not his style. Quite a few of his Beverly Hills buddies teased him for that. “Take the goods and run”, the guys said, and kidded him for being so sensitive.

Joe was not like the other guys, being a romantic, he honestly believed that there was the love of his life out there somewhere. He was determined to find her, but he wanted to win his Oscar first. The sliding glass doors of the airport flew open and John and Joyce hurried out. Joyce was carrying the keys to the Lincoln Continental that would take them to their final destination, the elegant Hotel Del Moor, overlooking the mighty Pacific Ocean. The three climbed inside the automobile, secured their luggage, and took off, with John driving, Joyce up front, and Joe in the back.

The family cruised north along the Pacific Coast Highway, with it’s incredible, palm-tree lined vision of the long, sandy beach that stretched all along the length of the Golden State. While Joyce and John were heatedly discussing who would be there, what to do, and so on, Joe gazed out the window, lost in thought. The enormous ocean and the endless sky met over the horizon, both equally wondrous and awe inspiring. Joe rested his head against the plush back of the seat and just stared at the blueness of the sea, and the swaying palm trees.

He thought about his life and how lucky he was. Being the adored only child of a wealthy L.A. lawyer and a loving mother, not to mention his genetic good fortune, he was thankful the world was at his feet.

###

Tags: Plug Your Book!, book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Lindy S. Hudis, romantic suspense

2007-07-08T19:49:00.000-04:00

SILENCED CRY by Marta Stephens

Title of Book: Silenced Cry
Genre: Crime/Mystery
Author: Marta Stephens
Website: http://www.martastephens-author.com/
Publisher: BeWrite Books (UK)
Date of Release: April 23, 2007
ISBN: 978-1-905202-72-0

BUY SILENCED CRY HERE!

SUMMARY:

Homicide detective Sam Harper is torn between guilt and suspicion after his partner is shot and killed in what should have been a routine pick-up for questioning.

The discovery of an infant’s skeletal remains in an abandoned building leads Harper to unearth murky secrets involving those he respects most. His former partner, his revered boss -- even his police hero father are under suspicion if drug-dealing, corruption, rape, and murder. For the first time in his life, Harper must stand alone in a fog of lies where dangerous truths loom forth and the boundaries between pursuer and prey blur. Harper is left to decide how far he must go to hunt down the answers and what will he do when he finds them? Worse, what Harper uncovers leaves him with a sense he can trust no one, not even himself.

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1

The hour-long sessions started at nine in the morning, twice a week, whether narcotics detective, Sam Harper liked it or not. The only good thing about this damp and cold Massachusetts morning was that it marked the midpoint of Harper’s commitment. Internal Affairs had drilled him for three days in a row. Now the police shrink wanted a piece of him. He was sick of her dogged questions. That was his job, to wear the other guy down. Three sessions left, three hours of digging into his past, into the events of that night – that goddamned night.
Neither the mild vanilla scent floating up from a flickering candle on the doctor’s desk nor the subtle gurgle bubbling from a tabletop fountain were doing their job to relax him. Harper rubbed the arms of the leather chair with his thumb as he calculated his next move. He stared at her and finally broke the silence.

“You ever kill a man, Doc?” A subtle twitch of her brow told him he had her attention. “A split second. That’s all it takes, pull the trigger, and whoosh! He’s gone.”

Dr Brannon lowered her gaze and resumed her scribbling. The navy overstuffed chair seemed to swallow her small frame.

“Why did you go there?”

“Mellow was our only link in the case. At least that’s what Gillies thought. He told me every damned thing hinged on getting to Mellow before homicide got their hands on him.”
“And you had reservations?”

Harper looked away as the Chandler Police Department psychiatrist took notes of his crumbling life.

“Does it matter?” His glance swept up to the dark panelled wall behind her desk. Framed certificates hung in an orderly row like crows on a wire. They mapped out her qualification and gave credence to her ego.

He didn’t need her to question his motives or to dig into his past and drag the memories of that night to the surface. They were there, frozen in Harper’s mind – the second he got off his round. He’d never forget the blast or the hammering rain beating against his face. The look of Frank Gillies’ lifeless eyes had scorched itself into his memory. Harper leaned forward and dropped his head. Fists jammed against his eyes as if to rub out the intruding images. He had spun the moment any number of ways, but the outcome never changed.

Brannon crossed her legs. She folded her hands and tapped her fingertips. She watched in silence, waiting to analyze his next thoughts.

“You do realize you don’t go back to work without these sessions.” She picked up the notepad again. The sound of her pen striking twice against its surface made dull impatient clicks. “Look, Detective. No one said this was going to be easy, but you have to open up. You are the only one who can do it.”

Harper didn’t buy her attempt to bring him back into the conversation. He didn’t know if he could, as she said, open up. He pursed his lips and glanced out the window.

"Damned wind’s picking up again, Doc.” He buried his mouth in the L of his thumb and index finger touching the outer corner of his eye. He rose and turned his back to hide the familiar burning that blurred his vision. Apprehension had become his unwelcome companion, a reminder of the failings he refused to accept. Anger crept in. It bubbled and seared holes into his sense of reason.

“Should’ve been me.” He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and cleared his throat. “I was right in Mellow’s line of fire. The damned piece was inches from me.” The thrust of his fist made a hollow sound against his chest. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Yes, I do. Let’s start there.”

“What’s the point? You know what happened. We’ve been over it a million times. Don’t you get tired of listening to this crap?”

“It’s the only way.”

“We can talk all you want. Won’t change a damned thing. Won’t bring him back.” He dropped back into his chair and swept a hand across the stubble he hadn’t shaved in three days. “What’re you going to do? Tell me to think happy thoughts? Will that do it? Is that going to stop the
dreams?”

“Tell me about them.”

“Not today.” He wrestled between his grief and growing suspicions of Gillies. What really went down five days ago in front of the Roving Dog Saloon? He jabbed a white knuckled fist onto the arm of the chair and looked away. Every sordid detail came rushing back without prodding. “It was past eleven that night when Gillies got the tip that Mellow had violated parole.”

***

“Come on. Gotta go.” Detective Frank Gillies rushed to Harper’s desk and slammed an opened hand against it on his way to the elevator. “The big guy just answered our prayers.”

Harper caught his partner’s grin and his thumbs up gesture. The gray had gone beyond Gillies’ temples to the mass of short locks that covered his head. Harper’s glance dropped to the new spot that had landed on his partner’s tie six hours before from a greasy burger. One of many meals that had settled around Gillies’ middle.

“Let me guess, Stewart Martin’s leaving.” Harper turned to the next page in the file. He prayed every day that Detective Martin would transfer.

“Yeah right. Soon buddy, real soon, but not tonight. Word is Mellow blew a guy’s brains out.” Gillies struggled to slip his arms through the narrow sleeves of his overcoat.

“Wasn’t he just released a couple of days ago?” Harper was unmoved by the news. Mellow was nothing to their case against Jimmy Owens. They were after the supplier, not the low-end dealer. “When was this?”

“Few minutes ago. Over on Calvert near the Trenton overpass. Homicide’s on their way. Come on.” Gillies shook his head. “Will ya put that crap down already?”

Harper turned his head in time to see a bolt of lightning crackle and spark across the eastern sky followed by a quick clap of thunder. He adjusted his sight on the windowpane and the ribbons of rain flowing down the glass. “We don’t need him.”

“He knows where to find Owens.”

“Di Napoli is on it.”

“Di Napoli can’t find his ass with both hands. Move it, Harper!” Gillies rushed toward the fourth floor elevator and jabbed the down button.

Harper glanced at his watch. It was exactly eleven twenty-five p.m. He grabbed his coat off the back of a chair and motioned to Gillies he would meet him downstairs. His partner was a master at spewing out insults. Harper wondered how he had managed to measure up to the man’s expectations when Di Napoli, the eight-year veteran undercover assigned to work with them, couldn’t. He took the steps two at a time and reached the lobby as the elevator doors opened.

“He’s out, what, four days and breaks parole?” Harper pressed Gillies. “It’s a waste of time. The guys in Homicide aren’t going to let us anywhere near him. Hell, you know what they’re like. Bunch of assholes.”

“No shit. That’s why we’re going someplace else.”

“Where?”

“A dive over on Howard and Third. Just got a tip the fucker’s sitting in a booth there right now.”
Harper pulled his coat collar up and looked out the glass doors. The March rains were pounding down for the fourth consecutive day. The odds on staying dry weren’t adding up in his favor. He swept a glance over to Gillies’ and caught a similar sense of hesitation before the two of them made a run for the car.

Another bolt of lightning lit the sky followed closely by a clap of loud thunder.

***
“Harper?” Dr Brannon leaned her head to one side. “Where did you go?” The light of a small Tiffany lamp on the corner of her credenza illuminated the right side of her face.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts? It’s just you and me here,” she said, tapping her pencil on her notepad again.

He threw back his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. His left foot dangled over his knee while the restless right tapped on the floor.

