Monday, 17 August 2020

Strong from the Heart by Jon Land

Strong From The Heart by Jon Land Banner

 

 

Strong from the Heart

by Jon Land

on Tour August 17 - September 18, 2020

Synopsis:

Strong from the Heart by Jon Land

Caitlin Strong wages her own personal war on drugs against the true power behind the illicit opioid trade in Strong from the Heart, the blistering and relentless 11th installment in Jon Land's award-winning series.

The drug crisis hits home for fifth generation Texas Ranger Caitlin Strong when the son of her outlaw lover Cort Wesley Masters nearly dies from an opioid overdose. On top of that, she’s dealing with the inexplicable tragedy of a small Texas town where all the residents died in a single night.

When Caitlin realizes that these two pursuits are intrinsically connected, she finds herself following a trail that will take her to the truth behind the crisis that claimed 75,000 lives last year. Just in time, since the same force that has taken over the opiate trade has even more deadly intentions in mind, specifically the murder of tens of millions in pursuit of their even more nefarious goals.

The power base she’s up against―comprised of politicians and Big Pharma, along with corrupt doctors and drug distributors―has successfully beaten back all threats in the past. But they’ve never had to deal with the likes of Caitlin Strong before and have no idea what’s in store when the guns of Texas come calling.

At the root of the conspiracy lies a cabal nestled within the highest corridors of power that’s determined to destroy all threats posed to them. Caitlin and Cort Wesley may have finally met their match, finding themselves isolated and ostracized with nowhere to turn, even as they strive to remain strong from the heart.

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller
Published by: Forge Books
Publication Date: July 28, 2020
Number of Pages: 368
ISBN: 0765384701 (ISBN13: 9780765384706)
Series: A Caitlin Strong Novel, #11
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

San Antonio, Texas

Caitlin Strong pushed her way through the gaggle of reporters and bystanders clustered before the barricade set up just inside the lobby of the Canyon Ridge Elementary School building.

“Look,” she heard somebody say, “the Texas Rangers are here!”

She’d focused her attention on the six men wearing black camo pants and windbreakers labeled I-C-E in big letters on the back, glaring at her from the entrance to the school to which they’d clearly been prevented from entering. She pictured several more Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents stationed at additional exits in case their quarries tried to make a run for it.

“We didn’t call the Rangers,” snarled a bald man, the nametag he was required to wear reading ORLEANS.

“No, sir,” Caitlin told him, “that would’ve been the school principal. She told Dispatch you’d come here to collect some of her students.”

She let her gaze drift to a windowless black truck that looked like a reconfigured SWAT transport vehicle.

“Just following orders, Ranger. Doing our job just like you.”

“My job is to keep the peace, sir.”

“Ours too, so I’m going to assume you’re going to assist our efforts, given that we’re on the same side here.”

“What side would that be?”

Orleans snarled again, seeming to pump air into a head Caitlin figure might’ve been confused for a basketball. “United States government, ma’am.”

“I work for Texas, sir, and the principal told me all the kids you came for were born on Lone Star soil.”

“That’s for a court to decide.”

“Maybe. And, you’re right, the both of us are here because we’ve got a job to do and I respect that, sir, I truly do. My problem is it’s never right in my mind for adults to involve children in somebody else’s mess.”

Canyon Ridge Elementary was located on Stone Oak Parkway, part of San Antonio’s North East Independent School district and featured a comfortable mix of Caucasian and Hispanic students in keeping with the city’s general demographics. The building featured a rounded arch entry where Caitlin could see any number of faces, both child and adult, pressed against the glass. She also glimpsed a heavy chain looped through the double doors to prevent entry, although numerous chairs, boxes, and what looked like an overturned cafeteria table had been piled into place as well. Caitlin pictured similar chains and barricades barring entry at any of the other doors as well, the eyes of both children and adults alike gaping with hope at her arrival through the glass.

“As a Texas Ranger,” Orleans responded finally, “you enjoy a degree of discretion I don’t have. I wish I did, but I don’t. And as long as I don’t, I’ve got orders to follow and that’s where my discretion begins and ends.”

“Where are you from, sir?”

“Not around here, that’s for sure. Does it matter?”

“That ICE is about to take six US citizens, all under the age of ten, into custody matters a lot,” Caitlin told him. “Some might even call it kidnapping.”

“Did you really just say that?”

“Like I said, I’m only trying to keep the peace. Exercise that discretion you mentioned.”

“It’s not your jurisdiction.”

“San Antonio was still part of Texas last time I checked.”

Orleans’ spine stiffened, making him look taller. “Not today, as far as you’re concerned. You don’t want to push this any farther than you already have, Ranger, believe me.”

