$50 GC – Rented Grave by Charles Philipp Martin @partnersincr1me

Rented Grave by Charles Philipp Martin Banner

RENTED GRAVE

by Charles Philipp Martin

February 3 – 28, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Rented Grave by Charles Martin

AN INSPECTOR LOK NOVEL

 

Horace Yang, a downtrodden office worker haunted by failure, betrayal, and brutal imprisonment during Mao’s Cultural Revolution, has finally found a way to settle the score. Obsessed with revenge, he presses on to a confrontation that can only end in death.

​In Hong Kong’s teeming Yau Ma Tei district, a body is found in a gangster’s limousine. The murder case takes Inspector Lok and his team deep into the heart of the city’s criminal life. Eventually Lok’s investigation uncovers an evil spawned in the turmoil of 1960s China, where a vicious regime exploited fear and terrorized the masses.

Rented Grave is a crime story about Hong Kong, a modern city entangled in China’s past. Some can’t forget that past, for their wounds still bleed, and their voices still cry out for revenge.

Praise for Rented Grave:

“An atmospheric crime story savvily blending the sleek modernity of Hong Kong with China’s tumultuous past.”
~ Kirkus Reviews

“In noir, nothing goes according to plan. Charles Philip Martin’s RENTED GRAVE we have a crime, done in a different culture, against an alien political backdrop. Everything is different to Western eyes, from corruption to police procedure, women, and justice. Told in a crisp, vivid and relentless style that keeps the story moving forward and the mindset and values of a foreign city and its people at the fingertips, yet out of reach, Martin delivers noir in the darkest of shades.”
~ Gabriel Valjan, Agatha, Anthony, and Shamus-nominated author of the Shane Cleary series​

“…lean and masterfully written…This book pulls you in and won’t let go.”
~ Carl Vonderau, award-winning author of MURDERABILIA and SAVING MYLES​

Rented Grave is a beautifully-crafted, relentlessly-paced crime story studded with edge-of-your-seat thrills. Never for a moment does it stop bubbling with tension and danger.”
~ Ron McMillan, author of YIN YANG TATTOO and BANGKOK COWBOY

“An as-authentic-as-you’re-likely-to-get insider’s view of Hong Kong police work…Martin pulls the reader through a twisty international thriller that ultimately satisfies while leaving us ready for the next installment. Exactly what you want in a thriller.”
~ Bobby Mathews, Anthony-nominated author of MAGIC CITY BLUES, LIVING THE GIMMICK, and NEGATIVE TILT

“The criminal back alleys of Charles Philipp Martin’s Hong Kong simmer with sumptuous corruption.”
~ Gerald Elias, award-winning author of the Daniel Jacobus mysteries

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: August 13, 2024
Number of Pages: 270
ISBN: 9781685126780 (ISBN10: 1685126782)
Series: An Inspector Lok Novel, 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Level Best Books

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

Rented Grave

Yau Ma Tei District, Hong Kong, Friday, 7:31 p.m. It was not supposed to be like this.

Again the words come back to Horace Yang, persistent as the cat he kicks in the alley by his home, that wretched bag of fur that returns nightly to beg for what Horace doesn’t have.

The words come back, like the blotch on his toe, a mustard-colored rot that vanishes with a touch of rice vinegar, only to bloom again when it dries.

He banishes the words from his mind, but they return.

It was not supposed to be like this.

They return when he awakens in his flat, which seems to shrink by the year, and again when he takes the day’s work orders and prepares for the day’s disappointments.

It was not supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be different.

The words remain after other words are forgotten. They remain after he answers a question from his son, a boy without guile and without future. At night they keep him company in bed, while he counts the ways that life has thwarted him. And now they return in full voice as he clutches a knife bought in haste to kill a man.

There should have been time to plan, time to choose the weapon and the place, perhaps even a minute to tell Mo what he thought of him first. That would have felt good, might have eased the stress. That was how it was supposed to be.

But for Horace, things are never as they’re supposed to be.

It should be dark, but darkness, like silence, doesn’t happen in Mongkok. A faint glow washes in from lamps on Temple Street. Filthy and forgotten windows at the back of the restaurant shed their anemic light on crates full of rotting choi sum.

Horace approaches the dormant limousine, adding a few inches to his stride to speed things up.

Given more time, he could have taken control, and not had to sneak around. Why is it that people like him, who have the best minds and the keenest ambition, are the ones who can never get control?

One last look around. Except for Horace, the alley is empty. No one is passing on Temple Street behind him or on Woosung Street at the far end. If it’s to happen, it must happen now.

Horace grabs the handle and throws the door wide open to reveal a small figure in the glint of the dome light.

“Who…?” The man stares up in confusion.

He drives the knife into the man’s chest. They both gasp.

Up to this moment, Horace has thought only of himself: his own need for cover, for speed, for getting the thing done and getting away. And, of course, his resentment at how things have turned out.

Now, the deed done, he pauses to look at the man.

The wrong man. Not Mo Tun.

A stranger lies on the seat, eyes rigid in horror and pain. And then Horace sees what he hasn’t allowed himself to see till now.

Next to the dead man, another pair of eyes.

***

Excerpt from Rented Grave by Charles Martin. Copyright 2025 by Charles Martin. Reproduced with permission from Charles Martin. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Charles Philipp Martin

Charles Philipp Martin grew up in New York City’s Greenwich Village. His father was an opera conductor and both his parents well-known opera translators and librettists who never uttered the word “parenting” but knew enough to steep their family in music and literature. After attending Columbia University and Manhattan School of Music, Martin took off for a six-year paid vacation in the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra.

While in Hong Kong he hung up his bow and turned to writing, spending four years as a Sunday Magazine columnist for the South China Morning Post, and writing for magazines all over Southeast Asia. His weekly jazz radio show 3 O’Clock Jump was heard every Saturday on Hong Kong’s Radio 3 for some two decades.

Neon Panic, a suspense novel which introduced Hong Kong policeman Inspector Herman Lok, was published in 2011. His most recent novel is Rented Grave, the first in a new series featuring Inspector Herman Lok. Martin now lives in Seattle with his wife Catherine.

Catch Up With Charles Philipp Martin:
www.NeonPanic.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads – @cpmartin
Instagram – @writecharliewrite
Bluesky – @neonpanic.bsky.social
Facebook – @HongKongSuspense

 

 

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Giveaway – Sins Of The Fire by Phoenix Ward @xpressotours

Sins of the Fire
Phoenix Ward
(Sins of the Fire, #1)
Publication date: September 13th 2024
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Young Adult

No one knows dragons coexisted with humans.

Ancient times long past, we shared magic, weapons and even our very souls with these creatures. Society’s connection between them spanned the test of time, through art, stories, and spoken word. Yet though depictions remain, they no longer exist.

Christian armies, believing these creatures to be devils, laid siege to end their species in a wild pursuit of their Promised Land. Bloodshed for nearly two centuries suddenly came to an end. Concurrently, those winged beasts, admired and feared, were extinguished without a trace.

It’s 2028, and the Crusades are talked about in my college classes. One dragon was able to escape it all by sealing itself in a blade. If such a blade existed, and anyone were to lift it today, they’d reignite the war long dormant—An affront on God himself.

I’m Kane, by the way. Kane Wynde. And this is Mysherra, the affront to God.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“You shall be tied to the blade, for as long as your mind and spirit remain. Is this acceptable?”

The earth shook, and the rumble of fire howled from outside of the cave. An ultimatum laid before me. To bind myself within

the blade would mean giving up my freedom for eternity. To fight a war that threatened to burn the earth to its core would mean

my death. The Gods have brought upon us a calamity no mortal could ever hope to quell. Humans who were once close to us

rallied for our demise. Our kind torched them, their lands, and their ilk in sport. Whichever side won, there would be no true

victor. Only ash.

Would it be acceptable to live the rest of my life as a weapon? Would it be better if I died fighting a lost cause?

Imprisonment or death; my options were narrow.

Looking down at the human, dressed in burns, I pondered what he thought. He bore no hatred. He held no contempt for my

kind after what happened. He agreed to fight alongside me with eyes ablaze with passion. I wondered why. What would make

someone turn a blind eye to the wounds inflicted by a beast of my caliber? What allowed him to grace my hand, still slick with the

residue of death, and find camaraderie in the midst of devastation?

