Book Title: Armadas in the Mist (Empire of the House of Thorns series – Book Three) by Christian Klaver Category: YA Fiction (Ages 13-17), 332 pages Genre: YA Fantasy Publisher: CamCat Books Release date: November 2022 Content Rating: PG. It’s very clean.
Book Description:
The Black Shuck’s forces gather just beyond the mist . . .
Captain Justice Kasric knows how complicated family can be. The escalating Human-Faerie war has scattered and wounded her siblings and transformed her parents beyond recognition. After narrowly escaping yet another dangerous clash, fifteen-year-old Justice has had enough. She’s determined to defeat the Black Shuck, the mysterious leader controlling the Faerie invasion of London, but if Justice hopes to stand a chance at victory, she’ll have to do the impossible: reunite her family and lead them against the looming Faerie Armada.
With her mother and brother at the helm of the enemy fleet, and the prophesized Seven Virtues slipping out of reach, Justice more than has her work cut out for her. Even if she can save England, the cost may be higher than she’s willing to pay.
Amateur
sleuths, Erika Shawn-Wheatley, art magazine editor, and Harrison Wheatley, art
history professor, attend a Zoom meeting of individuals from around the globe whose
common goal is to expedite the return of African art looted during the colonial
era. Olivia Chatham, a math instructor
at London University, has just begun speaking about her recent find, a journal
penned by her great-granduncle, Andrew Barrett, active member of the Royal Army
Medical Service during England’s 1897 “punitive expedition” launched against
the Kingdom of Benin.
Olivia is about to
disclose what she hopes the sleuthing duo will bring to light, when the
proceedings are disrupted by an unusual movement in one of the squares on the
grid. Frozen disbelief erupts into a
frenzy of calls for help as the group, including the victim, watch in horror
the enactment of a murder videotaped in real time.
It will not be the only
murder or act of brutality Erika and Harrison encounter in their two-pronged
effort to hunt down the source of violence and unearth a cache of African
treasures alluded to in Barrett’s journal.
Much of the action
takes place in London, scene of the crimes and quest for redemption.
EXCERPT
He wondered now why had it taken such an effort to decide
which of his plans to set in motion. Walking off with an artifact or two from
Franks House, the British Museum’s storage facility in East London, may have
given him his political statement, but at what cost? The place was crawling
with workers in lab coats and masks—conservators, project managers,
photographers, interns, auditors, volunteers—the lot of them engaged in the end
goal of moving 200,000 objects from the museum’s collection of Africa, Oceania,
and the Americans to its nearly spanking new World Conservation and Exhibition
Centre. True, it would not have been an insurmountable task, entering the quiet
road where the quaint redbrick warehouse lay and unobtrusively blending into
the workforce, but then what? Would he have been forced to shoot his way out of
the place at the risk of being gunned down himself? How sordid and at the same
time mundane to mow down an uncalculated number of individuals, only to find
himself a mere casualty sprawled among them. Hell no, he was neither a loony
terrorist nor a crack- head martyr. The plan in place was the more sensible
course, no question about it.
It was restful, hearing below his thoughts the rhythmic
phrase of train wheels clacking against the tracks in lulling repetition. His
calmness surprised him a little, given what lay ahead. His scenario had been
well choreographed, but only on an imagined stage with players moving about
under his ironclad direction. In real life, even the most meticulous plan is
apt to be disrupted by unforeseen circumstances. He knew that it was exactly
1.6 miles from Effingham Junction Station to the mansion on Ockham Lane in
Cobham, Surrey, but was he certain that he would not be accosted by a madman or
struck by lightning on his walk to the place?
If he allowed his thoughts to ramble on in this manner, his
nerves would start acting up. He must lean into the physical moment and move
with it into his destiny. He looked out the window past his reflection and
focused on the indifferent stars.
AUTHOR Bio and Links
An award-winning author of seven novels, Claudia Riess graduated
from Vassar and resides in Manhattan and Westhampton Beach. Her most
recent novel is the fourth book in her art history mystery series. “To
Kingdom Come” will be released in Spring 2022 by Level Best Books. Last
year, Riess signed a second three-book contract with Level Best Books
to continue the series that began with “Stolen Light.” The plot involved
murder, the Italian Renaissance, and the Cuban Revolution—as well as a
love story. The book was chosen by the Vassar travel program coordinator
and the Vassar Latin American professor for distribution to the
participants in their 2017 “people-to-people” trips to Cuba. The
latest suspense novel set in the art world, sleuths Erika Shawn, art
magazine editor, and Harrison Wheatley, art history professor. Now
married, the couple is caught up in a multiple-murder case involving the
repatriation of African art and artifacts seized by the British in the
late nineteenth century during the colonial era. Much of the action
takes place in London, scene of the crimes and quest for redemption. “Riess uses words as an artist uses a paint brush; the pages come to life.” –Joseph Epstein, Ph.D
“Mystery. Passion. Crime. What more could a book-lover want!” –Elizabeth Cooke, author of the Hotel Marcel Series
An
engaging speaker, Riess has recently given several author talks via
Zoom for libraries* and is scheduled for future Zoom and podcast events
at more venues. Subjects include “Anatomy of a Murder Mystery,”
“Dangerous Liaison: Fiction and History,” and “The Joys and Perils of
Creating a Mystery Series.” Her talks are of interest to both authors
and readers. *“Thank you for a fun evening. It was very interesting to hear about the process of writing.”
–Jocelyn Ozolins, Head of Reference, Shelter Island Library
Claudia
Riess has worked in the editorial departments of The New Yorker
magazine and Holt Rinehart and Winston. She has also edited several art
history monographs. For more about Riess and her work, visit www.claudiariessbooks.com. All four books in the art history mystery series are available through Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com,IndieBound.org and at independent book stores. For bulk discount purchases, contact https://levelbestbooks.wordpress.com.
Frances Wynn, the American-born
Countess of Harleigh, returns in Dianne Freeman’s charming, lighthearted
mystery series set in Victorian England, and finds her wedding day
overshadowed by murder . . .