“It’s about the law, sir—you just said that too. See, the Texas Rangers maintain no Intergovernmental Service Agreement with ICE; neither does the city of San Antonio. And, according to the city’s detainer agreement, a local police officer has to be present whenever you’re staging a raid. And I don’t currently see an officer on site.”

“That’s because this isn’t a raid.”

“What would you call it then?”

Orleans’ face was getting red, taking on the look of sunbaked skin. “There’s a local inside the building now.”

“Right, the school resource officer. What was his name again?”

Orleans worked his mouth around, as if he were chewing the inside of his cheeks.

Caitlin cast her gaze toward the pair of black, unmarked Humvees that must’ve brought the ICE officials here. “You got assault rifles stored in those trucks, sir?”

“Never know when you might need them.”

“Sure, against fourth graders wielding spitballs. Report I got said those and the fifth graders helped barricade the doors.”

“So arrest them and let us do our jobs,” Orleans sneered, his shoulders seeming to widen within the bonds of his flak jacket.

“Be glad to, once you produce the official paperwork that brought you this far.”

“We can give you the names of the students we’re here to detain, Ranger.”

“What about warrants, court orders, something that passes for official?”

Orleans shook his head. “Not necessary.”

“It is for me.” Caitlin took a step closer to him, watching his gaze dip to the SIG Sauer 9-millimeter pistol holstered to her belt.

“Don’t make me the bad guy here, Ranger. I’m doing my job, just like you. You may not like it, all these protesters might not like it, but I don’t suppose they’d disobey the orders of their superiors any more than I can.”

“I know you don’t make the rules, sir, and I respect that, to the point where I have a suggestion: Why don’t you stand down and give me a chance to fetch the kids you’re after from inside before somebody gets hurt?”

A skeptical Orleans nodded stiffly. “Sounds like you’ve come to your senses, Ranger.”

“Never lost them, sir. You’re right about orders and mine were to diffuse the situation through whatever means necessary. That’s what I’m trying to do here. The lawyers can sort things out from that point.”

Orleans hedged a bit. “I didn’t figure something like this fell under Ranger domain.”

“This is Texas, sir. Everything falls under our domain. In this case, we can make that work to your advantage.”

Orleans nodded, his expression dour. “The doors were already chained and barricaded when we got here, Ranger. That means somebody tipped the school off we were coming, even fed them the names of the kids we were coming to pick up.”

“It wasn’t the Rangers,” Caitlin assured him.

“No, but somebody in the Department of Public Safety must’ve been behind the leak after we informed them of our intentions as a courtesy.”

“That’s a separate issue you need to take up with DPS, sir. For now, how about we dial things back a few notches so the two of us can just do our jobs?”

“That sounds good to me, Ranger. The United States government thanks you for your support.”

Caitlin stopped halfway to the school entrance beneath the curved archway and looked back. “Don’t confuse what I’m doing with support, Agent Orleans. When things go from bad to worse, blood often gets spilled. What do you say we do our best to keep the street dry today?”

CHAPTER 2

San Antonio, Texas

Caitlin watched the school’s principal, Mariana Alonzo, unfasten the chains after enough of the makeshift barricade had been removed to allow one of the entry doors to open.

“Thanks for coming, Ranger,” Alonzo greeted, locking the chain back into place.

“I’m sure your sister would have preferred intervening herself, ma’am.”

Alonzo swallowed hard. “Did you mean what you said out there, that you’re going to deliver the kids to ICE?”

“I also said I was here to diffuse the situation through any means necessary.”

Mariana’s Alonzo’s sister Conseulo was a former San Antonio police captain and deputy chief currently climbing the law enforcement ladder at the Department of Public Safety in Austin. She’d called Caitlin immediately after first getting word of ICE’s pending arrival at Canyon Ridge Elementary, though not before alerting her sister to what was coming.

“All six of these kids are honor students, Ranger,” the school principal noted.

“This kind of thing would be just as wrong even if they weren’t, ma’am. I imagine your sister believed that more than anyone. I’m surprised she didn’t come here herself, instead of calling me.”

Now, an hour after that call, the sister of DPS’s Deputy Police Commissioner was looking at Caitlin with the same hope she’d glimpsed on the faces of the kids pressed against the glass.

“She wanted to,” Principal Alonzo said, “but I wasn’t about to let her throw her career away. Then she told me she had another idea. Nobody messes with the Texas Rangers, right?”

“Your sister and I go back a ways, ma’am,” Caitlin told her, not bothering to add that not all their interactions had been positive.

Alonzo steered Caitlin away from the throng of children unable to take their eyes off her badge and gun to a corner of the hall. They stopped beneath an air conditioning baffle blowing bursts of frigid air.

“What now, Ranger?”