“Right. You, me, and that thing.” He motioned toward the tape recorder on the coffee table.
She glanced at her watch. “Cut the crap, Harper. This is your third session and you have been defiant from the very beginning. Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not out to get you, understand? The bad guys are out there.” She pointed toward the door. “You want to fight them, fine. Go ahead. But walk out that door and I’ll make sure you don’t come back.” She stared at him in icy silence. “You don’t have a choice, Detective.”

“The hell I don’t. I risk my life every goddamn day. That’s my choice just as much as it was my duty to follow my partner to the dive that night. I didn’t do anything wrong. And there’s not a damned thing you can do to change it.” Heat rushed to his face.

“Who do you think you are, anyway? All you do is sit in your office and analyze the hell out of us. Where do you get off ordering me around?”

“You have a problem with authority?”

“Just you.”

“Interesting. Let’s get back to what you were thinking a minute ago.”

He hated her self-assurance. He frowned – wished he could run. He glanced at the door then turned to focus his sight on the wet bark of the maple tree in front of the window.

“It’s spitting snow.”

“Damn it, Harper. I’m sworn to secrecy. Nothing you say leaves this room.” She paused for a moment. “I am not going to risk your confidence unless you give me reason to think you are capable of hurting yourself or others.” Again, she waited for a response. “Did you hear me?”

“Guess it’s only rain.” Guilt continued to eat at him. If only he’d shot sooner. If only he had known. If only. The questions outweighed the number of plausible answers. He rose to his feet again and paced.

“No one was supposed to get killed. Not Mellow, sure as hell not Frank.” His fingers sliced through his hair and spiked the blond strands with the random pass of his hand. The knot in the pit of his gut tightened like a vise. The sessions, the job; he had to get through one to have the other. “I just wanted the truth. What the hell was Gillies thinking?”

“He knew the risks,” she said, without taking her eyes from him. “Let’s talk a minute about you. What have you been doing with yourself?”

“What difference does it make?” He knew the drill. Sure, the shrink time was mandated, but he didn’t want to talk about himself and the baggage he had swung over his shoulder.

She remained straight-faced and waiting. There was no way around it that he could see. The doc seemed as determined to make him talk, as he was to remain evasive.

“I finished a fifth of Scotch, and when I was good and drunk, I watched soap operas. Only damned thing I know more depressing than me these days.”

“You do that often?”

“I’m fine. All right? I can handle the booze.”

“How do you know I was asking about the booze?”

She caught him off guard with that remark. How damned stupid was he anyway?
“Do you think you have a problem with it?”

Harper sized her up with a seasoned glance. Her dark green sweater set off the red tones in her hair that curved slightly beneath her chin and framed the curvature of her face. She was easy on the eyes but too damned clinical for his taste. Nothing worse than a scrutinizing shrink to kill the moment. He assumed she was in her thirties, like him, but obviously twice as smart and a lot more obnoxious. Part of him wanted to tell her about Frank Gillies, how he died, and the thoughts that had haunted him since that night. He could still hear Gillies’ voice as they ran out to the car. He fingered the change in his pocket, leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane, and tuned her out.

***

Harper rushed into the car and slammed the door. He wiped his face and secured the straps of his bulletproof vest.

“What’s Mellow doing in a bar?” he asked Gillies. “Is it near the scene?”

“Nah. It’s down in Avondale.” Gillies switched on the siren and cut through traffic. “Hole in the wall place smack in the middle of slum lord row.”

“That’s clear across town. How long ago was the shooting?”

“What do I look like, some fucking information sign?” Gillies growled. “How the hell should I know? Idiots in homicide can figure that one out.”

“You sure your informant has it right this time?”

“What the hell’s with ya and the million fucking questions? All we need to do is talk to the guy about Owens before homicide gets to him.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” said Harper. “Most shooters would run like hell, not stop for a drink. Besides, what makes you think he’s going to talk now when he wouldn’t before?”

“No one accused him of having brains, ya know what I’m saying, college boy? You and me, we’d be out of jobs if little shits like him had any brains.”

“Who called in the shooting?”

“Shit, Harper. Here, let me get my crystal ball out.” Gillies sneered. “That’s Homicide’s problem; I could give a rat’s ass about it.” He shook his head. “All right, look, someone in dispatch called up about the shooting. Thought we’d want to know. That’s all. Just following a lead, all right?”
Harper knew about Gillies’ connections. Not who they were or how he managed them, but that they existed. They didn’t always pan out, but the grin that split Gillies’ face and the urgency in his voice implied this one was a sure thing.

“Seems stupid of Mellow to screw up right after making parole.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, if little shits like him had brains we wouldn’t be here.”

Harper had seen anger take over people’s minds. It shoved them over the edge without saying how far or how hard they would fall. Maybe Mellow hadn’t figured the distance yet.

Gillies turned off the headlights and nosed the unmarked patrol car into position across the street from the Roving Dog Saloon. The deserted street and the rain thumping against the car roof gave a false sense of tranquility.

Harper glanced across the way at the tavern door and the red neon lights shaped like a dog just above it. The dog’s legs and tail appeared to move back and forth making him seem to rove for a good mug of beer. The sign’s light cast an eerie red glow and shimmered off the wet objects beneath it. Harper pulled up his collar, cupped his hands around his mouth, and blew warmth into them.

“What now? You’re sure he’s in there?”

Gillies winced as he watched the windshield wipers slap the water from side to side. “Only one way to find out. It’s your turn, rookie.”

“The hell it is. I ran after the scum in the Capelli case, remember? Chased the guy five blocks through a foot of snow before you cut him off with the car. You can be so damned smug sometimes. You and that stupid grin of yours. This wasn’t even my call.”

“Ah, come on. Rookies aren’t allowed to say no. Besides, you’re younger. What are ya, thirty-one, thirty-two now?”

“Cut the jabs.”

“What? What’d I say?”

“Cut the rookie and college boy bit.”

“I’m just joshing with ya. Don’t go getting sensitive on me, all right?”

“It gets old.” It was almost midnight. Harper was tired and in no mood for Gillies’ mindless humor. “Haven’t been a rookie in years.”

“Is that so?” Gillies chuckled and threw him a playful punch. “All right. Listen. Ya don’t even have to talk to the asshole. Just see if he’s in there. Don’t want him running out the back or nothing and have to chase the little creep in this shit.”

“That’s it, huh?” Harper leaned his head against the window and watched the rain. “It’s not letting up.”

“Go on. It’ll take ya two minutes. We’ll wait him out. Ask him a few questions and go home.”

“Was that a typical surveillance?” asked Brannon. Expressionless eyes studied him from behind a set of silver framed reading glasses.

“No. We always worked together before. That night.” Harper shook his head. “Nothing made sense. One minute we’re just going to talk to the guy. Next thing I know I’ve got two fatalities to answer for and I don’t know what in the hell happened.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“We didn’t need Mellow to get Owens. Gillies knew it as well as I did. He acted as if we were the only ones on the case. There was a whole team of us including some undercover. But Gillies, he was so bent on going after Mellow that night. It was almost as if …”

“What?”

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer. What the hell was I supposed to do? He was the senior partner. Had to trust his judgment.”

“Did you?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to do, trust each other.” Harper lowered his glance. “That night, after it was over, I checked with dispatch.” He swallowed hard. “There was no shooting reported anywhere on or near the Trenton overpass.”

Watch the book trailer!

###

Tags: book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Marta Stephens

THE GHOST MIRROR by Jamieson Wolf

2007-07-03T11:31:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: The Ghost Mirror
Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult
Author: Jamieson Wolf
Website: http://www.jamiesonwolf.com/
Publisher: E Treasures Publishing
Date of Release: May '07 (Ebook) July '07(Paperback)
ISBN: 0-9740537-7-5

BUY THE GHOST MIRROR HERE!

SUMMARY:

“You have more Power than you know how to use...”

With these words, Mave Mallory’s life changes forever.

After being neglected by her parents for most of her life, Mave goes to live with her eccentric grandmother: Mona Mallory. An inquisitive child with red hair and black eyes, Mave knows that her Grandmother is a Witch. Mave has always known that she is special too; she can talk to Ghosts.

In her Grandmother’s attic, Mave finds an old Mirror. It’s large and had a gold rim around it. Mave tells her Grandmother about the mirror. Mona, frightened, warns Mave three times: “Please, promise me Mave, do not touch that mirror.” But one night, Mave must break her promise.

It is the whispering that wakes her. Mave wakes to find a blue mist has enveloped the house. The mist is coming from the mirror. Mave watches in terror as one of the Ghosts she has befriended, a girl no older than her, is pulled into the mirror by white, bony hands. Mave steps through the mirror to save her, only to find herself in a place she knows, but doesn’t.

She finds herself in a world where magic is known. Where Magic is shared on the streets. Children practice spells on the street corners and you can buy spells at a corner store. There are cobble stone streets of an older time, though the villagers live in fear. During the day they hide from The Shadows. And during the night it there is strange music, it’s sound humming through the air around her.

People in the town fear her, for she is a child with the black eyes of a Witch

Unknown to Mave, something hunts her. Older than time, Mr. Lavender knows that Mave has arrived. She is the brightest soul that he has felt in one thousand years and the magic pulsing underneath her skin calls to him. He knows that the Last Witch has come, and that he must taste it.

