Excerpt:
“Where are you going?” Tia’s eyes were wide with anxiety.
“Out.”
“But I don’t know this town at all.”
“Don’t leave the inn then!”
As soon as he stepped out into the night, all of his warmth left him. However, the wheat ales—much stronger than he was used to—had begun to take effect. That, combined with the fact that his last meal had been hours before, made the cold a distant sensation. Strapping his staff to his back, he picked a direction and wandered off—his mind getting mushier and more vulnerable to his increasingly foul mood.
Tia had always been a very supportive girl. What had changed? Or had she always been like this and her support was just an act? Did she really think that he would abandon her? I would never do such a thing, he thought indignantly. He wasn’t his father. Sure, yea, he could be a little flirtatious, he admitted. But that was harmless. Why couldn’t Tia see that? After all, he’d asked her to run away with him. Didn’t that imply he wanted to start a life with her? Didn’t that mean anything to her? His mind was plagued with too many questions and not enough answers.
Abruptly, he found himself in a dark, dimly lit alley, with buildings rising up around him.
Everything seemed ... slightly off. Hesitantly, he walked down the alley and made a few turns. A few moments of wandering later, he admitted that he was lost and decided to retrace his steps, but it all looked unfamiliar. With no other option he kept walking, hoping to find his way back, when he came upon three men in a dark corner.
“Give it up, you unworthy bastard!” said one of the men, who had a lilting accent. He was clutching another man’s collar in one hand while wielding a knife in the other. A third man stood and watched.
“I did not steal it! He gave it to me!” cried the captive man.
“Do not lie, you swinespawn!”
“I swear by the names of the Miakos. He gave it to me!”
The third man still just stood and watched.
Adir wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was his anger and he just needed to let it out. Or maybe he understood how the captive man felt; after all, he had been ambushed a couple of times himself. Whatever the reasoning of his drink-addled mind, he unstrapped his staff and charged.
The man who’d been watching noticed Adir and whirled around, pulling out a knife of his own. However, knives were a poor defense against the long reach of a staff. Adir whipped his staff sideways, cracking the man in the skull, who dropped to the ground, motionless.
The man who held the captive by his collar was startled by the sudden attack and shoved his captive to the ground. The captive lay on his stomach, face cupped in his hands as if trying to shut out his current plight.
Adir felt a surge of energy course through him as he pulled his staff back, preparing for a thrust.
He lunged, briefly catching a look of horror on the man’s face, and thrust his staff square into the man’s chest. The impact sent the man flying a few paces before he slammed into a wall and slumped to the ground.
For a moment that lasted one flap of a bee’s wing, Adir saw a rain- bow-colored haze on his hand, creeping up his arm. Fearfully, he jerked his hand to his face for a closer examination, but the haze was no longer there.
The once-captive, now-free man looked up from his prone position and surveyed the scene, then stood. “Thank you, master,” he said, bowing and scraping. “I am forever in your debt.”
The man’s words seemed to tumble out of his mouth in a clatter, or maybe Adir couldn’t understand him on account of being severely drunk. “What did you steal from them?” Adir asked, eyeing the man suspiciously, his inebriation fueling his paranoia. Sure, he’d saved the bearded man, but that didn’t mean the man was harmless.
“I did not steal anything, master,” the man said, still pronouncing every word oddly.
Adir looked at him, trying to force his eyes to focus. “All right,” he said, realizing that he’d do nothing even if the man admitted to stealing something. All he really wanted to do was get back to the inn and sleep. “Do you know the way to The Soft Pillow?” he asked, trying and failing miserably to strap his staff onto his back.
“Ya, master,” the man replied with enthusiasm. “I will take you there.”