On the eve of her marriage to George
Hazelton, Frances has a great deal more on her mind than flowers and
seating arrangements. The Connors and the Bainbridges, two families of
American robber barons, have taken up residence in London, and their
bitter rivalry is spilling over into the highest social circles. At the
request of her brother, Alonzo, who is quite taken with Miss Madeline
Connor, Frances has invited the Connor family to her wedding. Meanwhile,
Frances’s mother has invited Mr. Bainbridge, and Frances fears the
wedding may end up being newspaper-worthy for all the wrong reasons.
On the day itself, Frances is relieved
to note that Madeline’s father is not among the guests assembled at the
church. The reason for his absence, however, turns out to be most
unfortunate: Mr. Connor is found murdered in his home. More shocking
still, Alonzo is caught at the scene, holding the murder weapon.
Powerful and ruthless, Connor appears to
have amassed a wealth of enemies alongside his fortune. Frances and
George agree to put their wedding trip on hold to try and clear Alonzo’s
name. But there are secrets to sift through, not just in the Bainbridge
and Connor families, but also in their own. And with a killer
determined to evade discovery at any cost—even if it means taking
another life—Frances’s first days as a newlywed will be perilous indeed .
. .
About Dianne Freeman
Dianne Freeman is the acclaimed author
of the Countess of Harleigh Mystery series. She is an Agatha Award and
Lefty Award winner, as well as a finalist for the prestigious Mary
Higgins Clark Award from Mystery Writers of America. After thirty years
of working in corporate accounting and finance, she now writes
full-time. Born and raised in Michigan, she and her husband split their
time between Michigan and Arizona. Visit her at www.DiFreeman.com.
Although told to stand down now that the Chechen rebel who killed her fiancé is dead, CIA analyst Maggie Jenkins believes otherwise and goes rogue to track down the assassin. Soon it becomes clear that failure to find Zara will have repercussions far beyond the personal, as Maggie uncovers plans for a horrific attack on innocent Americans. Zara is the new face of terrorism–someone who doesn’t fit the profile, who can slip undetected from attack to attack, and who’s intent on pursuing a personal vendetta at any cost.
Chasing Zara from Russia to the war-torn streets of Chechnya, to London, and finally, to the suburbs of Washington, D. C., Maggie risks her life to stop a deadly plot.
Praise for The Wayward Assassin:
“Ouellette, herself a former intelligence analyst for the CIA, imbues the exciting action with authenticity. Readers will want to see more of the wily Maggie . . .” —Publishers Weekly
“Every once in a decade you read a book like The Wayward Spy, which is thrilling, addictive, and sends you reading more thrillers, but you’ll go back to this stunning book by Susan Ouellette and reread this tour de force.” —The Strand Magazine, a Top 12 Book of the Year
Book Details:
Genre: Thriller Published by: CamCat Books Publication Date: March 15, 2022 Number of Pages: 416 ISBN: 0744304784 (ISBN13: 9780744304787) Series: The Wayward Series, Book 2 || Each is a Stand Alone Book Purchase Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | IndieBound.Org | CamCat Books
Read an excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
CIA Headquarters, August 16, 2004
Maggie Jenkins strode across the parking lot to the sidewalk that led her past the “Bubble,” the CIA’s white, dome-shaped auditorium. Just ahead, she paused at the bronze statue of Nathan Hale, the first American to be executed for spying for his country. A half dozen quarters lay scattered at his feet, left there by superstitious CIA employees hoping to garner good luck before deploying overseas. She fished around in her purse for a quarter, which she placed carefully atop Hale’s left shoe.
In just a few minutes, Maggie would learn whether her six-month deployment to the US embassy in Moscow had been approved. Even though Warner Thompson, the CIA’s deputy director for operations, had advocated on her behalf, there were several others, including an Agency psychiatrist and a team of polygraphers who were not convinced that she should be stationed overseas. She’s not ready yet, the shrink had opined, as if she were a piece of fruit not quite ripe enough for picking.
“Wish me luck,” she said to the statue as she turned for the entrance ahead. The CIA’s headquarters comprised two main buildings, both seven stories high, which were linked together by bright hallways with large windows overlooking a grassy courtyard. Maggie worked in the original headquarters building (OHB), which had been built some forty years earlier during the height of the Cold War. From the outside, OHB was a concrete monstrosity with no aesthetically redeeming value, at least in Maggie’s opinion. It reminded her of Soviet architecture—heavy on the concrete, light on the beauty.
And other than the expansive marbled foyer and the posh seventh-floor executive offices, OHB’s interior also was nothing to write home about. Every floor between the first and the seventh looked exactly the same—drab, hushed, windowless hallways lined with vault doors. Behind those heavily fortified doors sat rows of cubicles, a few conference rooms, and cramped offices here and there for mid-level managers.
Maggie pulled open the heavy glass entry door and ducked into a pristine lobby gleaming with white marble-clad walls. Ahead, the Agency’s bright blue logo covered a massive swath of the gray-and-white checked granite floor. To the right stood the Memorial Wall, which was emblazoned with black stars honoring dozens of Agency officers who’d perished in the line of duty. Maggie stopped and bit down on her lip.
The wall was an awesome, solemn reminder of lives given in the defense of freedom. Every time she walked past it, the sharp points of the eighty-fourth star—Steve’s star—ripped another gash in her heart. He’d been working under cover, so no outside friends or relatives had been invited to the ceremony. Warner had sat with her, stoic, as she clutched his hand and stared at the parade of speakers, not hearing a word they said.
She turned her gaze from the wall, slid her badge through the security turnstile, and offered a polite hello to the officer manning the front desk. She bypassed the elevator that she took every day to the fourth floor and made a beeline for the spacious employee cafeteria. In the far corner sat Warner Thompson, nose buried in the Washington Post.
“Morning,” she offered.
Warner rattled the paper and folded it lengthwise. “Coffee?” He pushed a Styrofoam cup across the quartz tabletop and smiled at her. His full head of hair had grayed considerably since last year, but it worked on him, enhancing his gray-flecked eyes and tanned complexion.