“Where are the children, ma’am?”

“In my office,” Alonzo said, tilting her gaze toward an open door through which Caitlin spotted a pair of school secretaries busy fielding a nonstop flurry of phone calls behind their desks. “Be nice to keep as much of a lid on this as possible.”

Caitlin weighed her options. “That lid got blown off when your sister called me in on this. I don’t figure on ICE breaking down the doors, but they’ll wait us out for as long as it takes. Means we need to find a way to take these kids out of their reach.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas.”

***

“You want to do what?” D. W. Tepper, captain of Ranger Company G, blared over the phone.

Caitlin pictured him reaching for a cigarette. “You heard me, Captain.”

“Well, that’s a new one, anyway.”

“First time for everything.”

“Our necks better be made of Silly Putty, if we’re going to stick them out this far.”

“Not the first time for that at all. And put down the Marlboro, D.W.”

“Jeeze, Ranger, what are you, psychic now, like that seven-foot Venezuelan giant of yours?”

“Speaking of Colonel Paz . . .”

CHAPTER 3

San Antonio, Texas

Twenty minutes and another phone call later, Caitlin inspected the three-page document Principal Mariana Alonzo had printed off an email attachment she’d just received.

“You Rangers sure work fast,” she complimented.

“Always been our way,” Caitlin told her, folding the document in thirds so the proper section was face out, “long before there was any such thing as email or even electricity.”

“You ever wonder what it was like ranging in those days?”

“Strongs have been Rangers almost as long as there’s been a Texas. I never really had to wonder, since I’ve heard all the stories about their exploits.”

“I’ve heard of your grandfather, your father too.”

“Well, ma’am, my great-grandad William Ray and my great-great-grandad Steeldust Jack had their share of adventures too.”

“I’d love to have you back some time to talk about that history to our students.”

“Let’s take care of the ones I came here about today first,” Caitlin said, pocketing the now tri-folded set of pages.

***

“You sure about this, Ranger?” Mariana Alonzo said to Caitlin, after bringing the six students from Canyon Ridge Elementary that ICE officers had come to collect from her office to the main lobby, just out of sight from the barricaded entrance.

Caitlin ran her hand through the hair of a trembling girl who looked all of ten years old, then used a tissue to wipe the tear stains from the cheeks of a boy who was all of nine.

“As sure as I am that if we don’t do something fast, ICE might breach the building.”

“What happens then?”

“This is still Texas and I’m still a Texas Ranger, ma’am. Just ask your sister.”

“I did, after she told me you were coming.”

“What’d she say?”

“To stay out of your way. That everything I’d heard was true.”

Caitlin bristled. “I wouldn’t put much stock in those stories. The press is prone to exaggeration.”

Alonzo nodded. “She told me you’d say that too.”

Caitlin felt the boy whose cheeks she’d swiped clean tug at her sleeve.

“Are you going to save us from the bad men?”

She knelt so they were eye-to-eye and laid her hands on his shoulders. “What’s your name, son?”

“Diego. I’m scared.”

“Well, Diego, let me show you what happens to men who scare little kids.”

***

The bald ICE agent named Orleans smirked when Caitlin emerged from the school entrance with the six children ICE had come to collect in tow, school principal Mariana Alonzo bringing up the rear. Cameras clacked and whirred, as she brushed aside microphones thrust in her face.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Orleans said, once Caitlin reached him, her charges gathered protectively behind her. “Good thing you came to your senses. If it makes you feel any better, I hate this part of the job as much as anybody.”

“I hope that’s the case, Agent, I truly do.” Caitlin eased the document Captain Tepper had just emailed from her pocket. “Because this is a duly executed warrant naming these six children as material witnesses to a crime, subject to protection by the Texas Rangers until such time they are called to testify.”

Orleans started to turn red. Caitlin could feel the heat radiating through his uniform, dragging an odor that reminded her of a gym bag with yesterday’s dank workout clothes still stuffed inside.

“You lied to me, Ranger.”

“No, I didn’t, sir. I told you I was here to diffuse the situation and that’s what I’m doing. I said I’d fetch the kids from inside before somebody got hurt, and that’s exactly what I did.”

“You mean, nobody’s been hurt yet, Ranger.” With that, Orleans snatched the warrant from her grasp. “This is bullshit and you know it,” he said, having barely regarded it.

“That’s not for either of us to say, sir. It’s for a court to decide now.”

“You want to tell me what crime exactly these six suspects are material witness to?”

“Did you just call them suspects?”

“Answer my question, Ranger.”

“I’m not at liberty to say, sir. It’s a confidential investigation.”

