Prick by DL Hammons blitz with giveaway
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Prick
DL Hammons
Publication date: December 12th 2023
Genres: Suspense, Thriller, Young Adult
People are dying under mysterious circumstances in the small town of New Haven. And the city’s best hope of uncovering the truth rests with a troubled teen and the girl who can’t stand him.
Cassie Underwood’s life is shattered when her younger sister dies in a freak car accident. In her grief, Cassie unfairly blames her sister’s constant companion—Taggart McGill—a boy with a sketchy past and abrasive personality. As Cassie attempts to recover from the loss, she struggles to honor her late sister’s memory by befriending the person she resents most.
Things get complicated when Cassie overhears a fellow student asking Taggart to convince the police another death in the accident had nothing to do with the crash at all. Taggart surprisingly agrees and a suspicious Cassie decides to accompany him in his snooping. She soon learns everything she knows about Taggart is wrong… and he has insight into things that link the car accident to other suspicious deaths in their close-knit community.
Now it seems there’s only one thing keeping Cassie’s name off the growing list of victims—finding out who Taggart McGill really is.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble
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EXCERPT:
“Didn’t my sister ever tell you that the way you dress is a bit clichéd? I mean, look at you. The isolated loner, the social outcast, in a dark hoodie? Really?”
I wasn’t sure what changed, maybe something in his posture, but he seemed to soften.
“It might be cliché, but it’s practical.”
“How so?”
Taggart pulled a pair of white earbuds from inside the sweatshirt and plugged them into his ears, then pulled up his hood, which completely covered his face, blocking me—and everything else—out.
I leaned over the edge of the table, pulled back his hood and yanked out his buds. He didn’t resist.
“Point taken.”
“Obviously not.”
Author Bio:
DL Hammons wrote his first piece of fiction decades ago … to impress a girl (it was moderately successful), and he hasn’t looked back.
He wrote a script for a 15-minute audiotape in the style of old radio shows (i.e., Little Orphan Annie, Dick Tracy), for which his group received an A+ and he was praised for the originality of the story. He was hooked. He later joined the school newspaper and made a name for himself authoring sports articles and feature pieces.
Unfortunately, the seed planted in high school would lay dormant for decades while DL faced the realities of adult life. College exams, school loans, early morning alarms and late-night dinners, business trips, heart-stopping love, dirty diapers, mortgages, coaching clinics, scholarship applications, and everything else that tends to induce follicle disembarkation and enlarged prostates. It wasn’t until his children had flown the coop that “the itch” returned, and he had the time to give it the attention it deserved.
Growing up as a military brat, DL moved around quite a bit as a kid. After graduating from LSU and raising a family in several southern states, he now makes his home in Central Arkansas where he has spent the last dozen years perfecting his voice, splitting his writing time between YA and Adult Mystery/Suspense. Other than being an author, DL claims that the most interesting thing about him is that he lacks a sense of smell. Other passions include (but are not limited to) his family (including his two mini-Australian Shepards) music, movies, video gaming, and cool weather camping.
DL is represented by Tina P. Schwartz of the Purcell Agency.
Knight Rise and Fallen Knight are part of his adult Silent Sleuth series, and PRICK is his first Young Adult book – part of the Taggart McGill Mystery series.
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Trust No One by Glenn Dyer blitz with giveaway
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Trust No One
Glenn Dyer
(Conor Thorn Series, #4)
Publication date: December 11th 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Thriller
Loyalists meant to rid their country of a double-dealing collaborator. Instead, they created a threat that could destroy Allied unity.
Algiers. Winter 1942. Conor Thorn is devastated. He’s been fired from the OSS. His wife, Emily, has been fired from MI6. They allowed their morals to bend certain truths concerning the outcome of their last mission. Forever dedicated to defeating Axis powers, these skilled operatives jump at the chance to secretly help General Eisenhower deal with a political time bomb threatening Allied harmony and to redeem their honorable standing. To recover a rumored archive holding the truth about an assassination plot, they must travel deep into perilous Axis territory.