“Thanks.” Maggie sat.
“You ready?”
“I guess.” She sipped the coffee, still piping hot and perfectly sweetened. Warner knew her well. “What do you think they’ll say?”
“There’s no reason they should deny you the posting.”
“The psychiatrist thinks I’m obsessed with Zara.”
“He has a point.” Warner leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I told you not to bring her up in your evaluation sessions. If she’s still alive, we’ll find her, Maggie. I promise.”
“There’s no ‘if’ about it.” She waited until a man with a breakfast tray settled at a nearby table, then lowered her voice. “I saw her fleeing the farmhouse in Georgia. Who do they think set fire to the place after I escaped with Peter?”
Warner winced, obviously uncomfortable with the reminder of Peter, his former case officer, the one who’d been intimately involved in the murder of Steve, another case officer, and his protégé, nine short months ago. That Steve also had been Maggie’s fiancé made saying what he had to say all the more difficult. “The point is, the Agency needs to think that you’ve moved on from what happened in Georgia before they send you to such a sensitive overseas posting.”
“Moved on? Warner—”
He raised a hand to stop her. They’d had this discussion dozens of times since the previous November. Maggie had made it perfectly clear that there was no moving on, no closure, as people said these days, until she found Zara. “You know what I mean. You have to toe the party line and say you believe that everyone involved in Steve’s murder is dead. Period.”
“I still don’t understand why they won’t at least consider the possibility that Zara got away.”
Warner rubbed his forehead. “Because the Agency wants this to go away. A star operations officer was murdered by a terrorist and the terrorist is dead. It’s a simple, straightforward narrative. They don’t want the press finding out that another Agency employee and a senior US congressman were involved in Steve’s death. Everything is about the war on terror, Maggie. If the media found out that CIA and elected officials were mixed up with terrorists, there would be hell to pay.”
Maggie quoted the Biblical phrase inscribed on a wall in the CIA’s lobby. “The truth shall make you free.” She snorted. “The truth, unless it’s too embarrassing?”
Warner exhaled and shifted in his seat. “Both of us are lucky that the FBI investigation didn’t uncover . . . everything.”
He was right, of course. Last year, Maggie had destroyed classified documents and withheld other evidence from the FBI to protect them both. And Warner had been entangled, albeit unwittingly, with a Russian who had ties to both Zara and the congressman. Had the FBI known any of this, neither of them would be CIA employees today.
Maggie waved to a coworker who stared from the nearby coffee station. Warner didn’t frequent the employee cafeteria, so his appearance was sure to raise eyebrows. She’d grown accustomed to sidelong glances inside the Agency’s walls. Everyone recognized her. The media had splashed her face all over television and the internet after Congressman Carvelli’s death. There were some who whispered about her using her fiancé’s death to advance her career. Fortunately, they were in the minority. Most who knew about her role in uncovering the terrorist plot considered her a hero, a designation she refused to embrace. Her actions may have saved thousands of lives, but her motivation had been personal—to clear Steve’s name.
He was no traitor, and she’d proven it.
Maggie glanced at her watch. “We’d better go.”
Warner nodded. They grabbed their coffees and headed for the elevator bank. “Remember, you believe Zara died in the fire at the farmhouse,” Warner reminded her on the way up to the fourth floor.
“That’s what I told the shrink last session, but then he talked to the polygraph people.” Since leaving the House Intelligence Committee to return to the CIA earlier this year, she’d endured three marathon polygraph sessions. Every time, the stupid machine registered deception in her response to questions about whether she intended to violate government policies for her own benefit. “Now he thinks I’m up to something.”
Warner shrugged. “Aren’t you?”
Maggie laughed despite herself. “Always.”
***
Excerpt from The Wayward Assassin by Susan Ouellette. Copyright 2022 by Susan Ouellette. Reproduced with permission from CamCat Books. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Susan Ouellette is the author of The Wayward Spy, a thriller that Publishers Weekly calls a “gripping debut and series launch.” She was born and raised in the suburbs of Boston, where she studied international relations and Russian as both an undergraduate and graduate student. As the Soviet Union teetered on the edge of collapse, she worked as a CIA intelligence analyst. Subsequently, Susan worked on Capitol Hill as a professional staff member for the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence (HPSCI). Since her stint on Capitol Hill, she has worked for several federal consulting firms. Susan lives on a farm outside of Washington, D.C. with her family.
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Deadly Broadcast: A World War II Mystery (Deadly Series) by Kate Parker
About Deadly Broadcast
Deadly Broadcast: A World War II Mystery (Deadly Series) Historical Cozy Mystery 8th in Series Setting – London, from just after Christmas, 1939 until mid-January, 1940 JDP Press (March 8, 2022) Number of Pages ~320 ASIN : B09PWNXQW7
The phony war has dragged out past Christmas into a dark and dreary New Year, 1940.
In the blackout, someone murdered BBC
engineer Frank Kennedy, making him more popular dead than alive. A
blackmailer and bully, he sold out his friends, assaulted his
Broadcasting House colleagues, and sabotaged his employer.
Kennedy was also a government informant
against the IRA. Despite arrests of members, the IRA is still planning
more attacks against British civilians. Attacks Frank Kennedy might have
been involved in.
Britain’s counterintelligence spymaster
orders newspaper reporter Olivia Redmond to find Kennedy’s killer and
learn which of the many motives led to his murder. Olivia quickly learns
how vicious Frank Kennedy was and halfway hopes his killer escapes
hanging.
Until his killer strikes again…
A clean read. No blatant sex, violence, or bad language.
About Kate Parker
Since she was unable to build a time machine in her backyard, Kate Parker
immerses herself in research and then creates the world that lives
inside each book that she writes. Her favorite place is London and her
time travel destination is anywhere from the late Victorian era through
World War II. Since she lives in the Carolinas with her daughter and a
95-pound puppy, the practical side of her is thankful for air
conditioning and all the modern comforts of life. Comforts she will take
with her if she ever figures out how to build her time machine.
