Giveaway – At The Ready by Sharon Michalove @partnersincr1me @sdmichalove

At the Ready by Sharon Michalove Banner

At the Ready

by Sharon Michalove

August 28 – September 22, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

What happens when a hunky French-Canadian security executive falls for a feisty Chicago lawyer?

Micki Press and JL Martin both have complicated lives, but when they come together, the sparks are undeniable. Micki is trying to make it to the top of one of the most conservative corporate law firms in Chicago. JL is the CEO of WatchDog Inc., a successful security company, and is struggling with his own family complications. When Micki’s former lover stalks her, JL steps in to protect her, and the two soon realize their feelings go beyond friendship. But with their complicated pasts and the struggles of the corporate world, are they ready to take the next step, or will the twists and turns have them singing the Chicago blues?

If you enjoy a story of complicated love and corporate ambition, you’ll love At the Ready. If you enjoy fast-paced action, romance, and a dash of karaoke, you’ll fall for At the Ready.

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published by: Coffee and Eclairs Books (self-published)
Publication Date: August 2023
ISBN: 978-1-7369187-6-0
Series: Global Security Unlimited, 3
Book Links: Amazon | Book Bub | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chicago, February 2014

One secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes.—Benjamin Disraeli

Micki

Today’s the day. Best suit. Flawless hair and makeup. Every inch the polished senior associate. No four-inch heels, though. Frederick Lanscombe, managing partner, is a little sensitive about his height and this meeting is the crucial first step in the campaign to be the next partner at Miller, Lanscombe, Baker, Francis, Masters, and Hargrove.

The door to the small conference room is wide open, Fred at the head of table, eating a donut. My mentor, Rebecca Masters smiles and gives me a small thumbs up. Tyler Miller nods to acknowledge I’m there. More than there. After a hundred years, this firm is still a boys’ club but I plan to crack into top echelon and become just the second woman to make partner.

I fly through the door and end up on hands and knees when Hayden Forbes-Cartwright barrels into me. When I look up, Fred’s donut is poised at his open mouth. Rebecca’s hand is over her mouth. And Tyler laughs. “Great entrance, Micki.” The censure I hear pricks my balloon of confidence.

A snigger erupts from Hayden as his big hand reaches down to pull me up. “So sorry, Micki. Couldn’t put the brakes on in time.”

Upright, balanced a little precariously on my toothpick heels, my glare has the heat of the Milky Way. Not that Hayden pays any attention. His bogus concern is yet one more layer of deceit. Still, points to him. I’m the klutz and he’s the chivalric hero.“Have a seat, Micki, Hayden.” Fred gives each of us a once over. Dressing well is one of the unspoken rules. Hayden’s navy blue pinstripe is comparable to my silver gray jacket and matching pencil skirt—points even on wardrobe. My phone is in my lap and I pull up my spreadsheet. I’ve kept score since the first time we met. The advantage has seesawed back and forth, but we’re competing for the pinnacle in the stakes race, so I’ll have to up my game.

Hayden and I were adversaries from the get-go. We started here, on the same day eight years ago. Me half an hour early. Hayden fifteen minutes late strolling in with his uncle. All my muscles clenched when he looked me over with his trademark devil-may-care smile.

“I know you received the memo. With Sonny Philips’ retirement, the firm will promote one associate to partner this year. As the two seniors, you will be the leading candidates.”

Hayden stops fiddling with his Chicago Yacht Club tie. “Does that mean other associates might be considered?”

“Technically, yes, but in reality you two are the only ones qualified right now. The partners will evaluate you on several criteria besides the competencies you’ve shown in your time here.”

He pauses.

Hayden rushes into the short silence. “Does every partner get a vote?”

“You know they do,” Tyler chides his nephew impatiently.

“And are some votes weighted more heavily than others? Like seniority?”

“No.” Rebecca’s response is explosive. “Please go on, Fred.”

When I glance toward Hayden, he shows no embarrassment, not even a slight flush. We all learn to put on a neutral face. I permit myself a very small smile. Minus five to Hayden.

Fred looks at the sheet in front of him, then from Tyler to Rebecca. They nod. “The criteria include enthusiasm, treatment of others, the opinion of your mentor, maintaining personal control, commitment, successful building and protection of your reputation and that of the firm, consistent hard work, always available, constant improvement, and most important— being perceived as trustworthy.”

Hayden’s eyes dart like tiny silverfish, his tell when he’s scheming. on how to get the edge. While I put in the long hours and never turn down a request, Hayden skates by, taking credit for the work of junior associates. Boasting about staying late when he disappears in the middle of the day. When your uncle’s name is on the door, you have an extra pass. Tyler Miller will definitely push for Hayden to be the next partner.

Fred is still talking and I wrench my attention back to his droning monotone. “Besides the formal evaluation, the other piece will be assisting Rebecca with a high-profile insider trading case. It’s more than usually sensitive because our client is a candidate for a Senate seat. He says he’s been set up. Not necessarily a strong or provable defense. You’ll be combing emails, social media, accounts, and documents to see what evidence you find.”

Bucket of nightcrawlers? Come on, Micki, try to show some enthusiasm. Can’t jump up and down.

“What a great opportunity for us to show what we’re made of.” Hayden’s wide smile and crackling delivery is phony as a carney barker’s come on.

Our managing partner nods his head approvingly. Hayden is his favored candidate too. Fred and Tyler have some kind of mutual admiration society and Hayden benefits.

Yeah, he’s a suck up.

My turn. Say something but avoid the gush. “This is a amazing challenge. I really appreciate the chance to work on a case so important to the future and reputation of the firm and, potentially beyond, Fred.”

Rebecca produces a small smile, so I hope I’ve hit the right note.

As we walk out, she stops me. “Micki, I have a lunch appointment, but let’s have a drink after work.” She looks around but doesn’t see anyone in lurking mode. “We haven’t had a good chat for a while.”

“Great, Rebecca. Just come by my office when you’re ready to leave.”

Then I cancel my date for the evening. Work comes first, always.

*****

The Gage is lively at five thirty. After-work drinks have replaced the three-martini lunch, unless you’re Hayden Forbes-Cartwright. He indulges in both.

Rebecca manages to get us a quiet table in a corner near the tile fireplace. We won’t have to shout and have less likelihood of being overheard.

After the drinks are ordered, she pulls out a legal pad. “Thought we could go over some strategies for the work. My thought is that you’ll work on the emails, social media, anything online and whatever documents we can upload. That way, while you’re traveling, you’ll have plenty of material to access.”

“That would be great. I’ve been anxious about being away at such a crucial point in my career.”

The pencil between Rebecca’s fingers moves up and down like a seesaw. “Thanks to technology. Years ago we were tied to the office, the library. I’m glad you can go to the awards ceremony. Kind of like the Oscars for authors.”

“Yeah. Still five working days away…”

“Our new legal research assistant is already busy organizing everything as documentation comes in.”

A Paris Rose is put in front of Rebecca, who pushes her legal pad to the side, but not before a few drops splash onto the paper, leaving a light pink trail. My Jabberwock is in a coupe. She takes a sip just as the cheese board is deposited in the middle of the table along with a basket of fried pickles. Cheese is a magnet for me. My grabby fingers snatch some almost before the server gets the platter on the table.

“Simon Greenberg is an attorney with Talcott, Maier, and current Republican candidate for Senate from Illinois. The SEC received a tip claiming he made use of private information to trade stocks from several companies he represents. After an investigation, the Commission decided on civil charges. Unfortunately, because his candidacy has made him a public figure, criminal charges are pending as well. Maybe some questions about election finance too.”

“Wait. Shouldn’t Hayden be here?” Not that I want him, but if we’re a team, he deserves the same explanations.

“Hayden has already been briefed.”

Be professional. In control. Pretend it doesn’t matter.

“Oh. I see.” But I don’t. Not at all.

Rebecca takes a huge swallow of the pink liquid. “Not by me. After our meeting, Tyler and Fred took Hayden to lunch and briefed him there.”

How does she know? Or is this an assumption? My heated protest escapes before I can rein it in. “But it’s your case.”

She waves the comment away. “He was so full of himself when he got back. Swanned into my office. ‘Simon Greenberg, huh. I wondered after the rumors flying around. Good for us.’ Then he laughed and walked out.” Her scowl could freeze the Chicago River. “I was sure Tyler at least would make sure he’s up to speed and I wanted to get you in the loop right away. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fred and Tyler didn’t give Hayden some instruction on how to handle things and he will take advantage of the time you are away in April.”

My cocktail beckons and I chug it down, sputtering slightly. “Should I cancel the trip?”

She ignores that. “You’ll meet the client tomorrow, so make a strong impression. You’ll have plenty of work to do while you’re out of the office. Get your laptop set up with VPN. It will be your lifeline to the firm. Video meetings will help too. Make sure you can report on progress every day. A strong impression while you’re in Paris will give you a leg up.”

We see the waiter in the distance and Rebecca catches his attention. Once we have refills, she takes a sip, then leans forward. “Show you’re dedicated to the firm and the case and that you can work without supervision. I’ll try to schedule the meetings first thing in the morning to mitigate the seven-hour time difference.”

“And the other complications?”

“Hayden is one, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. More in terms of your selection as partner. That will be decided long before the case is finished. But he’ll push for every plum he can pluck. The other is that because of the election cycle, Greenberg is pushing to get this cleared up or buried quickly. News of the pending charges will hit the papers tomorrow.”

Why haven’t they leaked already?

Rebecca must be a mind reader. “The papers are planning front-page splashes with stories, commentary, and reactions on at least two inside pages.”

I can picture the Tribune. Huge headline and photos on their broadsheet front page. Stories about the investigation, the campaign, lots of background on the candidate, a piece where the rest of the field comments. Then an editorial on the op-ed pages. Maybe a political cartoon. The Sun-Times tabloid format will be just as comprehensive in a more compact form. “Collusion?”

“Cooperation.” Her forehead wrinkles, brows touching. The corners of her mouth turn down.

“Keeping him from making incendiary comments is going to be a job in itself. We want as little coverage as possible while we work on clearing him—if we can. The damage to his reputation is a gift to the other contenders. He’s been the front runner, the poster boy for the party.”

