#BookReview “The Prisoner of Paradise” by Rob Samborn

January 24 – February 18, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Prisoner of Paradise book cover

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5/5 Stars!

Sharp and smart, this engrossing page-turner, leaves little time for breathing.

Opening with two mysterious characters in a clandestine meeting in 16th century Venice, one of the men realizes he must leave his country after they are attacked. However, the man, Angelo Mascari, vows to return to save his love from her torturous imprisonment.

Switch to the present where Nick O’Connor is regaining consciousness after getting head-checked in a hockey game.

During their Italian vacation, Nick’s wife believes he’s still suffering from a concussion and wants him to see a doctor.

But it’s not a doctor Nick needs.

He blacks out in a museum after four-hundred-year-old painting whispers to him and flashes back to 16th century Venice as a peasant swordsman.

A dramatic rescue, a religious brotherhood that may be good… or so very evil, and Nick torn between loving two women in two different centuries are just part of the drama as Nick tries to solve the mystery and free himself from living in two centuries. But does he want to?

Excellent writing and attention to detail transported me from Arizona to Venice! The author’s world-building is spot on and it’s more than obvious he researched this read.

I recommend reading The Prisoner of Paradise in one sitting. Its fast pace and intelligent plot cannot be put aside for long. If you’re a “skimmer” reader, keep it moving. Every word in this read is necessary to lead you to a stunning conclusion.

Enjoy!

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Synopsis:

 

The world’s largest oil painting. A 400-year-old murder. A disembodied whisper: “Amore mio.” My love.

Nick and Julia O’Connor’s dream trip to Venice collapses when a haunting voice reaches out to Nick from Tintoretto’s Paradise, a monumental depiction of Heaven. Convinced his delusions are the result of a concussion, Julia insists her husband see a doctor, though Nick is adamant the voice was real.

Blacking out in the museum, Nick flashes back to a life as a 16th century Venetian peasant swordsman. He recalls precisely who the voice belongs to: Isabella Scalfini, a married aristocrat he was tasked to seduce but with whom he instead found true love. A love stolen from them hundreds of years prior.

She implores Nick to liberate her from a powerful order of religious vigilantes who judge and sentence souls to the canvas for eternity. Releasing Isabella also means unleashing thousands of other imprisoned souls, all of which the order claims are evil.

As infatuation with a possible hallucination clouds his commitment to a present-day wife, Nick’s past self takes over. Wracked with guilt, he can no longer allow Isabella to remain tormented, despite the consequences. He must right an age-old wrong – destroy the painting and free his soul mate. But the order will eradicate anyone who threatens their ethereal prison and their control over Venice.

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller

Published by: TouchPoint Press

Publication Date: November 30th 2021

Number of Pages: 333

ISBN: 1952816890 (ISBN-13: 9781952816895)

Series: The Paradise Series, #1

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

~~~

Tour Participants:

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#AudioTour “Born to Die (A Detective Al Warner Novel)” by George A. Bernstein

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Narrated by:  Michael Harrity

A Detective Al Warner Suspense Novel

 Mystery / Suspense

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Too many infant boys of Palm Beach gentry are dying of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS). Only obstetrics nurse Casey Jansson is suspicious.

Al Warner, crack Miami homicide detective, is inactive, languishing on
medical leave from a deadly shootout with the Angel of Death. He’s in
the best physical condition of his life, but struggling to convince the
department’s shrink he is not suffering from PTSD.

Warner meets Casey at a local pub. They are attracted to each other, but
misreading the other’s body language, remain reserved. Learning of the
SIDS deaths from Casey, Warner concedes it sounds more than coincidental,
agreeing to help investigate and hoping romance develops later.

Then Danny O’Brien, a resident doctor and Casey’s best friend,
whose research on the deaths is coming to a stunning conclusion, is killed
when his little Honda is pushed into the path of a speeding
tractor-trailer.

Casey is shattered, but stubbornly continues her search for a culprit for
these SIDS deaths. She receives Danny’s notes, mailed to her just
before his death. Eager to investigate, she leaves Warner a message, and
then follows her suspect deep into the Everglades. Getting Casey’s
message, Warner races after her, sure that she put herself in danger. But
unlike Casey, who had an unwitting guide, he is uncertain where to look.
Casey’s obsession tangles her up in mortal danger. Only Warner can
save her – if he can figure out where she went, and get there in time.