Book Title: One Boy’s War by Nancy McDonald Category: Middle-Grade Fiction (Ages 8-12), 134 pages Genre: Historical fiction Publisher: Iguana Books Release date: April, 2020 Content Rating: G. There is no violence, bad language etc. in this book.
Raves for Boy From Berlin by Nancy McDonald:
“Inspired by a true story, Boy from Berlin shares a unique voice in the Holocaust. Highly recommended!”– Jennifer Roy, author of Yellow Star, winner of the Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor Award.
“A compelling introduction to themes of war, courage and identity, certain to engage young readers.” –Trilby Kent, author of Stones for my Father, winner of the TD Canadian Children’s Literary Award.
Book Description:
ENGLAND, SUMMER 1940. Following a brush with death in the Irish Sea, 10-year-old Käfer Avigdor unexpectedly finds himself back in London. There, he stumbles upon a sinister Nazi plot that targets hundreds of people in Britain—including the most powerful man in the country. The one person who might be able to defeat Adolf Hitler. With the Germans threatening to invade England at any moment, Käfer musters all his courage and ingenuity in a valiant effort to thwart the Nazis. But will he succeed in time to save the day? One Boy’s War, the sequel to Boy from Berlin, is inspired by real people and historical events.
Book Title: Boy from Berlin by Nancy McDonald Category: Middle-Grade Fiction (Ages 8-12), 142 pages Genre: Historical fiction Publisher: Iguana Books Release date: May 7, 2018 Format available for review: PDF Tour dates: September 14 to October 2, 2020 Content Rating: G. There is no violence, bad language etc. in this book. Book Description:
Berlin, April 1938. One night, eight-year-old Käfer Avigdor uses his specialty toilet-paper roll binoculars to spy on his Mama and Aunt Charlotte. The whispered conversation he overhears alerts him to a danger he didn’t know existed and starts him rethinking who he really is and where he belongs. Within hours, Käfer and his family flee their comfortable life. In a desperate race to stay one step ahead of the Nazis, Käfer is called on to be braver and more resourceful than he ever imagined possible. But will it be enough? Boy from Berlin is based on real people and actual events.
Nancy McDonald began her career as a journalist on television programs that include W5, Canada AM, and Marketplace before going on to become a sought-after freelance writer, penning everything from documentaries to live-action scripts to comic books. One Boy’s War is the highly anticipated sequel to Boy from Berlin. Nancy lives in Stratford, Ontario, where she revels in Shakespeare, takes theatergoers on tours of the Costume Warehouse, and treads the boards with the Perth County Players. She also works part-time at Fanfare Books, Stratford’s only independent bookseller.
Title: Edge of Death, Book Two of the Admiralty Archives Author: Joni Parker Publisher: Village Green Press LLC Pages: 452 Genre: Urban Fantasy
BOOK
BLURB:
In this
second installment of The Admiralty Archives, the warrior Lady Alexin, the
Keeper of the Keys for the Elf realm of Eledon, finds herself exiled to the
harsh world of near-future London. Rendered little more than a political pawn
by the Elfin Council of Elders to avoid a war with the Rock Elves, she has
little choice but to struggle to find her way in this strange new land. Taken
under the protection of kindly mentors, Vice Admiral Malcolm Teller of the
British Royal Navy and his wife, Alex brings all her skills to the fore as she
uncovers a series of deadly plots.
Murder
is on everyone’s mind as an underground White Supremacist organization takes
aim at Admiral Teller while two wizards, resurrected from death, must kill Alex
in order to survive. To make matters worse, the Rock Elves dispatch a hundred
assassins from Eledon with their sole mission to bring Lady Alexin to the very…
Edge of Death.
Alex had never felt so alone in her entire life. She stared
blankly out the window of the limousine she shared with Admiral Teller and his
staff. Her eyes focused on her reflection as a tear escaped down her cheek. She
swiped it away. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel grateful for their help and
support, but her heart ached—she wanted to go home…to Eledon…to her Elf
grandparents…to her job as the Keeper of the Keys…not to London.
Alex’s mortal father had died when
she was four and she’d been raised by mortals until she turned fifteen. She
thought she’d have a better understanding of life here on Earth, but she
didn’t. She even missed the snooty Council of Elders and the grumpy Chamber
Elf. Helping those mortals had been the worst decision she’d ever made. Over
seven hundred sailors on five ships had been stranded in Eledon and she’d
returned them safely. She brushed away another tear and looked around. Good,
no one’s looking at me. She turned back to the window.
An unusual sound caught her attention and she gazed out the
sunroof of the black limousine. It was a helicopter. Or a chopper. A
helo—whatever they called it. Alex leaned her head back and sighed. What was it doing here? It wasn’t part
of the motorcade. Over the past few weeks, she’d seen a lot of them flying in
and out of Portsmouth’s Royal Naval Base in southern England. The Royal Marines
had told her about them. This one hovered way too close. The pilots smiled and
waved at her, so she waved back. Friendly, she thought, at first. But why were
they wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day? Her instincts told her something
wasn’t right. Who were these men?
Assassins? Why were they waving at me? The hairs on the back of her neck
rose as she thought of the worst-case scenario. The helo was going to attack
them.
She nudged Leftenant Nelson of the
British Royal Navy—the red-haired, fair-skinned man raised his chin, but his
eyes remained fixed on the screen of his mobile. He played a video game to pass
the time.
“Wait.” The
young officer pushed the buttons with his thumbs and stared intensely at the
small screen. The car crashed and the game ended. “Damn it!” He shook his fist
and gritted his teeth. “I can’t get past this level. What in the bloody hell do
you want?” He pulled his ear buds out and turned sharply; his eyes narrowed—his
anger still prevailing.
“Sorry, but
why is that helicopter flying so low?” Alex pointed up. She had learned one
thing about the mortal world—it could be dangerous here.
“It’s just
a traffic helicopter, looking for accidents on the highway.”
“So why are
those men wearing sunglasses? It’s cloudy out.”
“They’re
pilots—they think it makes them look cool.” He waved his hand dismissively and
went back to his game.