In two swallows, the Jabberwock has disappeared. I order another, then cram more cheese into my mouth.

“Hey, guys. Didn’t get the memo.” Hayden pushes into the tufted leather booth and reaches for a pickle, almost knocking me to the floor. “Uncle Tyler thought you might be here, Rebecca. Said it’s your usual watering hole.”

“A casual afterwork drink.” Rebecca’s voice is flat.

Hayden reaches over and taps her legal pad. “Sure you aren’t strategizing?” The twinkle in his eye shows malice, not amusement. “By the way, I met Laney this afternoon. She’s a cutie.”

“Laney?” The name is unfamiliar.

With a leer, he says, “Our legal researcher. Fresh out of her paralegal program.”

The server comes by with my third drink.

“Are you running a tab?”

Rebecca nods.

“Two Satan’s Whiskers. Need to play catch up with these two.” His smirk makes my skin crawl.

“How appropriate.”

He snickers. My snarky comment bounces off his crocodile hide.

Before the drinks guy can take off, I hold up a hand. “I’d like to order something to go.”

Pad out, he looks a bit like a bird, head to the side.

“Shrimp cocktail with no sauce, and the Apple Salad. Just put the shrimp on top of the salad with the dressing on the side.”

“You got it.”

Hayden puffs out his chest like a pouter pigeon. “Me, I have a date as soon as I finish these truly spectacular drinks.”

“Drinks named just for you.”

He grins. “You know it. Scary but seductive. And I have some seducing on tap.”

Probably with our new researcher. I push the sour feelings back. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

Rebecca’s warning look doesn’t make any impression either. She grabs her coat off the empty seat. “Off to have dinner with my hubby. He’s cooking tonight.”

I trudge to the office, takeout container in hand, ready for a little research of my own.

***

Excerpt from At the Ready by Sharon Michalove. Copyright 2023 by Sharon Michalove. Reproduced with permission from Sharon Michalove. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Sharon Michalove

Sharon Michalove writes romantic suspense and traditional mystery as well as being a published historian. After growing up in suburban Chicago, she spent most of her life in a medium-sized university town, working as an academic professional as well as teaching history. She was married to a composer and frequently uses her knowledge of music, history, and food to enrich her novels. A hockey fan, Sharon moved back to Chicago in 2017 so she could go to Blackhawks games and spend quality time at Eataly Chicago.

Catch Up With Sharon:
CoffeeAndEclairs.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @sdmichalove
Instagram – @sdmichaloveauthor
Twitter – @sdmichalove
Facebook – @sharonmichalove
AllAuthor – @sharonmichalove

 

 

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Giveaway – Cusp Of Redemption by Olivia Preya @XpressoTours #cuspofredemption #olivia preya

Cusp of Redemption
Olivia Preya
(The Cusp Series, #2)
Publication date: August 28th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Crime, Romance

Salvatore de Marco

It was always about her.
Taking care of her.
Making sure she had everything she needed.
School. Apartment. Living expenses.
I took care of it all. For her.
And I’ll never regret the decisions I made to keep the smile on her face.

But she left me once, and I’ll be damned before I let her leave again. As the Cafarelli family enforcer, I can provide her with more than I could before–money and protection. I’ll do everything in my power to protect her from whatever demon made her run the first time. But what if it turns out the demon was me?
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that our connection is undeniable; I can feel how hot she is for me.
Even if she won’t admit it.
Yet.

Naya Okpara

It took a long time to get to where I am now.
From foster kid to private investigator, I do whatever it takes to get the job done.
Even if that means working for the Cafarelli family.

I thought he was long gone—a distant memory tainted by a figure from our past. But time and distance did nothing to ease my hunger for his touch. Nor did it erase the betrayals that shattered me.
When the man who lights my skin on fire appears before me, I’m forced to face the realities I spent years avoiding. Now, Salvatore and I are working for the same family, and I can’t let the connection of our past ruin my future.

But what if he is my future?

Cusp of Redemption is book two of the Cusp series but can be read as a standalone. It has a guaranteed HEA, swoon-worthy anti-hero, and badass heroine. This is an interracial mafia romance containing explicit sex scenes, graphic violence, and is recommended for readers 18+.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“If you wanted me to hunt you down, all you had to do was ask.” I muffled a scream with my hand as Salvatore’s deep voice startled me from his place at my tiny kitchen table. “But from now on, each and every chase will end with you on your back.”

“What the fuck?” I snapped, barely able to comprehend the scene in front of me. With only two barstools and a round surface barely large enough for a pizza box, Salvatore somehow seemed to make himself at home despite dwarfing the area.

He wore a gray sweatsuit, a complete contrast to the suit from last night, but by the grace of some god, he looked even more delicious. His hoodie pulled across his broad chest and defined his shoulder muscles. My eyes traveled up his thick neck and to his mouth where a mischievous smirk curved his mouth.

A glint of light brought my gaze down to his hand fiddling with…a knife?

Salvatore gave me a slow once-over that made me contemplate hopping back in the shower—for a cold one this time. His dark eyes held me captive, taking in every inch of my being at a leisurely pace. An appreciative glint shone in his eyes.

I took the time to look at him. Really look at him. His dark hair cropped short and connected to his perfectly sculpted beard. With high cheekbones and full lips, he’d make a killing as one of those models on the cover of romance books. Especially with the jagged scar running from the middle of his right eyebrow straight down to an inch or so below his cheekbone, he was a sight to behold. While I couldn’t see his torso, there wasn’t a sliver of doubt in my mind his abs were as defined as the rest of him. My mouth watered at the memory of how hard he was as I flopped over his shoulder.

Salvatore and I had stumbled across each other’s paths a few times over the past year, and I was just as captivated and entranced by him as ever. Each time seemed to make the pull even stronger. The way his presence drew me to him was infuriating. And right now was the first time we’d been alone and so close since we last saw each other ten years ago.

But the physical attraction was undoubtedly still there.

He was bigger than before. More demanding. More dominating in his presence.

And my body couldn’t get enough. But I had to keep reminding my brain there was a reason we weren’t together anymore. He left me. I’d need to chant that mantra every time we were together.

“Diana Diamond has nothing on you.” Salvatore rumbled, his voice caressed me from head to toe and dripped in appreciation. He was referring to yesterday’s disguise. I resisted the urge to preen. I would not fuss over my appearance. It didn’t matter what Salvatore thought of me. He didn’t matter.

Although, I was mildly pleased by the fact he was alive. I didn’t like the guy, but I didn’t want him dead either.

Yet.

He sat, absently flipping the knife back and forth between his fingers. The metal glinted in the morning light. “Are you trying to intimidate me with your little knife show?”

He glanced down, mildly surprised. “Habit,” he said simply before flipping the blade down and tucking it in his pocket. “I hardly believe a knife would be enough to intimidate you.”

He stood and slowly stalked closer to me.

“And what do you think intimidates me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He was right, I picked up skills over the years to outmaneuver a knife. But he didn’t know that.

I held my ground as he came toe to toe with me. I had to crane my neck to look him in the eye. His presence was overbearing, the spicy scent of his cologne flooding my senses. I licked my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement. “You need something more physical. Skin on skin. Overbearing. The full weight of a man pressing you down to submit. You wouldn’t give in to something as meager as a piece of metal.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, hating how he read me so well. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I couldn’t resist darting my tongue out to lick my lips. The image of him pressing me into a bed flashed before me and I nearly choked on the need that coursed through my veins and pooled in my core.

A ghost of a smile wafted on his face, breaking the spell. I stepped to the side and out of his intoxicating presence.

Salvatore closed his eyes briefly and took a deep inhale before shifting, so we were facing each other once again.

Wait.

“You broke into my house?” I whisper-yelled, remembering I never invited him in. I didn’t even know he knew where I lived and as much as I wanted to cuss him out, I was worried about the thin walls and curious neighbors.

“You stole my car.” He shrugged.

Author Bio:

Olivia Preya is a romance fanatic and author living in Toronto, Canada. She writes about what she loves—love, spice, and panty-dropping men with a soft spot for the love of their lives. When life gets a little tough or bland, she finds that fictional men are the best medicine.

Olivia considers herself to have two personas, like Wonder Woman, but with a pen––corporate marketing specialist by day and spicy romance author by night. She also likes to embrace all forms of sensuality, from pole dancing and erotic novels to good food; she believes that sometimes the best things in life are a little sinful.

Website / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok


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Giveaway – Psycho Therapy by T G Wolff @partnersincr1me @tg_wolff

Psycho Therapy

by TG Wolff

July 31 – August 25, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Diamond. One name for a woman who is faking it until she makes it. And she will make it. At least that’s what she’s telling herself.

Dr. Robin Ransom is a therapist to first responders, cops, and spies. She has a problem. She is being blackmailed via email by a nameless, faceless crook. Things go from bad to worse when the neighbor who helped deal with the threat is found dead and her newest patient tries water boarding her for information on the enigmatic Blue Devil. With no good options, she makes a desperate attempt at escape.

Diamond is a former CIA agent turned widow turned somebody whose services are most definitely not for hire. As she is struggling to figure out what is next for her, an intriguing case falls practically in her lap. From a video gaming Beastmaster in Michigan, to a suicide bomber in Virginia, to a psychiatric conference in the south of France, Diamond jumps in with her usual flair for destruction and chaos. But Fate isn’t satisfied, pushing Diamond into a position where it is either her or the person she cares for most.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Down & Out Books
Publication Date: July 2023
Number of Pages: 247
ISBN: B0C4QW26H3
Series: Diamond Mystery, 3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Down & Out Books

Read an excerpt:

Irish found me a hot therapist. To show my appreciation, I wouldn’t kill him.

Just maim him a little.

“Odd doesn’t begin to describe it.” I put my hands out to him. “So, what do you say?”

“Why don’t we leave those as is for now.” He leaned against the bathroom doorframe and gestured with a hand toward the couch. “You’re early.”

“I shouldn’t be here at all.” I went to the couch because I couldn’t stay bent over his moving boxes. “Call me Diamond, all the cool kids do. I don’t need to be here.”

“We should be able to wrap this up quickly then. No point in kicking a dead horse, now is there?”

“Exactly, I’m glad we—wait, are you insinuating that I’m a lost cause?”

