Poseidon’s Daughters: Reckoning by Reign Reeves Pearson 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.**
Poseidon’s Daughters: Reckoning
Reign Reeves Pearson
(Poseidon’s Daughters, #1)
Publication date: March 21st 2025
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction, Thriller
They trained her to be a weapon. Now, she’s turning the blade on them.Eirianwen was Poseidon’s crowning achievement—until she walked away from everything. She’s evaded them for years, carving out a life in the shadows, leaving behind the bloodstained world they forced her into. Now, the past she’s been running from has finally caught up. A storm-wracked night. A breach in her sanctuary. Someone is watching. Someone is waiting. And this time, they don’t just want her dead—they want her to doubt herself. They want the world to believe she’s lost her mind.
They’ve been watching her. Manipulating her. Preparing for her downfall.
Now, the elite organization that built her is coming to collect. Not to kill—to control. They don’t need to break her. They just need to make sure no one believes her when she starts screaming.They want her to understand that her escape, her freedom, was all an illusion.
Erased. Discredited. Untouchable.
But Eirianwen has spent her whole life surviving. And when the walls start closing in, she doesn’t run. She hunts.
Poseidon wants her desperate. Unraveling. Helpless.
They’re about to learn just how dangerous she can be.
—
EXCERPT:
Eirianwen ripped out the earpiece and slammed it onto the desk. Panic swirled at the edges of her mind, but she forced it down. Now wasn’t the time. She grabbed a larger bag from under the desk, slung it over her shoulder, and stormed out. In the closet, she set the bag aside, pressing a hidden panel on the side of her bed. A drawer slid open, revealing her arsenal. Her hands shook as she armed herself, snapping a knife into its sheath and loading a handgun with quick, practiced movements. Now, to find them. Moving swiftly, she ran through the house, slipping out the back door and straight into the storm-charged air. Sullivan’s workshop. If she was going to do this right, she’d need a shovel. She yanked open the heavy wooden door, eyes darting over the mess inside.Where the fuck is it? Why is this place always such a goddamn disaster?
A glint of metal under the workbench caught her eye. She crouched, snatched up a spade, and bolted back outside. The rain had started in earnest, cold drops slicing through the thick humidity. She sprinted to where the trackers last pinged, her boots sinking slightly into the softening earth, almost tripping thanks to a low spot. Looking back at the spot, it was all wrong. She knew something was buried there.
Gripping the shovel tightly, she drove it into the ground. The soil gave easily…far too easily. The clay should have been a nightmare to dig through. Someone had already done the work for her. Within moments, her blade hit something solid, and dread curled in her stomach. She dropped to her knees, clawing at the loose earth with bare hands until the objects were free. Her breath hitched. Six trackers. All of them. Cold, useless, and buried like a mockery of her own paranoia. Eirianwen sat back on her heels, mud caking her fingers as she stared at the pile in her hands. Someone knew.
Her cheeks burned hot, but the rest of her body felt frozen. Tears welled, spilling silently down her face as the questions flooded in. Why? Why would Sullivan do this? Had he done this? He wouldn’t put the kids in danger—would he? Where were they? How long had he planned this? Her stomach twisted. Then, her phone buzzed—a single notification. Hands trembling, she wiped her palms on her pants and yanked it from her pocket. Wi-Fi restored—a new alert. Someone had just crossed the perimeter.
“It better be Sullivan and the kids.”
Eirianwen exhaled sharply, swiping at the sweat and tears streaking her face. Standing, she brushed the dirt from her clothes as best she could, shoving the useless trackers deep into her pocket. She locked her phone and steadied herself. If the kids were with Sullivan, she needed to stay calm. Normal. They couldn’t see the weapons strapped under her clothing. At least the incoming storm gave her an excuse to rush them inside. She’d get them safe first—then she’d deal with Sullivan. She turned toward the tree line, heart pounding in her throat. The property was massive, and she had built the house at its farthest edge. Finally, headlights cut through the gloom. A vehicle emerged. Not Sullivan’s truck. A cold, electric jolt shot down her spine. Every instinct screamed at her.