“Good.”
Alex felt relieved. Her instincts were wrong. No need to worry. This was normal. Since that night she was supposed to return home to Eledon, but
couldn’t, she wasn’t quite sure what was normal and what wasn’t here in
the mortal world. She relived the scene, repeating in her head on an endless
loop and clenched her jaw. Lord Fissure of the Rock Elves had threatened to
kill her grandfather if she tried to return home—and the sneer on his face told
her that he’d won.
Sitting across from her was Vice
Admiral Sir Malcolm Teller. He was a kind man, but he was a mortal…and a
target. She’d already foiled three assassination attempts on him. He was
targeted by a white supremacist group called the 23rd Infantry, just
because he was a black man. It didn’t make sense to her. Over the past few
weeks, he’d also become her mentor and benefactor and promised to help her find
a way home. But how? He didn’t know
anything about the Elf world. Were there
more entry points somewhere? Even she didn’t know—she was stranded. No, exiled.
Next to him on a laptop computer
was Captain Jonas, a brilliant naval officer and the Admiral’s chief of staff,
who always looked at her with suspicion. Was
there any way to convince him I wasn’t a scout for an alien invasion? She
doubted it. He was a stubborn man.
Over the past few weeks, the
Admiral had taken charge of the return of the sailors, the ships, and the
civilians who’d been stranded in Eledon, while she’d made friends with Captain
Shauna O’Leary, Royal Marines. Alex worked out with the Marines on a daily
basis and learned a lot about the mortal world from them. This morning,
however, she was notified the Admiral had completed his task and would be
leaving for London in an hour. She would have liked more time—she barely had a
chance to say farewell to Shauna. But she packed quickly and got to the
limousine before anyone else.
Alex had no clue what to do next,
but she felt an urgent need to get back to Eledon to protect her grandfather
from those Rock Elves, especially Lord Fissure. Until she figured out how, the
Admiral had offered to let her stay with him and his wife. Without any other
option, she agreed.
Her best hope of getting home was
to find Ecstasy, the wizard. He’d brought her to the mortal world in the first
place, but even Detective Inspector Tyler of Scotland Yard couldn’t find him.
So, how could she?
* * *
Leftenant Nelson tapped her arm. “Hey, Alex. I didn’t mean
to snap at you like that. You didn’t know about the traffic helo. Sorry.”
“It’s all
right. Sorry, I bothered you.” Alex wasn’t really sorry, but thought it was the
polite thing to say. He’d always been pleasant to her. The chopper rose higher
over the vehicle, pacing the limo’s speed on the highway. Its body was made of
glass and metal with pods on either side. Alex stared at it curiously and went back
to her thoughts.
Without
warning, the limo veered off the main highway and exited onto a two-lane
country road. Alex grabbed hold of a handle to her left and sat up straight,
alert for trouble. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened as her head swiveled
around, looking for the source of the problem.
“What’s
going on, Jonas?” Admiral Teller dropped the newspaper onto his lap and looked
over to the Captain.
“I’ll find
out, Admiral.” He pressed a button near his head. “Petty Officer Thomas, where
are we going?”
“Following the security car in
front, Captain. It’ll take us around an accident ahead.”
Captain Jonas glanced at the
traffic on the highway. It wasn’t slowing down and his phone didn’t have any
reported accidents. “Thomas, there aren’t any accidents reported. Call the
security car and get them back on the highway. We have an appointment at the
Ministry this morning.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Yet, the limo continued along the
empty country road.
Thomas reported back. “Captain, no
reply from the security car.”
The Captain grew alarmed; this
wasn’t supposed to happen. He checked his phone again, still no accidents. He
craned his neck to look at the traffic, flowing smoothly on the highway.
The sound of the chopper drew
closer. Alex looked out the sunroof—the pilots grinned. This time, not in a
friendly way. Alarm bells went off in her head.
“I thought the chopper was supposed
to watch traffic on the highway.” Alex looked to Nelson, who was also peering
out the sunroof; his jaw tight and his eyes focused on the chopper.
“I don’t like this.” Captain Jonas
pressed the button. “Thomas, get us out of here!” His eyes narrowed.
“I can’t, sir. We’re boxed in.”
“Leftenant, send out a distress
message immediately!”
Nelson’s thumbs flew over the
screen of his mobile phone, sending out a text message.
Alex felt helpless and she could
tell the men didn’t know what to do either. She turned in her seat to see the
driver’s face in the rearview mirror. His eyes were so wide she could see white
around his pupils as he clutched the steering wheel.
Captain Jonas slammed his laptop
shut and pushed the intercom. “Thomas, take evasive action. Turn left up
ahead.” He turned to his right. “Fasten your seat belt, Admiral. Leftenant,
call for help again.”
The Admiral put on his seatbelt and
Alex tightened hers. The Leftenant sent out another message over his phone.
Thomas slammed on the brakes and turned the limo to the left. The long vehicle
barely made the sharp turn and skidded sideways before it straightened. Then he
stepped on the gas. All at once, he jammed on the brakes and nearly ran into
the chopper as it hovered low over the road.
Alex broke into a sweat. How are we going to get out of this? She
looked to the Admiral, who looked at the Captain. No one had any answers.
“Turn right!” The Captain pointed
to a smaller road.
Thomas quickly turned the limo down
a road which became a dirt path leading into a pasture where black and white
cows munched on grass. The limo broke through a barbed wire fence and drove
into the field. Alex gripped the handle as she bounced in the seat. Oh, my stars!
“Damn it! Turn around! Get us out
of here!” The Captain’s eyes grew large as the chopper followed behind. “Did
you send the message, Nelson?” He pulled the Admiral away from the window as Nelson
frantically texted another distress message.
“Jonas, this car is armored. We’re
safer in here than out there.” The Admiral pointed out the window.
“Thomas, get us out of here!” Jonas
waved his hand forward.
“I can’t, sir! I’ve lost control!”
The steering wheel spun wildly under his hands as the limo fishtailed across
the grass.