“No, no, of course not. It’s a metaphor. It’s one of those parts of speech you Americans endlessly bastardize without understanding its linguistic origins. You, for example, have closed your mind to therapy. Ergo, your mind is a dead horse. Any attempt on my part to alter, change, or inform your perceptions is a waste of energy much in the same way of kicking a dead horse to get it to move. In short, no matter how hard I kick you, you are not going anywhere.”

I stood, flashing my charming smile. “There is a difference between being dead and playing dead. The first is confining, the latter liberating. As for kicking me, well, I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself. I understand your limitations. After all, those who can, do. Those who can’t, hang diplomas on the wall.”

He pulled his long body from its reclined position. “Are you suggesting I’m a fraud?”

“Not at all. I’m suggesting you’re a failure. Being a failure is not the same as being a fraud. It’s not your fault. Being ordinary is a handicap that can be overcome with delusions of grandeur and copious amounts of whiskey.”

“And you’re extraordinary? Please. I’ve met pigeons more unique than you. Look at yourself. Where do you shop? NYPD Blue wardrobe surplus?”

I rolled my eyes. “Elton John called and asked you return the shirt you stole.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Smart. Vicious. Enjoys a good fight. Thinks she’s unique when she is of the buy one, get two free variety. Poor baby. Life didn’t live up to your expectations?”

I mimicked his position. Well, I tried to, zip ties cramped my style. I settled for resting my hands on my hip. “That’s a mirror you’re looking in. Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re not the only one who ekes out a living getting people to pay you for your attention. At least you get to keep your pants on.”

“Silk pants on. Only the best. When did the nightmares start?”

“I…”

“Don’t bother denying it. The circles under your eyes and lack of witty repartee are classic signs of sleep deprivation. How long has it been since you slept through the night? A month? Six months? Tell me about the nightmares.”

“I don’t have nightmares,” I snapped. “I don’t dream at all.” Immediately, I knew I had lost. I’d revealed too much. “And if I did, I could handle it.”

He sat down at his desk, pulling a few sheets of paper in front of him. He slashed across the top with a green pen. “Goodbye, Lucy Nutcase. Hello, Diamond.” He scribbled my name, then looked up. “Last name.”

“Tiara,” I said sarcastically, and the bastard wrote it.

He began reading. “Dead husband. Hmm. Hmm. Car chase. Pyrotechnics. Hmm. Baseball?”

“You had to be there.” I left the couch to creep up on his desk. The page was filled with printed text and comments in the same green ink.

Reckless.

Rash.(Doesn’t that mean the same thing?)

No regard for life.

Suicidal tendencies.

He looked up, pinning me with his gaze. “Care to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Fine. I don’t have time anyway.” He bent to a box behind the desk and began unpacking. “If you don’t have the stomach to deal with your issues, then you might as well kill yourself. Do it quickly and leave the air for the rest of us.”

I…He…Did he really? “You can’t tell people to kill themselves. That’s malpractice.”

He stacked books on the glass desktop. “Sue me. Oh wait, you’re gonna be dead. Haunt me. I’ve always wanted a pet ghost.”

“Maybe I have a good reason to want to die.”

“You’re taking up air.”

“Maybe I—”

“Bloody hell,” he said sharply. He turned, crossed the room in three long strides, and spun me toward the door. “I don’t have time for this. Out with you.”

I sidestepped right. “I thought I had an hour.”

“Had. Past tense.” He grasped my shoulders and steered me left again. “Your time is up.”

I planted a boot on the wall. “Oh no, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.” He put his shoulder into it, sweeping my leg, and sending me tumbling into the hallway. “Take two aspirin and don’t call me in the morning.”

Door slam.

“What the fuck?” I sprang to my feet and tried the door. It was locked from the inside. I pounded on the fucking beige panels. “Open. Up.” It’s not that I wanted back in, ’cause I did not want to talk to Dr. Robin Ransom, but nobody turns Diamond out like a cat at night. “I’m not through talking to you!”

“Yes, you are,” Ransom said, his voice muffled by an inch and a half of engineered wood. “Bloody nutter.”

“Bloody nutter? I’ll show him who’s nutters.” I would just circle around to the reception room and kick his ass with my hands tied together. Now, to get back. The hallway was a one-way trip to a staircase, which opened onto the parking lot. Irish was sitting in his SUV with the motor running, windows up. I kicked his door, startling the self-proclaimed super spy.

He shoved the door open and got in my face. “What the hell are you doing here? You still have forty-five minutes.”

“Your therapist is psycho. What did you expect from someone named Robin? Cut me loose. Now. I’m going to kick his ass using number eighteen.”

Irish pulled a knife from his pocket. “Hold still. You cut yourself. How hard were you pulling? And what do you mean ‘he’? Ransom is a she.”

“I shouldn’t have had to pull at all. And Ransom is definitely a he. A hot he, as if you didn’t know.”

“She’s a she.” He cut through the zip tie. “I know a woman when I see one.”

An unnatural noise drew our attention to the second floor. A woman was awkwardly climbing over one of the balconies. Her hands were bound behind her back and tape covered her mouth.

“We can’t get to her in time,” Irish said. Both of us saw the resolve in the woman’s face. She was gonna jump.

***

Excerpt from Psycho Therapy by TG Wolff. Copyright 2023 by TG Wolff. Reproduced with permission from TG Wolff. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

TG Wolff

TG Wolff writes mysteries for people who love to solve puzzles. Her books feature characters in situations mirroring the complexities of real life and real people, balanced with a healthy dose of entertainment. TG Wolff co-host Mysteries to Die For podcast with her son, Jack Wolff. She holds a Master’s Degree in Civil Engineering and is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime.

Catch Up With TG Wolff:
TGWolff.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @TG_Wolff
Instagram – @tg_wolff
Twitter – @tg_wolff
Facebook

 

 

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Giveaway – Total Eclipse Of The Moon by Zoe Forward @XpressoTours

Total Eclipse of the Moon
Zoe Forward
(The Crown’s Wolves, #3)
Publication date: August 21st 2023
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

If he doesn’t break the curse tying him and his brothers to the Crown of England as paranormal terrorist hunters, they’ll be forced to execute him.

An accidental demon possession erodes Shane Lanzo’s sanity. Sometimes he’s in control. Sometimes not. His only hope is the witch who cast the curse, which is a problem. The last two times he approached her, the feisty enchantress somehow tamed the demon inside him, but rendered him useless against his desire for her.

Madeline Edney sucks at being a witch. Her casting the curse on the lycan brothers was a fluke, and it destroyed her life. She’s been hunted by the Crown ever since to make sure she doesn’t try to undo the curse. She never expected Shane to find her so easily. He’s a temptation that promises zinger chemistry, her absolute weakness. One taste was gratifying. Two was foolish. Three has become an addiction. Lifting the curse requires she forfeit her life, but if the hunters kill her, it leaves Shane at the mercy of the Crown. Either way she dies.

Shane has a choice: freedom for his family, risking Madeline in the process or a chance at happiness with the witch who fated his brothers as prisoners for eternity.

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EXCERPT

“You feel this between us? It’s magnetic.” Her eyes shone with eagerness in the dim light from the single overhead lightbulb.

“I don’t feel anything.” Desire hot and thick made his hands shake. “If you’re weaving a spell on me, stop.” The one defining goal of the past few decades had been to hate this woman for what she’d done to him and his brothers, and to make her pay.

What was wrong with him? Why did he hesitate now that she was right here?

“Shane?”

He gritted out, “Yes?”

“You don’t look well. There’s something odd about your eyes.” She leaned close to squint at him.

“What do you want from me to reverse the curse?”

“Curse removal is complicated.”

Her scent, something citrusy and fresh, floated up his nose and aggravated his arousal further. She whispered, “I don’t understand what it is that draws me to you. Witches and lycans don’t mix, not just because our species warred for hundreds of years. It’s…we’re too different. With our complicated history this shouldn’t be here.”

“The curse.” Shane’s heart thrashed to the point his ribs hurt.

“That’s what makes this complicated.” She reached out but didn’t touch his skin this time. She blushed and lowered her gaze. For all her power, there was a vulnerability in the move that made Shane want to offer her a safe haven. He inherently sensed goodness in people and detected those in need of help. His kryptonite was someone good in genuine distress. Like her.

She wasn’t good. Couldn’t be. She’d screwed him and his brothers over for almost fifty years.

But something was wrong with her. Very wrong. Despite all she’d done to him in the past, he perceived her to be in danger, which melted his determination to be tough with her.

“You despise me for what I did. I’ve survived worse than your hate. I won’t apologize for the choices I had to make. Someday, perhaps you’ll forgive me?”

“Doubt it.”

“I deserve that.” She ran a finger across his lips. He sucked in a breath. “Do you want me to kiss you? Just so you know what it’s like? So you don’t have to wonder anymore? I’ve wondered.”

Shane glanced out the window.

She sighed. “There’s no one out there who will judge you for having a weak moment with a witch.”

Hells bells. She was right. He wanted a taste. With a trembling hand, he touched her chin. “You’re not just any witch. We can’t do this.”

“That’s not what you want,” she breathed out. “You want to kiss me, right?”

Shane lowered his mouth to hers. “Yes.”


Author Bio:

USA Today bestselling author, parent, wife, veterinarian, chocolate lover. Author of spicy paranormal and contemporary romances. Zoe Forward brings readers the perfect combination of action adventure, romance, humor and a bit of magic.

Her novels have won numerous awards including the Prism, Readers’ Choice Heart of Excellence, Golden Quill, Carolyn Readers Choice Award, and the Booksellers’ Best Award.

You can find her residing in the South with a menagerie of four-legged beasts and two wild kids.

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Giveaway – Hungry Is The Night by Robin Jeffrey @XpressoTours @TheSidekick

Hungry is the Night
Robin Jeffrey
(The Night Series, #1)
Publication date: August 22nd 2023
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

The werewolves of the world live in tight knit gangs, or “dens”, for protection from outsiders – and each other. Every major metropolis has one; to belong to a den is to have a family for eternity. However, Grace Holtz, next in line to lead the Seattle den called The Nameless, has had enough of living under the crushing weight of her den’s expectations. Having fled to a small, rural town in southeast Oregon, her goal is to blend in and be as “normal” as possible for the rest of her unnaturally long life.