The silence of the cave was beginning to draw on my senses, my own thoughts starting to cloud the noise of the carnage.

We agreed to fight together, but fear was a wise and stringent guide. Regardless of it, I had to make a choice.

“This is acceptable.”

“In doing this, you will relinquish your body. Your essence shall be ripped completely from within. Your magic, your

strength and your flames will be in the hands of your wielder. Is this acceptable?”

My heart shuddered. It would hurt. I would die, yet I would live. What would happen to my body? Would my heart sit in

silence, left to rot in its empty temple? Would my flesh be torn away with my spirit? Again, I looked towards the human. His gaze

held mine. Though twisted and bloated, he held me in their comfort. He smiled. He did not need to reassure me with words nor

tender touch.

“This is acceptable.”

“The process shall span the turn of the moon. With the dawn, you shall awaken in your new form. Do you accept the terms

of the pact?”

“I accept.”

The dragon’ s eyes flashed. “The terms have been set, and the pact is complete. May fortune favor you, Mysherra.”

As the sword began to gleam, I closed my eyes.

Tingling spread across my body as the sensation of my insides were pulled from within me. And thus, through a pain that

transcended anything inflicted upon my hide of scales, I accepted my fate.


Author Bio:

Phoenix Ward is an indie black writer, and educator from Philadelphia. He has worked in the field of education for over five years, teaching all grades Mathematics and English. When he’s not writing, he is composing music using Logic Pro X, or tutoring children on subjects they struggle in. Currently, he lives in Philadelphia with his dog and cat.

An avid world-builder, Phoenix has created many stories from youth to adulthood, but none have captivated him as much as his latest work Sins of the Fire, which combines his passion for storytelling with his deep understanding of human nature. He draws inspiration from the vibrant city life of Philadelphia and his own experiences as an educator, infusing his narratives with authenticity and depth.

In addition to his work as a writer and educator, Phoenix is committed to supporting young creatives in their journeys. He actively encourages students and adults alike to seek a way to create their own stories. Everyone has a message to share, and doing so in story is the best way to do so.

Website / Goodreads


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$10 GC – Star Crossed Egg Tarts by Jennifer J Chow @partnersincr1me

STAR-CROSSED EGG TARTS

by Jennifer J Chow

January 27 – February 21, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Star-Crossed Egg Tarts by Jennifer J Chow

A MAGICAL FORTUNE COOKIE NOVEL

 

Jin Bakery has been asked to cater the Lum-Wu outdoor wedding at Pixie Park. The day of the ceremony, Felicity is finishing the “cake” of tiered egg tarts as the wedding party arrives for the ceremony. When one of the groomsmen, Miles Wu, doesn’t arrive, Felicity’s best friend and local florist Kelvin generously steps in for him and the wedding goes smoothly―until cake cutting time.

That’s when Felicity finds Miles’ dead body beneath the table with her egg tarts display, stabbed by Kelvin’s gardening shears. With the detective’s sights on Kelvin, Felicity starts sleuthing away to prove his innocence, revealing dark secrets about all the wedding’s attendants. They each had something to hide―and a reason to quiet Miles forever. To make matters worse, Felicity’s powers of prediction are on the fritz thanks to the emotional turmoil of a surprise visit from her estranged father.

When the groom gets poisoned at the send-off party and winds up in a coma, the stakes are even higher, not to mention Felicity’s feelings for Kelvin are beginning to feel more than friendly. Will Felicity’s magic return in time to catch the true culprit and rescue her budding relationship with Kelvin?

Praise for the Magical Fortune Cookie series and Jennifer J. Chow:

“A spellbinding whodunit unfolds in the first installment of Jennifer J. Chow’s Magical Fortune Cookie series.”
~ Woman’s World

“The story itself is light, sweet, and delectable. The ensemble of interesting characters adds a crispy texture to the narrative, and, true to the cozy mystery genre, a central mystery―the ill-fated fortune―keeps readers engaged from start to finish.”
~ The Big Thrill

“This first in a new series featuring a likable Chinese American heroine will appeal to fans of Jenn McKinlay, Eve Calder, or Joanne Fluke.”
~ Booklist

“Nobody writes cozy mysteries quite like Jennifer J. Chow. No matter what is going wrong in my life, I know that all I need to do for some comfort is turn to one of Chow’s books. Chow has done it again with Ill-Fated Fortune. I did not want to leave Felicity’s side even for a moment, and you won’t want to either.”
~ Jesse Q. Sutanto, Edgar Award-winning author of Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers

“A magical new culinary cozy mystery series filled with family, friendship, and heart―and a pinch of real magic.”
~ Gigi Pandian, USA Today bestselling author of the Secret Staircase Mysteries on Ill-Fated Fortune

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery, Amateur Sleuth, Asian American fiction
Published by: Minotaur
Publication Date: January 21, 2025
Number of Pages: 352
ISBN: 9781250351623 (ISBN10: 1250351626)
Series: The Magical Fortune Cookie series, #2
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Minotaur

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

I put the last egg tart in place on the tiered circular display, stepped back, and admired my handiwork. From a distance, if you squinted and tilted your head just right, you might actually mistake it for a wedding cake made of gold, or Jin. Fitting, since “Jin” was both my surname and the Mandarin word for “gold.” I grinned. Guess I’d been fated for this job.

Happily, I even got to rope in loved ones as other vendors. My best friend, Kelvin Love (who has the most fitting name to cater a wedding), handled the elaborate floral displays. And my godmother, Alma Paz, made the candle arrangements, including the votives for the cake table. She’d even handcrafted bowl-shaped lace holders for each votive candle.

Once the late afternoon dissolved into evening, the small candles would be lit, and the cake made of egg tarts would turn into an enchanting display. Quite literally, because my mom had used her magic to bake joy into every last bite. After all, that’s what we Jins do—pour joy into our signature recipe treats to flow out to others. Except my own brand of magic came with an extra bonus: I made special fortune cookies that provided happiness and accurately predicted future happenings.

I added a stash of business cards to the table. I’d been made official co-owner of Jin Bakery with my mom, and I now had business cards to attest to that exciting fact. Besides, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have my contact info out there. If people were in the area for the wedding, maybe they’d decide to check out our local bakery, too.

Plus, many of the guests were from nearby Fresno, the bride’s hometown, though a fair share hailed from up north, where the groom’s relatives lived. It wasn’t too much of a trek from NorCal to visit Pixie, right? Not for delicious egg tarts, pineapple buns, and fortune cookies, all coated with magic.

“It’s beautiful,” someone whispered from near my shoulder. I would have startled at the interruption, but the voice was so gentle, it didn’t scare me in the least.

A bridesmaid must have snuck into the main tent without my noticing. Maybe the soft grass surrounding the tent had masked her footsteps. Or she’d minced along in those stiletto sandals.

She was a wisp of a young woman, just a few years past twenty. Even though I was twenty-eight, I couldn’t imagine having ever been so bright-eyed and hopeful as the girl before me. The twin honey-colored braids wrapped around her head only added to her youthfulness.

“Haley, was it?” I asked.

She nodded, almost bouncing on her heels. “You remembered my name.”

“It’s distinctive. Very pretty.”

She flushed a sweet shade of pink. “I like your name, too. Felicity is lovely.”

“Is that a rose tucked behind your ear?” I asked, pointing to the blossom, the full pink petals brushing up against a tiny golden ear cuff lined with diamonds.

She widened her green eyes at me. “Uh, is that okay? I mean, do you mind? Are you and Kelvin together—”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving away her concern. “Kelvin and I are just friends.” Best friends, technically. “I take it he’s still working on the flower arch outside?”

“Said he was ‘securing the petals.’” Kelvin was a stickler for floral quality. Guess that’s what made us good entrepreneurs in our little town of Pixie.

I glanced at Haley’s T-shirt and jeans. “What time is it? Do you need to change?”

“Four forty-five,” she said. “I better get ready.”

The wedding guests would show up at six. Right now, only us hired help and the wedding party, plus the parents of the bride and groom, were roaming the surrounding green space.

“Jada’s in our tent doing makeup, and she said she’d help me,” Haley said.