Deal Sharing Aunt
Tuesday, November 5, 2024
The Staff of Beckoning by Praneet Menon Excerpt
Monday, November 4, 2024
Alone with a Tasman Tiger (Chic Charlie) by Jane Ellyson Interview & Giveaway
Alone with a Tasman Tiger (Chic Charlie) by Jane Ellyson
About Alone with a Tasman Tiger
Alone with a Tasman Tiger (Chic Charlie)
Australian Cozy Mystery
2nd in Series
Settings – Brisbane, Sydney, Tasmania and London
Publisher : Stanley Press (September 23, 2024)
Paperback : 398 pages
ISBN-10 : 0648660788
ISBN-13 : 978-0648660781
Digital ASIN : B0D6Z31ND7
(314 pages)
A high stakes race. A missing friend and a search for the impossible.
In the Tasmanian wilderness six contestants battle it out to win $250,000. Only five finish.
In Bass Strait the Blue Gazelle yacht tackles fierce winds, huge waves and a phantom vessel, in its race to win the Tattersall Cup.
In London a fashion designer learns about a Belarussian scientist, possibly involved with a deadly technology.
In Hobart a search party is launched for a missing sailor.
At the centre of investigations are two feisty sleuths, Galina Ivanov and Charlotte Harmon, who are looking for clues which could save their partners and stop the spread of a devastating weapon.
Can they find them before all hope is lost?
About Jane Ellyson
Jane Ellyson has written six novels across the action, adventure and romance genres. Having lived in Europe and Asia, in addition to her native Australia, her stories frequently visit beautiful locations. She currently lives at Possum Creek, just out of Bangalow in northern New South Wales, Australia – well she would if she was real – rather than being the pen name of someone who would prefer to remain anonymous.
Previous novels include:- Over Byron Bay
- Substitute Child
- Roman Roulette
- Missing in Myanmar
- Nonsense in the North
- An Extraordinary Wedding
Where are you from?
Currently live in Brisbane which is the capital of Queensland. I’ve lived in the UK, France and Thailand in addition to my native Australia.
Tell us your latest news?
Excited to have just released by latest novel: Alone with a Tasman Tiger: A high stakes race, a missing friend and a search for the impossible.
It’s an intriguing tale with two competitions: one a survival challenge in the Tassie wilderness and the other during the Sydney to Hobart yacht race. And there’s also a search for the possibly not-yet-extinct Thylacine or Tasmanian Tiger.
Winning $250,000 in a bush-survival competition in Tasmania would give Sebastian Ward choices. But he’s promised his mate Scott he’ll sail in the Sydney to Hobart yacht race in 100 days’ time. Seb’s confident he’ll outlast the other competitors and make it back to Sydney before the starting cannon fires.
At the beginning of the contest, he forms an unlikely relationship with the wild-spirited Galina. This breaks all the rules…
When and why did you begin writing?
Our of university. I wrote a love story. Sent it to Mills and Boon who told me it was too dark for their readers. Independent publishing was not available as an option at that time. So I put my novel in a drawer.
I continued writing. It was fun. I loved to do it.To imagine impossible situations, and a creative way out of them.
I started writing stories for my nieces and nephews with them in it. Written out of love
Around 2010 I was following independent writers like Joanna Penn and Mark Dawson, learning about the steps in the process and how you could craft a novel that stood proudly on the shelves next to all the traditionally published authors.
I took a break from corporate life to undertake research for a PhD. I found the style of writing stifling. I couldn’t be me. So one morning when I was stuck, I gave myself permission to rewrite my thesis in my own messy voice. And that thought kept me sane.
So I wrote a short book called Engagement Whisperer: A quieter and more collaborative approach to inspiring your team based on my research I then dusted off Over Byron Bay and published it as well. And then I kept going
To date I’ve written 7 novels across the romance/action-adventure and mystery genres and 7 non-fiction books that are a combination of business books and travel memoirs.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Such a good question. So many writers have difficulty declaring themselves to be a writer. Including myself. I had been writing, but not publishing for many years. I felt like a fraud to call myself a writer
What inspired you to write your first book?
