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#stinewriting Book Blitz! New Books! R&R Book Tours

New Book: To Steal the Sun (Adult Fantasy/ Heist Fantasy/ POC/ LGBTQ2+ Representation)

Welcome to the official release of To Steal the Sun by S.M. Carter! Read on for details and grab yourself a copy of the book!

To Steal the Sun

Publication Date: October 11th, 2022

Genre: Adult Fantasy/ Heist Fantasy/ POC/ LGBTQ2+ Representation

3 DANGEROUS rogues. 2 nations at WAR. 1 IMPOSSIBLE heist. Ocean’s 11 meets Game of Thrones. From one of the creators of WARFRAME!

THE KICKSTARTER SENSATION THAT WAS OVER 700% FUNDED.

When Raik, the most cunning smuggler this side of the desert, finds where the Ivory King vaults his magical runes—he builds a crew to execute an elaborate heist.

Among them is Kahli Mahanta, a religious assassin with blind ambition. A young rogue, Kirin, with wit sharper than his arrows ought to be. And Amara, the so-called Nightspirit, whose raven-hair conceals even darker secrets.

It won’t be easy. They’re opposed by the curved blades of the magic-deranged, watched by a paranoid king, and hunted by gaunt beasts that click in the cold desert night… All the while discovering that trusting each other might be the most dangerous mission of all.

To Steal The Sun is a tale of unlikely heroes thrust together in a new refreshing fantasy. One cast in vibrant silks, fragrant spice, and the relentless glare of a radiant sun.

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Kahli

As the sun bled out and shadows struggled to find their final depth, Kahli knocked on the door of a humble home. The clay building, like most in the northwestern city of Jharwada, seemed a crude shell to Kahli, having trained and prayed in the tent structures of the south.

From inside, a woman called out in a timid voice. “Hello?”

According to Kahli’s orders, this was a soft walk—innocents were not to be killed in the service of the Divine’s will. And so, Kahli Mahanta, Auxiliary Hand of the Divine, knocked louder.

The worn grey curtain covering the home’s only window slid open, revealing a lanky woman draped in a dark cotton servant’s wrap. She stared with sunken eyes. She looked twice Kahli’s age, but they were of similar height—which was crucial to the plan.

Kahli leaned out of the shadows, revealing the unveiled half of her face. She hoped it allowed the woman enough of a glance at her golden-brown skin and blond hair to mistake her for a newly arrived Tireenian servant. Kahli presented her left palm in a gesture of respect between equals and imitated a reassuring smile that touched her eyes above the veil.

The locks clicked open, and Kahli’s expression became genuine. A strong shoulder could splinter a doorframe well enough, but a smile did the Divine’s work in silence.

The woman opened the door, eyes wide. Kahli, not one to leave curiosity unsatisfied, stepped forward and struck the woman in the throat. The woman clutched her neck and gave a strangled cough as she collapsed back into her home. Kahli slipped in, a ghost in the night, closing the door and turning the locks.

Tears streamed from the servant’s eyes as she knelt on a fraying embroidered rug in the candlelit foyer of her home. She wheezed for air and tried to regain her footing.

Kahli adjusted her black veil, making sure its silk edges hid the scars covering the left side of her face.

“Sister, if y-you wish to meet the Divine, k-keep struggling,” Kahli said. She allowed a heartbeat for the threat to sink in, to let the servant understand her words through her accursed stutter.

“If, instead, y-you wish to endure the suffering of the living, c-close your mouth and remove your clothes.”

The woman obeyed.

***

An hour later, Kahli walked into the palatial residence of the high satrap of Jharwada, draped in the servant’s sarong. The disguise fit lengthwise, but her athletic build made it tight around her thighs and shoulders. Kahli took in shallow breaths and shortened her stride to compensate.

Skirting along the massive foyer, she tilted her head toward the shadows and moved to the wooden staircase at its far end. The room was remarkable compared to the plain design of every other structure in the city. Hanging vines covered the walls, and twisting trees wound up the stone columns. It was a strange mating of granite sculpture and plant life she’d seen only in the overgrown jungle ruins of Tireen.

At regular intervals throughout the room, candelabras burned saffron-scented wax. But the main illumination was moonlight, which stabbed through the glass-domed ceilings, highlighting the occupants within. In the center of the room, two veiled women in silk twirled in a traditional Jaru dance, accompanied by a plucked sarod and wavering flute. Men and women in lavish purples, yellows, and burgundies lounged on couches, watching the performance and sipping palm wine.