~~~

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 About the Author

George A. Bernstein, now living in south Florida, is the retired President of a modest, publicly held appliance manufacturer. He spent years attending writing seminars and conferences, learning to polish his work and developing a strong “voice.” George is acclaimed by his peers as a superb wordsmith and a crafter of surprise endings no one expects. He works with
professional editors to ensure his novels meet his own rigorous standards, and all of his books are currently published by small indie press, GnD Publishing LLC, in which he has an interest.

Taken is the sixth of his Detective Al Warner Suspense series, with the first five; Death’s Angel; Born to Die; The Prom Dress Killer; White Death; and Sniper, all garnering rave reviews. His Detective Al Warner has attracted many fans, with readers likening Warner to James Patterson’s Alex Cross. Four of his novels are also now available in Audible.

Bernstein’s first novel, Trapped, was a winner in a small Indie publisher’s “Next Great American Novel” contest, and received high praise, gaining many mostly 5-star reviews, reaching “Top 100” status. His second novel, A 3rd Time to Die (A paranormal Romantic Suspense) has also garnered mostly 5-Star & 4-Star reviews, with one reader likening him to the best, less “spooky” works of Dean Koontz & Stephen King.

Bernstein is also a “World-class” fly-fisherman, setting a baker’s dozen IGFA World Records, mostly on fly-rods. He’s written the popular Toothy Critters Love Flies, the complete book on fly-fishing for pike & musky.

Conact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

~~~

 Purchase Link

Audible

Kindle Unlimited

Amazon – Digital

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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#BookTour “Ruins on Stone Hill (Heroes of Ravenford Book 1)” by F. P. Spirit

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Heroes of Ravenford Book 1

Fantasy

What do you get when you mix a novice wizard, a reckless warrior, a sharp-tongued thief, & a saintly cleric? Swords, sorcery, & sarcasm.

They didn’t set out to be heroes, but the little town of Ravenford was in desperate need. Before Glolindir and his friends knew it they were facing fierce monsters, deadly assassins, black mages, cunning demons, powerful dragons, and even the remnants of the dread Thrall Masters themselves. Will they be able to live up to the challenge, or will they fall and leave Ravenford at the mercy of the forces of darkness?

~~~

EXCERPT

CHAPTER 1

The Red Warrior

The aged ash trees reached toward the sky. Glimpses of deep blue peeked through the treetops, the light of the afternoon sun barely penetrating the dense forest foliage. The fresh scent of the surrounding trees and bushes, mixed in with the earthy aroma of grass, wafted on the cool crisp air. A trace of dust lingered, churned up by the wheels of the wagons that had traveled the well-worn dirt road, cutting a path through the looming forest.

Other odors also rose from the earth: the musky, warm smell of horses, the heady memory of wine, some pungent herbs, and dried hay. These scents were attached to a group of travelers. Horses pulled wagons filled with boxes, barrels of goods, and beverages that the caravan owners were carting to their destination. The wagon floors were lined with hay in a vain attempt to make passengers more comfortable.

The clip-clop of horse hooves, the squeaking of turning wheels, and the creaking of wagons announced the caravan’s presence along the dirt road. Bright-voiced birds and rustling leaves accompanied its passage through the forest.

Glolindir sat in one of those wagons on a pile of hay—his back propped against a box of goods with his cloak thrown over it in an attempt to make the seat more comfortable. Being an elf, Glo did not look much different from a human. Standing at about six feet tall with flaxen hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, he was perhaps a bit thinner than most humans, but the only trait that gave away his heritage was his pointed ears.

Glolindir had been lulled into a half-trance by the rocking motion of the wagon, and the soft sounds of the forest. The young elf was quite content, until he realized that something was different. There was a subtle change in their surroundings, but he could not quite tell what it was. He opened his eyes and gazed around, straining his senses.

His friend, Aksel, was doing the same. A few minutes ago, the gnome had been lounging across from him on a second pile of hay. Now Aksel was standing up, his three-foot frame tensing as he listened with his own pointed ears.

They were both transfixed, trying to place what was amiss. Aksel gazed at him. Glo shook his head at the silent question that passed between them. They were missing something obvious, something that was just at the edge of their awareness. Both friends turned to gaze at Seth.

The halfling sat in the front of the wagon next to the driver. His small frame, just barely shorter than Aksel’s, was dwarfed next to him. Seth’s head was slightly cocked as if also listening.

Listening. That was it! There weren’t any forest sounds. The birds had stopped chirping their songs, and even the rustling of leaves had died down. Glo continued to strain his ears, but the surrounding woods remained quiet. He opened his mouth to say something when a strange sensation washed over him. It hit him like a crashing wave, making every nerve taut. His heart raced, sweat gathered across his brow, and he felt a bit light-headed.