No one came out here. No one. She had made sure of it. For years, she had meticulously crafted the illusion of a perfectly ordinary life. She knew everyone in town—just enough to avoid suspicion, but never enough to invite curiosity. A delicate balance of friendly but distant. She never gave anyone a reason to visit. She didn’t even use their real address! She picked up all of their mail and deliveries in town. So who the hell thought they had the right to pull up to her house? The SUV slowed to a stop, tires crunching against the gravel. The doors swung open in near unison, and two men stepped out. Sheriff Ford. Deputy Pines. Ford adjusted his jacket, his gaze steady, unreadable. Pines lingered a step behind, eyes sharp, scanning. Ford closed the gap between them and gave Eirianwen a curt nod.
Author Bio:
Reign Reeves Pearson is a writer, storyteller, and chaos enthusiast based in Houston, where she lives with her husband, four kids, and three cats who may or may not be plotting world domination. She thrives on Kopiko, rainy days, and an endless love for Final Fantasy VII and Dungeons & Dragons.
She’s been writing for as long as she can remember. But in 2019, a health scare forced her to take a hard look at her life, and the answer was clear: writing wasn’t just something she did. It was what she was meant to do.
Her debut novel and series, Poseidon’s Daughters: Reckoning, is her first and only planned adventure into sci-fi. Going forward, expect Southern Gothic chills, cosmic nightmares, and nostalgic ‘90s horror—all infused with her signature mix of heart, humor, and a touch of the macabre.
When she’s not writing, she’s probably dreaming up elaborate D&D campaigns, getting emotionally wrecked by Final Fantasy VII (again), or staring dramatically out a window while it rains.
GIVEAWAY!
—
Feeding My Addiction…
**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.**
After having my biggest week of adding in quite a while last week I ended up topping that one this week with seven new titles to share this week. Hopefully this isn’t the beginning of a slide off the old wagon.
As always clicking the covers will take you to the book on Amazon!**
New additions from Netgalley Mar 23rd – Mar 30th
A touching novel about parenthood, first love, family bonds, and rekindled relationships from the New York Times bestselling author and beloved Nantucket storyteller Nancy Thayer.
Blythe Benedict is content. Her life didn’t end when her marriage did. In fact, she’s more than happy living in her comfortable house in Boston, working as a middle school teacher, and raising four wonderful children. With three of her kids in the throes of teenagerhood and one not too far behind them, Blythe has plenty of drama to keep her busy every single day.
But no amount of that drama could change the family’s beloved annual summer trip to Nantucket. Blythe has always treasured the months spent at her island home-away-from-home, and has fond memories of her children growing up there. But this summer’s getaway proves to be much more than she bargained for.
Yes, there are sunny days enjoyed at the beach. But Blythe must contend with teenage angst, her ex-mother-in-law’s declining health, and a troubling secret involving her ex-husband. Meanwhile, Blythe reconnects with her first love, her former high school sweetheart Aaden. But their second-time-around romance becomes complicated when another intriguing man enters the picture.
It’s all a bit out of Blythe’s comfort zone. This particular island summer may not be as relaxing as Blythe had hoped, but she’s never felt that life has given her more than she can handle—especially when she has the love and support of her family around her.
Beloved bestselling author Karen White returns with a captivating Southern drama about sisterhood, secrets and one woman’s reckoning with the past
As a child, Phoebe Manigault developed the gift of premonition after she was struck by lightning in the creek near her Charleston home. Plagued throughout her life by mysterious dreams, and always living in the shadow of her beautiful sister, Addie, Phoebe eventually moves to the West Coast, as far from her family as possible. Now, years later, she is summoned back to South Carolina, to help Addie care for their ailing mother.
As Phoebe’s return lures her back into deep-rooted tensions and conflicts, she is drawn to Celeste, whose granddaughter went missing years ago. Their connection brings comfort to Phoebe, while Celeste’s adult grandson Liam resurrects complicated emotions tied to Phoebe’s past.
But the longer Phoebe spends in her childhood home, the more her recurring nightmares intensify—bringing her closer to the shocking truth that will irrevocably change everything. Unfolding against the lush backdrop of the South Carolina Lowcountry, That Last Carolina Summer is an unforgettable story about the unbreakable bonds of family and the gift of second chances.
From New York Times bestselling author, Jeneva Rose, comes a fully updated and expanded edition of THE GIRL I WAS, the first book she ever wrote, featuring six brand-new chapters from a fresh point-of-view.