Kahli restrained a sneer. Divine-damned fools. Unfocused and soft. Pretending to appreciate the old religion’s art only to gain the favor of their high satrap, who was rumored to be a connoisseur of Jaru traditions.

Kahli’s life was pledged to the Kithkarnin Order. A pledge that changed after her scars and demotion, after Hayanna and the trial. But a pledge that remained strong. The Book of Kith said: A dedicated mind is the calm sea on which the Divine sails.

Keeping to the shadows and moving with light, brisk steps, Kahli reached the wooden staircase with its base so entwined in roots, it appeared to grow from the floor. The frame creaked as she ascended two steps at a time. The high satrap resided at the top. The letter from the First had been succinct and clear:

The High Satrap of Jharwada has fallen from the Ivory King’s graces. By his holy decree, she shall be ushered on a soft walk.

Her locket should be collected as an item of memorial.

This letter, from the highest-ranked assassin in the world, was a gift from the Divine.

Never had any Kithkarnin ranked outside the group of Primary Hands been given a target of the satrap’s importance. All Kahli wanted since her scarring and demotion, all she prayed for, was a chance to rise in the ranks.

And this was it.

Purchase a copy of To Steal the Sun Here!

About the Author

S.M. CARTER is an author and game developer.

As an author he has contributed to multiple comic anthologies and writes the ongoing graphic novel, AARDEHN, with artist Eric Vedder. As a game developer, he is credited as creative director of THE DARKNESS 2, and is one of the creators of the smash-hit game WARFRAME.
He lives in London, Ontario, Canada with his wife and two children.
He once caught a fly with chopsticks.

S.M. Carter

Twitter: @SheldonCarter @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #BookBlitz

IG: @s.m.carter_writer @rrbooktours #rrbooktours #tostealthesun #publicationday #fantasybooks

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New Book: Division X (Supernatural Horror/ Lycanthropes)

Welcome to the cover reveal for August Hill’s novel, Division X! The perfect book to add to your October TBR!

Expected Publication Date: October 20th, 2022

Genre: Supernatural Horror/ Lycanthropes

Publisher: Brother Mockingbird

TW: 80’s slasher gore in chapter one.

Twenty-four years old, no job, and kicked out by her parents, Randi Matheson is living at her aunt and uncle’s trying her hardest to complete a novel she can’t seem to start when a carnivorous monster interrupts her middling life on a full moon night. Attacked during an ordinary family dinner, Randi’s relatives are murdered, and she is bitten by the beast. Surviving the slaughter, Randi returns home to her distressed family only to become a monster herself under the next full moon. Nearly devouring her younger brother, she is stopped by the intervention of Division X, a company devoted to the killing and capture of paranormal threats. She awakens in a containment cell the next morning to be given an ultimatum… work for them as a new weapon in the fight against evil or be dissected. A cure to her lycanthropy is promised along the way, and with real motivation to stay alive, Randi pushes herself to the brink to return to her normal life. Small town horrors lie in wait with even smaller heroes to stand against them. Can Randi save them and herself, or will everything crumble to the wills of evil?

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I’m not me when I kill people. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I wake up, and I know I’ve done something horrible. My hands are covered in blood, my clothes are gone, and my stomach feels full. I don’t remember what I did. All I remember is the pain. It’s impossible to forget.

It starts with the fur. It spreads like fire, melting me. My bones go next, shifting, changing, breaking. I always cry, always scream, but I can live with the pain. I can’t live with what comes next. Something takes control and pushes me into the dark. I sleep a dreamless sleep, and when I wake up, the nightmare begins.

I don’t know them, the people I’ve killed, the ones I’ve eaten. But I do know they weren’t all bad. I live with the pain because I deserve it.

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About the Author

After receiving an education at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst, August Hill started writing Division X, a supernatural horror filled with dark humor, adventure, and sinister creatures that leap off the pages.

His love for all things spooky and scary was unleashed when he discovered Jurassic Park at four years old and the R. L. Stine Goosebumps collection in elementary school. He holds a huge appreciation for 80’s horror and is partial to fun, dark, and witty ensemble casting with younger heroes. Some of his favorite influences include The Lost Boys, Aliens, Gremlins, and An American Werewolf in London to name a few.

Hill’s knack for writing fiction emerged at an early age when he wrote stories for his own enjoyment. He is a collector of horror films and is a board game enthusiast. When not writing, he can be found walking trails with his dog, enjoying movie nights with friends, spending time playing video games, and camping in Maine.