Now Mave must fight for her life on an unknown terrain using Magic she doesn’t understand. Coming to her aid are a few trinkets. One of them a gold locket with a hole through the middle. It shows her what is underneath the magic. What a thing really is.

What she sees through the locket frightens her. Befriended by Euwan Opal, one of the town’s children, she sees that he is not living at all, just a mass of bones, a walking skeleton. Mave fears that Euwan has a dark secret that he is not sharing, despite his coming to her aid. She wonders what that dark secret is.

Mr. Lavender is a hoarder and eater of souls. Nestled inside the Ghost Mirror, a young girl named Cleo and her new companion Amanda watch as a sinister plot unfolds. A Crow is made to find Mave. Cleo and Amanda know that Mave is their only hope to free them from the Ghost Mirror. They hope that the Crow never finds her. But in the end, it is a friend that betrays her.

When Mave is finally put face to face with Mr. Lavender, Mave must lean to use her magic to fight something darker than fear itself. She must learn to reach into her soul, if she has any hope of freeing the souls trapped in the Silver Glass.

And herself.

Excerpt

In the Beginning…

Mr. Lavender looked down at the body that rested at his feet with some trepidation.

The body was that of a young boy, no more than twelve years old. There was a small wound at the back of his head that, even now, oozed blood onto the white tiled floor underneath him. They boy was clothed in shorts and a t-shirt that had been ripped to shreds.

Mr. Lavender made a tut-tut sound and moved around, so he could see the body from another angle. It always helped to get a different perspective on things. He spared a momentary glance at his companion who was standing by the doorway.

The room around them was white, almost blinding. Its cleanliness was in sharp contrast to the rest of the house. All the other rooms were filled with cobwebs and shadow, inches of dust on table tops. Only the bathroom was sparkly white.

Mr. Lavender shuddered slightly at the cleanliness of the bathroom. He preferred the grimier rooms; the ones filled with stacks of old books and papers that littered the floor. He could spend days poring over the papers; stacks of obituaries, old newspapers that detailed events past. Old things were filled with mystery. With magic.

“You found him like this?” Mr. Lavender asked his companion.

The companion, a thin man with dark, greasy hair and a pale face, nodded. “He was here this morning.” The man’s voice was gruff compared to Mr. Lavender’s soft toned voice. “I didn’t touch anything.” The companion was so pale that it looked as if he were going to fade into the whiteness of the walls.

“As well you shouldn’t.” Mr. Lavender said. He moved around the boy again so that he could see the boys’ eyes. They were still open. “Tut, tut.” He whispered. “What are we going to do with you, my little popinjay?” He regarded the boy almost sadly, though his mouth did curve into a small smile. “Well, needs must.” He said simply.

He crouched down closer to the boy. Carefully, he laid the boys’ body on its back, so that his eyes stared skyward. Mr. Lavender opened the boys’ mouth slightly, as if the boy were forming a sound of surprise.

Gently he prodded the boys’ chest with the tips of his fingers. “I am made from more than blood,” Mr. Lavender whispered. “I am filled with spirit strong.”

In response to his words, the air around them became thick, as if time stood still. He watched as whiteness, a soft mist, started to crawl out of the boys’ mouth.

“I am made from more than flesh,” Mr. Lavender continued. “I am filled with bloods pure song.”

The rest of the incantation made the air thicker still. The companion watched as the mist leaving the boys quickened and started to take shape. He watched as Mr. Lavender bend close to the boy and breathed in through his mouth. The mist, slowly at first as if resisting, started to flow into Mr. Lavender’s open mouth.

When the mist was no more, and Mr. Lavender had closed his mouth, the air around them became whole once more.

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Tags: book promotion, book publicity, author interviews, blogging authors, guest blog, guest bloggers, book blog, virtual book tour, online book promotion, Jamieson Wolf

CAST A PALE SHADOW by Barbara Scott

2007-06-15T14:48:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: Cast A Pale Shadow
Genre: Psychological suspense
Author: Barbara Scott
Website: www.barbarascottink.com
Publisher: Triskelion Publishing
Date of Release: June, 2007
ISBN: 978-1-60186-172-9

BUY CAST A PALE SHADOW HERE!

SUMMARY:

Rescued as she flees a relationship suddenly turned abusive by the mysterious Nicholas Brewer, Trissa is charmed by his kindness. But Nicholas has a dark past to hide and a fierce determination to retain full grasp of his present. Always the shadow of his other self, Cole threatens to overtake him. It is Cole who guards his most dreaded memories and Cole who has stolen great swatches of his time so that Nicholas ceases to exist. Throughout his adult life Nicholas has sought the magic to ward off those blank times . When he thinks he has found that magic in Trissa, what desperate measures will he take to make it last?

Together, in a boarding house filled with an eclectic group of people, Trissa and Nicholas patch together a substitute family that they hope will buffer them from a world that has not been kind to either of them. Their progress toward this goal is threatened by Trissa’s father, who is determined to retrieve her from her new life. The confrontation between Bob Kirk and Nicholas ends in murder and the reemergence of Cole. Now Trissa must summon the strength to discover which of her two loves is man and which is shadow.

EXCERPT:
Prologue
Nicholas
Michigan

"Once upon a time," Nicholas whispered, so close he could feel the cold alabaster of her ear brush his lips, "There was a Sleeping Princess who waited only the kiss of her true love to awaken her from her long, lonely sleep." He stretched himself out beside her, the chill of her body drawing away his warmth even through their clothes. He would see the soft, dark, warmth of her eyes again. She would open them to him. He would find the magic in her, in both of them this time.

With a light sweep of his fingertips— he could not bear to touch the pale stone of her forehead for fear the ice would reach in to pierce his soul— he lifted the tumbled wisps of her hair away from her eyes. He waited the very moment she flickered them open, when she would see that it was he Nicholas who performed the miracle and love him all the more for it. She had failed to give him the miracle he asked, but he would not fail her. They would have another chance.

Her perfect stillness nearly daunted him even while he envied her for it. Wasn't that utter peace what he had wanted? That she had attained it so effortlessly while he was left alone and wanting filled him with resentment and fear. Perhaps it would never be possible for him and, in slipping away as she had, she had demonstrated her despair of him, her lack of trust.

"I can't live without you," she said so softly in her tear-filled whisper.

"I wouldn't ask that of you," he promised. But he realized now that she had not understood what he truly was asking of her. He couldn’t let himself believe her failure was deliberate. A misunderstanding. Yes, a tragic misunderstanding. That was all.

Her lips were slightly parted and nearly as pale as her ashen cheeks. Nicholas brushed his own tears until his fingertips were wet with them, then traced her mouth with their moistness. He could taste the saltiness of them as he kissed her, thinking of magic and miracles and wishes and love. But nothing happened. Her stillness was impenetrable. Her eyes refused to open. She was gone, and he could not reach her.

Tenderly, he straightened her crisp, white collar and smoothed the bright red wool of her favorite skirt, then folded the quilt around her, tucking it up and around her shiny black shoes, the ones she loved with the heels she could barely walk in. He tied the first rope at her knees and the second at her hips. Her cold, little fingers were stiffening slightly as he folded her hands, one over the other. across her chest.

Too late, he remembered the ring he had bought her and never gave her, never had time to. A vision of her bright, loving eyes brimming with tears as they might have been when she saw it for the first time staggered him back to sag in the cracked, leather armchair where she had sat on his lap so many times.

He would never see her again. He would never again hear her sweet laughter when he whispered in her ear. He would never again feel the, tender heat of her surrounding him, taking him with her as she plummeted over the brink of her waterfall of stars, as she called it.

Forcing himself to rise, Nicholas searched the drawers of the painted chest they both shared until he found the ring, still in its blue velvet box, still in its white paper bag. It had two tiny rubies, her birthstone and his.

"We are almost cosmic twins, did you know that? Only three days and two years apart," she murmured with delight when he told her his birthdate. Lifting the ring from its satin nest, he breathed on it and polished it against his jeans before placing it on her third finger, left hand.

"Until death do us part, Cynthia. But it wasn’t supposed to part us. Why couldn't you take me with you?" He rested his forehead against her hands until he felt their ice numb his heart.

Finally, there was nothing to do but fold the corner of the quilt over her face and tie another rope at her shoulders. Just enough twilight remained for him to complete his task without a lantern. Nicholas gathered his precious bundle in his arms and left the silent, empty cabin, winding his way through the trees until he reached the grave he had prepared.

Gently, he lay Cynthia at the edge, then jumped in, positioning himself to shoulder her and nestle her into the soft, cool earth at the bottom. If he could just think of a way, he would lay down beside her and pull the dirt like a blanket around them both.

But there was no way, so he hoisted himself up out of the grave and bid her goodbye. He began to fill the hole.

Cynthia. Michigan. Eventually he hoped that would be all he would remember. And in time that would fade and jumble, so that when the night terrors struck, he wouldn't recall which face belonged to which name or whether last year had been the year for Laura in Milwaukee or was it the year before? Could it really have been as long as five years ago when Valerie— ?

