#BookBlitz “The Stars Forgot Us” by R.J. Garcia

TheStartForgotUs copy

We’re celebrating the release of The Stars Forgot Us, by bestselling author R.J. Garcia. This beauty will be available on March 30th. Read on for details and a chance to enter a fantastic giveaway – A paperback copy & a $10 Amazon e-gift card (US only) and an e-book edition if the winner lives outside the US!

21-438 RJ Garcia The Stars Forgot Us (1)

The Stars Forgot Us

Publication Date: March 30th, 2022

Genre: YA Paranormal

Publisher: Midnight Tide Publishing

Fifteen-year-old Jacob Kelly would love to go back to simpler times. Before his parents’ divorce and the onset of his older brother’s schizophrenia. But when he returns to his hometown, things feel off. After a series of strange occurrences in his new house, Jacob fears the house is haunted, or even worse, he is losing his mind.

To his surprise, Jacob discovers a mysterious teenage runaway, Sanctuary Daniels, living in the house. She reveals she has been kept by a figure known only as Mother, in a place where downstairs children are languishing prisoners, and upstairs children do Mother’s bidding.

Both Jacob’s investigation into Sanctuary’s allegations and their budding romance are cut short when she is reclaimed by evil beings. Beings who unleash terror upon Jacob and his family. Now he must journey to a real haunted house to save his first love and fight for his life.

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Excerpt

My eyes snapped open as three words surfaced in my sleepy brain. You’re not alone. A cold settled into my flesh, making the fine hairs on my arm stand up. I sat up in bed, sucking in a deep breath, and stared into the darkness, unsure what had woken me. My lights were off. It was pitch black. Then the distinct pitter-patter of footsteps sounded down the hall.

“Mom?” When I got no answer, I jumped out of bed and scrambled for the light switch. The overhead fluorescent light blinked on, and I immediately noticed the closet door was partway opened again. This time, I was sure I’d closed it, so I started off with slow, measured steps to investigate. I yanked the door open the rest of the way and hit the closet light. I scoured the walls to discover more writing. The single word, HELP, was written in the same marker on the wall. My pulse skyrocketed. It freaked me out.

I crept back over to the bed and grabbed the blanket, swinging it around my shoulders like a cape, settling down on the drafty hardwood floor. With a shiver of anticipation, I kept my eyes pinned to the door, and strained to hear the slightest noise. It was eerily quiet. Even the wind had died down.

Unexpectedly, I heard a girl’s voice, so soft it was hardly audible, as it drifted up from the floor. It was only the word, “I’m.”

I scooted over to the vent and whispered, “Um…hello?” There was no reply. It could have been a ringing or humming in my ear. Yeah, I’d only imagined it was a voice. Yet, I hadn’t imagined the writing on the wall. I mean, what the hell? I got up and decided to have a look around. If someone was in the house, I had to know. I exited my room and began my search.

I stood face to face with a long and quiet hallway—doors on the left and right. My mind was a hot blank space as a thread of fear tugged me along. My mom’s bedroom was kitty-corner to my room, so I stepped in just far enough to take in the visual of her tucked in bed. Her sleeping sounds were somewhere between wheezes and moans.

“Mom?” I whispered, but she didn’t wake up, and I decided to just let her sleep.

I crossed over to the spare bedroom, smacking on the lights. There was only a desk and Mom’s old computer in the corner. Determined, I was now on a serious hunt and rushed to the closet, flinging the door open. There wasn’t anything. Not even writing on the wall.

Next on the list was Michael’s room. I found him sitting up in bed with a vacant stare. The lights were off, but the blinds were open. Moonlight flitted in, creating shadowy outlines above the chest of drawers that appeared incompatible and menacing.

My gaze returned to my brother as I cleared my throat. “Were you just walking around?”

“No.”

“Did you hear a girl’s voice, Mike?”

He came to life. “Yeah. I heard her.”

My mouth dropped. “Holy shit, I hoped I imagined it.”

Michael stared at me with an unsettling intensity. “I heard her in the vents, the drainpipes, and in the walls. If you listen closely enough, you’ll hear them all.”

Oh great, I’m losing it too.

My brother nodded approvingly. Tension slid from his features, softening his mouth and jaw muscles. Misery loves company, I guess.

Be sure to get your copy HERE on March 30th!