“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
Alexis Spencer will use any inspirational quote to rationalize her failures and shortcomings. Her closest friends are a distant memory, and her college debt is still as high as the day she left. But that’s all fine and dandy, because “whatever will be, will be.”
However, when Alexis loses her job and her relationship on the same day, there’s no quote strong enough to get her through that. In typical fashion, she blames the world for her problems, including her younger self, who should have tried harder.
Feeling sorry for herself, Alexis finds a bottle of vodka from her college days and goes on a bender, blacking out in the process. Only this time, she doesn’t wake up at home, or in the right city. In fact, she isn’t even in the right year.
Alexis is back in her college town in the year 2002.
Convinced this is her chance to do things over, she heads to her dorm—and comes face-to-face with her eighteen-year-old unruly self, who goes by Lexi because it’s “sexier.” Getting acclimated to life in the early 2000s is the easy part. Dealing with Lexi is where things prove difficult.
They might be the same person, but they couldn’t be more different from one another. Now Alexis and Lexi must learn to get along and come to terms with the fact that alone, they will never make things right, but together, they could change their life for the better.
Love is a dangerous game when your clients are killers…from the bestselling author behind Love Letters to a Serial Killer.
When Lexie’s fiancé runs off with her so-called best friend on her birthday, her carefully crafted fairy-tale life shatters. Having survived horrors in her past, she was determined to finally get her happily-ever-after—and she’s not giving up yet.
To distract herself, Lexie throws herself into her unusual job: matchmaking psychopaths (a specialty her clients are blissfully unaware of). But the loneliness is crushing. So when a gorgeous, overprotective new client named Aidan insists they’re soulmates, and another intriguing client, Rebecca, seems perfect to fill the best-friend-shaped hole in her life, Lexie can’t help but find the attention comforting—despite her own professional boundaries.
Then a human heart appears on Lexie’s doorstep. As more threatening packages arrive and her fiancé mysteriously disappears, she must confront a terrifying question: did she inadvertently match herself with a killer? Between Aidan’s claims that her fiancé will never return, Rebecca’s growing presence in her life, and her own dark past resurfacing, Lexie’s matchmaker instincts are being tested like never before.
Because someone is determined to ensure her story ends with a funeral.
A millionaire and a house cleaner are a match maid in heaven in this sparkling new romantic comedy by Lynn Painter, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Happily Never After.
As a professional cleaner, Abi Mariano never thought her apartment would have any sort of infestation, but because of a building-wide outbreak, she now needs somewhere to stay for a week. As a part-time student with two jobs, she doesn’t have many options. Then the solution presents itself: the owner of the penthouse she cleans is out of town for the week. She normally wouldn’t consider it, but he’s literally never around (she hasn’t even met him). It goes great…until one morning she finds two strangers in the kitchen. They’re the parents of the penthouse owner and they seem to think they’ve heard all about Abi—not as their son’s maid, but as his girlfriend.
Declan Powell has always put his career first, working his way up to become an executive at his company, but he still has his sights set on the next level. When his parents mention that they met his girlfriend, “Abby,” he all but chokes on his escargot. As wonderful as it sounds that she was just darling, he doesn’t actually have a girlfriend—he made her up to get everyone off his back. When Dex finds out who Abi really is, he makes her a proposition: pretend to date him, and he’ll provide everything she needs during their little arrangement. What harm would it do? It’s purely business, no pleasure…right?
A treasure hunter and the bestselling adventure novelist who broke her heart after one successful expedition reunite for a summer to search for lost riches.
Treasure hunter Stella Moore dreams of having it all—wealth, love, and a flourishing career—but knows she’ll never be that lucky. Every summer she and her childhood friends travel to search for hidden treasure, but she can barely manage her bills, let alone a relationship. Then, a chance encounter with alluring novelist Huck Sullivan during an expedition in Iceland has Stella thinking maybe her fortune has changed.
After his last book bombed, Huck hasn’t written a word. Joining Stella and her crew on an adventure seems like the perfect distraction from his problems, and when the crew finally uncovers hidden treasure, he is certain that he’s found more than just inspiration for his next novel. Huck and Stella’s undeniable connection gives way to an unforgettable night on a black sand beach.