He hated that it happened that way. It seemed disloyal to Cynthia and Laura and— no, it was best not to think of Valerie at all.

Nicholas had loved each of them, loved them to the depths of his soul, but he had to forget them. Or else how would he have the strength to go on to the next?

And maybe the next would be the one.

It was safer, he believed, to count to only two: the last one and the next one. He could not allow himself to think of the others, or to suppose there would be any beyond the next one. He was not some monster who wanted this to go on forever. Cynthia didn't think him a monster. None of them did.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, online book promotion, book promotion, free book publicity, virtual book tour, publicity, Cast a Pale Shadow, Barbara Scott

THE ROUX IN THE GUMBO by Kim Robinson

2007-06-12T12:27:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: The Roux in the Gumbo
Author: Kim Robinson
Website: www.kim-robinson.com
Publisher: J'Adore Publishing
Date of Release: December 2006
ISBN-10: 0979126800
ISBN-13: 978-0979126802

BUY THE ROUX IN THE GUMBO HERE!

EXCERPT:

Gizelle welcomed the feel of the cool sheets against her skin. She crawled exhausted into her bed, naked as always during the humid summer. As Gizelle slept, her subconscious took her back to a night twenty years ago in 1850. She was twelve years old and alone in the middle of the night. Scared, tired, hungry, and sick, she sat crying and shivering under a huge magnolia tree in driving rain, deep in the bayou near Lake Charles, Louisiana.

Gizelle decided to sit and wait. Surely, one of the water moccasins or some deadly spider would put her out of her misery. No matter what, she was not going back to the plantation.

Before Gizelle was old enough to be weaned, she had been wrenched from her mother’s breast and sold to the Sunrise Plantation. They should have called it the Graveyard because so many slaves were buried there. They worked clearing the bayous so the boats could navigate through the waters to bring in materials to build plantation homes and slave quarters. They also brought in seed and supplies to cultivate the fields of cotton, rice, and sugar cane; anything that was agriculturally profitable.

The overseers did not allow slaves who labored in the fetid water to get out as they watched others pulled under by the alligators. If the poisonous snakes and spiders did not kill them, the elements would. They worked regardless of rain or snow. Those who fell ill were left on the bank to die. The owners could always buy more slaves.

During the epidemics, cholera and yellow fever laid claim to many. Hundreds expired from colds, croup or the many diseases that thrived in the swampy water. The soles of their feet split open from the fungus brought on by standing in dirty water for too long. They bound their feet with bandages but without proper treatment, the cuts developed gangrene. The limbs were amputated. Cripples sat in pirogues to transfer the debris from the water to the bank. A slave was lucky to make it through a year working at Sunrise.

Gizelle’s dark skin dictated that by the age of four she was sent to the fields to pick cotton. When she was nine years old, the overseer gave her a gift. He raped her. He had been doing so for three years now. He had very strange and unnatural desires, and she could not take it anymore. She would prefer death to the tortured existence she was living.

Each time lightning brightened the sky, Gizelle prayed for God to end her life. Finally, the storm passed. She gathered Spanish moss from the trees and made a pallet. She closed her eyes, hoping they would never again open.

“Cher, Cher, Wake up chile! What are you doing here? Get up Cher you are soaking wet. Come with me. Open your eyes,” the voice said.

Gizelle heard the words but did not want to open her eyes. She did not want to be alive. Maybe God was a woman, or maybe he was busy and had sent an angel for her. She peeked out with one eye. Nope it was not God; God did not have long white hair that hung down to his waist. She opened the other eye and looked into eyes that looked like a cat, colored a greenish-gray. Her face was soft with what seemed to be concern. No one had ever looked at Gizelle with such kindness.

“Can you stand, Cher? Are you hurt?” The woman touched Gizelle’s forehead and found it burning with fever. “You poor chile, you come with Tallulah; I will make you better,” she said.

Gizelle rose shakily to her feet and leaned against the strange woman. Tallulah was the tallest woman she had ever seen. When Gizelle got dizzy and could not walk, Tallulah carried her.

Tallulah took her to a cabin built three feet above the ground alongside a creek, allowing the water to flow under rather than through the house when the water was high. It was a cozy habitat.

Three large rooms were more than adequate for Tallulah. One, a large inviting kitchen kept warm by the stove where she prepared her food. Another was the bedroom, which boasted a four-poster bed with night tables and an armoire that covered an entire wall. The custom furniture would have done any mansion proud. The last room had a massive desk on one wall.

The other three walls were bookshelves, overflowing with books and mementos of her life. The collection of Indian and French artifacts spoke volumes about Tallulah’s heritage.

Gizelle dreamt that someone removed her wet clothes and placed her in a large metal basin filled with lavender scented water that had been warmed in a teakettle that sat on the top of a big pot-bellied stove. Her hair was gently washed and braided. She was spooned hot soup; the tastiest she had ever eaten, nothing like the slop at Sunrise. The woman held a cup for her so she could sip delicious honey-sweetened herb tea. It soothed and warmed her from the inside out.

When she was out of the tub, Gizelle’s body was rubbed down with oils that made her skin feel smooth and soft like a baby. The towel was soft, like freshly ginned and cleaned cotton. She wondered if she was dreaming, or maybe this was heaven. Wherever she was, this was where she wanted to be.

Gizelle awoke in the comfort of a soft feather mattress. This must be how the people in the big house slept, she thought. She was afraid that if she moved, her surroundings would disappear and she would find herself back on the floor of her cabin. Tallulah warmed the sheets by filling a bottle with hot water and rolling it between them. The quilt smelled as if it were filled with fragrant flowers. She drifted back to sleep.

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ANAZ-VOORHI by Vijaya Schartz

2007-06-08T22:27:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: Anaz-voohri
Series: Operation Pleiades

Genre: Sci-fi romance

Author: Vijaya Schartz

Website: http://www.vijayaschartz.com/

Publisher's Name: Triskelion Publishing

Date of Release: January 2007

ISBN: 9781601860330

BUY ANAZ-VOOHRI BY VIJAYA SCHARZ HERE!

SUMMARY:

After 800 years, the Anaz-voohri have returned from the stars to steal our children, and they have a nefarious plan! Since he witnessed the abduction of his baby sister by an alien creature, Zack will stop at nothing to rescue her, even if it means joining the Special Forces. But Tia Vargas, the reckless amazon training the secret unit for a highly classified mission, has no use for this rebellious recruit, at least not on the battlefield, until Zack’s farfetched stories prove to be true, and tragedy strikes... To save those he loves, Zack will sacrifice everything beyond human endurance. But the fate of humanity is at stake, and Tia harbors a deadly secret...

EXCERPT:

Chapter One - Los Angeles - July 2003

Zack woke up with a start, unable to see anything. Anything at all. Had the power gone out? A subtle vibration permeated the house. Earthquake? No. Earthquakes didn’t make the walls sing.
Something was wrong. With no glow from the digital clock or from his computer screen, Zack tossed his blanket aside and felt his way to the window. He pulled up the black roman shade and lifted the glass pane. The sweet fragrance of roses from the front yard filled the room. As he craned his neck outside, the second story view revealed a full moon but no street lights in the whole residential area of Granada Hills. Had all of Los Angeles blacked out?

Outside, the strong vibration shook the foliage of the eucalyptus trees. As far as Zack could see, the streets and houses looked dark and quiet. Too dark, too quiet, with no breeze, no birds, not even the chirp of a cricket.

Moonlight filtering into the room illuminated the life-size poster of Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider. As the vibration intensified, something familiar tugged at Zack’s mind. Ashley? His baby sister screeched for help in his head! She was terrified.

Rushing out of the bedroom, Zack stumbled over his sneakers and stepped into the ink black hallway. The vibration shook the hardwood under his bare feet. The smell of burnt rubber or heated machinery assaulted his nostrils. How weird!

Feeling his way along the wall, Zack turned the corner and saw an outline of white radiance around Ashley’s door. He’d left it ajar last night.

Wearing only his boxers and tee-shirt, Zack shivered when a malevolent breeze coursed across his skin, as if to keep him away. Was he dreaming? He bit his lip. It hurt, and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Wide awake! His heart beat so hard, it threatened to explode.

Outside Ashley’s door, their Persian cat arched his back and hissed, spooked. His bristled tail rose straight up in the air, sparking with static electricity.

"What’s going on in there, Dude?" Zack whispered, his heart faltering. He swallowed with a dry throat, remembering the horror movies he used to enjoy watching. But this was no movie, and he couldn’t stand the thought of his baby sister in any danger.

Zack moved sluggishly, like through water with weights on his ankles. Had the air become dense? Had he landed in the middle of a strange videogame? Finally he pushed the door open. Blinded by bright light, Zack stood paralyzed. He tried to step inside, to no avail. His legs refused to move.

Unable to scream his frustration, he remained frozen in the doorway, immobilized by a strange force that controlled his body. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the unobstructed view of his sister’s room chilled his spine.

Bent over the bed, a tall creature of humanoid proportions hovered above the floor, wearing a long, shimmering cape that accentuated its square shoulders. Seven-year-old Ashley, her blue eyes wide with terror, blonde curls framing her tan face, clutched her favorite Barbie Doll, her mouth open in a silent wail.