Orleans turned his gaze on the imposing group of five armed men dressed in black tactical garb behind him, then looked back at Caitlin and smirked again. “So you think we’re just going to let you parade these subjects past us all by yourself? You really think we’re going to just back down and stand aside?”

The blistering roar of an engine almost drowned out his last words, as an extended cab pickup truck riding massive tires tore onto the scene and spun to a halt between the ICE agents and their Humvees. The springs recoiled, as a huge figure with a pair of M4 assault rifles shouldered behind him emerged from the cab, towering over those he passed, including the men with I-C-E embroidered on their jackets.

“This is Colonel Guillermo Paz,” Caitlin told Orleans, “an agent of Homeland Security, just like you, sir. He’s going to help me parade these ‘suspects’ past you.”

***

“Colonel Gee!” a first-grade boy beamed, coming up only to Paz’s waist as he hugged him tight before Paz could lift him into the backseat of his truck. “You remember me from pre-school?”

“Of course I do, Marcus.”

“Do you still work there?”

“No, I moved on. I do that a lot. Learn what I can from a place and then try another.”

“I miss you, Colonel Gee. You never finished the story of what you did to those bad men who tried to hurt you when you went home for your mommy’s funeral.”

“They’re not alive anymore, Marcus.”

“Really?”

Paz fixed his gaze on the ICE agents who’d edged closer, weighing their options. “It’s what happens to bad men.”

***

“Thank you, Colonel,” Caitlin said through the window, eyes even with Paz’s in the driver’s seat.

“’The purpose of life is to contribute in some way to making things better.’”

“Robert Kennedy?”

Paz’s eyes widened. “I’m impressed, Ranger.”

“Just a lucky guess.”

“Edward Bulwer-Lytton didn’t believe in luck. He called it a fancy name for being always at the ready when needed.”

“Describes the two of us pretty well, I suppose.” Caitlin looked at the four kids squeezed into the big pickup’s backseat, Diego and Marcus in the front staring wide-eyed at the giant behind the wheel. “You know where to take them.”

Paz cast his gaze back toward the ICE agents, frozen in place fifteen feet away with scowls plastered across their expressions. “And if they follow?”

“They won’t get very far,” Caitlin told him. “Principal Alonzo yanked out the valve stems on their tires while we were loading the kids.”

***

Caitlin’s phone rang with a call from Captain Tepper, just as Guillermo Paz was driving off and the ICE agents were discovering their flat tires.

“Now who’s psychic, Captain?” she greeted. “Kids are safe and I didn’t even have to shoot anybody.”

“Good thing you saved your bullets, Ranger, ‘cause there’s somewhere else you need to be right now. A town in the desert called Camino Pass, formerly with a population of two hundred and eighty-eight according to the last census.”

“Formerly?”

“Looks like they’re all dead, Ranger. Each and every one of them.”

***

Excerpt from Strong from the Heart by Jon Land. Copyright 2020 by Jon Land. Reproduced with permission from Jon Land. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Jon Land

Jon Land is the USA Today bestselling author of fifty-two books, including eleven featuring Texas Ranger Caitlin Strong. The critically acclaimed series has won more than a dozen awards, including the 2019 International Book Award for Best Thriller for Strong as Steel. He also writes the CAPITAL CRIMES series and received the 2019 Rhode Island Authors Legacy Award for his lifetime of literary achievements. A graduate of Brown University, Land lives in Providence, Rhode Island.

Catch Up With Jon Land On:
JonLandBooks.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Twitter, & Facebook!

 

 

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Itsy Bitsy Spyder (The Spyders #0.5) by Apeksha Rao

~ Book Blitz ~
Itsy Bitsy Spyder (The Spyders #0.5) by Apeksha Rao
Young Adult / Espionage
15th to 17th August


About the Book:
What do you do when your mother feels that you don’t trust her?
If you’re Samira Joshi, and your mother is an elite spy who works for RAW, the first thing you do is … hide the knives.
After that, you go straight to the therapist that she has chosen.
For, when your mother knows seventeen different ways to kill a man, you don’t argue with her. Much.
Unless she’s trying to destroy your dreams.
Then, you fight dirty. Like a spy.
Samira is sweet, sassy, and almost seventeen. She dreams of becoming a badass spy like her parents.
And, why not?
That’s exactly what her parents have trained her to be.
So, why is her mother suddenly acting like a typical Indian mom and pushing her to be a doctor?
Samira can swear on her stack of covert operative manuals that it has something to with her mother’s last mission.
Her therapist disagrees. She feels the key to the mystery lies in Samira’s childhood.
Between her mother’s drama, a trouble-making grandmother, and a confused therapist, Samira’s life is spinning out of control.
What’s a good spy to do when her dreams are in danger?