After Huck disappears without a goodbye, Stella vows to put the heartbreak behind her—but that’s easier said than done when, a year later, every bookstore has a life-size cutout of her ex-lover next to stacks of his latest record-breaking bestseller. Good thing it’s time for another summer treasure hunt. Stella throws herself into mapping the path to a shipwreck off Key West, but the last thing she expects is an extra crew member showing up in search of material for a sequel and a second chance.
Stella and Huck are prepared for storms, sharks, sea sickness, even a tentative truce. But facing the feelings they buried and confronting the devastating truth about why Huck left is the only way to find what their hearts have been searching for all along.
Always each other’s plus-ones, but never each other’s real dates, two childhood best friends have one last summer wedding to fall in love in this dual-narrative debut.
Best friends Joni and Ren have been inseparable since childhood. So when Joni moves across the country for her job, the two devise a creative way to stay in touch: they’ll be each other’s plus-ones every year for wedding season, no matter what else is happening in their lives.
It’s a tradition that works, until a line is crossed and the friendship they once thought was forever is ruined.
Now Joni is back at their families’ shared summer home for her sister’s wedding, and she’s determined to make the week perfect, even if it means faking a friendship with Ren—and avoiding the truth of why they have to fake it in the first place. How hard can it be to pretend to be friends with the person who once knew you best?
But as sunny beach days together turn into starry nights, Joni begins to question what her life is without Ren in it. And when the wedding arrives, bringing past heartaches to the surface, she’ll be forced to decide if loving Ren means letting him go, or if theirs is a love story worth fighting for.
Touch of the Elegrian by Cheryl A. Arko 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.**
Touch of the Elegrian
Cheryl A. Arko
Publication date: March 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction
Prejudice. Legacy. Redemption.
Erys carries a secret that could shatter his world. The telepathic Elegrian has spent his life atoning for his dead father’s role in humanity’s disastrous first contact. Now, as a tech specialist for the Earth-led alliance, he serves in silence—until sabotage threatens the lives of dozens of human children. And the traitor is one of his own.
Forced to work with a brilliant but hostile human engineer, Erys must dismantle not only the deadly conspiracy but also the deep-seated mistrust between their peoples. With time running out, he faces an impossible choice: break the fragile Elegrian-Human treaty and invite the death penalty to forge a forbidden mind link with a human… or let innocent lives be lost.
Two worlds on the brink. A single act of defiance. Can compassion rewrite a doomed future?
The Elegrian Legacy begins here—a gripping sci-fi adventure rich in high-stakes dilemmas, deep character bonds, and first-contact intrigue.
—
EXCERPT
Far, far away to the east, in New York City, where magic and power and rumor swirled in their own urban galaxy, a very ancient and powerful creature lived in the highest tower money could buy. While many of his kind lived and worked in the greater New York area, coiled around the rise and fall of stocks and bonds in an endless dance of power and wealth, he was by far the oldest in that den of snakes. He was old enough that his thick fingers still dreamed of worn gold coins and his body of piles of treasure beneath his scales. Now, of course, he slept only on damask of the finest quality, spread over a memory foam mattress—nowhere near as comfortable as cold hard cash.
That night, he was window shopping, his hungry eye roving over page after page of the most exotic goods Sotheby’s online could offer.
If one lived long enough, even the most exquisite meals tasted like ashes on the tongue; breathe often enough, and even bottled air from Everest smelled stale and flat. He could hardly be bothered to hide his own nature when he was alone—the secret theater of the Council and its Compact had been a bit of a thrill for a while, but Mr. Drake—just Drake to his friends—was getting bored.
He yawned, and his long, forked tongue spilled out, unfurling and flicking against his human nose. No one was around to see it, so he wasn’t breaking the Law, and besides, he missed all
the parts of his true shape quite badly. Missed a herd of sheep’s eyes rolling in terror. Probably lamb again tonight, from that place on the other side of Broadway.
Mr. Drake’s lair took up the entire upper floor of his tall tower in the center of the city, wide rooms filled with the carcasses of kingdoms burned to the ground beneath his fearsome will. Company logos on banners from decades past, those battle standards of board members who had crumbled and fallen to their knees in merger upon acquisition upon merger. Darwin had certainly been on the money about the adaptation of species. In the face of adversity, Drake and the rest of his kind had thrived, but—
But he wanted to spread his wings high above his head, soar over the crescent moon, sweep down on farmland and gout flame from his throat; the glorious crescendo of a sun going supernova. Instead, he stoked another cigar, the smoke curling from his nose a pacifying reminder of who he had to be now.