Aksel must have noticed his sudden change in condition. “Are you alright?” Glo ignored the gnome, his eyes darting from side to side. He searched for any sign of danger, yet saw nothing to warrant such an intense reaction. What is causing this sense of dread? It suddenly dawned on him—it was his familiar, Raven. He was linked empathically to the tiny magical beast, and these feelings of fear were coming from her!

Glo stood up and poked his head out of the wagon, looking up into the trees. Where is she? He scanned all around, his heart still pounding. There she is. He spotted her up the road ahead of them, winging her way back in a state of utter panic.

Aksel’s head suddenly appeared next to him. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Raven. Something has her really spooked—something on the trail ahead.”

Aksel raised an eyebrow. Seth’s eyes narrowed. Even the wiry old wagon driver knew something was wrong. He glanced over at Glo and said, “Son, you don’t look so good.”

Glo steadied himself. “I’ll be fine.”

They scanned the woods ahead, three pairs of keen eyes scrutinizing either side of the trail.

“Over there!” Seth pointed up ahead off the trail to the left.

Glo focused in on the spot, but at first saw nothing. Abruptly something moved. It looked like the top of a bow. Glo strained his eyes, trying to get a better look. Is that an arm? Yes, he saw an arm—a bare green arm. It was sticking out from behind a bush and holding a drawn bow with a nocked arrow. As he continued to watch, a gust of wind briefly blew the bush aside. For just an instant, he got a look at a face.

It was not quite human, but brutish, almost monkey-like with green skin and two short tusks protruding from the lower jaw. Glo was momentarily startled. He’d seen such a creature before, but only in books back home. That’s an orc! A wave of nervousness passed through his body. Orcs were nasty creatures—carnivorous humanoids who did not mind feeding on the flesh of people. They were all in grave danger.

Aksel and Seth must have seen it as well. Aksel let out a soft gasp, and Seth’s eyes went dark, a twisted smile crossing his face. Glo pushed down his rattled nerves, and took a deep breath.

“Orc!”

His voice startled the driver, and the man nearly fell out of his seat and off the wagon. He recovered and pulled hard on the reins, bringing the wagon to a complete halt. The driver then turned, dove into the wagon, and crawled back behind the barrels and boxes.

The reaction had caught Glo by surprise. He tore his eyes away and peered out ahead of them. The other wagons had also stopped. Aksel distracted him yet again. “Where did Seth go?”

In all the commotion, Seth had disappeared. Glo scanned the area, his heart pounding in a frantic rhythm. He finally caught sight of Seth stealthily crawling under the stopped wagon in front of them. He was about to cry out to him, when a whizzing noise came out of the forest. Glo instinctively ducked down into the wagon, Aksel beside him. A split second later, two arrows embedded themselves into the seat above. Both elf and gnome flinched at the sight.

Glo swallowed hard. “I think he’s headed toward the front of the caravan!”

Aksel merely shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Glo silently hoped that Seth knew what he was doing.

Aksel mirrored his thoughts. “I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

“He was well-hidden beneath the wagons.” Though he tried to sound comforting, Glo was equally worried about their friend. In fact, he was concerned about all of them. Orcs were not creatures to be trifled with. This was a deadly situation—one they just might not survive.

~~~

All of the books in the Heroes of Ravenford series:

~

Ruins on Stone Hill

Heroes of Ravenford Book 1

~

The Serpent Cult

Heroes of Ravenford, Book 2

An army of darkness. A group of young heroes. A town hanging in the balance.

~

The Dark Monolith

Heroes of Ravenford, Book 3

A cult of black mages and demons. The secret to the Thrall Masters’ terrifying power. A desperate race to find it first.

~

Princess of Lanfor

Heroes of Ravenford, Book 4

An insane princess who wants to rule the world. A magical artifact of terrifying power. A deadly struggle to possess it.

~

The Baron’s Heart

Heroes of Ravenford, Book 5

A brutal murder. A missing heart. A race against time and death.

B&N

Kobo

iBooks

Smashwords

Google Play

~~~

~~~


About the Author

F.P. Spirit is an avid science fiction and fantasy fan. A Trekkie before it was cool, F. P. became hooked on fantasy the moment he cracked open his first copy of Lord of the Rings. When he is not lost roaming the multiverse of sci-fi and high-fantasy fiction, F. P. is either creating adventures for his roll-playing friends and family or connecting with his mind and body in an attempt to reach that inner spark of spirit.

Contact Links

Website

Twitter

Facebook

Instagram

GoodReads

Pinterest

TikTok

YouTube

BookBuzz

~~~

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N

Kobo

iBooks

Google Play

Smashwords

RABT Book Tours & PR

~~~

#BookTour “The Prisoner of Paradise” by Rob Samborn

The Prisoner of Paradise by Rob Samborn Banner~~~

January 24 – February 18, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

Prisoner of Paradise book cover

~~~

Synopsis:

 

The world’s largest oil painting. A 400-year-old murder. A disembodied whisper: “Amore mio.” My love.