I loved stories that took you on an emotional rollercoaster. Great love. Huge Loss. Journey back to whatever normal is. My first novel was over 20 years in the writing – including a lot of time sitting in a drawer. It’s called Over Byron Bay and is a friends to lovers trope – all about inconvenient timing and tragedy, drawing together and tearing apart two friends. Writing creates a safe and wonderful place to explore scenarios.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I like to read, fast moving stories in interesting places around the word like those written by Heather Rose, Dan Brownor Jeffrey Archer. For me, every word has to fight for the right to be on the page. Every sentence needs to either move the story forward or help the main protagonist along on their personal journey.
I dislike fluff and padding – and I know that as a result, some readers have told me the story has sometimes moved too quickly.
How did you come up with the title?
There are survival competitions happening around the world. Being able to build a shelter, find food and cope with ‘being alone’ are core.
Australians also have a fascination with an animal believe to be extinct. Its official name is Thylacine although it’s more common name is Tasmanian Tiger. If you’re not from Australia, you’ve probably never heard of the animal that was last seen alive in captivity in1936. Since then, there have been reported sightings with multiple groups sharing of theories and photos, ever hopeful that it still exists.
There’s symbolism, mythology and heartache around the Tasman Tiger? Why is this so?
Firstly, the thylacine's extinction is often viewed as a tragic symbol of human impact on the natural environment.
Secondly, the thylacine was an iconic species in Tasmania and the broader Australian consciousness. Its extinction left a lasting mark on the national psyche. It serves as a reminder of the fragility of Australia's unique wildlife.
Thirdly, it’s a symbol of hope. Despite being declared extinct in 1936, there have been numerous unverified sightings and reports of the thylacine over the decades. These reports keep the mystery alive and fuel speculation that small populations might still exist in remote areas. The possibility of rediscovering a species thought to be extinct is thrilling. It offers a sense of hope and a potential scientific breakthrough that captivates both the public and researchers.
There’s also a great deal of scientific interest in the animal with its extinction providing valuable lessons for conservation efforts. Understanding what led to its extinction can help in protecting other endangered species. Additionally, advances in genetics have led to discussions about the potential for "de-extinction"—bringing back the thylacine through cloning or other methods.
This scientific possibility fascinates many and adds to the intrigue.
The thylacine continues to appear in books, (like my latest novel, Alone with a Tasman Tiger), documentaries, and films, which helps keep the story alive in the public imagination. Its enigmatic status makes it a compelling subject for storytelling. It was therefore a cheeky choice to call my book – Alone with a Tasman Tiger.
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
An experience – rather than a message. I want them to enjoy the story, set in the Australian wilderness and the high sea. I’m hoping that they will be enchanted by our protagonist and amateur sleuth, Galina and her character arc.
What would you like my readers to know?
That it is a work of fiction, escapist fiction, and I hope – a great read.
There are several key animal relationships in the story that I understand you love. With both domestic and native animals.
And readers can be reassured that this cozy mystery is full of relatable and likable characters, that there’s a puzzle to be solved (no more details here today) and a guaranteed feel-good ending.
Link to promotional video below.
https://youtu.be/ihonaYdKZDY?si=ml8a_AQ0tQ0witHQ
Interview with my husband
https://youtu.be/yX0g_Ta_ALY?si=0FkZBulw-r6neiaY
Author Links
Twitter/X https://twitter.com/janeellyson1
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/JaneEllysonAuthor
Threads https://www.threads.net/@janeellyson
Linked In https://www.linkedin.com/in/jane-ellyson-11627a127/
Purchase Links:
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STOP HERE – ADDITIONAL IMAGES DO NOT NEED TO BE PART OF YOUR POSTS Additional ImagesSunday, November 3, 2024
Here Lyeth by Johanna Frank Excerpt & Giveaway
Here Lyeth
Johanna Frank
(A Lifeline Fantasy Novel)
Publication date: November 1st 2024
Genres: Fantasy, Supernatural
A small-scale supernatural fantasy on big, real-life values. A story of rewiring unworthiness and searching for a place to belong. Pre-order your copy today for an extraordinary, heartwarming read that is sure to unearth you. Release date, November 1, 2024.
Answers are buried beneath a grave marker. Only it happens to be her own.