“I should get going, too.” I’d promised the bride, Leanne, that I’d check on the tea ceremony. Not that I’d be super helpful. I’m third-gen Chinese American and had had to google what the traditional tea ritual entailed.

I followed Haley’s bouncing steps out of the larger main tent into the lush green of Pixie Park. Our town’s biggest park definitely had enough space for the Lum-Wu ceremony. The bride and groom had asked to pitch four tents for the event: a reception tent for food, his and her tents for wedding prep, and a tent for the traditional tea serving ritual.

Pixie Park also boasted a large hill, and it was sure to look magnificent with its aerial view for the actual wedding ceremony and exchanging of vows. Kelvin was on the hill now, fussing over the flowers on the custom arch he’d made.

I waved at him. He bobbed his head at me, his fingers still patting petals into place. Kelvin looked good fancied up, in a dress shirt and pressed slacks. His usual go-to was a casual Henley and jeans.

There was a rainbow of beautiful blossoms decorating the immense arch he’d constructed. I didn’t know why Kelvin was so worried. There wasn’t a breeze to be found. It was perfect, and the flowers should stay put.

If anything, the temperature was slightly too warm today. Thankfully, it was dry heat, typical of the San Joaquin Valley. Whoever thought tea was a great idea in July had not factored in the weather. Then again, traditions were important. I headed over to the tea tent, and as soon as I put my head through the flap, Leanne squealed.

“You came to help. Thank goodness,” she said. The bride-to-be wore a red qipao with a golden phoenix trailing down the front. Her hair was pinned up, and pearls were scattered across the hairdo as decoration, matching the dangling pearl earrings she wore.

“How can I assist?” I asked.

“With the hot plate. You’re good in the kitchen. Er, bakery. Can you get it started?”

“I can try.” I mean, I was hired to cater the cake, not the tea. But I’d done the bare minimum online research. Maybe I could fake my way through.

***

Excerpt from Star-Crossed Egg Tarts by Jennifer J Chow. Copyright 2025 by Jennifer J Chow. Reproduced with permission from St. Martin’s Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Jennifer J Chow

Agatha, Anthony, Lefty, and Lilian Jackson Braun Award-nominated author. Jennifer J. Chow writes cozy mysteries filled with hope and heritage.

Catch Up With Jennifer J Chow:
www.JenniferJChow.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub – @jenniferjchow
Instagram – @jenjchow
Threads – @jenjchow
Facebook – @JenJChow

 

 

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This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Jennifer J Chow. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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$20 GC – Twice A Target by Susan Vaughan @xpressotours

Twice A Target
Susan Vaughan
(Task Force Eagle, #4)
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: January 29th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Disaster strikes DEA Agent Holt Donovan twice, when a gunfight ruins his mission and a car crash kills his brother and sister-in-law. Home on the Colorado ranch to raise his infant nephew, Holt enlists a nanny—Maddy McCoy, the woman who once jilted his brother. The world-traveling photographer never expected to return to Colorado, the only real home she ever had, and to the man she never forgot. Burned out from covering too many starving children and refugees and short on funds, Maddy agrees, vowing to keep her heart safe. What neither of them knows is that by bringing her into his home, Holt has placed her in the crosshairs of a killer. As Holt and Maddy cope with their desire for each other and the resentments of the past, their investigation into the brother’s death leads them into escalating danger and a shocking discovery.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks

EXCERPT:

Bobby’s siren wail penetrated Holt’s consciousness like a nail in his skull.

He opened one eye. The lighted digital clock beside his bed read two o’clock. Right on time, little guy. “Coming,” he mumbled.

One foot on the floor. The other. He raked fingers through his hair, then pushed to his feet. Starting for the door, he snapped alert as though slapped.

Maddy McCoy.

He’d finished some paperwork in the office, then slipped off to bed early. But escape didn’t work worth a damn. The image of Maddy’s sassy face and the memory of her scent kept him torturing his sheets for hours before he finally slept.

Damn, she was in the master bedroom. He couldn’t troop through the house in his skivvies. Blinking in the darkened bedroom, he stumbled back and forth like a drugged steer as he searched for his jeans. Didn’t he leave them on the chair? Or on the floor? No. He put away the clean ones and tossed the manure-smeared ones into the washing machine. Where they remained.

Bobby cranked it up a notch. He could rival that opera singer, Luciano something.

Hell with it. Holt hit the door and burst into the hall.

And collided with a slim figure in filmy white.

He stumbled to a halt and braced himself as his arms went around her to stop her fall. She emitted a small yelp like a cartoon eek. Under his hands, her slender body in the silken covering was a miracle of curves and soft, toned female flesh. His body tightened and his pulse raced off to distant planets. The hallway suddenly didn’t have enough air.

He immediately set her away a step. Then he stepped back another. “Sorry. Bobby.” The baby’s cry subsided to hiccups and whimpers. No emergency, to his relief.

“Thought that was my job,” she said. “Two o’clock bottle. Diaper change. Like that.”

“You’re here to spell me when I’m doing ranch work.”

“A rancher needs sleep.” She returned his scowl, although humor tugged at the corner of her lips. “Why do you want me here if you won’t leave Bobby to me?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again with a snap.

Bobby cranked it up again. Only taking a breather. His wail rivaled an air raid siren.

“If you’ll get out of my way,” she said, tossing her hair and smoothing her nightshirt so it highlighted her breasts, “I’ll see to the baby.” The grin popped out, accompanied by a slow perusal down Holt’s body. “Nice…legs.”

He blinked, shot a glance downward. Damn, betrayed by his tented boxers. His Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed hard. He jerked to the side along the wall, as if someone had pressed a knife to his side. “Bobby’s all yours.”

“Great!” She turned and swung her hips as she flounced toward the baby’s room.

Author Bio:

I wanted to write as soon as I learned to read. I dabbled with stories and poems for years, but didn’t start writing seriously until many years later. My favorite books have always been mysteries and romances, so the mix in romantic suspense was a natural. I love writing romantic suspense because it throws the hero and heroine together under extraordinary circumstances and pits them against a clever villain. My books have been both a Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer’s Choice Nominee and a finalist for the Daphne du Maurier Award. Reviewers have called my books fast-paced, thrilling, action-packed, sizzling, and highly emotional.

I have also published a children’s Christmas picture book, Sleigh Magic.

I am a West Virginia native but I have lived for many years on the coast of Maine.

For more information about my books, please visit me at susanvaughan dot com

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram


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Virtual Book Tour for The Golden Deficit @pumpupyourbook


 Unexpected solutions to unanticipated problems with the Golden Harvest.

 


Title: The Golden Deficit: Book 3 of the Golden Harvest Series

Author: Joni Parker

Pages: 401

Genre: Fantasy

Lady Alex, the Elfin Keeper of the Keys for the Council of Elders, begins an epic adventure when she returns to the magical land of Eledon. The final talley of the Golden Harvest is in, and it’s far from the hundred million gold knots required. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the deficit is even larger, caused by the deceitful Rock Elves. These cunning creatures have been paying other Elves with fake gold knots for years, and no one had a clue until now. The Mentors demand the Elves pay the five million knot deficit in ninety days, but no one has any gold left. The pressure is on, and everyone is at a loss for how to come up with the gold, until Lady Alex devises a brilliant plan. But it will require equipment and expertise the Elves don’t have, and time is running out. Can she gather what she needs and save Eledon from financial ruin before it’s too late?

The Golden Deficit is available at Amazon at https://amazon.com/dp/B0DL6G4GB2.

 


Book Excerpt

This sucked! I came home expecting a warm welcome, but instead, I’ve been chewed out twice. Or was it three times? I should have kept score, but I had no idea what I was walking into. I had returned to Eledon because my mortal boss in Paris, Étienne, a world renown fashion designer, went into the hospital for a ruptured appendix. He had delayed treatment because he had top billing during fashion week in Paris, and it consumed him. We worked extra-long hours to get the clothes done in time, and the results were brilliant. Although he could have died, he didn’t, but when he was taken to the hospital, all work in the design studio came to a screeching-ass halt although I had to finish up some photoshoots for a magazine spread. Work won’t start up again until Étienne gets back at the end of March. So, I came home to Eledon.  