But Marcus Bowen, a wolf from the UK-based Feóndulf den (and the closest thing Grace has ever had to a lover), has other plans. Reappearing thirty years after their affair came to an abrupt and bloody end, Marcus needs Grace. He needs her to return to Seattle and arrange an audience with Mama, the current leader of The Nameless and Grace’s estranged grandmother. The leader of the Feóndulf and his heir have both been brutally murdered, and Marcus suspects that Grace and Mama are next.

Teaming up to hunt for the killer in the Emerald City, the pair slowly begin to realize their romance may not be as dead as they thought. However, as it becomes clear that the person they’re looking for holds secrets about both their dens, Marcus and Grace must grapple with competing loyalties, conflicting desires, and ultimately decide what matters more: their dens or each other.

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EXCERPT:

The sensation of his lips against mine rippled through me like a shot of whiskey, warming and intoxicating, setting my blood dancing while at the same time making me shiver. When he reciprocated the gesture, when he reached out to hold my cheek with trembling fingers and shifted against my lips without withdrawing, the tight coil of control in my chest unraveled. I took a step forward, my body flush against his, and lifted my hands to grip at Marcus’ shoulders with a possessiveness I barely recognized.

Marcus mimicked my stance, but instead of pulling me closer, he took a step back, breaking the kiss with a small gasp. My eyes flickered open.

While he shook his head, Marcus’ eyes remained closed as he whispered, “Grace, we shouldn’t—”

“Marcus.” His eyes opened wide at the sound of his name. I gave a weak smile and lifted my hand to his face, trailing my thumb across his lower lip. “Don’t be so stupid as to make the same mistake twice.”

He blinked at me once, then twice. The corners of his mouth shot down into a frown and his hands dropped from my shoulders to my hips. He pulled me against his body while quietly whispering, “Ah, sod it, then,” before kissing me hard.

I answered in kind, my hands skittering unmoored across first his jaw, then his shoulders, then his sides, then his chest. I deepened the kiss with a flick of my tongue at his bottom lip, a teasing, tentative request that Marcus answered with unabashed eagerness, opening his mouth to my explorations.

Slowly at first, then in a progressively frantic tumble, I pulled Marcus back into my room toward the bed. I kicked off my shoes as I went, running the tip of my tongue along the top of his palate. He tried desperately to keep pace with me, capturing my lower lip between his teeth and biting down, not too hard, but just hard enough. Still, there was hesitation in his movements. No longer content with the skin available to my hands, I began easing his shirt up and over his body. Marcus tried to register a verbal protest, but it was lost in the crush of our mouths. It wasn’t until I relinquished his lips and began lavishing attention on his neck that he was able to say anything at all.

As soon as his mouth was free of mine, he breathed my name imploringly, caressing my back and shoulders through my thin sweatshirt. “Grace…”

“Don’t worry,” I answered, my words muffled as I pressed my lips against his carotid artery, my wandering hands pushing up under the hem of his T-shirt, fingers dancing over the newly exposed flesh at his side. “I’ll take care of you.”


Author Bio:

When Robin Jeffrey isn’t checking out books to students at the academic library where she works, she can be found cranking out punchy flash fiction, lyrical essays, and world-rich romances. Her writing has been published in magazines across the country and around the world. She currently calls the Pacific Northwest of the United States home, where she lives happily with her husband and their out of control comic book collection. She currently resides in the rainy Pacific Northwest. More of her work can be found on her website, RobinJeffreyAuthor.com.

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Giveaway – Phantom Fire by Delta James @xpressotours

Phantom Fire
Delta James
(Winged Warriors, #1)
Publication date: August 18th 2023
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

A night of passion and a positive pregnancy test will change everything.

Kessily Campbell, a rising star environmental lawyer, was not looking for a relationship when she met the mysterious Falkor at a conference. The attraction was instantaneous and powerful. She didn’t have time for commitment in her life so, she invited him to her room for a fun evening. When Kessily discovers she is pregnant, she must face the realities that come with this new life.

Falkor, dragon and alpha of the Phantom Fire, would lose too much if he committed to a woman. Tradition stated when a member of the Phantom Fire found their eternal flame they were to give up their position and immortality. In addition, they had to pledge their first-born son to the Winged Warriors when he reached age. There are not many human women who are willing to accept those terms.

As the head lawyer on an important case involving the Wind River Mountains, Kessily is very busy. Walking into a meeting with her boss to meet a new co-plaintiff, she is shocked to realize that Falkor will be joining her legal team. Now she has to figure out how to tell him he’s going to be a father in the next seven months.

As the trial heats up so does their relationship. Their relationship is tested as they fight to find a path forward. Will they be able to reach a compromise that will benefit everyone? Find out in this passionate and suspenseful tale of love and responsibility.

If you enjoy romantic suspense books by K.C. Crowne and Lillian Monroe you’ll love this story of a passionate night that changes everything.

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EXCERPT:

Along about dusk, she had her usual campsite within reach. As she rounded the corner, she realized it was in use. The woman emerging out of the bright orange tent smiled as she spotted Kessily and raised her hand.

“Hello, sister,” she called. She was dressed in jeans and a pretty sweater with Native American-inspired artwork intricately woven into the sweater. Her jeans were tucked into traditional moccasins instead of hiking boots.

Kessily looked all around her to see to whom the woman was referring.

The woman laughed. “Yes, I mean you. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You have? Do we know each other?” Kessily asked as she reached into her pocket for the bear spray—if it could drop a grizzly, surely it could drop a medium-sized female.

“There is no need for violence or confusion. I am known as She Who Listens.”

“What do you listen to?” asked Kessily.

“To all the living things. They speak to me.”

Curious, Kessily moved closer. “What do they tell you?”

“Many things. For instance, they say you are on a great quest.”

Kessily smiled and approached her. There didn’t seem to be any reason not to. “I’m hiking up to the Cauldron of Fire.”

“Ah, it is the dragon you seek. He searches for you, as well.”

Okay, so the woman is a little bit crackers. Perhaps I’ll move along and hope she doesn’t follow.

“You think I’m not right in the head, but I am. There is a reason you feel at peace when you are within sight of the Cauldron. It is because he is there and has been waiting. He will come to you and you will bear his child.”

“I’m not quite sure how to tell you this,” Kessily said, politely, “but it is next to impossible for me to get pregnant. I have something called PCOS. It will prevent me from ever having children.”

“Dragon seed is strong. I can prove to you that what I say is true.”

“Short of producing a dragon, I don’t think that’s possible. But you have yourself a nice day.”

Kessily turned to leave, and she heard the woman scurrying back into her tent. She didn’t think anything good could come of that. She picked up her pace and began to put as much distance between herself and the mad woman as she possibly could. When the sound of the woman exiting her tent and starting after her reached her ears, Kessily broke into a run.

“Wait, sister! I mean you no harm,” the woman said as her hand closed around Kessily’s upper arm and spun her around. In her hands was a large deck of ornate cards. “Pick one.”

“No, thanks. I have friends waiting and want to get to them before they start to worry.”

The woman frowned and shook her head. “No, you don’t. There is no one who waits for you. Pick a card. Listen to the message the gods send to you, and I will leave you in peace. I am nothing more than their messenger. When you have listened, I will go.”

The woman held out the deck of cards, and hesitantly Kessily started to pick one but glanced at the woman’s face to see if there was any indication that she wanted her to pick a specific card. There was nothing. This woman would be hard to beat in a poker game. Her expression showed no emotion whatsoever.

“Pick.”

Kessily withdrew a card and handed it to the woman, who smiled. “You chose the silver dragon of imagination, possibility, and self-discovery.”

Looking at the card, all Kessily could see was a silver dragon flying high over the peaks of a set of mountains that looked oddly familiar. The sky above it was midnight blue with shining stars that cast their light on the snow-capped peaks.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Kessily asked.

“It is not I who speaks to you, but the dragon lord who will claim you. I wish you well, sister.” The woman turned around and returned to her campsite.

Wanting to put as much distance between them as possible, Kessily headed up the trail at a fast pace—just short of running. What a nut job. Nice enough, but clearly not quite right in the head.

Author Bio:

As a USA Today bestselling romance author, Delta James aims to captivate readers with stories about complex,curvy heroines and the dominant alpha males who adore them. For Delta, romance is more than just a love story; it’s a journey with challenges and thrills along the way.

After creating a second chapter for herself that was dramatically different than the first, Delta now resides in Florida where she relaxes on warm summer evenings with her loveable pack of basset hounds as they watch the birds, squirrels and lizards. When not crafting fast-paced tales, she enjoys horseback riding, walks on the beach, and white-water rafting.

More about Delta, including a full list of her books and audiobooks, can be found at www.deltajames.com.

Her readers mean the world to her, and Delta tries to interact personally to as many messages as she can. If you’d like to chat or discuss books, you can find Delta on Instagram, Facebook, and in her private reader group https://www.facebook.com/groups/348982795738444.

If you’re looking for your next bingeable series, you can get a FREE story by joining her newsletter https://www.subscribepage.com/VIPlist22019.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter


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Giveaway – Smash Smash Smash by Philip Fairbanks @partnersincr1me

Smash, Smash, Smash: The True Story of Kai the Hitchhiker by Philip Fairbanks Banner

Smash, Smash, Smash:

The True Story of Kai the Hitchhiker

by Philip Fairbanks

August 7 – September 1, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

“That woman was in danger, so I ran up behind him with a hatchet… Smash, smash, SUH-MASH!!!”

Millions of people heard these words and shared the viral video with their friends. This mysterious surfing hitchhiker then vanished as quickly as he appeared, only to reappear on many late night talk shows and fan videos. But 3 months later, he was arrested and charged with killing a prominent New Jersey lawyer… in self defense against a sex assault.

Who is this mysterious hitchhiker? What was with that lawyer who drugged and assaulted him? Why would the investigators destroy evidence, tamper with witnesses, and shut the public out of the trial?

For almost a decade, the public was kept in the dark: until investigative journalist Philip Fairbanks searched for the truth in mountains of government records, witness statements, and hard evidence. At long last, he found the answers to these burning, aching questions…

And they will surprise you.