In the crosshairs of those determined to keep the information out of Allied hands, Conor and Emily fall victim to a violent assault. Though the resulting injuries leave him severely concussed and confused, Conor refuses to stand down while his beloved ventures deeper into danger.
Can Conor and Emily piece together a political puzzle in time to keep Allied unity from fracturing?
Trust No One is the high intensity, gritty fourth book in the Conor Thorn WWII espionage series inspired by true events. If you like heart-pounding action and white-knuckled tension, then you’ll love Glenn Dyer’s thrill ride through history.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble
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EXCERPT:
Conor stirred. His head was pounding like the bass drum in the US Naval Academy marching band. When he opened his eyes, one person stared back at him. The facial features were out of focus, as if he were looking through cheesecloth. He blinked. The onlooker’s mouth began to flap. He sat up, but his head almost exploded. A hand pushed him back. The cheesecloth dissolved, and he could see someone smiling at him. Given the slow shake of his head, Captain Jack Waddon was not pleased to see him.
“You are one lucky bastard, Conor,” Waddon said.
Conor looked around and recognized that he was back aboard Waddon’s Consolidated PBY-5 Catalina, the ship that had taken him, Emily, and Father
Sean Sullivan to Italy on their mission to snatch Ettore Majorana. “What did you say?” He could barely hear his own words. “What the hell happened?” He reached for his throbbing forehead and felt a knot the size of a billiard ball. The surface of his forehead radiated a low heat.
“You were introduced to a blackjack swung by one angry MP, that’s what happened,” Waddon said. “As far as being lucky, well, that’s because Commander Butcher saved your butt. Told the MP that he’d take it up with Colonel Eddy himself and see that you, being nonmilitary, would exit the theater as soon as he could arrange transport.”
Conor rolled over onto his right side. The two men were in the plane’s compartment forward of the waist gunner’s area and aft of the flight engineer’s compartment. He reached for the back of his head and discovered a lump where the blackjack had ambushed him. “Stevens?”
“Hauled out of there to the field hospital. Out cold. Like you were.”
Conor groaned.
“Here,” Waddon said as he handed him a damp handkerchief.
Conor spied white gauze peeking out from under Waddon’s left sleeve. Waddon had been wounded three weeks prior when his PBY approached the beach near Anzio to exfiltrate Conor, Emily, Sean Sullivan, and Ettore Majorana.
“How’s the arm?”
Waddon waved off the question. “On the mend. Already back in the left seat.”
Conor nodded, then held up the handkerchief. “What’s this for?”
“Your ear. There’s some dried blood. Stevens must have landed at least one blow.”
Conor took the handkerchief and dabbed at his right ear, loosening some dried flakes but also coming away with some fresh blood. The bass drummer in his head pounded away. His head had seen better days.
“So you dragged my ass here after Butcher saved it?”
“Yep. Me and DiLazzaro. We thought you had some lead bars in your pockets. You were a load getting you in here.” Seaman Eugene DiLazzaro was one of Waddon’s crew and had wound up part of Conor’s team that went ashore at Anzio. The New Jersey–born Italian American had handled himself like a pro, particularly when the shooting started.
Conor’s stomach roiled. Bile crept upward. A mixture of oil, perspiration, fuel, and grease hung in the air, fanning the flames of his nausea. “Jack, do you have a bucket? I don’t feel too good.”
“Conor, don’t you lose it in my ship,” Waddon said, scurrying forward in search of something to keep his Catalina puke-free. Conor wondered what did the most damage: the blow to the back of his head from the blackjack or the oak bar that gave no quarter when his head collided with it. Waddon returned with a collapsible canvas bucket and shoved it into Conor’s hands. “Here, and don’t miss.”
Conor leaned over the side of the bunk and let loose a stream of vomit that filled the bottom two inches of the bucket. When he finally felt he had no more to give, he handed it to Waddon and lay back. “So you just happened to be in the area when the action started?”
“Hey, I was thirsty.” Waddon went aft and tossed the bucket’s contents out through the open starboard-side blister. He returned and sat across from Conor on the port-side bunk. “When I approached the bar’s entrance, I saw Butcher coming from the other direction. We were about ten feet from the bar when we heard a massive crash. That must have been Stevens doing a back flop on the backbar. Two MPs were already there. We saw one lower the boom from just inside the doorway. We both cringed when your head hit the bar.”