About the Author

Balck and white author pic

R.J. Garcia is a wife, and proud mom of two smart teens and a chorkie, Zoey She earned her MSW and worked with foster children and as a school social worker. Writing has been her other great love. She has been writing short stories for as long as she can remember. To her amazement, those short stories became novels!

RJ Garcia | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

Click the link below to enter the giveaway. This will run from today and close at 12 AM EST on March 31st. Good luck!

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#BookTour “Tunnel of Mirrors” by Ferne Arfin

We’re celebrating the release of Ferne Arfin’s novel, Tunnel of Mirrors. Read on for more details and a chance to win a hardcover edition of the book and a signed bookplate!

TunneOfMirrors_eBook_cover

Tunnel of Mirrors

Publication Date: February 1st, 2022

Genre: Literary Fiction/ Contemporary Literary Fiction/ Romantic Elements “Eternal Lovers”

Publisher: Green River Press

Rachel Isaacson, spirited, otherworldly and haunted, is born into a rigidly Old World family in New York’s Lower East Side. Hungry for independence, Rachel enters a marriage of convenience with violent consequences.

Across the Atlantic, storyteller, fiddler and cliff climber Ciaran McMurrough is raised in pastoral innocence on Rathlin off the coast of Ulster. His upbringing in a tight-knit, isolated community leaves him unprepared for the subtle political passions following the Irish Civil War.

Outcasts-one by choice, one by chance-Rachel and Ciaran meet on the docks of lower Manhattan in 1928. Drawn to each other in this lyrical story, must they repeat a doomed cycle as eternal lovers?

Tunnel of Mirrors fires the imagination and stirs the soul…a story to savour that remains long in the mind. I loved it.”

-Sunday Times Bestselling Author of Our Story, Miranda Dickinson

“Humour, emotion, and perfectly tuned dialogue, ensures her people are triumphantly alive.”

-Novelist Janette Jenkins, author of Firefly and Little Bones

Tunnel of Mirrors is a beautiful, lyrical recreation of the past. With warmth, wit and great heart, Ferne Arfin takes the reader back into the struggles and small victories of a lost world.”

-Toby Litt, English writer and academic, author of Patience

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Excerpt

Every morning, on the way to work, Rachel stopped at Bessie’s to change from the modest cotton dresses her father allowed into one of the swingy, short frocks that she and Bessie made during their lunch breaks. Then, their hemlines a daring nine inches above the ground, the two girls swanked uptown to their jobs at Mishkin’s, Theatrical Costumiers to the Trade.

Mishkin’s son, Arthur, managed the sewing rooms. He was sweet on Bessie and any friend of Bessie’s was a friend of his, so both girls could count on extra break time for their own sewing. They could count on remnants of fabric, from time to time, as well.

Mishkin allowed his trimmers to keep the beads and feathers swept up at the end of the day. Lately, Arthur, who Bessie kept on a very long leash, had begun passing on the full boxes of beads that were often left over when a show was dressed. These were supposed to go back into stock but Arthur said, “What the heck. They’re paid for. If my old man asks, you got them from the sweepings.”

“You’re a real prince, Arty,” Bessie would say and he would glow for a week. Sometimes she even gave him a peck on the cheek. It was a small price to pay for the very same sequins and beads the showgirls wore when they danced for Ziegfeld and Minsky.

Rachel and Bessie were making special dresses. They had big plans. It was no use knowing all the latest steps, if you couldn’t show them off at the landsmannschaft socials, where bearded old men and everybody’s mother prowled the dance floor. And most of the boys at Corkery’s Shamrock Dancehall thought a good time was slipping a double bathtub gin into a girl’s Moxie and seeing how far you could get her to go. If you went to Corkery’s too often, the regulars started thinking you were a charity girl who would do just about anything for the price of a bottle of pop. Drunken boys were always staggering out of there whistling the tune to I’ll Say She Does. Even though Corkery made his payments, the place got raided at least once a month. Duvi said it was part of Corkery’s arrangement with Tierney, who was the local boss, because it kept the neighbours off the councilman’s back. Duvi always knew about the raids in advance, so the girls never got into trouble.

But now Rachel and Bessie were ready for better things. In the right place, a girl could meet big spenders who were hot steppers and who carried real Canadian whiskey in silver hip flasks. But for high-class dancehalls like Roseland or Dreamworld or Feldman’s Coney Island Palace, they needed real dance dresses.