Get away from my sister, you freak! No word came out of Zack’s mouth.

The creature turned to face Zack. Under the hood, the bald skull glowed from within, blue, pink and green, like a see-through phone. The face had large oval eyes, milky skin, elongated cheeks, and a straight thin mouth etched with grim determination.

Hang on, Ashley, I’m coming. When Zack attempted to rush the creature, his feet stuck to the floor. He tried to yell but his vocal cords remained mute. He wanted to break the freak’s skull, bloody the monster’s small nose, make it feel pain. What did this thing want with his baby sister?

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, online book promotion, book promotion, free book publicity, virtual book tour, Anaz-voorhi, Vijaya Schartz, sci-fi romance

LET US PLAY - A ROCK 'N ROLL LOVE STORY by Karen Magill

2007-06-07T14:30:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: Let Us Play, A Rock 'n Roll Love Story
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Author: Karen Magill
Author Website: www.karenmagill.com
Publisher: Lulu Press Inc
Date of Release: October 2006
ISBN: 10:1847285198, 13:978-1847285195

BUY LET US PLAY BY KAREN MAGILL HERE!

SUMMARY:
In an uncertain time in the future, rock and roll music has been banned. Kaya More uses second sight to lead a group of rebels to bring it back. Their quest leads them from the streets of New York City to the peaks of the Canadian Rockies to the beaches of California. The pursuit heats up as combatants switch sides and the world joins forces as the rebels find adventure, music and love.

EXCERPT:

PROLOGUE

People ran from the concert hall, screaming in reaction to the horror they had just witnessed. Their clothes bloodied, assorted limbs broken and their minds numb by the massacre they had just seen, many fought their way to the ambulances that were just pulling up.

Appearing much calmer than the fleeing concert attendees, several identically black clad individuals emerged holding various assortments of weapons. Those waiting for services of the ambulance attendants cowered at the sight of these imposing figures and anyone who would manage to retain their sanity knew that they would never forget this horrific night.

In addition to their confusion, the earth began to shake violently. Buildings shook on their foundations; people struggled to maintain their balance as they attempted to assist those in need. Suddenly, a crevice in the ground began to form around the auditorium. Rapidly, it widened and the concert hall began a slow descent. Before the horrified eyes of the onlookers, the building slowly disappeared from sight and the ground sealed itself around the buried structure.

The earth stilled but was replaced by a forceful wind that seemed to approach tornado proportions. The gusts were so strong that people were thrown from where they stood and deposited a few feet away; trees were uprooted and vehicles were overturned. Sand from the nearby beach was lifted by the winds and created a sandstorm that was blinding.

As quickly as this chaos had started, it stopped with what many later claimed sounded like a great sigh. Two events of importance happened that night: Rock and roll music ended and a legend was born.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, online book promotion, book promotion, free book publicity, virtual book tour, Let Us Play, A Rock 'n Roll Love Story, Karen Magill, paranormal fiction, rock 'n roll

UNDERDEAD by Liz Jasper

2007-06-05T04:00:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: UNDERDEAD
Genre: Mystery
Author: Liz Jasper
Website: www.lizjasper.com
Publisher: Cerridwenpress
Date of Release: 5/31/07
ISBN: 09781419909344

PURCHASE UNDERDEAD HERE!

SUMMARY:
Science teacher Jo Gartner thinks teaching geology to hormonal pre-teens is deadly…until she is bitten by an inept vampire and becomes Underdead—all the problems of being a vampire, none of the perks. When she finds a body on her classroom floor with teeth marks in his neck, she must figure out whodunnit before her Underdead secret gets out. But she’s running out of time. The detective in charge of the case is dogging her every move, her vampire traits are evolving in new and embarrassing ways, and someone wants Jo dead…the traditional way!

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

I would have shot him then and there if I thought it would do any good, but Roger was such a troll the bullet would have bounced off his thick, ugly hide. Maybe poison…

Becky interrupted my pleasant daydream with a whack on my arm. “Okay, don’t turn around and look,” she said, “but a guy is staring at you. And he is hot!”

“How nice for him.”

All I needed to cap off this fabulous evening was Becky’s matchmaking. I knew her taste. He probably wore chains and had a Mohawk. Becky herself was dressed in what was best described as slightly toned-down punk, not exactly your typical high school chemistry teacher garb. It went with her spiky hair, which she wore bleached and dyed silver, though a red fringe had been added in honor of the holidays. I should mention that she is Korean, so the dye job isn’t exactly subtle. The headmaster turns a blind eye to this display of “personal expression” because she’s a first-rate teacher and, at twenty-seven, cheap.

Around us, hip twenty-somethings in denim and black sipped cappuccinos and talked knowledgeably about the band that was setting up in the bar area. But we weren’t sitting with them. We were at a long rectangular table in the back of the restaurant, where a small balding man in a hideous sweater was lecturing passionately about the insidious evil that was grade inflation. If I’d ever imagined a fate worse than death, this was it—the science department Christmas party.

Tags: Plug Your Book!, online book promotion, book promotion, free book publicity, virtual book tour, Underdead, Liz Jasper, mystery fiction, vampires

EXCITED LIGHT by Lynn Voedisch

2007-06-04T01:26:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: Excited Light
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy, New Age
Author: Lynn Voedisch
Website: http://www.lynnvoedisch.com/
Publisher: ASJA Press
Date of Release: December 13, 2006
ISBN: 0545421733

PURCHASE EXCITED LIGHT HERE!

SUMMARY:
Ten-year-old Alex Griffin has plenty of secrets. At night, from his third-floor bedroom in a drafty Victorian mansion, Alex surveys the world and dreams about how life would be if he weren’t taking care of his single, alcoholic mom, Allegra Bellini. He confides his secrets to his beat-up toy duck, Dudley.Dudley answers him.Excited Light is a tale of magic and second chances. Young Alex, guided by Dudley and the mysterious entities who visit him, endures his mother’s drinking, waiting for a time when she can hear her own spiritual guides.Impulsive Allegra rushes into a reckless romance with Raf Neri, the managing editor of the local newspaper. Neri sweeps her away on a wild ride of nightclubbing, sex, and promises.Then, Neri goes a step too far, taking Allegra to the brink of death. It’s up to Alex to save his mother. Guided by Dudley and his angels, he attempts to work a miracle to set his mother free from her addiction.

EXCERPT:

Alex and Jack walked along the gravel path on the way to the baseball diamond, kicking stones and watching as the dust flew fine and wild about them. It had been a week with almost no rain, and a fine coat of dust had settled on everything: car roofs, lawn furniture, bird houses, even the individual leaves on trees.

As the two approached the baseball diamond -- a bleak affair of yellowish soil, crumbling bleachers and a chain-link backstop with a yawning hole -- a massive cloud of fine silt rose in the air about them. First sailing high, then swirling in a circle, the dust enveloped the boy and young man in their own private, gentle tornado.

Alex stood in the sandstorm, his eyes closed to tiny slits, and watched the light play on the tiny, almost microscopic bits of dust. Light reflected all around him, twinkling and twirling, shimmering with a phosphorescence. The flashes reminded him of sci-fi movies where light streaks passed starship windows, becoming white-hot ribbons containing all the available energy of entire worlds. Alex imagined being in a nebula in the Andromeda Galaxy. It felt as if he were drifting above gravity.

The boy rubbed his eyes, feeling the soot on his lids. By the time he blinked, the tiny storm had ended. The vortex collapsed, leaving Alex and Jack feeling dirty and hot, their eyes stinging from the assault of tiny particles.

Alex and Jack looked at each other and laughed. Alex dropped his head and gazed at the patterns his footprints made in the dust. He figured there was no sense in explaining what he just had seen.

"Why do things like that only happen to me?" Alex asked, mostly to himself.

"They happen to me, too," said Jack, looking straight into Alex's eyes. "You think you're the only one who experiences those little flashes of wonder, but you aren't alone, kiddo. Not by a long shot."

Alex looked down at the ground, wishing he hadn't sounded stupid. He knew his mom wouldn't have seen the lights and the transfixing colors. She'd have seen blowing dirt, pure and simple. No matter what Alex saw, no matter how he described it to his mom, she never, ever shared his experience.

So it was no wonder -- since Mom was Alex's only point of reference -- that he assumed he was strange. A little off. "Weird kid," as one of Mom's old boyfriends used to say. Alex looked up and saw Jack struggling, his mouth pursed as he composed his words.

"It's all a matter of perception, Alex," Jack said, stopping to sit on one of the dilapidated bleacher seats. "Perception. No one's right, and no one's wrong. You see what you want to see."

"Mom would see dirt."

"And we saw dirt, too. Only we also saw the light."

Alex looked into Jack's flashing gray eyes, straightened his back and began to swallow with care.

"The light, in between the dirt, the light is what they're missing," Alex said, brightening.

"The light, the empty spaces, the holes, the air," Jack said, looking off into the hazy distance. "That's what they always miss."