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New Book: The Abdication (Fantasy/ Supernatural)

Welcome to the book tour for fantasy novel The Abdication by Justin Newland! Read on for more info and enter the giveaway at the end! You could win a signed copy!

The Abdication 

Publication Date: July 4th, 2021

Genre: Fantasy/ Supernatural

Publisher: Matador

The town of Unity sits perched on the edge of a yawning ravine where, long ago, a charisma of angels provided spiritual succour to a fledgeling human race. Then mankind was granted the gift of free will and had to find its own way, albeit with the guidance of the angels. The people’s first conscious act was to make an exodus from Unity. They built a rope bridge across the ravine and founded the town of Topeth. For a time, the union between the people of Topeth and the angels of Unity was one of mutual benefit. After that early spring advance, there had been a torrid decline in which mankind’s development resembled a crumpled, fading autumnal leaf.

Following the promptings of an inner voice, Tula, a young woman from the city, trudges into Topeth. Her quest is to abide with the angels and thereby discover the right and proper exercise of free will. To do that, she has to cross the bridge – and overcome her vertigo. Topeth is in upheaval; the townsfolk blame the death of a child on dust from the nearby copper mines. The priests have convinced them that a horde of devils have thrown the angels out of Unity and now occupy the bridge, possessing anyone who trespasses on it. Then there’s the heinous Temple of Moloch!

The Abdication is the story of Tula’s endeavour to step upon the path of a destiny far greater than she could ever have imagined.

Excerpt

The Missing Daughter (Chapter 3)

Tula followed Musa until he stopped at the entrance to an alley by the side of the market square. The rioters had dispersed. A man was lighting the wicker lanterns on cradles perched around the square, bringing light to the darkness and hope to despair. Near the Bell Tower, another man was handing out spades and brooms from the back of a donkey cart.

“Now, Miss,” Musa said. “I got to go find Rufus and then get to my post. But before that, I want to see you’re safe and well tonight.”

On her journey here, she had slept in many towns. In the absence of a deserted house, a stable or a barn, she would slide into a deserted soldier’s hut or, as a last resort, sleep curled up in a shop front. Tonight, she feared exposure in such a lawless, desperate place.

Warmed by his offer of help, she replied, “Thank you, Musa. I don’t have much money. Where can I stay tonight?”

“I wish I could help, Miss, I really do,” he said. “’Cos of the riot, all us guards got a double shift. And you shouldn’t be out at night, no, that’s not right at all, not a pretty, young girl like you.”

She blushed deeply and, to hide it, pretended to look for something in her knapsack.

“But look, you could try the Miners’ Inn. It’s cheap. It fits the bill. It’s just down here,” he added, pointing to the alley.

“Oh, Musa. Thank you so much. I’ll not forget your kindness.”

“I hope to see you again soon and now I’ll be takin’ my leave.”

“Until the next time,” she murmured.

“Oh, I’m already lookin’ forward to it. Keep safe out there, Miss Tula,” he said with a beguiling wink and marched off across the market square. She was impressed; he had even remembered her name.

The crows’ evening squawks seemed louder and their cries eerier than before. From around the corner, she caught the whiff of a vagabond. Another shuffled by her, his eyes shifty, his back hunched, his clothes tattered. She was a stranger in their eyes, as they were in hers. At the far end of the square, two guards were rounding up the strays.

Her quest to meet the angels in Unity had brought her this far and she was not going to abandon it. She refused to believe the prevailing dogma about the bridge devils. Despite that, Jevros’s death had chilled her to the bone. As had the shocking news that he had carried his dead child to his grave.

Tula was so near and yet so far from realising her dream. She shoved her hands in her pockets and found the bridge key. She had forgotten it was there. So, even at this late hour, she could sneak down the snake path, unlock the gate and skip over the bridge. She quivered at the prospect of passing the lowest point in the bridge arc from where Jevros had launched himself into the skies. Or had something launched him? Whatever had despatched Jevros might be waiting for her, lurking in the gloom, marauding amidst an airy expanse of nothing.

And Geb had said it was the doctor’s key. A dead man’s key. She banished that line of thought. Intending to return the key in the morning, she put it back in her pocket. Until she could cross the bridge – safely and preferably in daylight – she would stay in Topeth.

Stalking the market square was a sense of doom that chilled her to the bone. Her breathing was laboured, and the plaintive cries of the rioters resounded in her ears. The air was shot with the smell of vegetable matter thrown by the rioters. Some workers were sweeping up shards of glass and stones. Another group struggled by the light of a lantern to board up the broken windows. Guards cleaned up the rotten vegetables, cursing at the stench.