Book Link:
Goodreads * Amazon



Meet Aaji


Samira’s grandmother can solve any problem, which is why she’s the toast of the Hindu Colony Bhajan Mandal.
Whether it’s a missing servant, a stolen diamond bangle or an errant husband, your one-stop solution for all your issues is Savita Joshi aka Aaji.
If only she could solve her family’s problems as easily.
She’s proud of the fact that her son is a spy, but she would prefer a more conventional daughter-in-law.
 You know … one who doesn’t burn the kitchen down while making a simple omelette.
And, also … doesn’t know quite so many ways to kill someone.
Samira’s Aaji is tired of explaining all the gunshot holes in her daughter in-law’s clothes to curious maids.
She’d rather spend her time running her Bhajan Mandal, and reading the Obituaries page in the newspaper. There’s nothing as satisfying as knowing that you’ve outlived the snotty women who used to look down on you when you were younger.
If only her family would stop fighting. She’s so tired of screaming matches at the breakfast table.
Her grand daughter, Samira, is about to go postal, and rightfully so.
Samira’s mother is being very secretive, which means she’s up to something, and that means Aaji needs to find out what she’s up to.
Unlike Samira, Aaji doesn’t depend on listening devices to know what’s happening in her house.
Aaji. Always. Knows.



About the Author:
Apeksha Rao is a multi genre author from Bangalore.

She is the author of Along Came A Spyder, which is the story of a seventeen year old girl who wants to be spy.

Apeksha has written many short stories based on the same series, The Spyders, which are available on this blog.
She is a voracious reader, and a foodie.

Apeksha's current works in progress: A middle grade book, a chick lit featuring a detective, and a horror novel (the writing of which is giving her sleepless nights).

Apeksha on the Web:



Saturday, 15 August 2020

SUPERBU Homecoming



Fiction (Family Life), Fiction (Pets and Animals), Fiction (Urban)

Date Published: August 15, 2020

 

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You cried with Hachiko. You got spooked and then laughed it off with Scooby Doo. And you fell in love with John Grogan's incorrigible Marley. But you have yet to meet a dog quite like Super Bu .


After years of arguments on the matter, the Bera family has finally decided to bring home a dog.

 

Ajay has wanted a dog since he was a child. He has fantasized about every version of his future life around them.

His brother, Arun, would love to get a dog as much but doesn't mind not having to clean up after one.

Ajit, their father, also wants to get a dog. He just wants to feel the love of a dog again, like he used to when he was a child.

Barnali, Ajit's wife, loathes the idea of having a dog in the house. She spent her childhood praying for only one thing, that she shouldn't get married into a family that has dogs. And until now, she got her wish.

 

But now, Ajay has finally worn out his mother's resilience and the Beras are bringing home a dog. Can this be just the homecoming that the dog or the family had anticipated?

 

Read now and find out.


 

Excerpt

“So, what breed is it?” Mohit, who once had a border collie of his own, was curious and waiting to start drawing parallels from his days with his own dog.

“A dachshund,” Arun replied.

“Oh, that tiny sausage-like dog?” Ajanta burst into a bout of laughter as she asked the question. None of the Beras joined in on her laughter so she let it fizzle out quickly.

“A small dog is actually better for a family that mostly stays indoors,” said Arun.

“Dachshunds can be very irritating, dumb dogs. They keep barking at everyone for no reason,” Mohit added.

“Not at all. I had a dachshund, growing up. I also had a German Shepherd. That dachshund was the most intelligent dog that I have ever seen in my life.” Ajit had been very vocal about that when he pushed Ajay to get a dachshund instead of a German Shepherd as well.

Ajay also decided to participate in the conversation, for a change. “Dachshunds are also tremendously vigilant guard dogs. And they have amazing energy.”

“Maybe, but it has almost no fur. Their skin looks like that of a mongrel on the street,” Ajanta added with twitched, judgmental eyebrows and her characteristic, sarcastic grin. Barnali chimed in as she brought out the now prepared tea and placed the tray on the table, “Actually, if you touch the coat it is extremely smooth and silky. I wish I had hair that silky!”

“Alright, alright! Your dachshund is the most pretty and most intelligent dog in the world,” the conceit in Mohit’s voice was hard to conceal, “but why are you keeping it in hiding? You don’t want us to see it?”

“She has been petrified since yesterday and has not stopped shaking since she arrived. I suppose she is yet to get acclimatized in her new environment. Perhaps also dealing with a bit of separation anxiety after being taken from her mother.” Ajit had evidently been thinking about Bu all morning.

“I’ll go and get her,” said Ajay, and headed back to his grandmother’s room once again. It was a good ten minutes before he came back holding Bu in his arms. The light was brighter in the living room and it accentuated all the ribs that her skin was barely draping.