Something was missing. It was easy for Lexxie to bury that niggling sense, she had all the love and protection a young woman needed. But when the man she thought to be her father spilled a fever-pitched confession—that she’d been taken from her real family as an infant—her content and isolated life ended.
STIRRING… EXTRAORDINARY… UPLIFTING…
Angry and heartbroken, Lexxie left the people she loved on a mere hint—her true father lived in Vereiteln Dorf, two villages over. Once there, she’s drawn to an unconsecrated graveyard. Since answers don’t come easy from the locals, she’s forced to make many assumptions and patch puzzling pieces together. But the more she does, the more her presence in this superstitious village becomes a threat, and the more she gives credence to a voice coming from a pit of ashes. The perils of a noose amid a 1688 witch hunt lay heavy on her shoulders.
Years earlier, in the same village, young Meginhardt succumbs to a vicious attack. Ethereal beings take him on a time-traveling journey to shake away the lad’s deeply rooted struggles of unworthiness.
But when Meginhardt learns that some woman named Lexxie is the chosen one to carry forward his father’s line of descendants, he throws away all he’s been shown. Fits of jealousy ensue—a dream shattered. It should have been him. He becomes frantic to ensure the demise of this undeserving woman. In apparitional form, he delivers Lexxie a message, face to face.
Her future lyeth in his words.
-The standalone background story to the Prologue in The Gatekeeper’s Descendants
-Book length approximately 90,000 words
-Recommended for Young Adults (14+) and up
-An edifying story involving feelings of unworthiness and a need to belong
-A small-scale fantasy representing the outskirts of heavenMore from the author:
The Gatekeeper’s Descendants, a standalone family drama involving bullying and grief
Jophiel’s Secret, a standalone adventure involving unforgiveness and grief
—
EXCERPT:
Anger tucked aside, she scurried up without bothering to read the inscriptions on the risers. Needing the strength of both arms, she pulled the door open wide. The haunting drawn-out creak confirmed a renewal of focus on her single priority. Find my lineage, my true father. Then new life is certain to follow.
An entrance hall revealed itself, though dark with looming shadows. Unable to avoid inhaling the displeasing odor, a mixture of lingering day-old incense and strong lye soap, her throat did a gaggle. Nothing like the sweet-pine pews inside her white-stucco church.
Attempting to step quiet-like, she still clicked her shoes against the marble floor, her feet inside all that lavish commenced to swell and pine for attention. Huh, stomping through town in modish spikes, ’tis not wise.
A figure across the room sat up on its knees and twisted a neck to inspect the visitor. Even in the darkness, the woman appeared maturely aged.
Unfolding with a painful slowness, the woman stood and rubbed her hands into her apron. With such a crippling figure, she couldn’t have had an easy go at life. Her head, a weighty slump, her neck, cranked to one side. Had she eaten in a while? So thin. And dressed in all black. Scrubbing a floor that already shone—preparing for a wedding or cleaning after the ceremony of a disposed corpse perhaps?
“State yer business,” the woman gnarled.
The plucky tone surprised. “Guten morgen, I’m, ah, here to examine the registers for births and deaths—if I may.” Politeness best protect her from being turned away. Harmon always said one achieved more with kindness than with harshness.
“Yer a stranger.” The woman’s shaking middle finger accused.
Huh. This woman the epitome of the latter.
“Madam, ’tis that I am. Please be, I intend no harm. I assure you. Just seeking. I shan’t be long.” Should be easy to check births around the time of her own, though this woman need not know that specific detail.
“Seeking? Huh, seeking ye what?”
Was it so wrong to seek? Lexxie sucked in a full breath. Her throat irritated by resins, she stifled a cough. But nay, she hadn’t come all this way to permit some grumpy old spinster to blockade her. Forget the kindness of honey, Harmon. Time for some harsh vinegar.
“Are ye cloaking history? Is that what you are saying, madam?”
The old woman shot an indication to a wooden door hidden beside the nave.
Lexxie jockeyed between pews in the direction the bony finger specified, stifling the clicks of her shoes as much as possible.