Bessie thought Rachel should bob her hair. But some things couldn’t be left behind in Bessie’s rooms and Rachel was careful to protect her new double life. “You said you wasn’t afraid of your old man,” Bessie insisted. Rachel couldn’t make Bessie, who never did anything by half, understand that some arguments were not worth the trouble. Or that most of the trouble would land on her mother. Bessie hadn’t had a mother in such a long time.

***

Rachel weighed a heavy hank of glass beads across the palm of her hand. Bugles. The most delicate cylinders of crystal blue and green, threaded on lengths of fine silk. They sparked like a shoal of moon-chased minnows. There were enough to finish.

“And about time too,” Bessie said. Bessie had grown impatient with Rachel’s fussy particularity. Anything that glittered made Bessie happy. While Rachel waited for just the right colours, Bessie had finished her dress and was stringing a boa of pink dyed marabou feathers. She waved it under Rachel’s nose. “Ain’t these just dee-vine?” she said. “Ain’t they just the cat’s pyjamas?”

Rachel didn’t have the heart to tell her she looked like an explosion at bead factory; Bessie was so eager to make what she imagined would be a very grand entrance at Roseland. “Look out fellas, here I come.”

Rachel had planned more carefully, making sure Arty found just what she needed. If Arty ever wondered why he took so much trouble for a skinny Jewish girl, when he was already married to one and when it was her Irish shiksa friend he was after, Rachel did not let him wonder for long. Still the dress had taken months to finish. It was covered with beaded fringe and scattered with iridescent sequins, flashes of silver and the smallest seed pearls that Arty could finagle. From its pure white hemline, it rose in a narrow column through all the greens and blues to a deep cobalt at the shoulders. When Rachel put it on, she looked like a creature risen from the bottom of the ocean, seafoam still clinging about her knees.

“Geez, you look like a million, kiddo.” Bessie said. “Who’d ever guess you was jail-bait.”

Available on Amazon and at B&N

About the Author

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London-based American writer Ferne Arfin has worked as a journalist, copywriter, actress and travel writer. Her short stories have been anthologised by Virago and Travellers’ Tales. Tunnel of Mirrors is her first published novel.

The View from Chelsea | Ferne Arfin | Instagram | Facebook | TikTok

 

Giveaway: Tunnel of Mirrors (Hardcover Edition) & Signed Bookplate (UK & North America Only)

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Book Tour Schedule

March 28th

R&R Book Tours (Kick-Off) http://rrbooktours.com

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

Books + Coffee = Happiness (Interview) https://bookscoffeehappiness.com/

Timeless Romance Blog (Spotlight) https://aubreywynne.com/

Latisha’s Low-Key Life (Spotlight) https://latishaslowkeylife.com/

Bunny’s Reviews (Spotlight) https://bookwormbunnyreviews.blogspot.com/

 March 29th

Raven’z Reviews (Interview & Review) http://ravenzreviews.blogspot.com/

The Faerie Review (Spotlight) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

Stine Writing (Spotlight) https://christinebialczak.com/

March 30th

@what.kerry.reads (Review) https://www.instagram.com/what.kerry.reads/

  @gryffindorbookishnerd (Review) https://www.instagram.com/gryffindorbookishnerd/

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

March 31st

Riss Reviews (Spotlight) https://rissreviewsx.wixsite.com/website

 @infinite.readlist (Spotlight) https://www.instagram.com/infinite.readlist/

Rambling Mads (Spotlight) http://ramblingmads.com

April 1st

@amber.bunch_author (Review) https://www.instagram.com/amber.bunch_author/

Not a Bunny (Review) https://notanybunny.wordpress.com/blog

Liliyana Shadowlyn (Spotlight) https://lshadowlynauthor.com/

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#ReleaseBlitz “Surf Sisters Secrets” by Karen Proudlove

AVAILABLE NOW!

Surf Sisters Secrets by Karen Proudlove

Release Date: 28th March

Genre: Seaside Town Romance. Standalone

 

Available now at Amazon: getBook.at/surfsisters

#Romance #SurfSistersSecrets #KarenProudlove #BareNakedWords #SeasideRomance

#Kindle #NewRelease #RomanceAuthor #RomanceBooks

 

Blurb

Twenty-five-year old Molly, is the Archer family princess and working hard to win the lifestyle she “deserves,” the problem with this – she needs to find a man rich enough to keep her in luxury handbags and designer shoes.