Eledon was the home of the Elves, and was given to us by our Mentors when we were forced to leave Earth. I was part Elf and mortal, well, mostly mortal. My father was a mortal man from a place in outer space called Oltria, and my mother was the daughter of a Water Elf and a Titan. I hardly remembered them since they died when I was four. When I grew up, I lived with my mortal foster parents until I turned sixteen. Then I moved in with my Elfin grandmother, Lady Lestin of the Water Elves. Talk about a culture shock. I’m still learning about Elves. 

– Excerpted from The Golden Deficit by Joni Parker, Joni Parker, 2024. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author
 

Joni Parker was born in Chicago, Illinois, but moved to Japan with her family when she was 8, so her father could achieve his dream of becoming a pro golfer. Upon return, her family moved to Phoenix, Arizona where Joni graduated from Camelback High School. After a short stint at Arizona State University, she joined the U.S. Navy. After 22 years of military service, she retired and traveled the country with her husband in their RV until he passed away. Joni went back to work for the federal government for another 7 years until she could retire and devote her time to writing. She currently lives in Tucson, Arizona with her sister.   

Website & Social Media:

Website http://www.joni-parker.com

Facebook ➜ https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJoniParker

 


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$20 GC – River Of Lies by James L’Etoile @partnersincr1me @JamesLEtoile

River of Lies by James L'Etoile Banner

RIVER OF LIES

by James L’Etoile

January 6 – 31, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

River of Lies by James L'Etoile

A Detective Emily Hunter Mystery

 

Detective Emily Hunter must be the voice for the voiceless

The homeless camps spread throughout the city of Sacramento are a topic of heated debate among residents. They’re considered undesirable—a nuisance—an eyesore. But when the camps fall victim to a string of devastating arson attacks, Detective Emily Hunter and her partner, Javier Medina, dive into the investigation and become acquainted with the real people whose lives have been destroyed.

The attacks only begin to draw attention when two of the victims are identified as the city’s former anti-homeless mayor and a camp social worker—but rather than strengthening the push for justice, the movement to completely abolish the camps intensifies.

The investigation becomes politically charged when Emily discovers who stands to gain from burning the homeless out of their shelters. She struggles to balance the high-stakes investigation with caring for her Alzheimer’s-stricken mother, whose condition is rapidly deteriorating. The investigation uncovers an unlikely suspect and a reluctant witness standing between Emily and the shocking truth. Can Emily overcome resistance and her personal obstacles to halt the attacks?

Praise for RIVER OF LIES:

“[River of Lies has] everything that I love in a police procedural in spades: a smart and intuitive lead detective, an equally intuitive partner, and a high-stakes, ripped-from-the-headlines case that will challenge them both.”
~ Karen Dionne, USA Today best-selling author of The Marsh King’s Daughter

River of Lies is a rich, gripping crime novel. L’Etoile writes with a deep understanding of both human nature and investigative procedure, a combination that keeps the pages flying past.”
~ Lou Berney, Edgar Award-winning author of Double Barrel Bluff

River of Lies is a tour de force thriller . . . Brooding, heartfelt, and powerful.”
~ T. Jefferson Parker, New York Times best-selling author of Desperation Reef

River of Lies is a masterful blend of political intrigue and personal drama, weaving elements of true-life crime into a twisty, page-turning and compelling plot—with a climax and denouement that will shock you to the core. Enthusiastically recommended.”
~ Baron Birtcher, award-winning author of Knife River

Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural; Thriller
Published by: Oceanview Publishing
Publication Date: January 7, 2025
Number of Pages: 320
ISBN: 9781608095896 (ISBN10: 1608095894)
Series: A Detective Emily Hunter Mystery, 2
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Oceanview Publishing

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

It would be easy to float away in the darkness and let the current pull her under, too. She’d thought about it several times before—in her “dark times,” as her ex-husband used to call them.

Lisa’s life hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped. Abusive parents, a failed marriage, the booze—so much booze—all swirled together to set her on this path. Losing her apartment finally put her out here. Now this. She thought she’d escaped, but running from her past hadn’t worked. The ghosts of years past had stripped everything away. Lisa had nothing left, not even hope.

The tug of the Sacramento River on her legs was temping, and the spring snow runoff numbed Lisa’s thighs as she waded out.

Lisa closed her eyes and pictured herself lying back and allowing the river to put an end to it.

“Momma?”

Lisa’s eyes shot open.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted the faint outline of her daughter standing on the riverbank. The eight-year-old wore a thin blue t-shirt with a unicorn on the front, a threadbare pair of jeans, holding a stuffed bunny with one ear missing. The girl’s face registered confusion.

“Baby, go on back to the tent,” Lisa said.

Lisa felt her daughter would be better off without her. The mother’s sins cast a damning shadow. But she couldn’t abandon Willow. Not like this. Lisa knew what it was like to be an orphan in an unfriendly world. The future of an eight-year-old alone in a homeless camp wasn’t the life Willow deserved.

“Momma, what are you doing?”

Lisa’s eyes welled. She didn’t need to tell her daughter the world was a hurtful place. She’d keep the secrets and not let her know there was nothing worth living for—for now.

“I’m coming, baby.”

Lisa turned and waded back toward the bank. Her daughter spent the last two years in one homeless camp or another. The tightly packed shelters made Lisa’s claustrophobia itch.

Lisa reached for her daughter and grabbed her, lifting the girl into a tight hug. Tears streamed down Lisa’s cheeks. Not because Lisa wanted to end her suffering. She’d considered that option before. The tears came from nearly making Willow an orphan and leaving the innocent girl behind in a homeless camp. Willow couldn’t fight off the predators who lurked in the darkness—like they did tonight.

From the river’s edge, the camp spread a quarter mile in either direction. There was never any official count because people came and went, died, were arrested, or simply disappeared from the camp. Lisa guessed there were over two hundred people living here in the city’s forgotten shadows.

It was time to move. When the camps get too big, bad things happen, and people talk.

Lights flickered from small campfires and lanterns throughout the settlement. Lisa thought they looked like fallen stars. She hugged Willow a little closer and followed the trail back into the camp.

She unzipped the fly on their tent and scooted inside. Their belongings—a change of clothes, a towel to share, and two children’s books lay on one end of the nylon dome tent. A pair of sleeping bags took up most of the space. Lisa knew they were lucky to have them—others didn’t.

“All right, sweetie, let’s get you settled in for the night.”

Willow wiggled into her sleeping bag with her stuffed rabbit. Lisa grabbed a book, The Mouse and the Motorcycle, one of her daughter’s favorites. The eight-year-old could recite most of the story by heart.

Lisa opened the book when a loud commotion erupted outside. It wasn’t uncommon in the camp. Fights over property, drugs, or imagined slights fed by drugs, alcohol, and glitchy mental health were a daily occurrence. Lisa learned the best thing to do was stay out of it and never get involved.

It sounded like the usual dust-up until the screams began.

“Stay here, Willow.”

Lisa crawled to the tent flap, zipped it open, and poked her head out.

Fire.

Flames erupted on the far side of the camp. It was always a risk in the cardboard condos and plastic tarp shelters along the riverbank. This was different. At least six structures were ablaze. People were running, backlit by the orange and yellow glow. The evening delta breeze fanned the flames, igniting another dozen tents.

The cheap nylon shelters went up like dried rice paper.

“Baby, get your shoes on.”

“What is it, Momma?”

“We need to—”

Lisa spotted two men in the chaos, both outlined by the flames behind them. They weren’t running. One set the next row of tents ablaze. The second man wielded a baseball bat and swung the aluminum cylinder at anyone who came near. A sickening tink sound echoed among the rows of tents when he bounced the bat off a man’s shoulder.

Lisa grabbed her daughter’s hand, pulling her from the tent. The girl’s eyes grew large when she spotted the fires.

Willow pulled away and ducked back into the tent.

“Willow Marie, don’t you pull away from me. Come here. We need to get away.”

Lisa felt the heat from the fire. It was spreading fast, and the flames jumped up into the trees within the camp.

Bending into the tent, Lisa found Willow gathering her stuffed animal and the books.

“Come now, we need to—”

Tink.

Lisa fell flat on the ground. The rounded end of the baseball bat shoved at her ribs. Dazed from a blow to the head, she didn’t move. Lisa registered a man’s boot stepping over her.

The flames grew closer.

Willow’s fear backed her into the far corner of the tent.