“She looks like she is dying,” Mohit exclaimed.

 

About the Author

Debarshi Kanjilal (DK) is an urban fiction writer based out of Bangalore, India. His debut novella, Based on Lies, was touted as a gripping psychological thriller by several reputable reviewers. In 2020, DK is back with his second novella, SuperBu: Homecoming, an emotional journey of a family and their dog.

Debarshi ran the ‘God of Absurdity’ blog from 2012 to 2015, which published humorous anecdotes and reflection pieces. He is also an accomplished learning experience design professional who has help shaped adult learning strategy for some of the most well-known organizations in the world.

 

Contact Links

Website

Instagram

Facebook

Goodreads

 

Purchase Link

Amazon 

Free with Kindle Unlimited




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Thursday, 13 August 2020

Truly Madly Crazily in Love by Esha Pandey


~ Book Blitz ~

Truly Madly Crazily in Love by Esha Pandey 




About the Book: 
What happens when you can't let your first love go? What happens when you keep hoping that the one that got away, will be yours again...forever?
Sue is short, vivacious and dreamy. Viv is tall, spirited and focussed. Dressed to the nines on School Social, she bewitches him. He kisses her. She kisses him back. They fall in love. But the kiss that should have sealed their love, becomes their undoing.
Sue is truly, madly and crazily in love with him. There is no one like Viv. She pines for him, but he can't be hers. Days go by and she is still head over heals in love with him.
When she finally lets him go and is ready to start over, he walks into her life again.
Hearts are broken. Promises are shattered. Lives are wrecked. Love is tested.
In a tale transcending time, Sue and Viv weave a story of love like none other. Will hope, trust and love win the test of time? From Lucknow, to Delhi to London, will Sue finally have her happily ever after? Read this sweet romance to find out.


Book Links:
Goodreads * Amazon


Read an Excerpt from Truly Madly Crazily in Love by Esha Pandey


That smile was his undoing. He had fallen madly in love with Sukirti, the girl with a golden heart and the prettiest eyes. He couldn't dare to lose her friendship, so he never complicated their relationship. It was difficult to believe that it had only been three months since they knew each other. They were inseparable. Their classmates and friends teased them, and boys even made kissing sounds when they were alone with Vaibhav, but he maintained that they were friends. In fact, Sukirti had never given him any reason to believe otherwise. She was a perfect friend and never lead him on to believe that she felt more for him. Once, when they were talking on the phone and somehow the conversation had moved to friendship and love, he had come very close to confessing his feelings to her, but his mother's knock on the door had saved him just in time.

“Of course, we will talk on the phone Sue, but practicing like this is much better na,” he said, hiding his disappointment at her not being as affected as he was. All he could do was hope that she would come for the farewell. He had something special planned for her.



About the Author:


Esha Pandey, is an author and a police officer. She made her debut as an author with her book I Will Meet You There, a collection of short stories.
Esha is an Indian Police Service (IPS) officer of the 2010 batch. She has a Masters in International Relations and Masters of Philosophy in American Studies from Jawaharlal Nehru University, Delhi. Before becoming a civil servant, she dabbled with the idea of being a journalist and worked with Times of India as a copyeditor. She has won a United Nations FPA Award for Excellence for the “Best Short Story”.
Esha has kept her passion for writing alive through her tough assignments in policing because writing is music for her soul. Her TDH hero is her partner for life, her husband Rajiv, who supports her in all her endeavors. When she is not doing either, policing or writing, she is busy dealing with her two bundles of naughtiness, her sons.


Esha on the Web:
Twitter * Facebook * Instagram


Chaos Worlds Beyond by C.W.Holocomb



Reflections of Infinity, Book 1
Epic Fantasy
 
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Amid the power struggle for a vast Empire, a young boy is swept along with a Tribe of fearless warriors on their Quest to the Mystical uncharted Crimson World!
As young gods fall to the Worlds from the stars they are born in, appearing as comets streaking across the sky; sentient magical artifacts call to the minds of men: calling with images and promises of power from Wild Worlds. Massive and strange they hold gigantic monsters and wonders that are beyond the scope of the imaginations of the fearless Tribe of warriors that dare to magically travel to them!
 