Praise for Smash, Smash, Smash: The True Story of Kai the Hitchhiker:

“Phil is not the kind of journalist who files a story and gets on with his life. That passion and integrity shine through in this book, and generally in the way Phil makes you care about the people he’s covering….

When I read this book, as with so many things Phil has written, I feel that I am in good hands, being carefully guided to the truth.”
~ Alissa Fleck
(Newsweek, SF Gate, Houston Chronicle)

“In his latest book, Philip Fairbanks wields a wealth of laboriously earned evidence and detail, the product of five years of research, to tell a harrowing and heartbreaking tale nobody (until him) deemed worthy of telling, and some would rather remain untold….

In his characteristically engaging style and with a dexterous balance of compassion, curiosity, and analysis, the author walks the reader through a hellish nightmare; one that Kai was born into and in which he continues to exist.”
~ Wendy Painting, PhD
(Author, Aberration in the Heartland of the Real: The Secret Lives of Timothy McVeigh)

Book Details:

Genre: True Crime
Published by: Is It Wet Yet Press
Publication Date: February 2023
Number of Pages: 456
ISBN: 9781959947998 (ISBN10: 1959947990)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

AUTHOR’S NOTE

It’s been about five years since my first article about Caleb McGillivary was published in The Inquisitr. Not long after that, I conducted a series of telephone interviews. I was taken aback by how implausible the inherent corruption was: evident in multiple conflicts of interest; and an apparent cover-up during the investigation, that was allowed to go practically unchallenged from the prosecutor’s mouth to the media. All that ugliness nakedly on display surely should have attracted a frenzy of media interest.

Over the years, a sickening realization came to mind. As far as reporters covering the case, I seem to be one of the “experts” if not “an authority.” Certainly, one of the few, if not only, journalists who took the time to check Kai’s claims and allegations against the evidence at hand. It might be kind of nice being a leading authority on some benign subject. Rare arthropods, maybe? I could dig being a foremost authority on some obscure Flemish Renaissance-era painter’s oeuvre, for sure. The gravity of the situation can be almost overwhelming, though, when your expertise is on a subject about which a human life hangs in the balance.

So, you can imagine my mixed feelings when a production company known for prestige projects approached me with the idea of using some of my work in a film for one of the “Big 3” streaming companies.

I was flattered, of course. Probably the first in a wave of emotions to come up. The thought that Kai’s words, from calls I’d recorded, might achieve a bit of immortality. Even better, the prospect that the film could make a difference. Something like The Thin Blue Line, one of the most important and influential works in the entirety of the corpus of “True Crime.” Like Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, it is a work that somehow manages to both define and transcend the boundaries of “True Crime.”

After a few rounds of emails, a call was set up. Everyone I had dealt with was pleasant and nice, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being purposefully put at ease. For what reasons I couldn’t tell. Hell, I couldn’t even tell if I was just being paranoid because of my close connection to the story. Admittedly compounded by the investment of time, work, and emotional energy I’d put into it for some years. They understood that I might be quite attached to the story (specifically to the “materials” they wished me to license for their use). And of course, the more I thought about it, the more worried I was about the misrepresentation of my work or Kai himself and the case.

And to be honest, attached is not the right word for this case, or for another case I’ve been working on for the past few years. The second involved a decades- long running fraud ring connected to multiple murders. I finally managed to get some interest from journalist Alissa Fleck (Newsweek, SF Gate, Houston Chronicle, Huffington Post, Adweek, and others). Apart from her, I’d struggled to get any other reporters or outlets to even take a look. That or being ghosted after some initial interest is shown. The situation is similar to the work of Justine Barron, another noteworthy journalist who pursues cases wherever they lead. Whether or not the major papers are interested in doing due diligence themselves. For whatever reason, there are incredibly important stories that are suppressed, sometimes for years. Just look at how Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Peter Nygard, and others managed to float along all those years.

With Kai’s case and that of the Texas-based Ponzi ring, I’ve spent years researching and tracking down the truth. In the hopes of holding it to the light. I also got to know the living, breathing humans that exist at the other end of the story. Many of my biggest stories are the smallest ones. For me, success is exposing some injustice or imbalance. Some wrong to be righted. For instance, the honor student nearly expelled over doctor-recommended CBD oil being mistaken for THC oil by an ignorant school administration. The case of a young man selling the herbal plant medicine kratom in Tennessee. A story I covered that would be a turning point in the war for kratom legality in the state. Shortly after the case, the attorney general expressed a formal opinion that the plant was not included in a blanket synthetic drug ban. The couple arrested with kratom in their car. Initially charged with distributing heroin. Their life and small business thrown into disarray as a result. These are stories no one else was telling, or at least not in totality.

In each of those above cases, an eventual positive outcome would be achieved. Even if the only thing I was able to do was to provide some hope to victims of outrageous fortune. To make sure their stories were heard. The result was something I could—and do— take seriously. Something I take pride in. It’s rewarding to have achieved success (by Emerson’s standards anyway) by having made someone breathe a little easier, having made their life a little less hard for the day.

In Kai’s case, the stakes are too high. Not to mention the evidence of corruption is so ample and readily available to just leave it be.

So yes, I suppose that at the very least you could say I was a little “attached” to the story. In my first email back to the production company, I pointed out that I was the sole, or nearly only, source of several salient points of information about the case. That these claims were backed up by evidence released in discovery: crime scene photos, investigative notes, and interviews. They too had read the entirety of the available transcripts, they told me. However, they warned me, that they wouldn’t be “focusing” on the trial or the investigation.

That would be a totally different documentary, they said. My dream of an Errol Morris-style hit film freeing an innocent man were, if not dashed at this point, precariously hanging by a thread like a loose tooth spinning, barely affixed to the gum. So here it was. My Catch-22. My very own Faustian bargain. And though it has been quite a while since I’ve read Goethe, I almost certainly recall there being no section on freeing one’s soul from the grips of Mephistopheles come in the guise of a documentary materials release form. I knew I had no place to tell them what should or should not be in the documentary. That would be, not only in bad taste but a violation of journalistic ethics on my part. That said, I made it clear I would gladly sign over usage rights if they could make sure to include at least a handful of those major facts that point to the cover-up and, dare I say it, yes, a conspiracy that had taken place. It was then made plain and simple to me. The best possible way to get that information, Kai’s side of the story, on the books for them would be to let him speak. Kai had declined involvement with the documentary before they spoke to me, however, and they only used people “directly related” to stories in their documentaries which counted me out.

As it turns out, my fears of potentially making a deal with the devil were unfounded. A producer at the company informed me just as they were going into post-production that they were using other material “to lay out Kai’s defense.” Despite my precautions and concerns, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed after hoping that a tangential connection to a major documentary and my name in the credits might help me get this story the attention it deserves.

No worries, though. The interviews that were licensed for and would have appeared in the documentary were transcribed and will be available online. Links to the recordings on YouTube will be there as well as links to all relevant files, court documents, crime scene photos, and more both in cloud storage and at bit.ly/kaidocs and philfairbanks.com.

Kai is at the center of the book, but at the same time the book is about how his case is just one of many examples. That’s the scary part. If his case was some crazy exception that’d be awful still; but what’s so chilling is we know about this case only because he was mistaken for someone who wasn’t well known. Galfy wanted a vagrant, somebody who could be used and discarded, someone with no ties; he chose wrong but even so, they were able to do this.

Now imagine if you don’t have worldwide press coverage of your story.

TWO FATEFUL RIDES

It was a chilly but humid day in Fresno, February 1st, 2013.1 Between the time the frigid, overcast skies broke with sunlight until the day would turn to cold, foggy night several lives would be forever changed. It was the day that Jett Simmons McBride picked up a young “home free” hitchhiker. It was the day that Rayshawn Neely would be nearly crippled. And it was the day that Caleb McGillivary, better known as “Kai the Hatchet-Wielding Hitchhiker” would become a folk hero to millions across the world. Kai earned his “hatchet-wielding hitchhiker” moniker during that first ride that brought him to the attention of the internet at large. Kai had been picked up by Jett Simmons McBride, a 6-foot-4, nearly 300-pound, 54-yearold man who boasted to Kai about raping a 14-year-old girl in the Virgin Islands just before the chaos he would unleash on that fateful Fresno day. McBride also loudly bragged that he was, in fact, Jesus Christ reincarnated.

* Kai’s legal name is Caleb McGillivary, but some court documents and newspaper stories have his name improperly listed as “McGillvary.”

As a result, he reasoned, he could do anything he wanted. As if to prove his point, he took a sharp turn towards some Pacific Gas & Electric employees doing roadwork outside.

“He’s like, well I’ve come to realize I’m Jesus Christ and I can get away with anything I want to. Watch this, and there’s a whole crew of construction people in front of me and most of them jumped aside and one pinned underneath,” Kai explained in the interview that initially made him a star. “He said ‘I am God. I am Jesus. I was sent here to take all the [racial slurs] to heaven,’” Nick Starkey, one of the PG&E workers on the scene claimed. Neely said he never heard the racial slurs, but something about being the victim of attempted vehicular homicide tends to do a number on one’s memory and focus.

McBride pinned Rayshawn Neely against a vehicle at which point, Kai jumped out to help. McBride also attacked a woman on the scene. Kai shared in his memorable interview how he feared McBride might seriously harm her if he didn’t spring into action. The woman on the scene confirmed that Kai had indeed saved her. As Kai put it, without his fortunate appearance at the scene there would have been “hella lot more bodies.” With Rayshawn dangerously pinned by McBride’s vehicle, Tanya Baker, who was at the scene attempted to help him. At this point, McBride turned on her as well.8

“Like a guy that big can snap a woman’s neck like a pencil stick,” Kai explained why he sprung into action. “So I fucking ran up behind him with a hatchet—smash, smash, suh-mash!”

The interview with Jessob Reisbeck made an instant star out of Kai. Something about the heroic encounter, Kai’s character, and his message of redemption resonated within the public consciousness. “Before I say anything else, I want to say no matter what you’ve done, you deserve respect, even if you make mistakes. You’re lovable and it doesn’t matter your looks, skills, or age, or size or anything. You’re worthwhile… no one can take that away from you.”