Lisa’s ragged voice called to her daughter. “Willow. Listen. I need—I need you to run. Hide. Go to the safe place—the rock where we hide things. Stay until I come for you.”

“I don’t want to go. I’m scared.”

“I know, baby. You have to be brave. Take Mr. Bunny and go, now.”

Willow clutched her stuffed animal, the book, and stepped through the tent flap.

“Momma, you have an owie.”

“I know, baby. I’ll be okay.”

It was a lie. Lisa knew she was far from okay. She could feel the pressure in her head building with each heartbeat.

“Go to the place we talked about, honey. Go quick.”

Willow’s eyes welled. She didn’t budge, frozen in fear before a scream from someone nearby broke her from the trance. Another row of tents went up in flames.

“Go.”

Willow hugged her bunny and trotted toward the river. Lisa lost sight of her through the smoke billowing through the camp.

She tried to get up and couldn’t move her legs. She crabbed forward using her arms, inching away from the burning camp.

Her tent flashed, and the flames consumed it in seconds. The melting fabric, plastic and nylon fibers fell on her. The molten material burned through her clothing and ate into the flesh on Lisa’s back.

The pain seared into her. Screams around her meant she wasn’t the only one. The two arsonists headed in the same direction Willow had fled.

“Stop them,” she cried. No one could hear over the chaos of the burning camp.

Lisa now wished the water had brought a calm end to everything. She didn’t expect this—the fire, searing flame, and torture. Part of her believed she deserved this fate for the pain she’d caused. Willow didn’t. The girl didn’t understand. Now, Lisa worried about what would happen to her sweet little girl. Mr. Bunny would not be enough.

The last thought before the flames ate at her pant legs. “I’ve failed you.”

***

Excerpt from River of Lies by James L’Etoile. Copyright 2025 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 novels, 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. His novels have been shortlisted or awarded the Lefty, Anthony, Silver Falchion, and the Public Safety Writers Award. River of Lies is his most recent novel. Look for Sins of the Father and The Red List, coming soon. He is the host of Authors on the Air, served as a board member of his local Sister-in-Crime chapter, sits on the Mystery Writers of America national board, and serves as the Director of QueryFest at ThrillerFest for International Thriller Writers.

Catch Up With James L’Etoile:
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Instagram – @authorjamesletoile
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Facebook – @AuthorJamesLetoile

 

 

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$25 GC – Tale Of The Seasons’ Weaver by D Wallace Peach @xpressotours

Tale of the Seasons’ Weaver
D. Wallace Peach
Publication date: January 9th 2024
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

“Already the animals starve. Soon the bonemen will follow, the Moss Folk and woodlings, the watermaids and humans. Then the charmed will fade. And all who will roam a dead world are dead things. Until they too vanish for lack of remembering. Still, Weaver, it is not too late.”

In the frost-kissed cottage where the changing seasons are spun, Erith wears the Weaver’s mantle, a title that tests her mortal, halfling magic. As the equinox looms, her first tapestry nears completion—a breathtaking ode to spring. She journeys to the charmed isle of Innishold to release the beauty of nature’s awakening across the land.

But human hunters have defiled the enchanted forest and slaughtered winter’s white wolves. Enraged by the trespass, the Winter King seizes Erith’s tapestry and locks her within his ice-bound palace. Here, where comfort and warmth are mere glamours, she may weave only winter until every mortal village succumbs to starvation, ice, and the gray wraiths haunting the snow.

With humanity’s fate on a perilous edge, Erith must break free of the king’s grasp and unravel a legacy of secrets. In a charmed court where illusions hold sway, allies matter, foremost among them, the Autumn Prince. Immortal and beguiling, he offers a tantalizing future she has only imagined, one she will never possess—unless she claims her extraordinary power to weave life from the brink of death.

In the lyrical fantasy tradition of Margaret Rogerson and Holly Black, D. Wallace Peach spins a spellbinding tale of magic, resilience, and the transformative potency of tales—a tapestry woven with peril and hope set against the frigid backdrop of an eternal winter.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

A wicker basket of colorful spools rested at my feet. I picked through the bewitched thread my mother had hand-spun long before my birth. No matter how many seasons passed, the spools unwound and unwound, and I no longer fretted about reaching their ends. There was no end to magic, no end to the seasons, no end to my place on the cusp of two worlds.

A delicate pink caught my eye, a color crafted from the cherry blossoms bordering my garden. I held it against the tapestry, testing its suitability for flowering plum trees and coral bells I’d stitch into the meadows and along the forest’s edge.

“Should you desire my opinion, Erith,” a small voice piped up, “it requires a touch of carnation and a shimmer of sunshine. On the dogwood blossoms as well.”

“I wondered about those.” My gaze rose to my knee-high hospet. He sat cross-legged on the hearthstone in front of our shrinking fire, cracking walnuts with his sharp teeth. The creature blinked at me with eyes as clear as spring water, his waistcoat buttoned, cheeks rosy, and cinnamon hair parted in the middle like a magistrate. Nobbin kept my wood and moss cottage tidy, expecting little beyond customary respect and an occasional outfit when his garments aged past mending.

He also took it upon himself to offer artistic advice since my mother had chosen to join my father in the underworld.

“I might leave them as they are,” I said. “Dogwoods are white.”

Nobbin’s eyebrows tilted up in an expression of devilish skepticism. “Spring’s princess will agree with me. Give it a brush of magic. I know you dabble when I’m otherwise occupied.”

“You spy on me?”

“I’m observant. And I’m charmed.” He flicked his handcloth at the window. “Snow doesn’t glitter like that without your touch, my girl. You added that sparkle to your mother’s tapestry, and it impressed the Winter King.”

“Do you think so?” A blush heated my cheeks. “From what I’ve gathered, he’s not one to dole out compliments.”

“None of them are.” Nobbin held up a nut as if inspecting a precious gem. “Such is the nature of immortals. Add a layer of royalty on top, and we are lucky they don’t dismember anyone or anything tarnishing their crowns.”

“Dismember?” I cringed at the grisly thought and drew my black shawl around my shoulders. “My mother told me the courtiers are kind and cruel in equal measure. Without good reason for either.”

Not one to speak with his mouth full, Nobbin raised a finger and swallowed a morsel of walnut. “Indeed, they’re notoriously whimsical. But you are their weaver, and every artist must begin somewhere. You will earn your place, Erith, though it is no simple task to prove your power and demand respect. Spring is the first tapestry you may claim as your own creation, and it is a glorious start. I have untold faith in you.”

I smiled gratefully and stifled a shudder at the challenge ahead. Despite Nobbin’s trust in me, my confidence wavered like a weathervane on a gusty day. I’d done my best, and it would have to serve. The seasons’ rulers wouldn’t dismember me on a whim. I hoped.

Author Bio:

Best-selling author D. Wallace Peach grew up surrounded by her father’s well-loved paperback books. Fantasy was a staple, but it was Tolkien’s The Hobbit that planted the seeds which would grow into a passion for writing.

Peach started writing later in life when years of working in business surrendered to a full-time indulgence in the imaginative world of books. She was instantly hooked.
In addition to fantasy books, Peach’s publishing career includes participation in various anthologies featuring short stories, flash fiction, and poetry. She’s an avid supporter of the arts in her local community, organizing and publishing annual anthologies of Oregon prose, poetry, and photography.
Peach lives in a log cabin amongst the tall evergreens and emerald moss of Oregon’s rainforest with her husband, two owls, a horde of bats, and the occasional family of coyotes.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Myths of the Mirror


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.

$25 GC – Sanctuary by Ginny Fite @goddessfish

SANCTURY Ginny Fite

GENRE:  dystopian speculative fiction

BLURB

Sometimes losing your children is the only way to save them. The year is 2039. Chased by government goons determined to quarantine her and a virus that might kill her at any time, Jean Bennett races a thousand miles to Canada to get her five children to safety. On a journey unlike any they’ve ever taken, Jean learns who she is and what she must do to save her children.

EXCERPT

THE infection hit with such ferocity and speed that all public trans¬port had shut down by the end of my husband’s meeting in DC, sixty-five miles from home. No car, no commuter train, no way out.

In the five hours since he’d arrived in the city that morning, police had blockaded roads and barred highway entrances. Airlines delayed flights and then canceled them. Residents, under threat of arrest, huddled in their homes, and universities restricted students to dorms. Government officials shuttered public buildings, closing, and locking the gates.