###

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, online book promotion, book promotion, free book publicity, virtual book tour, Excited Light, Lynn Voedisch, contemporary fantasy, new+age, fiction

TRUST IN THE WIND by Vicki M. Taylor

2007-06-01T01:32:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: Trust in the Wind
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Women's Fiction
Author: Vicki M. Taylor
Website: www.vickimtaylor.com
Publisher: Mundania Press, LLC
Date of Release: June 30, 2006
ISBN: 10: 1594262047
13: 978-1594262043

PURCHASE TRUST IN THE WIND HERE!

SUMMARY:
When pregnant teen, Joanne, chooses single motherhood, she loses everything, including her family. Four years later, she's fiercely independent, trusts no one and is barely keeping her head above water. Roy is a Hillsborough County Sheriff, and a widower who lost his wife and child during a burglary gone terribly wrong. Six years later, he still refuses to love for fear of losing it again. Together, these two just might get a second chance to learn about trust and love. When you can't count on people, TRUST IN THE WIND.

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Crash!

Joanne jumped as a trashcan slammed into the laundry room door. "God, I wish they'd go and get drunk someplace else."

Sheila pulled another t-shirt out of the dryer, folded it, and placed it on top of an already growing pile of clean laundry. With comic grace she pirouetted and said, "It's another lovely Saturday night here at the prestigious Arbor Meadows. Look at the A-list people milling about." With a flip of her hand she picked up the bottle of softener, held it like a microphone and gestured toward the large plate glass window next to the laundry room door.

"It's a star-studded bonanza tonight, folks!"

Sadie Matthews, their long-time neighbor, sometimes babysitter, and surrogate mother, laughed at Sheila's performance.

Clapping, she looked through the window at the scene Sheila referred to only to stop as fast as she started. There was really nothing to laugh about. She could see the usual drunken, brawling group of tenants letting off steam after a hard week's labor. She picked up her laundry basket piled high with fluffy towels.

Joanne pushed up a sigh from deep inside. She hated this place. "Damn, I wish I could afford some place better for Joey to grow up."

"Don't we all, honey." Sadie smiled as she put a hand on Joanne's shoulder and squeezed. "Don't we all." Adjusting her basket against her round and generous hip, she turned to the younger women, waggled a finger, and said, "Don't ya'll stay here too long, ya here? That group out there is fixing on getting mean real soon, and I don't want ya'll anywheres near here, ya got that?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sheila and Joanne chorused together then looked at each other and giggled like ten year olds.

"And, lock that door behind me when I leave. Don't need nothing happening to ya'll with those babies at home." Sadie clicked her tongue and stood on the outside of the laundry room door until Joanne firmly locked it. With a quick wave, she again adjusted the basket against her hip and headed for her little apartment, all the while, casting nervous, but determined, sideways glances to the rowdy group at the end of the parking lot.

Joanne turned from the door as the dryer buzzer called to her. Another load of clothes done. As soon as she finished folding this load, they could head back to their apartment and hide behind their doors pretending the noisy group didn't exist.

"Wanna come over and let the kids watch a video tonight?" Sheila asked.

Joanne pulled soft, warm clothes from the dryer and dropped them onto the tabletop. "Maybe, I dunno. I'll let you know how I feel after I put all these clothes away." Stray hairs escaped the confinement of her ponytail. She pushed the errant wisps back behind her ears.

While folding the last of the towels, she looked around the small laundry room. Paint peeled from the walls, scattered dryer sheets and a rainbow of lint littered the cracked linoleum floor. The too-small portable air conditioner mounted in the wall above the wobbly table blasted semi-warm air into her flushed face. The high humidity level didn't help. She pulled at the hem of her small t-shirt, realizing that the bright green t-shirt shouted "razz me" to the animals on the other side of the glass. At first thinking the t-shirt was cute and sufficient legal coverage for such a hot night, now brought to mind what kind of trouble it could cause her.

Trouble had a way of finding her. Keeping two steps ahead of trouble meant a lot of work for her already stressful life. Joanne wanted to pretend that this horrible place wasn't so bad and if she could just save a little more money she and Joey could move into a better part of town. Then this part of her life could go away and they'd put it behind them like a bad dream.

It would take a lot of pretending to imagine that the pitiful little apartment complex on the edge of the industrial part of town, next to the noisy railroad and the dirty Hillsborough River didn't exist.

BAM!

Joanne jumped.

The pounding on the window made her drop the towel she had just folded to the floor. Bending to pick it up, she glanced toward the window.

Sheila whispered to her, "Don't make eye contact. Just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away."

"They're disgusting. How can they think those gestures are attractive?" Joanne whispered back.
Sheila smothered a small laugh and shrugged her shoulders. "That's their universal mating signal. Good thing we're not from their species otherwise we wouldn't be able to help ourselves."

Now it was Joanne's turn to stifle an uneasy laugh. She tried to ignore the pounding on the glass and the taunts of the drunken onlookers from behind their only protection. "How many times have we asked for a payphone in here?" Joanne swung her arm open for emphasis. "Do you see one?"

"Come on hon, let's get our stuff and get out of here." Sheila tossed a pile of unmated socks into her basket.

The girls gathered the rest of their unfolded laundry into baskets then looked around to make sure they didn't leave anything behind.

"Walk fast and keep your head down, Jo." Sheila said with an air of confidence Joanne knew she really didn't feel deep inside. Joanne gave her credit for trying.

Even so, Joanne nodded, then lifted a basket and placed it on top of another. Exhaling, she lifted both baskets and headed for the door. Sheila did the same, and then reached out an unsteady hand to unlock the door.

"Here we go, into the lion's den."

The taunts and pounding increased in volume as the girls stepped out of the laundry room.

"Yo, mama, gimme some softness!"

"Hey baby, looking good!"

"I'd play house with you any day."

Sheila turned her head and caught Joanne's attention. "Remember, don't make eye contact, Jo."

"I don't plan on it." Joanne pulled her laundry baskets closer to her body. Biting her lower lip, she forced a blank look on her face and stared straight ahead.

"Do me? Yeah baby, let me do you!"

"Ooooo, yeah, shake it, shake it, gimme some fries with that creamy shake!"

"How original." Jo whispered.

"Shhh. . . don't start anything."

The crowd moved in unison toward the women. Joanne checked behind her. The loud taunting voices surrounded them. The rough looking pack closed in, blocking any escape.

"Stay close." Sheila said.

"You too."

The jeering crowd tossed expletives and vulgar comments.

Joanne searched the faces leering back at her. Men and women alike laughed at her discomfort. She shuffled her feet backward and stumbled on loose gravel.

Wobbling sideways, Joanne braced herself to fall. Determined not to make a spectacle of herself, she strained to keep her balance. Wincing, she tightened her grip on the plastic laundry basket even though the handle bit into the sensitive skin of her palm.

For the first time, fear threatened to overwhelm her senses. Joanne pushed aside the rising panic and concentrated on not provoking anyone in the crowd into attacking them.

"Hey, little mama, let me carry that basket for you." A large, unshaven man reached out to pull the basket from Sheila's hands.

"No, thank you."

The large, greasy hands pulled at Sheila's basket.

"I don't think so." Sheila firmly held the basket in both hands. "I don't need any help."

"Hey, me too, let me help!"

Joanne grimaced and turned away from the tall, shirtless man with strange tattoos covering his back. His dirty hands grabbed at her laundry basket.

"No, I can handle it myself."

"Oh, come on, pretty little girl, let me carry it for you. Then you can show me some appreciation."

Joanne pulled her laundry basket hard. She tugged against the stronger man's hold. "No! Give me my basket!"

Clothes flew threw the air and scattered about the ground.

Anger replaced her fear. "Shit, you son-of-a-bitch! Look what you did!" Joanne couldn't hold in her disgust any longer and let loose with a string of curse words that would have made her mother faint dead away.

Raucous laughter burst from the crowd watching the exchange.

Kneeling on the rough asphalt, Joanne pressed her lips closed so she wouldn't make any more outbursts that she might regret.

Without bothering to fold the scattered clothes, she shoved them into the basket as quick as she could. From nowhere, she was lifted to her feet and crushed to a foul smelling body.

"Let me go!"

"Oh, come on baby, you and me just need to get to know each other."

Joanne swallowed hard past a large lump. Bile rose in her throat. She wanted to vomit from the combined stench of sour sweat, cheap whiskey mixed with stale beer, and the foul breath of the man holding her.

"Hey, Jerk-off, let her go!"

"Sheila, get back. Go get help!"

"Oh, no you don't. You're gonna stay here." With that, Sheila's arms were pulled behind her back.

"Get off me!" Sheila kicked out. Her little plastic flip flops made no impact against her captor's leather boots and heavy jeans.

Joanne's mind raced. They wouldn't really try anything out here in the open, would they? Not with everyone watching? She had to convince these jerks to turn Sheila loose.

"Hey, let her-" sirens drowned the rest of her words. Wide-eyed, she watched several police cars with flashing blue and red lights pull into the complex from various directions, converging on the group. Bright lights lit up the dark. She heaved a sigh of relief as the smelly thug that held her close pushed her away.