February 7, 2013, Jessob Reisbeck caught back up with who he described as a “world-class hero.” Reisbeck, who continues to keep in touch with Kai “found him after 5 or 6 days” to conduct a follow-up interview. Kai’s cheeky humor shined through with portions sounding like an Abbott and Costello bit: “What have you been up to since?” “About 6 foot,” Kai replied. He also admitted he didn’t like the idea of a “stereotypical normal life.” That meant, in part, no 9 to 5 job or smartphone to weigh him down. “Are you aware what you’ve become?” Reisbeck asked. “I’ve seen it.” As for his thoughts on the outpouring of support from all over the country even worldwide, Kai’s response was simply: “Shock and awe.” Asked if he was happy about the exciting new world he’d accidentally entered, his reply was simply, “I’d prefer if I was American, but yeah.”

Jessob asked if there was anything else Kai would like to say to “all of your fans right now, because you do have them around the world.” Kai spurned the hero worship. Instead, he offered another simple, heartfelt message to the many who idolized him since the selfless act. “I do not own you, I do not have you, please do not be obsessed. Thank you, love, respect, I value you.” Within 48 hours of the KMPH interview being released and subsequently going viral, Kai was a household name earning accolades and mentions in media worldwide. Philadelphia magazine called Kai “the hero millennials need” in a February 8th article from 2013.

In the next few days, his star would continue to rise as he was featured in Autotune the News. Kai also released a cover of the song “Wagon Wheel.” An IndieGogo page was also set up to get him a new surfboard. The Philly magazine piece marks Kai as emblematic of the millennial generation, especially following the economic upheaval of the 2008 housing bubble which resulted in severe inflation, higher cost of living, and a recession we still haven’t truly escaped.

Just under three weeks out, Kai had his first day in court, perhaps foreshadowing what was to come in just about three months. He had just appeared on “Jimmy Kimmel Live” and would now be stealing the show during the preliminary hearing against Jett McBride. Despite some of the urban myths surrounding this story, Kai did not kill McBride. McBride had told his wife that Kai was the “coolest son-of-a-bitch” he had ever met. Even expressing a desire to “adopt” the home free hitchhiker. And spurious claims that Kai may have made up the story of underage rape in the Virgin Islands were refuted by McBride himself admitting the act to police on the scene. Kai’s court appearance inspired laughter and spawned headlines further cementing his place as a beloved character to so many. But by the time Jett Simmons McBride was tried in California, Kai was unable to appear. The lack of one of the primary witnesses in attendance likely altered the disposition of the case according to Scott Baly, McBride’s defense attorney. By January 2014, McBride was found guilty on some, but not all charges. The most serious charges, that of attempted murder, would not go through and even the charges he was found guilty of only resulted in psychiatric confinement for a maximum of 9 years. He was sent up to the famous Atascadero State Hospital rather than prison. Atascadero had been home for a time to the likes of serial killers like Tex Watson, Ed Kemper, and Roy Norris among others.

“I won’t say whether it hurt or helped, it affected everything,” Baly told the press. Admitting that he had hoped for acquittal on all charges. “I think there’s mixed emotions for all of us. I mean certainly, I think the moment not guilty on count one was read there was relief; it was followed shortly by a guilty reading on count two and count three so there’s a different feeling on those charges.”

What we can tell for certain, however, is that if not stopped McBride would have almost certainly wreaked far more havoc. According to the case text of the McBride court proceedings, Jett Simmons McBride was laboring under the delusion that he had uncovered a secret terrorist plot that would target the Super Bowl.

At this point, Jett McBride packed his bags to head down to New Orleans for the Super Bowl where he was convinced a bombing would occur. McBride destroyed his phone and tossed the broken remnants of it in a parking lot and some bushes to evade being tracked by the CIA, FBI, and Department of Defense who he was convinced were following his every step.

Before reaching his destination, McBride started noticing that he was being passed by white utility trucks. These were no ordinary trucks, McBride was convinced. They were, to his mind, evidence of the Illuminati following him, on his trail. Intent on killing him. Quite disturbed mentally at this point, McBride stopped in Bakersfield staying the night at the illustrious Vagabond Inn, a motel where he watched television and had some Scotch to wind down. The next day he got back on the road, then picked up a soon-to-be-famous hitchhiker he saw near the on-ramp to northbound State Route 99 not far from the Vagabond.

The hitchhiker introduced himself as Kai and asked McBride if he was heading as far as Fresno. McBride told him that he would be heading through the area on his way to Tacoma. While staying in Bakersfield, he had received messages from his nephew and Donna, his wife, who he was supposed to pick up at the airport. This unexpected intrusion from reality slightly changed his unhinged “attempt at heroism” at the Super Bowl in New Orleans.

It was once they made it into Fresno’s Tower District that Kai offered to pick up some cannabis. Jett McBride handed him $40 after which Kai disappeared into a convenience store, shortly after emerging with a bag of weed and some rolling papers. Kai rolled the joint as McBride, who was unfamiliar with Fresno, began to drive. McBride describes having a “deep” conversation with Kai and eventually extended his hand to the young hitchhiker, leaning over to hug him. “Depressed and distraught” is how he’s described in the court transcript.

The grown man also began crying over his wife. From this point on, it becomes obvious that the story has been doctored somewhat to make McBride look better. Even though it was admitted that McBride began believing that white utility trucks were agents of the Illuminati, it was McGillivary who supposedly said the electrical workers were planting bombs. Of course, it’s quite likely that this was a narrative cooked up by McBride’s attorney, Scott Baly. Considering Kai wouldn’t be able to defend himself or offer his eye-witness testimony, it was possible to try and pin more blame on him to alleviate the well-earned scorn directed at the alleged rapist with his racist slurs and dangerously unhinged conspiracy theories. Despite the reported flurry of racial slurs aimed toward Neely and other minorities at the scene, McBride’s defense claimed that he was “trying to heal Neely.” The defense claims, contrary to what witnesses on the scene have claimed, that McBride “at no time” made any racial statements or used “racial epithets.”

Neely’s reported response to McBride attempting to “heal” the serious and potentially life-threatening injury he was responsible for was something to the tune of, “Get this fucker off of me.” This, once again, ripped straight from McBride’s trial transcript.

The big bear of a man described the flurry of activity, the desperate attempt to put his rampage to a halt. He “thought he was dying” as he felt a knee on his back, someone grabbing his neck, someone pushing him to the ground, a boot in his face. All he claims to recall is saying, “Get off of me.” Around this time, for whatever reason, McBride began to disrobe. He was now convinced he was not only “filled with the Holy Spirit” and an incarnation of Jesus Christ. He was also playing the role of “witness to the end times” (as per Revelations, the two witnesses who would be killed, stripped, and left in the streets for three and a half days).

If the people attacking him, or rather, attempting to slow or stop his assault, in the real world, were to kill him then “they were going to have to drag his body through the street, naked.” Now McBride has decided he’s not just a witness to the end times, Jesus, and filled with the Holy Spirit. He’s also the prophet Enoch. A direct ancestor of Jesus Christ.

McBride, once he had conferred with defense to set the stories straight for the trial, would have little positive to say about Kai. This despite the fact he had earlier referred to him as the “coolest son-of-a-bitch” he had ever met. He had gone from telling his wife Donna that he wanted to adopt Kai to changing his story to Kai being the one jerking the wheel so the vehicle would crush Neely after Donna reported to him how Kai had explained McBride’s stated aim was to “clean all the n****rs out.”

McBride would eventually admit that it was not Kai who had twisted the wheel to pin Neely but did deny that his attack had anything to do with his race. Neely was, McBride claimed, Illuminati. The disorganized thinking of a schizophrenic or person in the throes of a psychotic break is hard to follow.

Perhaps the racial element and the delusion regarding white utility vehicles being secret Illuminati spies were conflated in McBride’s muddled head. Chicago’s ABC7 Action News spoke with some of the victims of McBride’s rampage. Most expressed a hope to fully recover from their injuries and put the whole nightmare behind them, though at least one expressed concern, hoping that McBride wouldn’t find himself released without consequences for his brutal actions.

One popular misconception that has entered Kai the Hitchhiker lore is that Kai killed the deranged, attempted murderer rather than subduing him with the flat end of his hatchet. It probably didn’t help that during the Jimmy Kimmel appearance, the host jokingly thanked Kai for not killing him. Stephen Colbert, currently the host of The Tonight Show, was starring in The Colbert Report on Comedy Central at the time. On the show, Colbert covers the Kai the Hitchhiker story, joking that he has “highway prejudice of my own: against axe-wielding hitchhikers.”

The story played into an already existing urban myth regarding the mythical ax or hatchet or knife-wielding serial killer hitchhiker. The Union County prosecutor and associate of the alleged rapist Joseph Galfy promoted severely damaging disinformation. That, perhaps, Kai was some nefarious serial killer utilizing the highways as his hunting ground. That same prosecutor, by the way, incidentally or coincidentally stepped down, after 11 years, the same day Kai was arrested. Perfect timing if you’d rather not have your recusal on the record.

***

Excerpt from Smash, Smash, Smash: The True Story of Kai the Hitchhiker by Philip Fairbanks. Copyright 2023 by Philip Fairbanks. Reproduced with permission from Philip Fairbanks. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Philip Fairbanks

Philip Fairbanks has been a published writer for over 20 years. Most of his writing has been in the field of entertainment reporting and investigative journalism as well as certain academic subjects. He has appeared multiple times in the CUNY graduate paper The Advocate (who published an article by Fairbanks last June), SUNY art journal Afterimage, Ghettoblaster features, interviews and reviews, UK newspaper The Morning Star, UK lit journal White Chimney, Impose, Delusions of Adequacy, and many more print and online publications have published him.

His first book covered issues such as the Epstein scandal, the Finders cult, online grooming and exploitation of children, and the UK grooming epidemic. He felt it was important to write a book on institutional pedophilia that dispels some of the wild disinfo related to Qanon and Pizzagate. Philip is also a voice actor and narrated the audiobook for the first book and is in the process of recording the audiobook for Smash, Smash, Smash.

Catch Up With Philip Fairbanks:
TrueStoryofKai.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @kafkaguy
Twitter – @kafkaguy
Facebook – @truestoryofkai

 

 

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Giveaway – Fighting For The Truth by A B Medley @xpressotours @ab_medley

Fighting for the Truth
A.B. Medley
(Finding the Truth, #4)
Publication date: August 18th 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

You’ve always been mine to love and to hate…

Small towns have a way of making you face your past.