Television news showed black-helmeted National Guardsmen herd¬ing panicked tourists back toward their hotels as they stampeded down unfamiliar streets. Coast Guard cutters patrolled the Potomac River; helicopters buzzed overhead. From Capitol Hill to the Ellipse, red lights on Constitution Avenue blinked on and off. Front pages of the morning newspaper skittered across empty streets.

I waited for Ted to call.

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links

Ginny Fite is an award-winning journalist and author of nine traditionally published novels, three collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, and a book of humorous essays on aging. A graduate of Rutgers University and Johns Hopkins University, her 40-year career in communications included posts in newspapers, government, higher education, and a robotics R&D company. Pushcart Prize nominated, shortlisted for the 2019 SFWP prize, a finalist for the 2020 Bakwin Prize, winner of the FAPA gold medal in fiction for the collaborative novel Thoughts & Prayers, her stories have appeared in The Delmarva Review, Women Arts Quarterly Journal, Heartwood Literary Magazine, Coffin Bell, and the Anthology of Appalachian Writers. Writing about ordinary people who grapple with extraordinary circumstances, her novels span the genres of mystery, thriller, adventure, speculative, and women’s fiction. Learn more at GinnyFite.com.

Published novels:

  • Sanctuary
  • Leave Everything You Know Behind
  • The Physics of Things
  • Possession
  • Blue Girl on a Night Dream Sea
  • No End of Bad
  • Lying, Cheating and Occasionally Murder
  • No Good Deed Left Undone
  • Cromwell’s Folly
  • Thoughts & Prayers (co-author)
  • Author Website: https://ginnyfite.com
  • Social Media Handles:
  • Instagram:  http://www.instagram.com/GinnyFite
  • Twitter: http://www.twittere.com/unwrinkledbrain
  • Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ginnyfiteauthor
  • Threads: http://www.threads.com/ginnyfite

Buy links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/40jDdoh

Sunbury Press: https://www.sunburypress.com/collections/all-books/products/sanctuary?variant=42817556217949

 

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Review – Jingles by D F Jones @pumpupyourbook

 

With Christmas Eve fast approaching, Nick must convince Clara to trust in the magic they share before the magic fades forever—and with it, the spirit of Christmas itself.

 

Title: Jingles

Author: D.F. Jones

Publication Date: November 1, 2024

Pages: 96

Genre: Women’s Short Stories/Women’s Fiction

Jingles by USA Today bestselling author D.F. Jones is a heartwarming tale set in the picturesque town of HollyHaven, where Christmas magic is more real than anyone could imagine. At the heart of this magic is Jingles, a beloved Christmas shop that has always been the town’s festive centerpiece. But this year, something is different—the magic is fading, and the very spirit of Christmas hangs in the balance.

Enter Nick, the reluctant heir to the Claus legacy, who’s been tasked with saving Christmas before it’s too late. While Nick knows the pressure is on, he isn’t expecting the key to saving the holiday to come in the form of Clara, a talented baker who runs the town’s cozy café, The Cinnamon Stick. Clara, still healing from past heartbreaks, has wrapped herself in the warmth of her bakery, keeping her heart and belief in magic safely guarded.

As Nick and Clara’s paths cross, sparks fly, and magical happenings begin to unfold around them. Nick sees something special in Clara—something that might just be the answer to restoring the holiday magic. But more than that, he feels a growing connection he can’t explain.

With Christmas Eve fast approaching, Nick must convince Clara to believe in the magic of the season and the love blossoming between them. Together, they must find a way to restore Christmas before it fades away forever.

Jingles is a feel-good, magical romance filled with the joy of the holiday season, perfect for anyone who loves a good dose of Christmas spirit, love, and second chances. It’s a gentle reminder that sometimes, the greatest magic of all is simply believing.

Jingles is available at Amazon at https://amzn.to/3V6kbyu .

MY REVIEW

Jingles by D F Jones is a sweet Christmas novella. Novellas can be hard to rate because they are short and people want to feel they get their money’s worth, which I totally understand. I got Jingles through a tour because ’tis the season.

Jingles is the Christmas shop where more than trinkets are available. Everyone leaves with a little bit of magic added to their day. Nick runs the shop and is the Claus heir, but he has his doubts. Especially after his father, Santa Claus, tells him he must find his Mrs before he can take over the position.

Then, he spots Clara. He asks what she’s reading.

“A bit of fantasy, a dash of romance…Just the recipe for frosty days.”

As magic dwindles and the Christmas spirit fades, decisions will have to be made.

Looking for a quick, feel good story? Give Jingles a try.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
3 Stars
 

Book Excerpt

Nick ran his fingers over the delicate, gilded edges of the ancient book, its weight heavy in his lap, both literally and figuratively. The Saint Nicholas Revelation. The magic of Christmas resting on his shoulders? He had always imagined he’d carry on the family traditions, but not like this—not with the ticking of an unseen celestial clock urging him forward.

His father, Nicholas Sr., stood across from him, eyes weathered by centuries yet still bright with the same magic that pulsed through the very fabric of their family. He had seen countless Christmases come and go, carrying the burden of wonder and joy on his back like a well-worn cloak. But now, the mantle would fall to Nick, and it felt impossibly heavy. Between them hung a silent bond of understanding. The older man had walked this path once before, and while his demeanor was as steadfast as the North Star, Nick could feel his father’s concern beneath the surface.

“What if I don’t want to fulfill the prophecy?” Nick’s voice wavered, betraying the doubt that had crept in under the cover of the predawn hours when uncertainty tends to dig deep.

Nicholas Sr.’s eyes softened, though his voice carried the weight of centuries. “It’s not about wanting, son. It’s about destiny. The magic isn’t just a job—it’s in our blood, the essence of who we are. There was a time when I asked myself the same question.” He paused, his gaze steady as he stepped closer. “But I won’t force you into anything. You’ve always had free will, just as I did. The choice is yours, but know this: without the magic, Christmas as the world knows it might just become another winter day. The joy and hope fade without someone to keep the spark alive.”

Nick swallowed, his throat dry as if the weight of his decision had sucked the moisture from the air. “But what if I fail? What if I’m not strong enough? You’ve had centuries to perfect it… I’m just—” He hesitated, unsure of how to put into words the inadequacy that gnawed at him. “I’m not you.”

A gentle and knowing smile tugged at the corner of his father’s mouth. “I never expected you to be. Each of us carries the magic in our way. I wasn’t my father either. But the magic… it grows with you, Nick. It shapes itself around your heart, your desires, your dreams. And yes, your fears, too.”

Nick’s hands gripped the book’s edges, feeling the ancient, worn leather under his palms. It was alive with an energy he didn’t fully understand yet. “What if the magic’s not enough?”

Nicholas Sr. went to him, placing a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “The magic is always enough. The question is, will you allow it to be? This world, this time we live in, needs more than ever what we have. It needs belief, Nick. Not just in the magic of Christmas but in something greater. In hope, in light, in the power of love to heal what’s broken.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the faint sound of the wind outside, gently brushing against the frosted windowpanes. Nick nodded, feeling the gravity of his potential choice settle over him like a cloak of invisible snow. He looked down at the book in his lap, which now seemed to pulse with ancient, expectant magic as though it were waiting for him to open it to begin the next chapter in their family’s story.

“The magic may be enough,” Nick said, finally meeting his father’s eyes. “But I’m not sure I am.” Nick turned his gaze to the large sash windows, where the snow-covered peaks of Reflection Ridge sparkled like a thousand diamonds under the afternoon sun. The sight was familiar, yet today, it felt distant. For a fleeting moment, he imagined life without the enchantment of the mountain, without the reindeer or the elves bustling about the workshops, and without the secret joy of slipping through time and space to bring wonder to children everywhere. Could he really bear the weight of that loss? “What about the store? What about Jingles? Items are selling like crazy, and the sales help create funds for those in need.”

Nicholas Sr. leaned back, his eyes reflecting the deep connection between their family’s magic and the store. “Jingles isn’t just a store, Nick. It’s an extension of you, of the magic that runs through your veins. Every ornament, every stocking, every trinket sold carries a touch of that magic. It’s why people feel a little more joy when they walk out of those doors, why they believe just a bit more. The magic within you breathes life into Jingles, and in turn, Jingles spreads that magic out into the world.”