Rubbing her arms and trying to wipe away the grime, she watched several uniformed officers round up the crowd. Two officers made their way to Sheila and Joanne just as Sadie hurried toward them. "Are you girls okay?" Sadie called out. "I knew there was gonna be trouble. I just knew it."

"Are you the one who called the police?" an officer asked.

"Yep, that's right. I did." Sadie clucked like a mother hen over her chicks as she checked first Joanne then Sheila for injuries.

"You poor things. Honestly, I don't know how this place got to be so bad. Why, when I first moved here we didn't have any hooligans running around like they owned the place." Sadie gave the officer a reproachful look that could have meant it was their fault her neighborhood fell to ruins. "Are you girls sure you're okay?"

Joanne and Sheila both assured Sadie that they were fine.

Two more officers moved forward as Sadie took a breath. "We're going to need statements from all of you. If you could come this way."

"Sure, no problem," Sheila walked with the female officer toward the laundry room door.

"Miss, if you could come this way?" another female officer motioned to Joanne.

"Of course. Let me just pick up my laundry first." Joanne knelt next to her basket.

***

Roy separated himself from the noisy crowd from which he had been gathering statements and watched silently as the small girl in the bright yellow t-shirt knelt down on the ground and gathered clothes that were strewn about. On impulse, he hurried over and offered to help.

"Here, let me get that for you."

"No!" Startled, Joanne reacted. She looked up to find a pair of kind gray eyes watching her carefully. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still a little jumpy from all this." She motioned toward the crowd.

Roy stood then put a gentle hand under Joanne's elbow and lifted her effortlessly to her feet. He took both laundry baskets and strode toward a small bench outside the laundry room.

"Hey, where are you going with my clothes?"

Roy didn't bother answering her; he only cocked his head toward the other officer and asked if she'd taken the young lady's statement yet.

"I was just getting to that, sir."

"Okay, why don't you head over to see if Davis needs any help. I'll take over here."

"Yes, sir, Officer Bonham, sir." The female officer saluted then turned on her heel and moved quickly over to the group to give a hand.

"Is that how you get through life, just taking over?"

Roy carefully placed the baskets on the bench and turned to respond. All words escaped him when he looked down at the feisty spark in the young girl's blue eyes. She stood next to him; her arms hugged her thin body. He could see the writing on her t-shirt -'Dew Me' in bright neon green.

He smiled when she flipped her ponytail then crossed her arms over her chest as if knowing he was reading her t-shirt.

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm not sure."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm Sheriff Roy Bonham. I'll take your statement. Tell me what happened here." To cover his embarrassment, Roy pulled a small notebook and pen from his left breast pocket.

"We, uh . . . we, uh . . . I mean, Sheila and I were doing laundry and we . . ."

Tossing his notebook aside, Roy caught the slight woman before she fell to the ground. "Hey!"

He lifted her slender frame into his arms and sat on the bench. Roy gazed down at the face of the woman who just fainted. She was so small; she fit into his arms like a child. He noticed dark smudges beneath her eyes and wondered what kept her from getting enough sleep.

He raised his hand to brush a few strays of her honey colored hair from her forehead. His hand stopped when her eyelids fluttered open.

"What happened?"

"You fainted."

"No, I didn't."

A low rumble shook Roy's chest. "Yes, you did."

"I don't faint."

Roy tightened his arms when he noticed that her too-thin, soft body no longer lay pliant in his arms. "Hold on, let's make sure you're okay before you go moving around."

"Look Officer Bonham, I'm fine. Let me go, please."

He couldn't resist the embarrassed, pleading look in her eyes. "Alright. Be still." Roy released his hold on her and let her slide off his lap onto the bench. "Maybe you should see a paramedic just to be on the safe side?"

"I don't think so."

The sting in her voice pierced Roy's soul. It echoed on his face.

She must have seen the hurt look on his face because she hurried to say in a softer tone, "That's not necessary. I just got light headed. You know, the heat of the laundry room, the humidity, the cool night air, the . . ." she waved her arm to include the commotion surrounding them.

"Uh huh . . . when was the last time you ate?"

"I dunno. Lunch, maybe? No, wait. I skipped lunch to go and pick up some pants for Joey. I guess it was breakfast."

"You haven't eaten for over twelve hours? No wonder you fainted!"

"Yo, Bradford!" Roy yelled for a deputy sheriff. "Bring me a can of soda."

Roy looked down as a hand tapped his arm. "I drink diet soda."

"Not diet!" he yelled to Bradford then looked back at the young girl staring up at him. "You need the sugar."

His tone meant he wasn't going to argue about it. He watched her close her mouth and cross her hands over her chest. Looks like she's not used to being told what to do. I wonder why she's doing laundry and buying pants for this Joey instead of dating and doing what other girls her age do on the weekends?

###

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Tags: Plug Your Book!, online book promotion, book promotion, free book publicity, virtual book tour, Trust in the Wind, Vicki M. Taylor, contemporary romance, women's fiction, fiction

LOVE, LIES AND A DOUBLE SHOT OF DECEPTION

2007-05-31T00:29:00.000-04:00

Title of Book: LOVE, LIES AND A DOUBLE SHOT OF DECEPTION
Genre: romantic suspense
Author: Lois Winston
Website: www.loiswinston.com
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing
Date of Release: 5/29/07
ISBN: 978-0-505-52719-6

PURCHASE LOVE, LIES AND A DOUBLE SHOT OF DECEPTION HERE!

SUMMARY:
Life has delivered one sucker punch after another to Emma Wadsworth. As a matter of fact, you could say the poor little rich girl is the ultimate poster child for Money Can’t Buy Happiness — even if she is no longer a child. Billionaire real estate stud Logan Crawford is as famous for his less-than-platinum reputation as he is his business empire. In thirty-eight years he’s never fallen in love, and that’s just fine with him — until he meets Emma. But Emma’s not buying into Logan’s seductive ways. Well, maybe just alittle, but she’s definitely going into the affair with her eyes wide open. She’s no fool. At least not any more. Her deceased husband saw to that. Besides, she knows Logan will catch the first jet out of Philadelphia once he learns her secrets. Except things don’t go exactly as Emma has predicted, and when Philadelphia’s most beloved citizen become the city’s most notorious criminal, she needs to do a lot more than clear her name if she wants to save her budding romance with the billionaire hunk someone is willing to kill for.

EXCERPT

Winter wonderland, my ass.

The stinging wind whipped at Emma’s exposed cheeks and brought tears to her eyes. Lowering her head, she trudged around the enormous mounds of black snow piled along the curb, searching for a semi-safe path onto the sidewalk.

Finding none, she grabbed a parking meter and hauled herself over the smallest of the soot-encrusted icebergs. Some people would go to any lengths for their morning cup of java, and she was one of them.

As she yanked open the door to Chapters and Verse, the “Spring Movement” of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons greeted her. Someone had a really warped sense of humor. Or hoped the power of positive thinking could affect weather patterns. Still, the music held a reminder that the harsh realities of early February in Philadelphia would eventually give way to sunshine and flowers come late March. Maybe. Last year they’d suffered through
one of their worst blizzards ever the first week in April.

Emma shivered, thoughts of daffodils and crocuses quickly replaced by the chill rippling through her damp body. Shaking the moisture from her hair, she deposited her coat on a chair in the café, then headed for the coffee bar.

“Morning,” said the barista. “The usual?”

“Please.”

With her morning shot of caffeine and sugar in hand, Emma trolled the stacks of books, occasionally pulling a volume from the shelves and sliding it under her arm. She needed the predictability of this daily routine. It helped her get through the rest of the day. Every day.

Why the hell do I stay?

If she had any courage, she’d leave. Sell the house. Move away. Start over. But she couldn’t leave, and her reasons had little to do with a lack of courage. Life in Emmaville was just too damn complex. One part guilt, one part masochism. But how could she leave the only tangible reminder she had of life before everything had turned to shit?

So she stayed, losing herself in work that at least gave her the satisfaction of knowing her efforts helped others. She pushed herself each day until exhaustion overcame her and she fell into nightmare-riddled sleep.

Tomorrow morning the cycle would repeat itself. I’m a twenty-first century Sisyphus, eternally damned to live out an unending punishment for my sins. Not that she had a clue as to whatever sin first condemned her years before, but she’d certainly committed a whopper since then. Whether a sin of omission or commission, it hardly mattered. The result was the same.

Still, what would be the harm in a short escape? She deserved that much, didn’t she? Emma closed her eyes and conjured up a distant memory of a sun-kissed Adriatic coastline. Hell, why not? She opened her eyes and headed for the travel section.

* * *
Logan Crawford’s mind kept drifting back to the events of last night, an evening definitely not worth remembering. Even her name escaped him. Although normally not a problem, this time he was saddled with Candi-Randi-Bambi-whatever-the-hell-her-name-was for the length of his
stay in Philadelphia. As head of the city’s redevelopment office, she was his official escort-slash-liaison, the person assigned to make certain he chose the City of Brotherly Love as the East coast site for his corporate headquarters. And last night Candi-Randi-Bambi, a woman who wore her ambition emblazoned across her surgically augmented chest, made it abundantly clear just how far she’d go to get him to sign on the dotted line. And it was far from brotherly. Or sisterly.