Alex rocked to the right as the
chopper’s nose tilted down. “It’s aiming at us!” She pointed out the back
window. The Marines had told her about helos, firing rockets and shooting guns,
but that was in a war zone, not in the English countryside.
Two white streams of churning smoke
fired from the pods on the chopper, exploding just behind the vehicle, kicking
up mounds of dirt, and lifting the rear end. Gunfire strafed the back window,
shattering the glass but remaining intact.
Alex covered her face as the limo
sped through the field, barely missing a cow. Seconds later, the limo ran into
a stone wall and came to an abrupt stop. The airbags deployed and everyone sat
stunned for a few seconds.
“The chopper’s coming around for
another crack at us, Captain.” Leftenant Nelson grabbed the door handle. “Let’s
get out of here!” He scrambled out the door, followed by the rest, jumping
behind a stone wall in front of a stand of trees.
Just as they ducked behind the
wall, the chopper sent two more rockets at the car, which exploded at the rear.
Then it opened fire with machine guns. In spite of the armor plating and
bulletproof glass, the limo was severely damaged—it hissed and steamed.
Alex hunkered down next to Nelson
as bullets pounded against the wall. She’d never felt anything so powerful and
wondered if the wall was strong enough to protect them. It brought back
memories of when she’d been shot, but somehow, she didn’t remember it this way.
Her recent training with the Marines had involved simulated bullets; this
wasn’t the same. Her panic rose. She couldn’t move. Her breathing grew shallow;
sweat dripped off her face. She felt if she was on the edge of death, about to
go over. The men were just as scared as she was.
Her courage was buoyed by a short
lull in the action; she peeked around the wall and saw the chopper back up to
maneuver for another round. I have to do
something.
“Is there a weak point on the
chopper?” Alex asked.
“The rotor on top.” The Captain
pointed up.
As the chopper flew forward, Alex
aimed the palms of her hands at the rotor. “Break!” she shouted. An intense
beam of blue light shot from her hands, knocking the rotor off. The blades
struck the ground, sending dirt and shrapnel in all directions while the cabin
tumbled across the field and exploded.
“What in the bloody hell was that?”
Captain Jonas stared at her—his eyes wide.
“My blue light.” She grinned at
him.
“My God!” The Captain glared at
her. “Don’t do that again!”
Why
was he so surprised? The Captain had seen her use it before when she’d
healed some people. She pressed her lips together in frustration.
“Wicked.” Nelson glanced at her and
nodded, raising an eyebrow.
Wow,
that’s weird. He can raise one eyebrow at a time. At least, Alex thought it
was unusual. She’d never seen…
“Stay down!” Captain Jonas pushed
the Admiral’s head behind the wall as he detected movement to the left. The two
fake security vehicles had arrived on scene. Out of one car, two men in black
ran at them on the left—they were scouts, leading the attack.
“Men on the left.” She nodded to
Leftenant Nelson.
“More on the right.” The Leftenant
grimaced. “We’re screwed.”
“I’ll use my blue light again.”
Alex was about to raise her hands.
“No!” The Captain glared at her.
“Don’t use that thing. It’s unnatural.”
“So are guns. We can’t just sit
here and do nothing.” Then, she had another idea.
About the Author
Fantasy novels are Joni Parker’s writing passion. Thus far,
she’s written two complete series:“The Seaward Isle Saga,” a trilogy, and “The
Chronicles of Eledon,” the award-winning four-book series. Her latest series,
“The Admiralty Archives,” began with the publication of her book, “Curse of the
Sea” and continues with the second book in that series, “Edge of Death.” Her
work extends beyond novels into short stories and blog articles. Joni’s retired
from military and federal government service and devotes her time to writing.
She currently resides in Tucson, Arizona.
The eerie cover of Beneath London’s Fog by Ilona Caldwell makes me think of Jack the Ripper and ghosts. Are you creeped out yet?
Jonathon has made himself a prisoner in Raven Hollow Manor, along with his daughter, Holly. He lost his love, Anna, but her ghostly presence lingers.
His past is coming back to haunt him when a serial killer goes wild in the foggy nights of London.
He is able to transform himself and I loved it. He becomes a cat, a Great Dane, or a mist in the night. Being immortal allows him to see without being seen. He is very protective of Holly and struggles to allow her some freedom. He is easily able to ‘spy’ on her, assuring her safety. After all, he knows first hand the monsters that lurk in the shadows. His oasis is by Anna’s gravesite. He reads Poe and Robert Frost to her.
Holly knows that he is an immortal. Authors have the freedom to create the immortal they want to portray, and I love Ilona Caldwell’s version.
I begin to wish for his happiness, for him to move on and create a new life, without Anna.
Enter…Walter Deverough, a detective on the hunt. I wonder….I feel we’ll be seeing a lot more of him.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and SHE will scorch the earth with her need for revenge.
We, also, have Leland…a hero to the end.
Fast paced. Suspenseful. A vampire of a different color. Great world building as I pictured him walking the streets of London, damp and weary. Ilona Caldwell draws pictures with her words.
I voluntarily reviewed and ARC of Beneath London’s Fog by Ilona Caldwell.
4 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
Jonathan is the immortal master of Raven Hollow Manor – a decrepit mansion riddled with superstition, murder and restless ghosts. Beneath it lies a restless malice.
Its previous owner driven mad, violently kills his guests
with a rusted ax, creating the perfect venue for Jonathan to seclude
himself in a prison of his own device.
When the streets of
London begin to run red with blood; the bodies exhibiting disturbing
signs and baffling wounds, the identity of the killer remains elusive to
police.
The bodies are just the beginning of Jonathan’s
troubles. A mysterious letter accusing Jonathan of committing the
murders appear, raising suspicion in the police. Hidden beneath the
mangled bodies, Jonathan soon realizes he is being forced to face demons
he thought died in a forlorn past he attempted to escape.