Nick’s brows furrowed. “So, you’re saying if I don’t fulfill my destiny—if I step away—the magic in Jingles fades?”

His father nodded slowly. “That’s right. The store thrives because your belief and commitment to Christmas are embedded in every aspect of it. Without that, without you, Jingles becomes just another quaint holiday shop. The enchantment fades. It’s not just about selling ornaments; it’s about keeping the spirit alive. If your magic dims, so does the store’s. It’s all interconnected.”

Nick swallowed hard, the gravity of it all sinking in. But then a thought surfaced, one that gave him hope. “If I want to keep the store after the transition, is that possible?”

His father’s lips curved into a warm smile, the twinkle of Christmas magic in his eyes. “With Christmas magic, everything is possible, Nick. You can continue, Jingles—you can continue everything, but it must come from the heart. The Magic is about more than fulfilling a duty. It’s about love, belief, and a willingness to embrace the unknown. The store can thrive as long as you carry those things with you.”

Nick breathed out slowly, a tiny flicker of reassurance settling within him. He wasn’t just stepping into his father’s shoes—he could make this legacy his own. Nick took a deep breath and exhaled, the weight of the decision pressing in on him. “How does the transition take place, Father?”

Nicholas Sr. smiled, a gleam in his eye that Nick hadn’t seen in a while. “It starts with finding your soul mate. Without Mrs. Claus, the North Pole wouldn’t work how it needs to. Your mother and I have kept this going for centuries, but we’re ready to retire, to hand over the reins, so to speak, to you and a new generation.”

Nick blinked, feeling the ground beneath him shift. The enormity of it all—a legacy more significant than anyone—hit him anew. His father’s words echoed in his mind. A soul mate? It wasn’t just about magic, the North Pole, or Christmas. It was about partnership, about love. That, more than anything, had been the key all along. 

“A soul mate? I don’t understand,” Nick muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of his turmoil. “How does this even work? Am I supposed to conjure her with a spell? How do I find this woman—the one destined to be my partner of Christmas?”

Nicholas Sr. let out a chuckle, the sound tinged with nostalgia. “Love isn’t conjured, Nick. There’s no spell for it, no incantation. It’s not a trick or a treat. She’ll find her way to you, as your mother did to me, turning everything extraordinary in the most mundane moments.”

Nick frowned, the gears of logic turning in his mind. “But how will I even know? What if she’s just—” He waved his hand vaguely, “—some mortal passing through? What if she doesn’t believe in magic at all?”

“Ah,” his father said, his eyes twinkling with a secret knowledge. “That’s the tricky part. The magic only reveals itself to those who believe. She’ll see it if she’s the one, just like your mother did. But you can’t force it. You can’t rush the magic.”

Nick wasn’t convinced. “And what if she doesn’t come at all?” He asked the question again, frustration creeping into his voice like frost over the windowpane. “What if I’m not cut out for this? For love, for magic, for any of it?”

His father tilted his head slightly, his gaze never wavering. “Then we live as mortals, and the world turns,” he said. “We adapt. We let Christmas become just another day on the calendar.”

Nick felt a surge of indignation at the thought. Adapt? That wasn’t in their blood. Adapting was for people who settled, who gave up the extraordinary for the mundane. His jaw tightened, a flicker of resolve igniting deep within him.

“I won’t let that happen,” Nick muttered under his breath, though the conviction rang between them like the unmistakable chime of a sleigh bell.

Nicholas Sr. smiled knowingly, a twinkle in his eye suggesting he’d once stood in this spot, facing the same dilemma. But he didn’t press further, allowing the weight of Nick’s choice to settle around them like the snow falling outside.

The room seemed to hum with ancient magic as if waiting for Nick’s next move. One thing was sure: time wouldn’t wait for him forever.

– Excerpted from Jingles by D.F. Jones, D.F. Jones, 2024. Reprinted with permission.

 
About the Author
 

Ever wonder what it’s like to step into a world where angels, demons, witches, wizards, and time travel collide? That’s the magic D.F. Jones weaves into every story she tells—worlds where the supernatural and romance meet, pulling you in until reality and fantasy blur in the best way possible.

Before she became the USA Today bestselling author, D.F. Jones had a pretty different gig. She worked as a broadcast consultant at an ABC Affiliate in Nashville. But then, in 2015, she decided to downsize her ad agency to take care of her family and focus on something constantly tugging at her heart—writing fiction.

Writing, for her, is more than just putting words on a page. It’s her escape, a place where the stress of everyday life melts away, and anything is possible. And she wants to share that world with you. The stories she crafts aren’t just filled with magic—they’re packed with action, love, and characters you’ll be thinking about long after you turn the last page.

At home, D.F. Jones shares a love story of her own. She’s married to her best friend, a man who keeps her laughing every day. Together, they raised two incredible sons, who are the true lights of her life and the spark behind the heart and soul in her books.

When she’s not writing, you’ll probably find her in her flower garden. She loves the feeling of her hands in the soil, coaxing life from the earth just like she does with her characters on the page.

So, if you’re ready to escape into a world where love and the otherworldly go hand-in-hand, D.F. Jones is the perfect guide. Her books promise adventure, a bit of whimsy, and heart-pounding moments that’ll keep you hooked. Welcome to her world, where the impossible is just the beginning.

Website ➜ http://www.dfjonesauthor.com

Twitter ➜ https://twitter.com/Author_DFJones

Facebook ➜ https://www.facebook.com/DFJones.author

Instagram ➜ https://instagram.com/D.F.Jones_Author

Goodreads ➜ https://www.goodreads.com/GoodreadscomdfjonesAuthor



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$20 GC – You Will Be Peter by Jerry Lathan & Steven Manchester @partnersincr1me

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YOU WILL BE PETER

by Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester

December 2, 2024 – January 10, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

You Will Be Peter by Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester

The extraordinary story of a young fisherman who became the Founding Father of Christianity, the most influential and enduring institution in history.

2023 Paris Book Festival Winner · 2023 New England Book Festival Winner

He’s one of the most well-known figures in cultures around the world, etched into stained glass, painted in frescoes, even caricatured as standing at the gates of heaven with a long white beard and keys in hand. But long before he was portrayed as a venerated and untouchable figure, Peter was simply known as Simon, a twenty-something fisherman in a far-flung Jewish province controlled by the Roman Empire.

Loyal and faithful, impetuous and passionate, Simon’s quiet life is upended by the arrival of a man called Jesus of Nazareth, rumored to be the long-awaited Messiah who would rescue the Jewish people from oppression. When Simon meets Jesus, the mysterious man tells him, “You will be Peter,” a prophetic statement that would slowly transform Simon’s life. Eager to be free of the Romans, Simon joins Jesus in hopes that he can guard this leader who will, undoubtedly, build an army to challenge Rome. But as Simon waits for the army to form, he watches Jesus show a compassion for others Simon has never seen before. The miracles Jesus performs—healing the sick, feeding crowds of thousands—show not a display of military might, but of service and love.

Real, relatable and impeccably researched, You Will Be Peter draws on the four Gospel accounts to weave Simon Peter’s story into one seamless tapestry. Readers get a front-row seat to Simon’s three-year walk with Jesus, as Simon watches the Son of Man feed the hungry, raise the dead, upend the status quo and challenge the elite during one of world history’s most pivotal seasons.

In perhaps one of the greatest miracles, we can see ourselves in Simon, this ordinary man Jesus chose to accompany Him. Simon wasn’t well-educated, but he was faithful and headstrong. Though he could rush to judgment and use a foul word from time to time, he was the kind of friend who loved fiercely and was doggedly loyal—until he wasn’t. Although he failed, Simon wasn’t cast away from Jesus’ mission. In fact, his failures and subsequent redemption made him a more empathetic and capable rock upon whom the Church was built.

With storytelling artistry that transports readers to the first-century world, with the sights, sounds, and smells of that time, You Will Be Peter shares an age-old story told from a new set of eyes: it’s possible for one ordinary person, however unlikely, to change the world forever.