Logan doubted he was the first billionaire businessman she’d bedded in her quest up the corporate ladder, but he’d wager a good portion of his sizeable fortune that he was the biggest -- the wunderkind west coast urban developer who was giving The Donald a run for his money. Only Logan had better hair -- as the media was quick to point out.

With a snap of his fingers, he could provide Candi-Randi-Bambi with an express elevator straight through the glass ceiling, and she knew it.

No fucking way in hell.

Last night when he stared down into Candi-Randi-Bambi’s come-hither eyes, he saw the reflection of a disillusioned, unhappy man. And damn, up to that moment he hadn’t even realized he’d been disillusioned or unhappy. He had wealth; he had power. So what was up with the sudden emptiness and dissatisfaction?

Beryl would say it was because he led a shallow life devoid of emotional commitment. As much as he protested to the contrary, he knew she was right. Maybe it was time to leave the bimbos to Trump.

Struck by the epiphany, he’d bolted from Candi-Randi-Bambi’s bed. They’d used each other. She spread her legs hoping to advance her career; he’d taken advantage of the offer. Sex without emotional entanglements, the pattern of his adult life. He got the release he needed, and the woman got a notch on her bedpost. Only this time it hadn’t worked. After thirty-eight years Logan Crawford realized it was time to grow up. Only damn it, he didn’t have a clue how.

Still reeling from the self-revelation, he’d canceled his morning appointments and headed his rental car north, needing some time alone to think. After driving for half an hour he found himself in a quiet, upscale section of Philadelphia. A bookstore on top of a hill beckoned like a
siren.

For the rest of his stay in Philadelphia he vowed to spend his nights curled up with a good thriller rather than a cheap thrill. Now all he had to do was find one. At the moment he couldn’t even find the damn fiction section in the boundless maze of shelves that wound around the first level of the two story megastore. Lost in the travel section, he spun on his heels
and
--
THUD!

###

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THE SEARCH FOR THE MILLION $$$ GHOST by Heide AW Kaminski, Dorothy Thompson, Pamela Lawniczak, and, of course, Henri

2007-05-25T01:13:00.000-04:00

Name of Book: The Search for the Million $$$ Ghost

Author(s): Dorothy Thompson, Heide AW Kaminski, Pam Lawniczak and of course, Henri, the Ghostest with the Mostest

Publisher: Mardi Gras Publishing

Date of Release: September 2006 (ebook); April 2007 (paperback)

ISBN: 0978998626

###

Summary:

Eccentric tobacco tycoon Rodger Hawthorne III can have anything his heart desires except his dead wife, Sarah. Feeling responsible for the car crash that killed her thirty years ago, he offers one million dollars to anyone who can find her spirit and bring it to him within one week or the money is forfeited. Six spiritually-challenged—but highly intuitive—women find his ad over the Internet and accept his challenge only to embark on a journey they didn’t quite expect that covers astral traveling, past life regressions and spiritual encounters of the unworldly kind. While this book is lightly based on a true story of a real man who is offering one million dollars to anyone who can prove that spirits exist, this story is purely fictional.

###

Excerpt:

Thank God I'm alive.

Sarah pulled herself from the wreckage. Just moments before, she felt her world coming to an incredible end, finalizing her mortal existence with just one wrong turn. Tossing her long, blonde hair behind her thin, frail shoulders, she looked down at her blood-stained blouse.

My husband will be so disappointed to see me like this.

Both sides of the road were littered with shattered glass and twisted metal. She picked up her step and ambled over to the open field, hoping to catch someone's attention.

Surely someone witnessed the car careening over the edge!

Out of nowhere, men and women gathered around the smoking carcass of steel, watching and whispering. She sensed a connection with them as they peered at her through certain unfamiliar eyes. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and gasped.

Sarah turned around and stared into the face of a kind young woman, identical to the one who frequented her nightly dreams. “I know you, don't I?”

The young woman nodded.

“I've seen you before,” she said.

“Don't be frightened,” said the young woman. “I'm Iro, your spiritual guide. You have many spiritual guides, my love, and I am just one of them.”

The young woman held out her hand and motioned for Sarah to follow her. She's almost floating, she thought as she gazed at the strange young woman who possessed an eerie likeness to someone with whom she had wandered before.

She followed the apparition to the front of the car and pointed to the body of another young girl lying motionless among the twisted metal. She looked down and gasped.

“No!” she cried. “That's not me! It can’t be!”

Iro brushed away the young girl's tears and pointed to a light across from her. A light so bright, it blinded her with its overwhelming beauty and splendor.

“This is the light you may enter now,” she explained. “It is hard for you to understand, but the time has come to leave this earthly plane and enter a new life and a new beginning. This is the ending of this life to which you have become accustomed for the last twenty-two years.”

Sarah looked at the bright beam of light directed at her, pulling her gently. "Yes," she said faintly, tears flowing down her cheeks, “I see it.”

“I know this must be difficult for you, my child,” Iro softly whispered, “but don't worry. You are in good hands now and I will do everything I can to help you. You must not be afraid.”

“But, what about my husband?” Sarah cried. “He will miss me terribly.”

“He will be fine,” said Iro, “for when he needs you, you can go to him.”

“He won't understand!”

“No, he won't understand, but in time he will learn that he needs to go on. More importantly, you need to go on.”

Sarah rose and brushed at her long, white skirt. He gave me this skirt. She fingered the delicate locket trimmed in gold that he gave her on her last birthday. Another present to win my affections when all along it was his love I craved.

Iro walked over to Sarah and held her face in her hands.

“I know what you are thinking, my dear,” she said. “You are saddened. Perhaps it would help if I told you that you have an alternative.”

The bewildered girl looked up into the warm, sea-blue eyes of the woman.

“An alternative?” she asked. “An alternative to what?”

Iro sighed and looked directly into the young girl's eyes. “An alternative to the hereafter.”

Puzzled, Sarah wanted her to go on, yet felt uneasy in her doing so.

“My child,” Iro continued, “there is a world you are not familiar yet, although you have crossed its paths many times and in many lifetimes.”

“The first rule to follow,” she continued, “is to never enter the light until you are ready to do so.”
Iro looked to the heavens and spoke very low, “That is the light of eternity.”

“You are an angel now,” she continued. “Your destiny was mapped out many, many years ago. You have to understand that you have many lives. And in each life, you are to learn important lessons in order to advance into the next realm. In order to do this, you must finish unfinished business on this plane.”

“So you are saying there is more work here to be done?” she asked. “What do I have to do?”

“I cannot tell you that. You have to learn that for yourself.”

Iro crept closer to her and whispered softly, “You will remain on this plane for however long it takes you to complete your soul's journey. When you are done and ready to enter the light, I will come for you.”

“Will you continue to guide me when I complete my soul's journey?”

“My mission is to stay by your side forever. I have been with you since you were created and will continue to light your path with love and guidance in this lifetime and every lifetime that shall follow. It is the path I chose when I crossed over into the light myself many, many years ago.”

“I think I understand now.”

“My love, there's a lot you don't understand. There are many, many lessons to be learned as you go through your life's journey. I have been your mother in your life and you have been mine. I have been in your lives many times. The child which was in your womb was in your past life and shall be in your many lives thereafter.”

“How did you know about my baby?” the young girl asked.

“Please, my child, I am not here to confuse you, only to comfort you. The child you were carrying has become an angel as you have become. That child has been with you all your life, guiding you when you were frightened, comforting you when you were sad and forlorn.”

“I have told you enough for now,” Iro continued. “You will find out this mystery when you find the answers on this plane. This is your soul's journey, my angel.”

“Why can't you tell me now?”

“My dear Sarah, if your existence on the spiritual level is to progress, you must confront each detour and learn to overcome it. Just as in the mortal world where you had to learn lessons, so be it in the spiritual world. You will not attain your highest place in the spiritual realm without learning these things and finding the answers yourself. If you do not learn from them and find the answers, you will remain on this lowly plane and wander the earth forever.

“There is a lot to what I have told you and still more to learn. All will become clear to you after you complete your journey. Immortality is infinite; it has no beginning and no end. We evolve and continue to evolve until we reach the highest level. It is there that you will find eternal peace and happiness.”

The young woman stood and motioned for the girl to come closer.

“Come here, love.”

Sarah rose ever so slowly and walked over to the young woman.

“I love you and am here for you whenever you need me,” she said. “It is not a lonely journey you seek, for I will be with you as I have been before. Now it is time for you to go and fulfill your mission. When it has been completed, I will return for you.”

The young girl smiled, knowingly.

“I will leave you know to fulfill your destiny and when that is done, I will take you to the light to be with your son forever.”

With that, Iro vanished, leaving Sarah to begin her spiritual journey.

###

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Tags: The Search for the Million $$$ Ghost, Dorothy Thompson, Heide AW Kaminski, Pam Lawniczak, paranormal romance, ghosts, paranormal

ABOUT US

2007-05-24T01:00:00.000-04:00

Welcome to PLUG YOUR BOOK!, a blog designed especially for authors who would like to plug their book and, the great part is, IT'S ABSOLUTELY FREE.

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