His cellphone lit up, vibrating on the long cocobolo desk. Drake looked down at it with a grimace and tapped the screen with one stubby finger.
“Drake,” he said. “How do you have this number?”
“I have my ways, Old One.”
He was in the middle of pouring himself another whiskey, ready to tear this joker a new set of holes, when he recognized the voice and sighed.
“Old One, is it? When was your sweet sixteen, Morgan?”
“Oh well, you know me,” The Hollow Woman sounded far too cheery for his tastes. “Evergreen.”
Drake snorted.
“Isn’t it still daylight on your side of the world? Why don’t you go out and catch some rays, you old hag? Go get a tan. Would be good for the both of us.”
“Have it your way,” Morgan said sweetly. “Don’t trouble yourself with little old me, then.”
“I won’t,” he snarled, and hung up. Smoke was starting to waft down from the high ceilings, having pooled there in those short minutes on the phone. The AC here was top notch, of course, the best AC in the city, but nothing manmade could keep up with his kind’s distemper. He flipped through a few more pages on Sotheby’s, but quickly, rapidly stabbing his finger on the mouse. He tried to hum something to himself, and his phone buzzed again.
“All right. This is getting old pretty fast,” he said. “Spit it out already and go away. What do you want?”
“Want? Oh, darling Drake, not a thing. Not a single thing.”
He laughed, a deep rumble like an earthquake, the magma pushing up beneath the surface.
“Wanting is what you’re for, Morgan. Maybe you forgot?”
“Well, now. Maybe you’re not interested.” She was almost purring. Purring! “I’m sure one of your brothers will be.” And she hung up on him.
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit, he thought. The haze of smoke had curled down just above the surface of his cocobolo desk. If he wasn’t careful, he would trigger the alarms on the floor below again. He took a breath. He took another. I am a calm blue ocean, he thought to himself. I can be one with my feelings.
Author Bio:
CHERYL ARKO is a science fiction author and an accomplished senior data scientist with a long career in IT and medical data analysis. She has loved reading science fiction ever since
she could connect letters into words, devouring everything from Andre Norton to E.E. “Doc” Smith to more and more authors through the years who have shared their thought-provoking ideas of imagined places and alternate realities.
TOUCH OF THE ELEGRIAN is Cheryl’s debut novel and was a Killer Nashville Claymore Award Finalist for best Science Fiction/Fantasy. She writes stories that take her to the stars, imagining who we might find out there, inviting readers to come along for the ride to visit new worlds and their people. To explore what makes us different—and what makes us the same. And to discover the inherent good that exists in the universe to balance against darkness, no matter how far we travel.
A seasoned dog trainer, Cheryl lives with her beloved Airedales in a tiny house nestled within thirty acres of serene Minnesota pine trees.
GIVEAWAY!
—
Rare by Patrick de Moss 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.**
Rare
Patrick de Moss
Publication date: March 1st 2025
Genres: Adult, Fantasy
Some songs aren’t meant to exist.
When sixteen-year-old Emma receives a mysterious Beatles record—a cover of The Girl Can’t Help It, a song they never recorded, her life changes in ways she never imagined. Grieving her grandmother’s death and lost in the heavy fog of depression, Emma doesn’t expect much from the strange package. But the moment the needle drops, magic ripples through the world.
Angels shiver. Dragons stir in their hoards. Vampires feel an ancient hunger awaken. The song calls to them all, and it calls to Emma too. For the first time since her grandmother’s death, Emma feels something spark inside her: hope. But magic has a price, and the Dark has heard the song as well.
To protect the record, Emma must venture into the Hidden States of America—a surreal, shadowed version of the country where myth and reality blur. It’s a country shaped by the stories we tell and the secrets we keep, where ordinary towns hide extraordinary truths.
As Emma struggles to carry the song to where it belongs, she’ll have to confront her grief, face her deepest fears, and discover if she has the strength to resist the pull of the Dark.
From Patrick de Moss, the acclaimed author of Kings of Nowhere, comes a darkly magical tale of loss, courage, and the power of music to heal even the deepest wounds. This is a story that explores the fragile beauty of hope and the strength it takes to face the shadows.
Rare is a spellbinding modern fable. Every note of the song of this story echoes with both wonder and danger. Some songs can change the world. Some songs can change you.