 
EXCERPT

Within the Obsidian Throne room of the
Imperial Palace
PREMERA

Primus Croatius! The men request your presence in the anteroom immediately! His First said, gasping in excitement. The young soldier spun around, his obsidian armor gleaming as he threw his arms out toward the door and the winding hall beyond, before turning and staring at his Primus, who also happened to be his hero coming up through the ranks, saying with a glint in his gray eyes: “my Leader, surely you have heard! The Emperor is DEAD!”
Primus Croatius slowly turned around to look at his underling, shaking his head with a deep sigh, his hazel eyes glancing down at the ground in demur melancholy, his Premerian obsidian armor clinking at the hinges over his large frame: softened slightly with Palace living in the past few weeks. Overall he thought he looked pretty good for a man of thirty eight sunstrokes, with not one single touch of gray in his thick wavy black hair.
“Why are you so enthused? Our Emperor died today.” He said getting up to walk with the First toward the door anyway. “My Leader, the chamberlains plan to place a mere child on the throne as an heir! Surely, you know what must be done my liege!” Primus Croatius stopped in his tracks, staring over at the man in consternation, narrowing his hazel eyes as he asked: “did you speak of this to the men?” The First looked away from his gaze, his face going red as he stuttered: “y-yes I spoke to them, and they are all behind you my Leader! He said, his deep set brown eyes pleading above his angular clean shaven face.
“Come now Lincian. You know as well as I that the imperial chamberlains will appoint one of their faction to sit the Obsidian Throne as Regent.” Croatius muttered bitterly, addressing the First by his name as the man pulled him insistently on down the ornate winding Kalemian shale corridors, the violet light streaming in from the windows from the bright blue midday sun, hanging in the bright green sky above, gleaming over the shale walls in all the shades of the rainbow.
As they approached the massive double doors to the assembly yard beyond, the air began to thrum with thousands of voices chanting as one beyond. Croatius stumbled to a stop suddenly, as he was finally able to make out what the assembled armies of the Empire were yelling through the door beyond. “I cannot do this Lincian! I cannot be the emperor all of you need!” He yelled running his hands down his face in anxiety as thousands of voices screamed out beyond, over and over again: “Croatius! Croatius! Croatius!” 3
He sat down with a huff leaning back against the doors in indecision with his head resting against the thick wooden doors, the vibrations from the chanting men rattling his skull as his First sank to one knee before him, reaching out to grasp his shoulder; squeezing it reassuringly as he said softly: “The men have chosen you my liege!” Primus Croatius looked up to meet the man’s intense gaze, his hazel eyes hardening in resolve.

About the Author

C.W. Holcomb's works are based on Ancient Myths and folklore. His first series is heavily based on Scottish Folklore of werebeasts that prowl the primordial forests in the distant past! The first novel of his newest series, Chaos: Worlds Beyond is inspired heavily by Greek Mythology; as well as works by well known authors such as C.S. Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien and Raymond E. Feist. The works are filled with passion and adventure on an epic scale where the lure of magical treasures incites the characters into traveling to strange and dangerous magical Worlds filled with Nightmarish monsters and sentient arcane artifacts!

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Wednesday, 12 August 2020

The Soul Collector



Dark Fantasy, Supernatural Suspense
Publisher: Story Bound Publishing
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As I lay trapped inside this quiet realm,
My soul adrift, my body earthbound,
A magical book guards my flight,
Will it keep me safe till morning's light?
 
It begins with darkness. Are they dead, or trapped inside a horrible dream? No one can hear them, see them. Has the world forgotten them? Are they invisible? Not to the Soul Collector. They have stepped into her Kingdom, and she is waiting for them.