To one side of the square, a beacon was swinging in the late evening breeze, casting a gloom between the narrow walls of the alley. That was where Musa had pointed. She poked her nose down the alley. Goosebumps rose on her arms. Up ahead, two people flitted between the shadows. With her back to the wall, she edged through the darkness, trying to keep out of their sight. She had to be careful because her knapsack and swollen ankle would prevent a quick escape.

Two young men were shouting at another young man, who was cowering in the shadowy corner of a shop entrance.

“Stupid dolt, you’re the thickest boy in Topeth,” one of the young men cried, shaking his fist at the cornered lad, who hid his face behind his hands.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she confronted them.

“Hey, you lads! What do you think you’re doing?” She puffed out her chest. Or at least what little there was of it.

The two lurched at her. She backed against the alley wall. Nowhere else to go. No one around. Her heart thumped inside her chest. When she needed protection, where was Musa?

“Yeah? Who’s askin’?” one snarled.

“I am.” She mustered every shred of defiance.

“What you gonna do about it, little cub?” said the other. He was the same young man who had led the mob in the market square.

Despite trembling legs, she forced herself to stand tall. “Leave him alone.”

“What we gonna do with ’er, Taurus?” the first one asked.

Taurus snapped at his friend, “Shut it, will you? Now she knows me name.”

Her throat dried and her palms moistened. On her journey, she had encountered some awkward moments, but none as threatening as this.

“Get on with you!” she yelled.

They both stood stock still, mouths open.

She had them on the run. “I mean it,” she added, brandishing her walking stick.

“Oh, watch out, she’s got… a walking stick,” Taurus said. He sniggered, chuckled, and then doubled over, howling with laughter.

She hissed with fury and was about to give him a wallop when, opposite them, a door flung open, spilling a tranche of light into the alley. A group of men lurched out of an inn, howling, punching the air, singing a bawdy melody. Taurus and his mate were as surprised as she was. With their false courage punctured, the two of them ran off into the gathering dusk.

Turning the air blue with their song, the men lumbered down the alley, barely giving her, or the young men, a second glance. For probably the only time in her life, she mouthed a prayer of thanks to an unruly bunch of drunks.

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About the Author

Justin Newland is an author of historical fantasy and secret history thrillers – that’s history with a supernatural twist. His stories feature known events and real people from history which are re-told and examined through the lens of the supernatural. He gives author talks and is a regular contributor to BBC Radio Bristol’s Thought for the Day. He lives with his partner in plain sight of the Mendip Hills in Somerset, England.

Justin Newland

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New Book: Dreams of Song Times ( Sapphic Fantasy/Mermaids)

Welcome to the book tour for Dreams of Song Times by Amy L. Bernstein. Read on for more info and a great giveaway to enter!

 dreams_of_song_times–book_trailer (1080p).mp4

Dreams of Song Times

Expected Publication Date: September 23, 2022

Genre: Sapphic Fantasy/ Mermaids

When sixteen-year-old Ell Gossamer’s two mothers mysteriously disappear, the teen human-mermaid hybrid quickly flees home with little more than a mysterious family keepsake, a book called “Dreams of Song Times.” Ell will learn astonishing secrets about her past—but only after endangering her life to save others. Standalone fantasy/LGBTQ+ fiction. 

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I sped away on Zif, imagining Angel watching until I was out of sight. I did not get far, however, before my body started shaking uncontrollably, Zif began weaving over the center line, and my vision blurred. I had to stop. Trembling, my breath coming in shallow gasps, I cut the engine and rolled Zif into a patch of woods that I hoped would shield me from the road.

In the gray light of a cold dawn, I sat down on wet leaves, drew up my knees, and hugged myself as tightly as I could. The shaking grew worse. I felt the oxygen mask clamped on my face, reliving every moment of paralysis that put me right on the line between life and death.

I vomited onto the forest floor, then closed my eyes and tried to regulate my breathing. I saw myself hovering above my body splayed on the bed in the shack, unable to move, utterly helpless. The urge to lie down on the cold ground and fall sleep nearly overtook me, as shock worked me over. Though seated, I felt my body begin to sway.

I could have died.

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About the Author

Amy L. Bernstein writes for the page, the stage, and forms in between. Her literary preoccupations include rooting for the underdog and putting ordinary people in difficult situations to see how they wriggle out. Amy is an award-winning journalist and speechwriter as well as a playwright. When she’s not glued to her computer, she loves listening to jazz and classical music, drinking wine with friends, and prowling around Baltimore’s glorious waterfront.