“Well, thanks for the sympathetic cringes. Then what?”
“I already told you. Don’t you remember?”
Conor shook his head and felt the pain surge as if his brain were bouncing around inside his skull.
“Like I said, Butcher jumped in, threw Ike’s name around a bit, and eventually, the MPs backed down. He told them to get Stevens to the field hospital and told me to take care of you, but not to go far. That he needed to see you when you got put back together. He wanted me to get this to you.” Waddon handed over a note.
Conor unfolded the paper. It was short and sweet. He folded the note and put it in his pants pocket, then settled back to let the whitecaps in his stomach calm down.
“Well, you going to let me in on it or not?”
“He wants to know why Donovan shitcanned me.”
Author Bio:
GLENN DYER is a former commercial television executive whose career spanned over thirty-five years. That career took him to cities such as Salt Lake City, Dallas, Washington, DC, and Denver. He returned to Park City, Utah in retirement in 2013 to write full-time. He is an associate member of the International Thriller Writers, the Author’s Guild and The OSS Society. Glenn attended Villanova University and graduated from Boston University. He and his wife, Chris, have three children, all of whom live too far away. Visit his website at http://www.glenndyer.net and follow him on Twitter @duffy_dyer and Instagram @glennduffydyer.
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Cover Reveal: Fairy Tales of the Magicorum #4-8 by Christina Bauer
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Fairy Tales of the Magicorum #4-8
Christina Bauer
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult
Fairy Tales of the Magicorum #4 – Slippers And Thieves – Description:
Years ago, Elle ― never call her Cinderella ― escaped her evil step family in order to build a new life for herself in Manhattan. Today, Elle’s awful past is a distant memory. In fact, Elle even attends West Lake Prep, an exclusive high school where regular humans mix with members of the Magicorum, such as fairies, shifters and witches. Although she still must live in hiding from her evil step family, Elle always has found ways to get whatever her heart desires.
That is, until Alec Le Charme. Sure, Alec is the heir to the Le Charme dynasty of high-end jewelers, but he’s also kind, charismatic, and has a knee-melting smile.
Long story short, Elle has fallen for Alec, hard. Unfortunately, thanks to Elle’s evil step family, the Le Charme heir is absolutely off limits. In fact, if Elle and Alec so much as kiss, it could start a magical chain reaction that would end in powerful factions of witches and wizards going to war. As a result, Elle and Alec vow to stay friends, no matter what. Then West Lake Prep holds a masquerade ball. Identities get mixed up and forbidden kisses are finally shared.
Time for the Magicorum to go to war, and for Elle to confront her hidden past in ways she never thought possible.
Author Bio:
Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.
Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.
Be the first to know about new releases from Christina by signing up for her newsletter: http://tinyurl.com/CBupdates
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Cover Reveal: The Sword and the Hounds by A. B. Finlayson
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
The Sword and the Hounds
A. B. Finlayson
(Arthur Crazy, #2)
Published by: Parliament House
Publication date: April 9th 2024
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Urban Fantasy
Now he’s just drunk. The dead are silent, and Arthur is worried he might be living up to the family name. But after going back to where the Crazy people live and spending months sleeping off hangovers in his childhood bed, it’s finally time to return to the land of the living.
Unfortunately, the dead are not done with Arthur.
The hounds are stirring.
The guardians are moving.
The Shadowmen are watching.
And the sword in Arthur’s possession is calling them all.
They’re on their way, but you know what Britain is like—public transport is a joke. Especially at Christmas, it could take some time.
Some people have skeletons in their closet. Arthur has ghosts in his dreams and a sword under his bed… and every greedy ghoul wants it!
Evil stirs in Yorkshire.
Britain needs a hero.
Arthur needs a coffee.
On the moors, the devil rises.
Author Bio:
A Yorkshire lad living in the sun. I make up stories and eventually write them down.