Whew. She knocked.
“We don’t lock history.” The old woman’s crusty voice echoed, having the last word.
This door, not nearly the heft nor clangor as the one fronting the church, Lexxie nudged and invited herself in. Larger than one might expect, the narrow room hosted wooden shelving loaded with books up to the ceiling sidelong. A movable ladder rested against the end wall, and an unlit kerosene lamp awaited on the single high table.
Help would be nice, some guidance as to the order of records. Lexxie glanced back where the scowling woman gave her a second glance. Then again, Lexxie could figure it out herself. After lighting the lamp, she shut the door for privacy.
A musty flavor and layers of dust from decades past awoke and scurried about. No window to allow a breeze of any sort. Once her sneezes settled, she walked the length of the room, thankful now for those daylong lessons in reading and writing with Grossmutter. ’Twas the age of enlightenment, Grossmutter would say. She kept at least one lesson ahead of Lexxie, so as to in turn share the blessing.
A thin cotton curtain covered one section of shelving beside a nailed sign—Prohibited Books. She edged closer to shelving with books of various sizes, difficult to distinguish due to caging, each row with its own locked latch. Huh, don’t lock history, say you?
She wandered to a series of consistent volumes laying heavy on their own, their leathery pasteboard covers bound with cord and red edging their pages. Numbers stitched atop.
Years, yes! Those ones were organized by years. They had to be the records she sought.
All she possessed now was her birth year. Harmon wouldn’t have lied about her age, would he?
A shiver ran through her veins. There had to be over seventy books, each covering a year, each varying in thickness.
Here it be: 1671. Energizing another dust cloud with a loud exhale, she heaved the book off the shelf and clutched it tight to her bosom. Her heartbeat thumped against the pasteboard cover. The registry for the year she was born must speak to her, reveal information she was desperate for. Vital to get on with any way of future.
She released her gripping hug, placed the heavy book on the table, and wiped dry her sweaty palms down the skirt of her new frock.
Overwhelm assaulted her. Harmon, the loving father she adored all those years. Grossmutter, the wise, gentle, and kind grandmother, her only female influencer. Was it true they be not her family? Would opening this book mean turning her back on them?
’Course, she’d already done so, hadn’t she?
If only they were cruel or unloving. Made her work like a slave. Cussed and cursed her day in and day out. This then would be so much easier. Her fingers twitched to shove the book back onto its shelf. Her legs urged her to take flight, run all the way back to Avondale, and bury this outlandish nonsense.
But nonsense, it weren’t.
The pounding in her chest begged to keep going, threatening to explode if she stopped now. She almost missed the rubbing of hinges, the only door to this library tomb opening, a male figure entering, the unwelcoming floor-polishing ogre poking her head around him to catch a glimpse.
“Searching, are we?” The man’s monotoned query struck an unexplainable chord.
Author Bio:
Not proud to admit, I’ve struggled with authority and routine since I can remember. A feisty red-headed child, I’ve barrelled my fist through windowpanes, ran away numerous times (to a bowling alley of all places), and even once, used a water pistol on my high school science teacher (right in his face, it was a dare). I actually managed to attain a master’s degree in business (though, really didn’t use it much). Instead, I preferred weekday evening classes in theology and weekend scribbling sessions of fantasy fiction. Losing a beloved teenage daughter to cancer snapped me to attention, then another (the second, a dear step-daughter) really did me in. Besides relishing the dearness of my husband and our other three children and their families, I write fantasy fiction with meaning. My mantra (which I made up of course) …because even a little heavenly imagination can loosen the chains of life. - Johanna Frank
"Frank, one of Canada’s emerging authors in spiritual fantasy, walks a fine line between general fantasy and faith-based fiction. Her work aims to innovate and transcend traditional boundaries, catering to a hungry market of curious readers who don’t want to be preached to but are open to exploring spiritual themes through fantasy." - Sheri Hoyte, Reader Views
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Hannah's Pony Twist (Dream Pony Riders) by Susan Count Giveaway
Hannah's Pony Twist (Dream Pony Riders) by Susan Count
About Hannah's Pony Twist
Hannah's Pony Twist (Dream Pony Riders)
Middle-Grade Horse Novel
Reading age : 8 - 12 years
6th in Series
Publisher : Hastings Creations Group
(October 8, 2024)
Hardcover : 190 pages
ISBN-10 : 1952371201
ISBN-13 : 978-1952371202
Digital ASIN : B0DGS287C7
Will what the pony needs break Hannah’s heart?