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Amy L. Bernstein

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New Book: Grave Intervention (Paranormal/ Medical Thriller/ Suspense)

Welcome to the book tour for the latest thriller by Shira Shiloah! Read on for more details and a chance to win either a paperback edition of the book (US) or a digital edition (International)!

Grave Intervention

Expected Publication Date: September 20, 2022

Genre: Paranormal/ Medical Thriller/ Suspense

Dr. Amir Hadad, a successful radiologist, hears an intruder. Hiding in the dark, the stranger whispers, “I can’t rest.”

Alarmed and unwilling to risk his family’s safety, Amir contacts the police. Only there is no trace of an intruder, no marks of forced entry. If there is a stalker afoot, the police cannot find him.

As the days wear on and Amir continues to hear the same disembodied voice speaking to him, he worries about his sanity. The Irish lilt has escalated from pleas for help to threats unless Amir helps the voice find rest – and revenge.

Inspired by true events set in Naperville, Illinois, Dr. Shira Shiloah takes readers through suspenseful twists and turns in her latest novel. GRAVE INTERVENTION, a paranormal medical suspense, blurs the lines between real and imaginary to expose the hidden side of a historical suburban town.

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Excerpt

Camille remained on the couch, her expression sad. He could tell she’d been crying and saw the episode “Death of a Goldfish” was streaming. He thought her grief would’ve let up by now; two-and-a-half years in, the depression showed no sign of leaving. He wished she’d see a therapist. He’d broach the topic again with Viva; maybe she’d listen to her sister.

“Let’s get Mommy,” he whispered into Sami’s ear, and she squealed with delight. He put Sami on his shoulders and said, “One, two, three… attack the Mommy… here we come.” He walked behind the couch and bent at his waist so both he and Sami could hug Camille. “Give Mommy kisses. So many kisses.”

Camille reached for them, pulling them into an embrace with each arm, and taking Sami onto her lap. “Cuddle puddle,” she said. She kissed them both. “How was your day?”

Yer lady’s a grand feen.

The voice. He heard the words clearly. He surveyed the room and saw the front door was closed; no one was there but the three of them. He turned behind him and glanced at the hallway leading from the garage into the foyer.

“Did you hear that?” Amir whispered.
“Hear what? You’re scaring me.”
Jaysus, her legs. You lucky bastard.
“Take Sami now. Get in the car.” He went to the kitchen,

grabbed his phone and a carving knife from the drawer. “Go.” Camille gathered their coats from the laundry room, set Sami on the washing machine and put shoes on her. “Come

with me, Sami. Daddy wants us to take a drive.” Camille carried her and Sami dropped her doll while reaching for her father.

“Daddy, come.”

“I’ll be right there, baby. I have to get dressed. Go with Mommy.” He watched from the garage entrance as Camille strapped Sami into her rear facing car seat in the back of the Tesla SUV. She held her palms up to him.

“Where am I going?”

“Go to Malnati’s, order for us. I’ll be right there.” He closed the garage door after they drove away, and went inside. He walked from the kitchen to the den. Sami’s toys and dolls were scattered on the carpet. Another episode of Mister Rogers’ had started. He turned off the television. The room had turned colder. Amir checked the front windows, all were sealed. He shivered.

Yer lady’s grand.

“Come out where I can see you, you psychopath. Who’s there?” Amir dialed 911 on his phone. “Police. I have an intruder.” He put on jeans and a sweater, grabbed his coat and wallet, and went out the front door holding the carving knife.

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About the Author

Dr. Shira Shiloah is an anesthesiologist and author of the debut thriller, Emergence, that details Dr. D.K. Webb, a neurosurgeon who intentionally maims and kills his patients in Memphis, Tennessee. Dr. Shiloah bring both a personal and professional perspective for what may happen when a sociopath holds a scalpel.

Shira Shiloah MD | Twitter | Instagram

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New Book: Crescent Moon Crossing (Thriller)

Welcome to the book tour for Crescent Moon Crossing by Sandy Wright. Read on for more!

Crescent Moon Crossing

Publication Date: August 22nd, 2022

Genre: Thriller

Staff Sgt. Jace Merrick’s two short-term goals: Join the Army Intelligence Unit, and kill his wife.

When his bleeding-heart spouse, Abby, begins volunteering at Hope House, a group that leaves supplies in the Arizona desert for illegals crossing the border, he hatches a plan to make her murder look like a coyote smuggling gone wrong.
But before he can carry out his plan, Abby is murdered—and he’s the prime suspect.