Everything is going to plan until she makes a decision that ruins her perfect reputation, and she has no choice but to run and hide. In a last-ditch attempt to salvage some self-worth she turns to the only person who can help, her sister Tessa. With an unfamiliar nervousness, Molly lands in the middle of her sister’s beautiful life in St. Ives, Cornwall, praying that she can forgive the years of torment she caused her growing up and give her a place of refuge.

With a group of crazy pensioners known as the Coastal Cahoots Club firmly in Tessa’s corner, it’s not only her sister she has to win over. Add in a sexy surfer who’s determined to get under her skin, a dishonourable ex and plenty of hilarious misunderstandings, Molly has got her hard work cut out for her.

Surf Sisters Secrets is the perfect read about self-discovery and opening your heart to new beginnings, because sometimes, changing your life plan can lead you to dreams you didn’t know you had.

 

 

Meet the Author

Karen Proudlove is a writer who enjoys sharing a happily ever after and believes that it’s every good girl’s dream to experience a steamy one. Growing up in North West England in a large family surrounded by love and support she found her Prince Charming many years ago and enjoys living the life they’ve made with their son.

She’s always had a creative imagination and decided that some of the stories bubbling in her head needed to be given life and shared. This pen name gives them the freedom to be loved by others.

When she’s not writing, she’s sewing, cycling or chomping on crisps in front of the TV.

CONTACT ME VIA…

Follow my Website on: www.karenproudlovebooks.com

Facebook: @karen proudlove books

Twitter: @kplovebooks

Instagram: @karenproudlovebooks

#BookBlitz “I’m a Contract Killer” by Andrew Segal

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The Aberration Series: Book 2

Thriller / Noir

 

Date Published: 03-07-2022

Publisher: Happy London Press

This is the second book in the Aberrations Series, a collection of ten new, short stories to tease and tickle.

How would you feel if you came face to face with a contract killer? I did, and it formed the basis for my title story .

But then, most, if not all of my yarns have a foundation in something I’ve heard, read or personally experienced.

I’ve kept a diary, for example, but have not had as macabre an experience as the old man in my tale, Dear Diary .

One might wonder, for example, whether, given the chance, the leopard might ever change its spots? Read my take on it and find out for yourself. This story was based on an actual event involving my wife, when she was just six years old. Her mother was so appalled by what happened, she refused to ever speak about it, or hear about it for the rest of her life.

I am not, and have never been a Gigolo, but decided to have our hero from Book 1 meet his comeuppance in Book 2 when he meets a Courtesan, who tumbles his well-kept secret. It’s all there for you to appreciate.

In this second Book in the series, I’ve also looked at taxidermy, car crime and conditions under which an innocent journalist might be tortured and imprisoned in Vietnam? All based on personal experience, or else events I’ve read about in the press which struck me as being worthy of a view to be expressed in a short story .

These are just a few tasters of a collection of tales I hope you’ll enjoy reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.

Andrew Segal

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About the Author

My inspirations have come from real people, events or situations that have presented themselves. Titles like, I am a Contract Killer, I am a Gigolo, Death Zone, License to Kill, are all based on my own lifetime experiences, questions asked, incidents occurring.

Let me be reassuring, thus-far, nobody has been murdered on my watch. But the notion gave rise to the impetus to write my first murder mystery, The Lyme Regis Murders. Could I make the jump after years of writing macabre short stories to a full length drama? That familiar beating in the gut, said, ‘Yes, try it. Give it a go.’

And so to that cosy coastal town where nothing untoward ever happens. Or perhaps it does. The author seeks to shatter notions, change people’s perceptions, spoil long held views. That was my intention in entering into the world of crime thrillers. I’ve found that ‘nice’ people are not always what they seem. The helpless can be transformed into the most dangerous, the most dangerous become the most harmless. It’s all up to the writer and what they’re hoping to achieve.

For me there have been 10 children’s books, 4 books of short stories and so far, three novels, with a fourth in the mixer.

Whilst a short story might be written with a flurry of adrenalin in the space of a few hours, a book will need more than just a flash of creativity. It will need perseverance, discipline and dogged determination.

But then, isn’t that what is required of every ambition?

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