Nick and Julia O’Connor’s dream trip to Venice collapses when a haunting voice reaches out to Nick from Tintoretto’s Paradise, a monumental depiction of Heaven. Convinced his delusions are the result of a concussion, Julia insists her husband see a doctor, though Nick is adamant the voice was real.

Blacking out in the museum, Nick flashes back to a life as a 16th century Venetian peasant swordsman. He recalls precisely who the voice belongs to: Isabella Scalfini, a married aristocrat he was tasked to seduce but with whom he instead found true love. A love stolen from them hundreds of years prior.

She implores Nick to liberate her from a powerful order of religious vigilantes who judge and sentence souls to the canvas for eternity. Releasing Isabella also means unleashing thousands of other imprisoned souls, all of which the order claims are evil.

As infatuation with a possible hallucination clouds his commitment to a present-day wife, Nick’s past self takes over. Wracked with guilt, he can no longer allow Isabella to remain tormented, despite the consequences. He must right an age-old wrong – destroy the painting and free his soul mate. But the order will eradicate anyone who threatens their ethereal prison and their control over Venice.

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller

Published by: TouchPoint Press

Publication Date: November 30th 2021

Number of Pages: 333

ISBN: 1952816890 (ISBN-13: 9781952816895)

Series: The Paradise Series, #1

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

~~~

Read an excerpt:

The flood of questions never left Nick’s lips. Large hands wrenched him up by his armpits.

A hushed voice spoke in his ear. “Come with us. Quietly.”

The grip tightened.

Nick twisted his head to his sides. Bernardo led him away, staring straight ahead. Another security guard in a navy-blue suit flanked him. The man was about Nick’s age, with a close-cropped beard and light brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail—and considerably heftier than Bernardo.

“Dante,” said Bernardo to the guard, “please notify—”

Nick whipped his arms from Bernardo’s hold. Twisting, he whacked Dante’s earpiece, jamming the device into the large man’s head. Then he shouldered him into the nearest wall. Appalled gasps rose from the remaining tourists.

Bernardo grabbed Nick from behind. Nick’s elbow blasted backward, landing with a shattering blow in the man’s ribs. Dante dug his finger into his ear and pulled the piece out. He flicked it at Nick, poised to attack.

Confident he was quicker, Nick ducked, popped up, and discharged a quick snap of his fist.

Blood from the brawny guard’s nose sprayed across the polished marble wall.

Museum patrons, many holding cell phones, cameras, and tablets, backed up, giving the fight a wide berth. Nick clocked Bernardo. His wide tungsten wedding ring connected with the man’s jaw.

Bernardo stumbled, falling to the floor.

Nick sprinted for the exit and down the hall, tossing the hat and scarf as he ran.

Bursting through the Palazzo doors, he descended the Giants’ Staircase three steps at a time but slipped on the courtyard’s stone surface and crashed on his back. A jolt to his tailbone rang up his spine. He rolled onto his side and checked the staircase.

Bernardo and Dante loomed at the top. The two men hustled down, their dark jackets flowing behind them.

Tiny gravel pebbles burrowed into Nick’s palms as he scrambled up. He darted for the main entrance, disregarding what felt like a sledgehammer pounding his lower back with every step.

“Arrestatelo!” Bernardo called out.

Two uniformed guards rushed to block the front gate.

Nick stormed ahead.

The guards braced themselves. Nick plowed into the larger one, his speed and weight bowling the man over.

The smaller guard dove for Nick, wrapping a firm hold around his ankle. He pitched forward and fell to the ground.

“Fuck.” Nick kicked his free foot out. It hit the man’s cheek with a sickening crunch. A bloody tooth flew out and skipped across the ground. The guard’s grip loosened.

Nick clambered to his feet and bolted for the entrance. He dodged a college-aged tourist, jumped the turnstile, and sprinted for St. Mark’s Square.

A large woman in a neon pink shirt with a matching visor shouted at him. She pulled her young daughter to her as Nick ran by, almost knocking them down. He regretted the bedlam he was causing, but what choice did he have?

Pigeons flew upward in alarm as he made his way through the golden, late afternoon light of the square. He glanced over his shoulder.

Bernardo and Dante closed in, thirty feet away.

Nick’s throbbing back screamed for attention, but he upped his speed and crossed into an alley in the corner of the piazza. He reached the other side, raced through the passageway between buildings, and entered a narrow street. He shuffled into a group of revelers who had overflowed from a crowded wine bar. Shimmying through the people, he spotted a small bridge over the next canal. Nick dashed across it and made another right, which led him to yet another alley.