Rumor Vargas is first on the witness list of Deputy Sheriff Cooper “Coop” Jones who’s investigating her friend’s murder. Rumor finds his methodical mind attractive and she’s curious about his battle-weary eyes. But when he turns that inquiring mind on her big brother as a prime suspect, Rumor has a reason besides attraction to keep Coop close.

The Sheriff suspects Alberto Vargas has Cartel ties, and this certainly looks like the Sinoloan gang’s work. On the other hand, Abby’s husband—and his lover–have their own motives for murder.

The further Coop digs into the case, the less the facts add up for any of his known suspects.
Someone has a grudge against Jace Merrick. A life and death grudge. And it’s time for pay back.

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Excerpt

Staff Sergeant Jace Merrick was still enjoying the limp-limbed afterglow of his third orgasm when his lover flipped back the covers and stood up. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” He stretched like a contented cat and scratched the line of blonde hair running from his chest to navel, remembering his lover’s lips following that path an hour earlier.

“Rise and shine soldier.” First Lieutenant Kendra Clark’s bare feet slapped the cheap linoleum in the motel bathroom. “We report at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow. Lots of loose ends to tie up before then.”

Jace rolled onto his back and listened to the clank and whoosh of the shower. One more day until he began training for his new assignment, and the seventeen-week base restriction that came with it. Although he would miss the daily sex, this transfer to Fort Huachuca was the culmination of a dream he’d been working toward for years. Military Intelligence. Pretty damned good for a guy who’d lost his ROTC scholarship and come up the hard way, straight leg infantry, 11-Bravo.

He left the bed and stepped into the steamy shower behind Kendra, slipping his arms around her bare waist. 

She glanced over one sleek shoulder. “Miss me already?”

“What can I say?” He lathered her arms, working his way down to run a soapy finger in slow circles around one nipple, pleased to feel it harden at his touch.  He’d always trusted his instincts, and those instincts told him she’d wait for him. After all, she’d followed him from fort to fort for the last two years, finagling matching assignments. She’d wait seventeen weeks. Absence makes the cock grow harder, said member twitched in reply.

“Move it, mister.” Kendra stepped out of the shower and dried off with brisk efficiency. “Quit daydreaming.”

Just one last thing, Jace thought as he stepped out of the shower. “One little detail to handle,” he told his reflection, wiping the steam from the motel mirror. 

After he completed training, he’d change his marital status. Then he’d finally be free of his do-gooder, bleeding-heart wife. How, he wasn’t sure yet. The tricky part was getting rid of Abby while keeping her recent inheritance.

Kendra stood in front of Jace so he could fasten her bra. “What are you thinking about so intently?”

“I’m thinking about Abby,” he replied, finishing the clasps. “I’m thinking it’s convenient that the Army doesn’t pay for a family transfer until my next deployment.”

Kendra frowned. “Yes. But we have to deal with her eventually. I hate sneaking around.”

He leaned over to scoop his shirt from the floor and kiss the dimpled spot just above her lacy panties. “Be patient. I’m working on a plan to be rid of her. Permanently.”

* * *

Outside the motel, a silver Honda Accord sat in the shade of an overgrown mesquite tree, the front window rolled up despite the stifling Arizona heat.

The man in the driver’s seat removed his baseball cap and rubbed his sweaty head with a bandanna. He hated this monochrome desert landscape and its searing heat. It reminded him of Iraq. Made him feel exposed and twitchy. The glare brought back his blinding headaches, and the nightmares too. The ones that jerked him awake in a cold sweat, reaching for his rifle. 

But he had a job to do.

When Jace came out, the man put down his black coffee and raised binoculars to his eyes.  He watched Jace unlock his metallic blue Mustang. The son-of-a-gun was whistling as he slid behind the wheel. That smug face, seemingly right in front of him, thanks to the magnified lens, made his breath catch and stomach acid bubble up and burn his throat. He squeezed the binoculars until his fingers ached. Breathing hard, he imagined his hands around Jace’s neck, squeezing, squeezing, until that cocky smile disappeared, replaced by terror.

He wasn’t worried about being seen. Chances were Jace wouldn’t remember him, especially dressed as a civilian in a dark ball cap and a Black Sabbath logo t-shirt.

His old squad leader hadn’t changed a bit. Still slim, buff and full of himself. Still the lady’s man.