Freckles can’t be convinced to trot sometimes, and even though that’s fine with Hannah, she suspects something must be wrong with the pony. The barn manager thinks it’s time to retire him, so the vet is called and tests are run.
But Hannah enjoys being with Freckles even if they only walk down the trails. She ignores the facts. When all her efforts to help him fail, she tries desperately to write a happy ending to her pony story.
Will she have to put on her big girl breeches and let Freckles take his own trail, or is she the real problem?
About Susan Count
Susan Count writes for the joy and entertainment of young readers. She is an Amazon best-selling, award-winning author of the Dream Horse Adventures Series, Dream Pony Riders Series, and Texas Boys Adventures.
She prefers to create stories in a quiet zone. Out her window, her mind wanders through the forest and keeps her in a grateful, contented state of being. Susan writes at a fabulous antique desk that has secret compartments filled with memories, mysteries, and story ideas. As a member of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators, American Christian Fiction Writers and Alliance for Independent Authors, she takes studying the craft of writing seriously.
Susan confesses to being overly fond of brownies, and horseback riding on forest trails. She is a lifelong equestrian and is owned by a Rocky Mountain Horse.
You are invited to saddle up and ride along. www. susancount.com E-mail a comment: susancountauthor@yahoo.com Hearing from readers is a great delight and encourages me to keep writing.Have you signed up to be a Tour Host? Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today! Want to Book a Tour? Click Here
Saturday, November 2, 2024
Madden by Laramie Briscoe Teaser
Title: Madden (Laurel Springs Emergency Team, #9
Author: Laramie Briscoe
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: , 2024
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
From USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author comes the next book in the Laurel Springs Emergency Response Team.
Trust Laramie Briscoe to provide engaging characters in a well-built world I want to revisit again and again. Carly Phillips, NY Times bestselling author. Madden
Being the newest member of the Laurel Springs Police Department and the LSERT hasn't been easy. I'm trying to carve out a place of my own where family bonds run deep in this tight-knit group of men. They haven't been unwelcoming, but I yearn to truly belong.
In both Laurel Springs, and the LSERT. The one friend I can count on is my K-9 partner, Donut. We're working hard to prove our spot in the police department, and find a sense of home.
When I'm thrust into the role of school resource officer for the local elementary school, I never anticipate being drawn into an investigation that threatens to unravel the fabric of Laurel Springs. Going back to the origins of the Moonshine Task Force. Nor do I expect a little boy with sad eyes and his hot aunt to wiggle their way into my heart. Becca My new life as a dispatcher is a far cry from the dreams I had before I took custody of my nephew. I've put a lot on hold to make sure he has what he needs, and the stability he craves.
But Madden? He's a beacon of warmth and strength during an emotionally cold time for me. Despite my resolve to focus just on being a guardian, there's a spark between us, igniting a flame I thought was long gone.
As we navigate what is becoming an increasingly complex situation, we discover that in the craziness of chaos, love has a way of finding it's place. Even in the darkest of nights.
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Laramie Briscoe is the USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author of over 30 books, with sales of over half a million copies.
Since self-publishing her first book in May of 2013, Laramie has appeared on the Top 100 Bestselling E-books Lists on Apple Books, Amazon Kindle, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble. Her books have been known to make readers laugh and cry. They are guaranteed to be emotional, steamy reads.
When she's not writing alpha males who seriously love their women, she loves spending time with friends, reading, and marathoning shows on Netflix. Married to her high school sweetheart, Laramie lives in Bowling Green, KY with her husband.