One
thing Jonathan knows for certain: He must deal with the demons of his
past if he is to survive his future. Not only him but those he has come
to love as well
ABOUT ILONA CALDWELL
My name is Iona Caldwell. I’m the author of the British Occult Fiction, Beneath London’s Fog set to be published by FyreSyde Publishing October 2019. When I’m not busy weaving worlds of the arcane and dark, I’m spending time out in nature. I love books. My biggest inspirations are H.P Lovecraft, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and Edgar Allen Poe. I blog about many things but mostly everything bookish.
All of my novels are stand-alone novellas, each with a cast of people I hope my readers will come to love as much as I have.
I do accept reviews but they’re very selective and I urge you to check my review policy first.
Zoe was in Serenity Hills because she had tried to kill herself. She was also accused of killing two men. Dr. Channing had taken over her care and was weaning her from the heavy medications she had been on since her admittance. When he told her there was no such thing as ghosts, she told him they had nothing to talk about. He asked her to tell him about Lancaster House. He didn’t think she would answer, but she slowly began to tell him how she fell in love with the house and why she was so desperate to return to it.
The realtor explained about the old Victorian home. It needed a lot of work. She tried to discourage Zoe from going in, let alone buying it, but Zoe could feel the house calling to her. For the second time she thought she saw someone in the window. She laughed with delight at the unexpected finds and oddities of the house. She was intrigued by its idiosyncrasies, the hidden rooms and secret passageways. She loved it. The real estate agent, Barbara, called the builder, Andre Lancaster, peculiar, but Zoe thought him amazing.
The neighbor lady, Mrs Pearson, had come in with them and, while Barbara was busy on the phone, she told Zoe the story of the house. The builder’s wife and a vagrant were found dead in the house. The husband was never found. Everyone thought the house was haunted. But that wasn’t going to stop Zoe.
After making the place livable, her first project was the banister. She worked late into the night, and even though she wanted to finish it, she quit with ten rails to go. In the morning she found it was done. She thought she must have been high from the fumes and turned her mind to the next project.
When she arose the next morning, the piece of wallpaper she had deliberately left unhung, was put up. Also, during the night a blanket had been placed over her. Did she have an uninvited quest living with her? As she thought about it, all the acts were helpful and caring towards her, so she wasn’t afraid, was she?
Still… She went to the courthouse and got the original blue prints. She found the builder had intentionally created an illusion on the outside of the house to hide the additional room. She tore through the wall and found the wife’s bedroom and knew she had been murdered there. But the room was covered in dust and no one could have been in there for a long time. So where was her elusive guest staying?
That night someone broke in and attacked her. Zoe was surprised when another man came to her rescue.
He was shocked that she could see him and speak to him. It wasn’t long before she was wanting more than his help with the house. She wanted him. She wanted to see him, speak to him, be held by him.
Where in the house did he Live? Why can’t he leave? He had told her his name was Andre, but she had never done her research on the house, so the name held no meaning for her.
She questioned if he really existed, but she felt his presence. He was physical, because she saw him, talked to him, touched him, loved him. She couldn’t be imagining him, could she?
4 – Would Highly Recommend To Others
This was definitely a different twist on a vampire (?), ghost (?) or madwoman (?) story. I got about halfway through and thought WT. Never saw that coming. Now I get it, or do I?
A psychological thriller that will keep you guessing. The minute you think you have the answer, you better think again.
The plot had me guessing if HE was real or not, but I’m a reader, not Zoe, so it is totally feasible to me. The book was well written and I liked that it took a twist here and there. Not your typical vampire or ghost story. Or even that of a locked up mad woman. As soon as I thought I had it figured out, something else would happen and I would be wondering, what now? Definitely messed with my mind, had my head spinning. And still does.
What would you do if you had an uninvited guest in your house? Would you believe it was supernatural or would you think your mind was playing tricks on you? Even though you felt him, touched him, kissed him, would you be able to hold to your belief while everyone is telling you that you are wrong? That is Zoe’s situation.
Zoe was confident in her knowledge of Andre, no matter what anyone else tried to tell her. All she cared about was being with Andre. He tried to make her see they couldn’t have a relationship, that they lived in different worlds – his was supernatural and she couldn’t join him there, or could she?
I felt the doctor was arrogant and controlling, and I really didn’t like him. He became obsessed with Zoe and lost his perspective. Maybe he’s the one who needs help. lol
Shortly into the book, I thought, this will be a three. It quickly turned into a four, for the simple reason I began to read faster and faster. I had to know what was going to happen next. The writing was captivating and took me deeper into the story as it built to its suspenseful ending.
The end will take you away. Just hope you don’t end up in Serenity Hills with Zoe.
I received this book in return for an honest and unbiased review.
Book II: the middle aisle has just been released. To get your copy of either book, scroll down and click on the cover.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
.
Taylor Dean lives in Texas and is the mother of four grown children. Upon finding herself with an empty nest, she began to write the stories that were always wandering around in her head, quickly finding that she had a passion for writing, specifically romance. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary, or suspense-you’ll find all sub-genres of romance in her line-up.
To find out what Taylor Dean is up to, follow the links below:
Three days of darkness, then all hell breaks loose.
My name is Emma Spade and this is my story.
.
Finals were a killer, but now I was off to Los Angeles to check out graduate schools. All I had to do was turn in my term paper, and I was running late. I tore over to Professor Winnie’s office. When I went in, I was shocked. He looked half dead. I asked if he was okay and he asked me if they’d come. I asked him who? “Them”, he said. “Death.”
I awoke from the nightmare and was afraid to open my eyes. I could feel something was wrong and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what. I knew it to be true before I saw it – I was alone on the plane. I realized we had landed, but why didn’t anyone wake me?
Everyone knows LAX is one of the busiest airports in the world – so, where was everyone? Luggage was left sitting everywhere I looked, with clothes spilling out. It looked like the bags had walked in by themselves and started to unpack. Was it terrorists?
I heard a ringing phone and ran to answer it. There had to be a person on the other end of the line. It quit, right as I got there. How many times has that happened to you? How can the quiet be so loud?
I had so many questions running through my mind, as I tried to make sense of what was happening, or should I say, not happening, around me. When things are bad, of course there is no cell service, but I was able to call my boyfriend, Sullivan, from a pay phone. He hadn’t seen any TV, but had heard nothing about anything going on in LA.