—
EXCERPT
Far, far away to the east, in New York City, where magic and power and rumor swirled in their own urban galaxy, a very ancient and powerful creature lived in the highest tower money could buy. While many of his kind lived and worked in the greater New York area, coiled around the rise and fall of stocks and bonds in an endless dance of power and wealth, he was by far the oldest in that den of snakes. He was old enough that his thick fingers still dreamed of worn gold coins and his body of piles of treasure beneath his scales. Now, of course, he slept only on damask of the finest quality, spread over a memory foam mattress—nowhere near as comfortable as cold hard cash.
That night, he was window shopping, his hungry eye roving over page after page of the most exotic goods Sotheby’s online could offer.
If one lived long enough, even the most exquisite meals tasted like ashes on the tongue; breathe often enough, and even bottled air from Everest smelled stale and flat. He could hardly be bothered to hide his own nature when he was alone—the secret theater of the Council and its Compact had been a bit of a thrill for a while, but Mr. Drake—just Drake to his friends—was getting bored.
He yawned, and his long, forked tongue spilled out, unfurling and flicking against his human nose. No one was around to see it, so he wasn’t breaking the Law, and besides, he missed all the parts of his true shape quite badly. Missed a herd of sheep’s eyes rolling in terror. Probably lamb again tonight, from that place on the other side of Broadway.
Mr. Drake’s lair took up the entire upper floor of his tall tower in the center of the city, wide rooms filled with the carcasses of kingdoms burned to the ground beneath his fearsome will. Company logos on banners from decades past, those battle standards of board members who had crumbled and fallen to their knees in merger upon acquisition upon merger. Darwin had certainly been on the money about the adaptation of species. In the face of adversity, Drake and the rest of his kind had thrived, but—
But he wanted to spread his wings high above his head, soar over the crescent moon, sweep down on farmland and gout flame from his throat; the glorious crescendo of a sun going supernova. Instead, he stoked another cigar, the smoke curling from his nose a pacifying reminder of who he had to be now.
His cellphone lit up, vibrating on the long cocobolo desk. Drake looked down at it with a grimace and tapped the screen with one stubby finger.
“Drake,” he said. “How do you have this number?”
“I have my ways, Old One.”
He was in the middle of pouring himself another whiskey, ready to tear this joker a new set of holes, when he recognized the voice and sighed.
“Old One, is it? When was your sweet sixteen, Morgan?”
“Oh well, you know me,” The Hollow Woman sounded far too cheery for his tastes. “Evergreen.”
Drake snorted.
“Isn’t it still daylight on your side of the world? Why don’t you go out and catch some rays, you old hag? Go get a tan. Would be good for the both of us.”
“Have it your way,” Morgan said sweetly. “Don’t trouble yourself with little old me, then.”
“I won’t,” he snarled, and hung up. Smoke was starting to waft down from the high ceilings, having pooled there in those short minutes on the phone. The AC here was top notch, of course, the best AC in the city, but nothing manmade could keep up with his kind’s distemper. He flipped through a few more pages on Sotheby’s, but quickly, rapidly stabbing his finger on the mouse. He tried to hum something to himself, and his phone buzzed again.
“All right. This is getting old pretty fast,” he said. “Spit it out already and go away. What do you want?”
“Want? Oh, darling Drake, not a thing. Not a single thing.”
He laughed, a deep rumble like an earthquake, the magma pushing up beneath the surface.
“Wanting is what you’re for, Morgan. Maybe you forgot?”
“Well, now. Maybe you’re not interested.” She was almost purring. Purring! “I’m sure one of your brothers will be.” And she hung up on him.
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit, he thought. The haze of smoke had curled down just above the surface of his cocobolo desk. If he wasn’t careful, he would trigger the alarms on the floor below again. He took a breath. He took another. I am a calm blue ocean, he thought to himself. I can be one with my feelings.
Author Bio:
Playwright, poet, prose writer, as well as former gravedigger, hotline psychic, line cook, chef, waiter and a few other things in between, Patrick de Moss lives and works in St. John’s, Newfoundland.
GIVEAWAY!
—
Pity Play by Whitney Dineen 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.**
Pity Play
Whitney Dineen
(Pity Series, #6)
Publication date: March 23rd 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
I’ve loved my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember. Newsflash, he doesn’t see me that way. But now that Luke Phillips is coming to town and needs a place to stay… could this be my big chance?