And there’s two sides to every story.

Hawk and Brittney met as kids in a time when they both needed someone.

Their worlds were already in a state of unrest when an unexpected betrayal stripped them bare.

Words of hate were uttered and promises broken, leaving them bitter enemies.

One is left fighting for the truth, while the other is left with nothing but a dream.

But time and distance can’t separate them forever and fate seemingly intervenes.

Lines blur as they realize things may not have been what they seemed, and old feelings are resurrected.

But amid salvaging their connection comes another fight.

Hawk’s murky past catches up to him and Brittney is thrust in the middle, leaving him no choice but to fight once more to save the girl he realizes he’s always loved.

Even if it means destroying her dreams and wrecking her heart.

Fighting for her is the only thing that matters, and this is one battle he won’t lose.

Winner takes heart.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

EXCERPT:

I lock myself in my apartment still trembling inside. After a moment spent taking a breath, I toss my keys on the kitchen table and put my purse beside them and then find my favorite wine. I start to reach for a glass and decide I don’t need it; the bottle will do.

I plop down on my couch and turn on the television in search of something to take my mind off his hate filled green eyes and the way they mocked me. I rest my head on the back of the couch as I swipe away another tear.

He makes me so angry. And the only reason he’s getting to me this much is because I didn’t bury my feelings deep enough. A mistake I’ll be working on tomorrow. But for now, I’ll let the wine drown him out.

I take my first sip as I hear a knock on my door. Probably Briella. Dang Zander and his big mouth. He didn’t want me to be alone because I was so upset. I’m sure he called her.

I unlock the door and almost scream. Not Briella. “What are you doing here, Hawk? And how do you know where I live?”

He sends me a small smile, but it lacks warmth. “Can I come in? We really do need to talk.”

I step aside so he can enter my apartment. Once inside, I walk back to my living room and take my seat back on the couch. He follows me, casually glancing around before sitting on the other end.

I mute the TV. “Let’s hear it. What other insults and stones are you planning to throw at me?”

He stares directly into my eyes. I can’t stand how he makes my heart race even as I want to hate him.

“I know you don’t trust me. And I haven’t forgotten the fact you hate me. You’re not my favorite person either,” he begins.

I roll my eyes. “Is there a point to this?”

His jaw tightens. “Yes. My point is, you’re going to end up in trouble if you get involved with the Leones in any way. They’ve got it out for me and you’re going to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Why? What did you do? Break a promise to them too?” I ask sharply.

He stands and rakes a hand through his dark hair. “The details aren’t what matter. What matters is they’re trying to hurt me, and they’ll use you to do it.”

I stand and lift my chin to meet his gaze. “Then you’re in the clear. There’s no reason coming for me would hurt you. There’s no love lost between the two of us, remember?”

He surprises me by reaching out and tracing my jaw with his finger. His face seems to soften as he relaxes his knit brows, but his eyes blaze. “I remember everything about you, dolcezza. And that means you’re mine to love or to hate. They know too much about my past, and it includes what you used to mean to me.”

I don’t back down. He started this. He thinks I broke my promise to him. I didn’t. And he’s about to learn the truth the hard way. This will probably make him hate me more, but I can’t find it in me to care how it affects him, or even me right now. He took everything else from me, why shouldn’t he take the only other thing I have left to give?

“Come on then. I’ll fulfill one of my promises to you,” I say confidently.

His eyes widen a fraction, almost as if he already knows what I’ll say next. “What are you talking about?”

“I promised you I’d always be yours, and you just said I’m yours to love or hate, yet you’ve never had me.” I pull my shirt over my head and drop it on the floor. “Take me, Hawk. Go ahead and take what’s yours.”


Author Bio:

A.B. Medley lives in Tennessee with the love of her life and two sons. Her husband stole her heart when she was sixteen and their relationship is one of those meant to be love stories you find in magazines and novels.

She is a dental hygienist who loves to read and has always dabbled in writing. When she’s not making people’s smiles shine, she enjoys belting out songs with her boys, dancing, raspberries, baseball, and anything vintage. Like any proper Tennessean, Sundrop is her drink of choice.

She loves her family and friends fiercely and believes in always chasing your dreams.

Deception in the Truth is her debut novel—but now she’s hooked, and there’s more to come!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub / TikTok


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Giveaway – Devil Within by James L’Etoile @partnersincr1me @JamesLEtoile

Devil Within by James L’Etoile Banner

Devil Within

by James L’Etoile

July 24 – August 18, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The border is a hostile place with searing heat and venomous serpents. Yet the deadliest predator targets the innocent.

A sniper strikes in the Valley of the Sun and Detective Nathan Parker soon finds a connection between the victims—each of them had a role in an organization founded to help undocumented migrants make the dangerous crossing. Parker discovers no one is exactly who they seem.

There’s the devil you know and then there’s the devil within—when the two collide, no one is safe.

Devil Within is the sequel to the Anthony and Lefty Award nominated Dead Drop.

Book Details:

Genre: Procedural/Thriller
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: July 2023
Number of Pages: 310
Series: The Nathan Parker Detective Series, Book 2
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

Nia Saldana didn’t think today would be the day she died. Why would she? She was careful and avoided situations which drew too much attention. She never wanted to be noticed. When you got noticed, it only led to trouble, or worse.

She cursed herself for snooping around her employer’s office as she tidied up. The big man wasn’t who he pretended to be. If others knew what she saw…

Nia fought off anxiety driving home after another twelve-hour day cleaning homes on Camelback Mountain, the upscale enclave in Central Phoenix. Commuter traffic on this section of the 101 loop was a field of brake lights and her hands gripped the wheel, knowing she’d be home after her two girls were asleep. Her sister Sofia never complained when she watched the girls and loved them as if they were her own. Nia regretted every minute away from them, and the envelope of cash on the seat next to her meant she could stop and pick up a little pink box of day-old Mexican pastries for the girls as a sweet surprise.

A job that didn’t require hours away from her girls was a dream. She didn’t dare look for a better-paying job. There was too much at risk for a single, undocumented mother. One wrong move, like getting caught in her employer’s office, and she would join her deported husband in Hermosillo. What would happen to the girls then?

She pushed a worn stuffed animal away from her leg when she caught a sudden blur from the right. A familiar black SUV cut across her path, nearly clipping the front end of her Nissan Sentra. She knew her boss was furious; in a way she’d never seen before. But to chase her on the freeway because of what she’d discovered? Reckless.

A pop caught her attention. Seconds later, the heavy SUV lurched and bumped Nia’s sedan into the left lane, pushing her into the gravel median. A second pop sounded moments before the wheel wrenched from Nia’s hands sending the Sentra into a hard spin to the left until it faced back into the oncoming traffic.

Rubber barked on the asphalt as a semi-truck slammed on its brakes and the trailer jackknifed, a wall of metal rushing toward Nia’s windshield. The Sentra crumpled from the impact of the heavy eighteen-wheeler. The thin metal roof folded in pinning her against the seat. The steering wheel crushed against the driver’s seat, and Nia with it. The pressure against her chest made breathing impossible. If her brother-in-law hadn’t sold the airbag for a few dollars…. Nia glanced at the blood-spattered stuffed animal and pulled it close to her.

Inside her broken passenger side window, Nia watched as the SUV plowed into the metal rails in the center divider without slowing down. The driver slumped over the wheel after his vehicle came to rest. Why? Why did he? The grip on the stuffed animal loosened as she grew cold. The faces of her two young girls were the last images she held while she slipped away.

Chapter Two

Detective Sergeant Nathan Parker weaved his way through the snarl of traffic on the freeway. Phoenix dwellers took it in stride because commute hours meant a sludge across the valley with a daily multi-car pile-up, or a disabled vehicle in the tunnel. None of the usual reasons for traffic meltdowns would justify a Major Crimes detective call out.

Parker’s Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office Ford Explorer was unmarked, but the antenna bristling on the roof and the flashing red and blue lights in the grill gave it away. As he approached, he wasn’t certain what warranted a major crimes investigator. Parker spotted the vehicles spun out in the median, the front end of a compact sedan crumpled under a big rig trailer. No one would survive this one.

Fire engines stopped traffic in the two lanes near the accident. A single lane of cars bled through the remaining gap in the freeway, going slow enough to glimpse the gruesome wreckage.

Deputy Marcus Stone called Parker on his cell phone rather than make the call over the department radio frequency. The call was quick on detail, other than Deputy Stone needed Parker at the scene. Parker’s mind shuffled through the possibilities as he pulled his Explorer to the far left median. He spotted the wrecked SUV on the center divider, twenty yards from the jackknifed semi-truck. A high-profile victim, or an influential Phoenix power player caught in a deadly drunk driving crash? Maybe. Politics was king, even in the desert. The twisted remains of the Nissan underneath the big rig, however, didn’t scream of valley nobility.

Parker spotted deputy Stone near the rear of the Phoenix Metro Fire Department engine. Stone looked gray.

“Marcus.” Stone didn’t take his gaze from the fire crew using an air powered extraction device, sometimes called the Jaws of Life, to peel back the exposed left front quarter panel of the gutted Nissan Sentra . “We’ve got two deceased.” Stone jutted his square jaw at the Nissan. “A young woman. In the SUV against the guardrail, our second victim, a middleaged white male.”

“Looks nasty. Any statements from witnesses about how it happened. Why’d you call me out, anyway? Traffic accidents aren’t usually our thing.” Stone started toward the SUV. “Come with me.” Stone didn’t wait for Parker and made a path around the littered wreckage toward the black SUV. Parker noticed the driver slumped over the wheel after the fire department opened the driver’s door and left him in place. From experience, Parker knew fire crews extracted accident victims from the vehicles and tried to administer lifesaving treatment.

The driver’s razor cut gray hair lay matted in crimson. His skull disappeared in a jagged mess of blood and bone behind his ear.

“He’s been shot. Dammit, this makes three in a month,” Parker said. “That’s why I called you.”