I heard the approach of heavy footsteps and hung up the phone. Five men came up to me. I was six feet tall and still had to look up at them. The leader, I named him Burns, asked me if I was traveling alone. I told him yes and was led to a room that looked more like a jail cell.
Burns introduced the man sitting at the table as Mr. Meyers. He began asking me questions. He told me because he liked me (yeah, right, he didn’t even know me) he was going to tell me the truth – it was bio-terrorism. Of course, I knew it was a lie. I didn’t know what the truth was, so I lied right back. I lied about everything.
Before I knew it, he pulled out a gun and shot me with a dart. He pulled on a pair of gloves, smacked me around, grabbed my hair and drug me into a room with an exam table. There was blood all over everything. He came at me again. I grabbed his balls, squeezing as hard as I could, and gouged at his eyes until they popped out of his head. Blood and gore was oozing down his face and over my hands. I tipped over the table and grabbed the biggest scalpel I could find. But he didn’t move.
Even though I couldn’t walk, my legs were useless, I was able to crawl out the window and fall into the parking garage. But now what? I couldn’t walk, couldn’t use my legs at all.
I awoke in the morning, after hiding out in a car all night, and I was able to walk. I snuck out of the parking garage and found a cab with the keys in it. I began driving down the empty road, there were only crows in sight. I ran out of gas at LaBrea and Venice, but this was my first trip to LA, so I still didn’t know where I was.
I entered the house, hoping to wash off the blood and guts that were covering me. Maybe even find some help. I heard something in the closet. The question was, should I jerk it open or do it slow?
It was a dog. I was afraid to move, afraid it might rip my throat out. Instead, it licked my face. I could see it was starving, its ribs showing. I named him Schizo. I stepped on and broke what looked like a handmade cross, Schizo grabbed it and ran for the door. He was telling me it was time to go. Schizo was acting like Cujo – it was a good thing I listened to him. Little did I know, he had saved my life.
I ran into Cooper and I didn’t know whether to be glad or not, but Schizo seemed to like him. So that had to be good, right? We spent the night in a church and in the morning headed out to find others “like us”.
I told him I had to call my mom, he said that they were all dead and I’d better to get used to it. I had no idea why he said it, but would soon find out.
Cooper Knox: He was at home, because his father had leukemia and he had decided not not go to med school. He needed to keep the business running to be able to afford the treatment his father needed.
Rojas was picking him up and taking him to work while his car was in the shop. On the way he noticed traffic was much lighter than usual.They had heard on the radio that there was a flu epidemic. But Rojas said that his Grandma was pretty sure it was the end of the world, because the blackout had let the darkness in.
They got out of the car at the work-site, there were a lot of crows flying overhead. It creeped them out. It began to rain, so they decided to call it a day and headed home. He arrived and walked into a nightmare he never could have imagined. He grabbed his girlfriend Mel and ran out of the house. A van pulled up and the people inside told us to get in. After some hesitation we did. It didn’t seem like we really had much of a choice. They found out Mel had been bitten and before he could do anything, they opened the door and kicked her out.
After I met Scott, he told me to forget everything I knew – because it was all wrong. As he told me about the UVF, and himself, we headed to the “base”.
Scott had been recruited in the CIA and moved to LA where he met his wife, Mary. When the blackout came, he had to tell Mary their son was taken because of him. Scott had been an assassin, but was promoted to handler and his boss, Mr. Frank proceeded to tell him about his father and Project Sunset. It was the Company’s best kept secret.
We had arrived at Sleepy Storage, our new home.
Ever since I got here, I thought to expect the worse. I had no idea how bad it was going to get.
5 STARS – Would Buy It For Them (lol)
It really surprised me that I could rate a vampire book so high but I just can’t say enough about it.
Both covers are eye-catching. Colorful and simple. The title was short and catchy. I like things that are simple, yet relate to the story.
The writing was outstanding and the details extensive. I haven’t read anything like this before. It was very novel and unique to me. I couldn’t quit reading. It was hard to stay awake, but I just had to know what would happen to Emma. The last quarter of the book just flew by for me.
It was war, but not like any war every fought before. I really had no idea where the book was going. The whole thing was a great surprise.
How could you wrap your head around it, if it was happening to you? What would be going through your mind? Your mind would struggle to make sense of the insensible.
The characters were well defined. Their personalities, feelings and emotion were well developed making me able to feel for them and care about them. I wanted good things to happen for them, but then I would think – hey, wait a minute, you can’t do that.
I laughed when she talked about the stuff in her luggage getting frisky and producing offspring.
The end was…………….well, you’re going to have to read it for yourself, but it will leave you saying, WHAT? It sure did me.
Beck Sherman gave me this book because Laura (at fuonlyknew) and I approached her about doing a tag-team and working together to promote her book. We both like it so much, we wanted to share it with as many others as we could reach.
Giveaway: Beck Sherman has been gracious enough to offer up 3 ebooks for this giveaway. It is International and, as always, easy to enter. Ends September 30,2012.
Just,leave a comment with your email address.
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Be sure and tweet it out to share with your friends and followers, not required.
As always, it is very much appreciated, but not required, if you follow me on twitter and my blog.
To have another chance to win, copy and paste fuonlyknew.
About the Author
Beck Sherman was born and raised in Massachusetts. Beck attended Syracuse University undergrad, has a master’s degree in photojournalism from the University of Westminster, London, and when not writing, enjoys exploring abandoned insane asylums and photo-documenting the things that go bump in the night, when they’re kind enough to pose.
She tried to discourage Zoe from going in, let alone buying it, but Zoe could feel the house calling to her. For the second time she 
When she arose the next morning, the piece of wallpaper she had deliberately left unhung, was put up. Also, during the night a blanket had been placed over her. Did she have an uninvited quest living with her? As she thought about it, all the acts were helpful and caring towards her, so she wasn’t afraid, was she?
4 – Would Highly Recommend To Others