It’s not like I’ve sat around for the last twenty-eight years waiting for Luke. Not really. But ever since I moved back to Elk Lake, I can’t help but hope I’ll run into him. Enter my big brother calling and asking if his bestie can bunk with me. My younger self is doing backflips at the possibilities.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like Luke is looking for a long-term situation. He’s made it clear he’s got some business to take care of and then he’s on the first train back to Chicago.
But then he kisses me. And everything changes.
At least, I hope it has…
Pity Play is a brother’s best friend, close proximity, small town rom-com that takes place in the resort town of Elk Lake, Wisconsin. This is the sixth book in a series that read as standalones.
—
EXCERPT
After climbing the stairs, I open the door to my room, and I’m immediately filled with the comforting familiarity of my early years. I’ve thought about redecorating now that I’m an adult but being that I spend as much time living in my parents ’room—when they’re in Florida—as I do here, I haven’t quite pulled the trigger. Also, I’m twenty-eight, and even though I tell Noah there’s nothing wrong with me still living at home, I have started to wonder how much longer I’ll be here.
Once again, I let my feather duster take flight and when it gets to the posters, I perform a ritual from my teenage years. I swipe it across Mel B’s face and sing, “I tell you what I want, Luke Phillips. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna go out on a date with you!”
I’m so busy jamming around my room that I jump when the doorbell rings. It can’t even be eight o’clock so I have no idea who it is. I know it’s not Luke because he won’t be here until ten. That leaves old Mrs. Bing from next door.
My bluish-haired neighbor isn’t generally a bother, but ever since her husband went into the nursing home, she regularly stops by when she needs a jar opened or a spider killed. One time she told me that our weeds were growing out of control and kindly offered to send her gardener
over. I let her do that once but then she hit me with a bill for a hundred and fifty dollars. Now we all just live with the weeds.
I run down the stairs with the Spice Girls still ringing in my head, and apparently out of my mouth because as I swing open the door, I practically shout, “If you wannabe my lover …” And that’s when I realize Mrs. Bing isn’t my guest.
All six-foot two inches of Luke Phillips is standing in front of me, and man, does he look good. It’s March in Wisconsin so he’s dressed for winter in a bomber jacket and wool scarf. Nicely fitted jeans showcase every gorgeous inch of his long legs.
I know I should say something to him, but my mouth pools with so much saliva that if I don’t swallow it soon, I’m liable to drool on the man. Swallow your spit, girl.
Once I manage that monumental, and embarrassingly audible, task, I blurt out, “Hey … Hello … Hi there!” Oh yeah, I’m a real orator.
“Hi.” Luke’s beanie-covered head tips to the side. His gorgeous brown eyes narrow like he’s inspecting a moldy piece of cheese. “I’m looking for Lorelai Riley.”
This is my chance to tell him she’s not here and that he should come back at ten when he was supposed to arrive, but my synapses aren’t firing. That must be why I throw my arms into the air and practically shout at him, “I’m Lorelai!”
Luke takes a step backward like he’s going to make a run for it. Instead of fleeing, he moves his gaze from the top of my purple bandana all the way to my bare feet. This of course means he’s aware I’m wearing a pink flowered flannel nightgown from Lanz of Salsburg. A favorite with grannies everywhere.
“Hi,” he repeats. Yet he makes no move toward the door. In fact, there’s no movement at all. It’s like he’s turned into a marble statue. He even stays put after I step back and gesture for him to come in.
Well, this is awkward. I start stammering, “I didn’t expect you until ten. I mean, that’s when Noah said you were coming so that’s why I’m not dressed.” He looks borderline terrified, so I hurry to add, “I was cleaning. Getting ready for you.”
He lifts his foot like he’s going to take a step forward, but the action is so slow it’s like he’s trying to push his way through a wall of frozen molasses. “I can find a hotel or something …”
“What? No! Come on in! You’re staying here!” The image of Kathy Bates from that old movie Misery pops into my mind. From the look on Luke’s face, he’s thinking something similar. I want to assure him that I won’t hobble him, chain him to the bed, and keep him as a hostage, but I think that might scare him more.
Author Bio:
Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.
Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.
She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.
Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.
Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.
Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.
Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.
Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017
Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017
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