Stagnant, rank air engulfed him.

“Son of a bitch.”

A dead-end. Illegible graffiti covered the walls. Even in the moment, the vandalism pissed Nick off.

A steel door was the only possible exit. The rusty knob didn’t budge. Nick pivoted back toward the alley entrance.

His pursuers cast long shadows that extended to Nick’s sneakers. Despite their broken posture as they fought to catch their breath, their expressions championed triumph. Dante wiped the blood from his nose with a grin.

“You were warned more than once.” Bernardo’s voice echoed off the walls.

Unsure how he’d escape, Nick retreated until he bumped against the door.

The men advanced. Each pulled a silver short sword from a concealed holster beneath their suit jackets.

Fear and desperation caused Nick’s heart to pound so violently, he thought he heard it. But the blood churning through him generated a stronger urge: revenge. And he could only do right by Isabella if he survived this mess.

Bernardo lunged. Though burly and one-armed, his movements were lithe.

Nick dropped low as the sword whizzed over his head.

Dante positioned his weapon high and brought it down, slicing through Nick’s shirt and into his forearm.

Nick hollered as the pain seared through him.

He charged Dante, who raised his sword again. Nick caught his hand and body-checked him into the brick wall. Nick sensed Bernardo behind him and rotated, barely avoiding the blade slicing for his back.

Planting his foot, Nick went for the sword. His hands clenched around Bernardo’s, and they struggled for control of the hilt. Nick spat in his eyes and wrested the weapon away. With the last of his wavering strength, he slipped behind Bernardo and brought the sword to the man’s armpit under his one arm.

“Drop it,” he said to Dante, who had his back to the alley’s end.

Dante scowled but let his weapon fall with an echoing clang.

“Now kick it over here and lay down. On your stomach. Arms out.”

Dante did as instructed.

“Get next to him,” Nick ordered Bernardo with a shove. “Flat.”

Bernardo followed suit.

Retrieving Dante’s weapon, Nick kept watch on their forms. His opponents counterbalanced the stare, studying his every move. Nick wrapped his fingers around the hilts. Holding swords felt good. Natural. He flourished them simultaneously and grinned, unaware he had that skill.

Nick had a peculiar sensation, not that of anger but distinct determination. His mind played through potential outcomes, and one came into focus: he imagined rushing the men, and with raised blades, he hacked their bodies—first their faces, then their necks and torsos. Their warm blood drenched his skin.

The scene gave him a surge of foul power. He teetered from the unfamiliarity of it and shook his head to clear the image.

No. Nick wasn’t a murderer.

Instead, he turned and raced for the alley entrance, tossing the swords away in disgust. His heart sank as he heard the two men getting to their feet. Rounding the corner, Nick ran under an archway connecting two buildings. He angled for the building wall, stepped on a brick edge, and jumped up, catching an exposed pipe ten feet up.

As footsteps approached, he swung and kicked, striking a direct hit into Bernardo’s face. Bernardo toppled into Dante, the two landing hard on the ground. Nick dropped from the pipe and sprinted in the other direction, his torn shirtsleeve flapping off his bloodied arm. 

***

Excerpt from The Prisoner of Paradise by Rob Samborn. Copyright 2021 by Rob Samborn. Reproduced with permission from Rob Samborn. All rights reserved.

~~~

Author Bio:

Rob Samborn

In addition to being a novelist, Rob Samborn is a screenwriter, entrepreneur and avid traveler. He’s been to forty countries, lived in five of them (including Italy) and studied nine languages. As a restless spirit who can’t remember the last time he was bored, Rob is on a quest to explore the intricacies of our world and try his hand at a multitude of crafts; he’s also an accomplished artist and musician, as well as a budding furniture maker. A native New Yorker who lived in Los Angeles for twenty years, he now makes his home in Denver with his wife, daughter and dog.

Catch Up With Rob Samborn:
RobSamborn.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @rsamborn
LinkedIn
Instagram – @robsamborn
Twitter – @RobSamborn
Facebook – @RobSambornAuthor
TikTok – @robsamborn

~~~

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great host on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

~~~

Join In & Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Rob Samborn. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

E N T E R

~~~

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

~~~