He shut his eyes as his nostrils filled with the old-penny scent of blood. The car, the heat, the sleazy motel faded away. Instead, he imagined his wife on the operating table, her belly clamped open, blood filling the cavity faster than the nurses could suction it out. He could just make out the tiny body of Baby Emily, still attached inside, while the surgeon worked frantically to get the baby out and save mother. As he watched, the still form disappeared, the face submerged in blood.

“No. No. No.” He trembled as terror seared his guts and the flashback engulfed him. His arms, of their own volition, reached out to touch his wife, to help lift his baby daughter’s head above the blood, to clean out her nose and throat and force her to breathe. Please, Emmy. Breathe.

The rumbling of Jace’s turbo-charged Mustang brought the stranger back to the motel. He unclamped his cramped hands from the steering wheel and gingerly massaged his chest. Just my luck to have a heart attack in this dusty, shit hole parking lot. His face was wet with tears. They ran down his chin to soak the neck of his tee shirt. 

I should have been there. I could have kept her healthier. Stronger. At least I could have held her hand at…at the end.

Anger scorched away his tears, as he thought about Jace Merrick, the self-involved asshole who made him miss his wife’s delivery. She lost her life. He lost his career. And Jace? Nothing. A night in the stockade for starting a bar fight. That’s all.

Soon after Barb and Em’s death, he’d suffered a psychotic breakdown during a night patrol. He was convinced people were trying to kill him.

“Of course they are, you jackass,” Jace told him. “We’re in the middle of a war zone.” He slapped him on the helmet and sent him back out on patrol the next night.

But who wants a marksman with the shakes? He looked down at his trembling hands in disgust.

His CO had no choice but to remove him from active duty. He recommended a medical discharge. “His sense of reality is fragile in the extreme,” the officer said in his report. “For his own sake, and for the safety of his squad mates, he needs rest and psychiatric care.”

He disagreed. What he really needed was revenge.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

Sandy Wright resides in Phoenix, Arizona with her husband, a rescued Australian Shepherd named Teak, and a black panther cat born during a full eclipse and named Shadow Moon.

She fell in love with the southwest desert, including its Native American influences, when she relocated from the Midwest.

CRESCENT MOON CROSSING, released August 2022, features a murder that could be ripped from today’s tension-laden border conflict headlines.

Staff Sergeant Jace Merrick has two short-term goals–join the Army Intelligence unit, and kill his wife. He hatches a scheme to make her death look like a Mexican cartel smuggling operation gone wrong. But before he can carry out his plan, she is shot, and he becomes the prime murder suspect.

SONG OF THE ANCIENTS, the first novel in the Ancient Magic paranormal suspense series, introduces readers to witchcraft and shamanism, seen through the eyes of an ordinary woman.

Readers interested in witchcraft—or just a dark, spooky tale—will enjoy this paranormal suspense, written by a real-life Wiccan High Priestess.

Visit Sandy at www.writersandy.com.

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Book Signing!

If you’re in the San Diego area you may want to stop by and meet author Ian Conner! Make sure to bring either your copy of Cardinals or Scadegemutc: Ghost Witch because he’ll be happy to sign them!

Here are the details!

When: August 14th at 2PM PST

Where: Warwicks Bookstore

Address: 7812 Girard Ave, La Jolla, CA 92037

About the Author

Ian Conner is retired and has spent most of his adult life as a Marine and Army Infantry Sergeant. Now living near San Diego California with his wife Bonnie, a cellist, and their two dogs, Cookie and Isabella. Conner spends his days fostering kittens, gardening, crafting beautiful stained glass and creating worlds on the page.

Black Raptor Books

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New Book on its way!

R & R Book Tours is presenting

Welcome to the tour for this new collection of short stories called, Short Stories for the Long Haul by John T. Buckley. 

Short Stories for the Long Haul

Expected Publication Date: August 12th, 2022

Genre: Anthology/ Fantasy/ Sci-Fi/ Crime Fiction & More

A collection of short stories that explore the human condition. Everything from a self-absorbed wannabe quarterback who gets his shot, to a woman who marries her dog…

Purchase Here!

About the Author

John T. Buckley is a 47-year-old writer from Maine who’s been writing most of his life. He also loves to paint and seeing the world. He studied at University of Southern Maine as well as at SMTC in Cape Elizabeth. Fun fact, John T. Buckley was once the lead singer in a band called Mammyth.

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New Book! The Bones of Amoret (Mystery/ Suspense)

We’re celebrating the release of author Arthur Herbert’s latest whodunnit, The Bones of Amoret! Read on for more details and a chance to win a signed copy of the book!