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Rome’s Last Noble Palace by Kimberly Sullivan blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Rome’s Last Noble Palace
Kimberly Sullivan
Publication date: December 6th 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Paranormal, Women’s Fiction
Two women. Two different centuries. One attic room
American Isabelle Field has been shipped off to Rome to live with her aunt, Princess Elizabeth Brancaccio. Isabelle’s aunt and mother share a common goal – replicating Elizabeth’s success by marrying Isabelle off to a European nobleman.
But Rome in 1896 is on the cusp of a new century and Isabelle longs for more than a titled husband. She secretly designs costumes for Rome’s burgeoning theatre environment and dreams of opening a fashion atelier. Can she gather the courage to forge a life for herself, even if it means going against expectations?
Over a century later, doctoral candidate Sophie Nouri can’t believe her good fortune when she is selected to intern in Rome’s Near Eastern Art Museum. Even better, the position includes an attic apartment in the spectacular museum property, the Palazzo Brancaccio.
Overseeing a major exhibition is stressful, but tension alone can’t explain the disturbing nighttime presence in the deserted hallways of the grand palace – especially one no one else can sense. Almost as if a spectral being is trying to communicate with Sophie directly. Or warn her.
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EXCERPT:
Rome, 2018
SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the high windows, coaxing Sophie from her dreams. She cracked one eye open, groaning at the early hour on the travel alarm clock. How had she forgotten to close the shutters last night? Blame it on the jet lag of someone no longer used to international travel.
She turned her head to observe Matt’s sleeping form. His chest rose and fell in a calm, steady rhythm. A little sunlight seeping through the windows would never wake him this early. He was made of stronger stuff.
She turned back to the window, struck again by golden Roman light she’d forgotten after so many years away. Not at all like the diffused light back home. Sparrows swooped in graceful arcs across the cloudless, cerulean sky. As the sleepiness seeped from her eyes and her gaze sharpened, the bright, white blocks began to take shape. Her heart beat faster. The familiar but
long-dormant sense of fear coursed through her body. She hadn’t been expecting to feel it so deeply after all these years away.
Closing her eyes, she took a calming breath and formed images of waking in her bedroom at home. The branch of the oak tree scraping the bedroom window, the twittering of the birds, the bold squirrel that peeked in her window most mornings, the creaks and groans of the old, converted farmhouse. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed, the fear seeped away. She inhaled deeply, counted to ten and exhaled.
She could do this.
She fixed a determined gaze on the grand palazzo, glittering white in the strong Mediterranean sunlight. Some of its brown shutters were open, others closed like sleepy eyes reluctant to yield to the morning light. She remembered all those useless afternoon battles against the Roman sunlight filtering heat and blinding rays into those great rooms.
At the palazzo’s upper edge, lithe young angels kneeled in rows, their flowing curls cascading down to their shoulders. Their pointed wings punctuated the cornice above, curving vines sprouted from their bodies in a riot of intricate swirls. The young angels were separated from one another by lush greenery, unrolling in a seemingly endless, elegant row. She’d always known the carving was there, but she’d never observed the details from this angle. Everything had been different from within. Despite the warmth of the early morning sun, she shivered.
Ignoring a mounting sense of dread, Sophie pushed herself up gently, careful not to rouse Matt. Sliding bare feet into beckoning slippers, she padded softly to the door, her back decisively turned to the noble home.
Author Bio:
Kimberly grew up in the suburbs of Boston and in Saratoga Springs, New York, although she now calls the Harlem neighborhood of New York City home when she’s back in the US. She studied political science and history at Cornell University and earned her MBA, with a concentration in strategy and marketing, from Bocconi University in Milan.
Afflicted with a severe case of Wanderlust, she worked in journalism and government in the US, Czech Republic and Austria, before settling down in Rome, where she works in international development, and writes fiction any chance she gets.
She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) and The Historical Novel Society and has published several short stories and three novels: Three Coins, Dark Blue Waves and In The Shadow of The Apennines.
After years spent living in Italy with her Italian husband and sons, she’s fluent in speaking with her hands, and she loves setting her stories in her beautiful, adoptive country.
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