Instinctively, Parker glanced at his surroundings. The freeway sat in the bottom of a wash, with city streets twenty feet above on both sides. An unnatural valley, but a natural killing ground for the Sun Valley Sniper. “Get any ID on this guy?”

Stone held a plastic evidence bag in his hand. Parker hadn’t noticed the deputy gripping the plastic envelope since his arrival.

“Roger Jessup. Local attorney, according to the Arizona Bar card in his wallet.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of him before. Gives us an angle to look at—you know, the whole disgruntled client thing.”

They both turned at the sound of ripping metal pulled from the Nissan Sentra. Two fire fighters crouched into the passenger compartment, cut the seatbelt, and pulled the driver from the car. They placed her gently on a yellow tarp spread on the gravel shoulder.

“I take it she wasn’t a shooting victim?” Parker said.

“No. The collision with the SUV spun her out and then the big rig finished it. Wrong place, wrong time, poor thing.”

“You call in the Medical Examiner?”

Stone shook his head. “Didn’t know how you would handle it.”

“No problem. While I call the M.E., could you ask the fire crews to set up some tarps to give our victims a bit of respect?”

“On it.” Stone strode off to the closest fire fighter and started pointing at the scene.

Parker approached the Nissan as the fire department crew draped a tarp over the dead woman. Parker saw she was olive skinned, young, perhaps in her early thirties, with dark black hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was attractive, but even in death, she carried signs of stress, lines creasing her forehead, and dark bags under her eyes. Parker dropped to one knee and scanned the passenger compartment. The driver was crushed. If it wasn’t bad enough, Parker spotted a well-loved stuffed animal on the seat.

“Oh man. She’s got kids.”

He reached for her purse and pulled the inexpensive plastic and cardboard handbag from the floorboard. Parker had seen these knockoff items before, carried by women coming over the border. He fished through the purse for a wallet and ID. Nothing. No driver’s license, insurance cards, or credit cards. When he stood, he spotted a blood-stained envelope. When he lifted it from the seat, it held one hundred dollars. No note or message in with the five twenty-dollar bills. The face of the envelope bore a simple inscription: “Nia.”

“Nia, what happened?”

Parker thought deputy Stone might be right. He was about to write it off as another case of a random victim until he found the bullet hole in the Nissan’s front tire. The tire exploded outward on the opposite side of the path of entry. Likely sending the compact sedan into an uncontrolled skid, careening off any vehicles in the next lane.

What were the chances of two cars being shot at in evening commuter traffic?

***

Excerpt from Devil Within by James L’Etoile. Copyright 2023 by James L’Etoile. Reproduced with permission from James L’Etoile. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

James L'Etoile

James L’Etoile uses his twenty-nine years behind bars as an influence in his award-winning novel, short stories, and screenplays. He is a former associate warden in a maximum-security prison, a hostage negotiator, and director of California’s state parole system. Black Label earned the Silver Falchion for Best Book by an Attending Author at Killer Nashville and he was nominated for The Bill Crider Award for short fiction. His most recent novel is the Anthony and Lefty Award nominated Dead Drop. Look for Devil Within and Face of Greed, both coming in 2023.

You can find out more at:
www.JamesLEtoile.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @crimewriter
Instagram – @authorjamesletoile
Twitter – @JamesLEtoile
Facebook – @AuthorJamesLetoile

 

 

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This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for James L’Etoile. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

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Giveaway – Reckless Grace by Diana Munoz Stewart @XpressoTours @dmunozstewart

Reckless Grace
Diana Muñoz Stewart
Publication date: August 15th 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Keeping secrets is my job. Uncovering the truth is his.

Gracie As a highly trained operative in a family of spies, I learned a a long time ago what happens when you fall in love and reveal your secrets. Devestation. Trusting no one is the only way to survive in this world. So, no matter how charming he is, Special Agent Leif McAllister won’t convince me that he’s left the FBI and wants to join my family’s less than legal operations. Dusty Special Agent is my title and Leif McAllister is technically my name, but “Dusty” is what everyone calls me. Been told I can talk a stone to dust. That kind of verbal fortitude makes my job easier. People trust an open book. Even if it’s filled with lies. Most people, anyway. Gracie Parish, my best way into her family’s illegal activities, just won’t trust me. No problem. I’ll use everything I’ve got–fair, unfair, and so-good-it’s-wrong–to penetrate her defenses, discover the truth, and prove my case. As the red-hot attraction between Dusty and Gracie explodes, Dusty’s investigation ignites a deadly threat and long hidden lies. They’ll have to decide quickly how far they can trust each other, because now it’s not just Gracie’s family secrets in jeopardy. It’s her life .

**This is a creatively reimagined version of an early work The Price of Grace. It is told in first person, present tense with completely new chapters.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

I’m trying desperately to work my way out of the hidden compartment under the seat of this car when an alarm sounds in the compound.

Okay, Gracie, don’t panic.

It’s hard not to when the alarm at the sex-trafficker’s home that me and my family of spies are sneaking into is going off and I’m stuck inside this Trojan horse of a car.

My heart speeds up—way up. It’s outpacing a Ducati right now.

Growling under my breath, I work my sweaty numb fingers against the metal escape lever. They’re about as responsive as a fish on the deck of a ship.

Breathing heavily, I push the padding. The seat finally cracks open a little, then stops dead. Fudge buckets.

The car door creaks open. I freeze. “Let me help you there, Gracie.”

I flinch back, bang my head. Ouch. Someone with a southern accent knows my name? The car shifts as that someone gets inside. He’s big judging by the way the car rocks.

There’s a sudden creak, then the seat is yanked open. I pull my shoulders loose, then sit up, blinking at fresh air and man.

Um. Oh.

Sunset-brown hair topped by a USA ball cap, a big, easy grin defined by the persistent crease of overused dimples, labor- tanned skin, and the manliest nose I’ve ever seen. A roughly carved block, his nose adds challenge and strength to a too-handsome, sun-rugged portrait.

My heartbeat skitters between dread, alarm, and horrifying and unexpected arousal. My face goes lava-red. USA Ballcap grins at me.

Of course he does. What man wouldn’t when faced with a woman who’s obviously taken with his rugged good looks? The ginger curse. My body paints every emotion upon my skin in red hues. From pleased pink to rust-colored anger to chili-red lust.

As if my reaction has given him a right, his eyes bounce along my body, taking in the red-velvet bra, the matching thong, the ruby piercing snuggled in my bellybutton, and the tattoo along my right side.

Top most embarrassing moment, please take a step down. Guess, it’s not the best time to try and explain my live sex-show cover.

Without taking his amber gaze from me, he gropes and finds his two-way. He lifts it to his mouth, but before he presses the button, says, “Darlin’, don’t be upset by this. I’m on your side. Trust me.”

With that, he clicks the radio on and gives instructions for his men to go out and hunt Justice. He clicks off.

Don’t be upset? Does this idiot realize that’s my sister?

Teeth clenched, I extract my gun from the hidden compartment and point it at him.

A muscle along his thumb twitches, but he keeps his Glock 19 down. He smiles.

Really? Oh, buddy, let’s see how quickly I can wipe that smile off your face.

“No, no,” he says, clearly reading my intent from my furious face. “Don’t shoot. I’m working with Tony. I had to send those men so Walid wouldn’t suspect what’s going down.”

Tony? “My brother never mentioned you, and you just sacrificed my sister so Walid, a sex-trafficking supervillain, won’t suspect you?”

He shakes his head, smile gone. Smart. “Your sister is good and those guys can’t shoot. No fooling. One of them shot himself in the foot trying to take his gun out two months ago.”

“Gracie?” Justice’s strained voice comes through my headset.

I click my mic with a flick of my jaw. “Go. I’ll catch up. I’m dealing with something.”

He does smile at that. “I’m Agent Leif McAllister. FBI.”

FBI? Nuts and bolts. The email. The email I sent via a secure site to the FBI. The one I’d sent when my son was sick and I’d been helpless to go to him and it’d all seemed Momma’s fault. The stupid email that proves I’m a traitor to the family and the Spy Makers Guild.

I swallow a wave of panic. “FBI? In Mexico?”

“Yeah, well, I’m sort of off-duty right now, since I’m working for your brother. No need for the agent part, actually. Just thought that would make you more comfortable. My friends call me Dusty.”

“Dusty?”

“Been told I could talk a stone to dust.” He reaches out with his free hand. “I’m going to help you out of here. Okay?”

“You touch me and I will shoot.”

His hand drops. Good. Nothing like setting the boundaries from the get-go.


Author Bio:

#1 Amazon bestselling author.

Armed with a razor-sharp wit and a rolled-up MFA in Creative Writing, Diana Muñoz Stewart cartwheel-kicked her way into publishing with her fiery Black Ops Confidential series. Washington Independent Review of Books called the series’ award-winning debut, “original, impressive” a “rollicking good ride” and “high-octane.”

Of her writing Publishers Weekly declared, “Stewart plays adeptly with the reader’s emotions” and noted that in her series, “Stewart’s talent shines.”

Of her unflinching openness in taking on today’s relevant topics, Booklist said, “Munoz-Stewart discusses such sensitive topics as human trafficking, sexual violence, and sexism…while the diverse …Parish family and their mission to protect women everywhere give these topics…hope…”

Kirkus Book Reviews said her romantic suspense series, along with having, “Sizzling physical encounters” also “enables an emphasis on recovery and power.”

Munoz Stewart’s work has been a BookPage Top 15 Romance of 2018, a Night Owl Top Pick, A BookPage Top Pick, and an Amazon Book of the Month. A 2014 Pages From The Heart Winner, 2015 Golden Heart® Finalist, 2016 Daphne du Maurier Finalist, and a 2016 Gateway to the Best Winner, Diana Munoz Stewart is a member of Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, and Sisters in Crime.

Diana lives in an often chaotic and always welcoming home that—depending on the day—can hold husband, kids, extended family, friends, and a canine or two. A believer in the power of words to heal, connect, and distract from chores, Diana blogs regularly on topics near and dear to her heart, including spotlight pieces on strong women from around the world. When not writing, Diana can be found kayaking, doing sprints up her long driveway—harder than it sounds–attempting yoga on her deck, or hiking with the man who’s had her heart since they were teens.

Diana is represented by the wonderful Michelle Grajkowski of Three Seas Literary Agency.

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