The Bones of Amoret

Publication Date: February 13th, 2022

Genre: Mystery/ Suspense

Amoret, Texas, 1982. Life along the border is harsh, but in a world where cultures work together to carve a living from the desert landscape, Blaine Beckett lives a life of isolation. A transplanted Boston intellectual, for twenty years locals have viewed him as a snob, a misanthrope, an outsider. He seems content to stand apart until one night when he vanishes into thin air amid signs of foul play.

Noah Grady, the town doctor, is a charming and popular good ol’ boy. He’s also a keeper of secrets, both the town’s and his own. He watches from afar as the mystery of Blaine’s disappearance unravels and rumors fly. Were the incipient cartels responsible? Was it a local with a grudge? Or did Blaine himself orchestrate his own disappearance? Then the unthinkable happens, and Noah begins to realize he’s considered a suspect.

Paced like a lit fuse and full of dizzying plot twists, The Bones of Amoret is a riveting whodunit that will keep you guessing all the way to its shocking conclusion.”

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About the Author

Arthur Herbert was born and raised in small town Texas. He worked on offshore oil rigs, as a bartender, a landscaper at a trailer park, and as a social worker before going to medical school. He chose to do a residency in general surgery, followed by a fellowship in critical care and trauma surgery. For the last seventeen years, he’s worked as a trauma and burn surgeon, operating on all ages of injured patients. He continues to run a thriving practice.

In this enigmatic follow up to his critically acclaimed debut novel The Cuts that Cure, Arthur Herbert returns to the Texas-Mexico border with this saga of a small town’s bloody loss of innocence.

Arthur currently lives in New Orleans, with his wife Amy and their dogs. He loves hearing from his readers, so don’t hesitate to email him at arthur@arthurherbertwriter.com

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New Book Coming! The Willows Weep (YA Fantasy/ Pirates)

If you like pirate action mixed in with your fantasy, you are going to want to read The Willows Weep by Alonna Williams, available for pre-order now!

The Willows Weep (Pirates of the Withering Deep #2)

Expected Publication Date: Coming Soon!

Genre: YA Fantasy/ Pirates

Publisher: Blue Gingham Publishing

The darkness lurks and smiles, beneath a weeping willow, a heart as pure as gold, can blacken as the night…

Now with stronger allies, Trevor is ready to tackle his biggest challenge yet, coming to terms with his Sirenhood. 

While Labyrinth fears being at the forefront due to the constant dangers he faces in Human form, Trevor recognizes his need to understand his Siren side.

Further down the rabbit hole of his mystifying quest, Trevor begins to unravel the perilous truth about his childhood friend and savior, the one called: “the Willow”, who saved him from the jaws of death before he was even born.

Can he really be the paragon of purity? Or could it be that a black heart lingers suppressed under the goodness of the Pure Siren? 

Coming Soon!

Excerpt

Trevor stepped back and looked down at the sand under his sock-covered feet. 

“Sadness,” Arjan realized. He could sense that emotion anywhere. “Sadness…because of 

me,” he continued. “If it is something you are wishing to say to me, use Insussurro. Your sadness will help you do so.”

Trevor stared at Arjan’s loose turquoise waves and furrowed his brow—trying to get in touch 

with his feelings. “I think it all would have been easier if you didn’t leave,” he finally said through the use of his Siren ability.

Arjan watched as Trevor’s fists balled, and his lips formed a scowl, though they never opened 

to form the words. They were just thoughts, his sadness transforming into anger. 

“I bear great regrets for that, little one,” Arjan replied. “I cannot tell you how many. But if I 

was having to do the same thing again, in much honesty I must tell you, I would.”

“I had no friends, Arjan. None. Not until Aldrich came along. They all thought I was weird,

and their parents told them stuff like that all the time because of…because of this!” he said through his lips as he pointed to one of his ears. Trevor then pointed to Arjan’s ears. “But you always had them. If I saw them on you, do you think I would have been bothered by them when they changed?

If I had the privilege of growing up with a Siren, do you think I would have cared about being an 

outcast to the rest of England?”

Pre-Order The Willows Weep

About the Author

Alonna Williams has been writing since she was a little girl. It started with a short story and soon progressed to novels. Aside from her debut novel, A Peculiar Royal, Alonna has worked on, Au Contraire, and grew up with a Pirate series entitled, Pirates of the Withering Coast, which is her favorite series of all.  When she’s not writing you’ll most likely find her dancing, whether it be, Tap, Ballet, Jazz or Lyrical, or watching a good classic movie or of course, bingeing Disney+.

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