Praise for You Will Be Peter:

“There can be no doubt that Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester are gifted and talented writers . . . and You Will Be Peter is a perfect example.”
~ Joan van Ark, actress, Knots Landing

“Thoroughly researched and biblically accurate, You Will Be Peter is an exciting, emotional roller coaster into the life of the man who became the ‘rock’ upon which the Christian faith would be established.”
~ Robert F. Barrow, Lieutenant Colonel, US Army, ret.

“What a thought-provoking way these authors have made Peter come alive by asking the same questions I ask myself every day: What did Jesus ever see in me? and He must have seen something I either lost or can no longer see in myself. Even today, we as Christians must all ask ourselves these same two questions. Great job! I look forward to your writings on all the disciples.”
~ Jerry Carl, US Congressman, Alabama’s first district

“In You Will Be Peter, Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester expertly weave history, faith, and redemption into an emotionally charged biography. With meticulous research and storytelling artistry, this unique perspective reveals the real person behind the legend—a journey of transformation that will resonate with readers for generations to come.”
~ Orsayor L. Simmons, book blogger, Book Referees

“In You Will Be Peter, Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester tell the story of Jesus’s final years as seen through the eyes of his disciple Simon. Regardless of your belief system, you will relate to Simon, an Everyman who contends with questions, doubts, and awe as he joins the band of brothers surrounding and supporting Jesus. Lathan and Manchester humanize Simon, allowing readers to experience what he and his fellow apostles experienced—while bringing history to vivid life. An absorbing read!”
~ Judith Arnold, USA Today bestselling author

You Will Be Peter is pure inspiration! Lathan and Manchester expertly articulate this biblical history, immersing the reader in the past… You Will Be Peter is a story of belief, faith, love, and, most importantly, the ultimate sacrifice.”
~ Shannon L. Gonzalez, book blogger, Literarily Illumined

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Biographical Novel
Published by: Forefront Books
Publication Date: November 19, 2024
Number of Pages: 400
ISBN: 9781637633472 (ISBN10: 1637633475)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Simon & Schuster

Read an excerpt:

Six Stone Jars

All six travelers arrived in the village of Cana late that Wednesday afternoon. As they traversed the final hill, the valley revealed more orchards and crop fields. Galilee really is beautiful, Simon confirmed. Hopefully, its vineyards produce wines that are just as fine. He was still smiling as they grew closer to the houses huddled together on the hillside.

As they approached the village, the sounds of children’s laughter and joyful conversations were intermixed with the loveliest music. Even the braying donkey sounded happy.

Simon was marveling at the masonry workmanship of the larger buildings, carved from limestone and granite, when Jesus announced, “It appears that we’ve arrived in time.” The rabbi’s smile revealed that he wasn’t surprised.

The traditional wedding procession from the bride’s father’s home to the bridegroom’s was underway. While the minstrel troop played at the front of the convoy, a squad of servants handed out dates to children along the road and wine to those of a more seasoned age.

A young girl, her dark, curly hair protruding from behind a white bridal veil, walked alone. Some of her relatives carried sprays of flowers, while others bore lit torches.

Wonderful, Simon thought. He loved his Jewish customs and celebrations.

Dusk was starting to creep in, as the parade’s onlookers clapped and praised the bride’s semi-concealed beauty. Jesus, Simon, and the others applauded before joining the back of the line, proceeding on to the bridegroom’s home, where the young man would carry his betrothed over the threshold of their new marital home.

Upon arrival, Jesus gestured for his disciples to remove their sandals at the outer door, before proceeding onto the courtyard, which was being used as the reception hall.

From the first step in, Simon was impressed by the stone courtyard, which had been decorated for the great celebration. Adorned in ornamental rugs and cushioned couches, low tables were arranged for the guests to dine; each person would be expected to lay on one elbow with their feet positioned away from the table.

While servants scurried to and fro, carrying food and drink, Simon and his brethren washed their hands and feet, complying with the precepts of the ancient law. Upon drying their extremities, each was officially welcomed with a cup of water drawn from one of the large stone jars.

The sweet notes of a talented musical duo permeated the warm air, the harp and flute creating a simple but elegant symphony.

Quenching his thirst, Simon looked around. Flowers, he noted, there are flowers everywhere. He nodded his appreciation. They’ve turned this courtyard into a garden.

Beyond a table overlaid with bowls of fruits and nuts—even a stack of sweet date cakes—Simon spotted the intricately decorated Chuppah. Ivy, flowers, and greens were wrapped around four legs that had been fashioned from cedar timbers, approximately eight feet in height. It was just wide enough to host the bride, bridegroom, and officiating rabbi. The entire wooden frame was covered in a canopy of flowers—yellow, white, pink, and red—which had been strung together to create breathtaking strands of garland.

The sight of it instantly brought Simon’s thoughts back to his wife. No, he scolded himself, quickly pushing the melancholy out of his head. I’m here now, and I need to be here…and she understands.

Catching the first whiff of roasting lamb, Simon turned to see Jesus and an older woman locked in a lengthy embrace. He needed no introduction to understand the scene. She’s his mother.

Mary was beauty in its purest form. She was not tall, but above medium height. Her oval face was slightly bronzed by the sun. Beneath black, slightly arched brows sat a pair of gentle, olive-colored eyes. Her hair was light and her nose slender, much like her hands. But there’s something more, Simon thought, considering it. She has an unmistakable aura, he finally decided, a striking beauty that can only come from within. He studied the embracing pair further, while they swayed in each other’s arms. And she must be the most beautiful woman, having given birth to the Messiah.

Breaking from the hug, Jesus and Mary held hands, exchanging a long, blissful look that revealed more about their sacred bond than any words ever could.

Jesus then turned to face his disciples. “Mother,” he said, “I would like you to meet my students.”

Without thinking, Simon was the first to step forward.

Jesus smiled. “Mother, this is Simon Peter.”

Rock? Simon swallowed hard, as he considered the peculiar title.

“Simon,” Jesus said, “this is my mother, Mary.”

It was the second time in the simple fisherman’s life that he could feel the air leave his lungs, only to remain lost while he fumbled for the right words. Silence.

Mary was gracious, even angelic. “I hope my son is taking good care of you?” she jumped in.

Simon smiled. “He is,” he managed.

As though offering her blessing, she nodded once.

John was the next to step forward, while Simon’s mind spun in circles. What must it be like to be the mother of the Messiah? he wondered, seeking out one of the servants for another cup of water. And what will it take for the rest of us to truly follow him?

***

Excerpt from You Will Be Peter by Jerry Lathanand Steven Manchester. Copyright 2025 by Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester. Reproduced with permission from Jerry Lathan and Steven Manchester. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author: Jerry Lathan

Jerry Lathan

Jerry Lathan brings a wealth of knowledge in telling the remarkable story of Simon Peter. Combining his lifelong interest of history with a decade of research, Jerry has unearthed missing details on the evolution of Simon—the brash fisherman who became Peter. Over forty-plus years, Jerry’s national award-winning construction company has preserved and restored historic churches and other structures and national monuments. His deep interest in the lives of historic characters is central to his calling to author You Will Be Peter. From Jerry’s time as co-owner of Big Easy Studios in New Orleans where more than twelve major movies were filmed, he understands the incredible power of a good story. In this book, the culmination of his life’s work, Jerry shares the real and relatable story of Simon Peter, the very flawed man whom Jesus chose to build His church.

Catch Up With Jerry Lathan:
www.YouWillBePeter.com
Amazon Author Profile

 

Author: Steven Manchester

Co-Author Steven Manchester is the author of the soul-awakening novel The Menu as well as the 1980s nostalgia-series Bread Bags & Bullies and Lawn Darts & Lemonade. Other works include the #1 bestsellers Twelve Months, The Rockin’ Chair, Pressed Pennies, and Gooseberry Island; the national bestsellers Ashes, The Changing Season, and Three Shoeboxes; the multi-award winning novels Dad and Goodnight Brian; and the heartwarming Christmas movie The Thursday Night Club. His work has appeared on NBC’s TODAY and CBS’s The Early Show; and in Billboard and People magazines. Three of Steven’s short stories were selected for “101 Best” for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. He is a multi-produced playwright as well as the winner of the 2017 Los Angeles Book Festival, 2018 New York Book Festival, 2020 New England Book Festival.

Catch Up With Steven Manchester:
Amazon Author Profile
Facebook

 

 

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