Excerpt
Chapter 1

The biggest boxing match of the season landed on a Friday the 13th. But a little thing like superstition had no effect on the newcomer, Jonathan Bayfield, and heavyweight champion, Lou Turlock. The fight fans agreed, stomping their feet while chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” inside the packed, brightly lit arena. Sportscasters got up close and personal, claiming ringside seats for an in-your-face camera view.
Bayfield locked his gaze on his opponent, his right ear taking in Coach’s words.
“Go to the body. Don’t overreach. Straight punches. Got it?” Coach gripped Bayfield’s shoulder. “Hey, eyes on me. Don’t let him get inside your head.”
Bayfield looked at Coach, giving him a slow nod, then reverted his focus back to Turlock, transmitting a defiant “this fight is mine” glare.
Turlock reciprocated, taunting Bayfield with a “we’ll see” sneer.
The vein in Bayfield’s forehead pulsed, spreading a surge of heat through his body. A fist to the gut. That would show the arrogant prick he had something to worry about, rattled through his mind. The ringside bell shattered Bayfield’s thoughts, bouncing him to his feet. Turlock came out swinging, and Bayfield pivoted while throwing a right hook, catching the corner of Turlock’s jaw. Turlock countered, landing a jab to Bayfield’s chest. The blow forced the air from Bayfield’s lungs, his body folding in half. But he quickly sprang upright, shaking off the sting, and fired off several consecutive punches straight into Turlock’s gut.
Turlock wobbled back and the crowd roared, shouting, “Way to go, Bayfield!” Bayfield bounced back and forth on his feet, tapping his gloves to the crowd’s cheers.
Turlock’s own pulse battered against his eardrums. Where was the respect? He was a champion, and these morons had the nerve to cheer for a nobody, some kid who’d happened to land himself a good manager. Adrenaline tipped the scales on the fighter’s rationality. Cognitive thought ceased. The whites of his eyes blazed as he hurtled his body like a weapon, slamming his skull against the kid’s.
A crackling of bones ricocheted inside the ring, causing an eerie silence to fall over the area, before shouts from the crowd came from all sides. The ref barged in, spewing spit as he held Turlock back. Turlock’s gaze traveled over the ref’s shoulder, colliding with the kid’s vacant stare. He knew that look; like no one was home. He’d seen it in his grandpa’s eyes before he’d taken his last breath. An icy chill scurried down Turlock’s spine as the kid crumpled to the mat. Turlock stood still as medics, judges, and more refs flooded the ring, surrounding the kid’s lifeless body.
“I can’t find a pulse.”
“Start compressions.”
Coach pushed his way through the chaos to Bayfield. “Jonathan, can you hear me?” Coach’s voice shook. “Stay…” He blew out a breath. “Stay with me, buddy.”
Bayfield’s eyelids flew open, and with one push, he was on his feet. A weird and wonderful lightness affected his body, which made no sense, being as he weighed 200 pounds. Sounds rushed back, bouncing against his eardrums and forming words—Coach’s words.
“Hold on, Jonathan. The ambulance is on its way.”
Bayfield focused his attention on Coach. “Ambulance?”
“Just hold on. 
Bayfield laughed. “What are you talking about? Coach, I’m standing right behind you. Turn around.”
Coach made no attempt, his focus centered on something in front of him.
Bayfield’s tone rose an octave. “Coach, what gives?”
No answer came, not from Coach, nor from any of the other people hovering around him.
Bayfield skimmed the faces of the crowd, searching for a clue or hint to enlighten him on what the hell was happening. Why was everyone ignoring him?
“Step aside, people,” security broadcasted with authority, herding the crowd back. “Let the paramedics through.”
“Paramedics? Who got hurt?” Bayfield’s gaze darted to Turlock, where men in dark blue suits surrounded him, escorting him toward the locker room. Bayfield let his gaze grow distant. He had no memory of the fight ending, and his boxing gloves were missing. No one acknowledged him. None of it made sense. He gave his head a good shake. “Gotta be an explanation for all this.” As his vision cleared, it centered on the paramedics rolling a lifeless body away on a stretcher—his body!
His brain skidded to a stop—no pause, no rewind, no press play. Just a complete stop. Was he being punk’d? Was this some kind of sick joke? His gaze followed the stretcher, catching the tail end of it slipping inside the ambulance. Coach followed, his hands running through his salt and pepper hair. The look of sheer terror etched across Coach’s pale face slammed against Bayfield’s brain. This was no joke. This was real, and that ambulance was about to take off with his body.
Bayfield launched across the ring, catapulting over the ropes and sailing inside the ambulance seconds before the doors closed and the siren sang out. He plopped down next to Coach, his gaze transfixed on his own body lying across from him. One massive, purplish bruise swallowed up his bloodied forehead. Bayfield couldn’t explain it—couldn’t understand it. “I’m sitting here, but also lying there. How is that possible?” In a momentary shift, his eyes found Coach’s, thirsty for an answer. None came. The silence sent a chill down Bayfield’s spine.
A paramedic with tattoos blazing down his arms informed, “Got a pulse,”—his intense blue eyes narrowed—“but it’s thready.”
The paramedic behind the wheel, sprouting a six o’clock shadow, lobbed a reply over his shoulder. “Letting dispatch know we’re five minutes out.”
Coach gripped his hands, squeezing the blood from his knuckles. “Getting a pulse, even a weak one, is a good thing, right?”
The tattooed paramedic waited a good minute before saying, “For now, yes.”

About the Author

LAURA DALEO is the author of five books. She is best known for her storytelling of the vampiric persuasion. Her most recent work, The Vampire Within, is the third book in her Immortal Kiss series. The series is an interesting twist on the Egyptian pantheon being the original vampires. Her current project, The Doll, is her first sci fi tale, with a touch of mystery. She lives in sunny San Diego, California, with her three dogs, Stuart, Morgan, and Dexter.
 
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Tuesday, 11 August 2020

Where Birds Fly: The Sculptor (The New York Artists Series...After Dark #1) by Cathrine Goldstein

Where Birds Fly: The Sculptor (The New York Artists Series...After Dark #1) 
by Cathrine Goldstein 
Genre: NA/Adult Contemporary Romance/Slice-of-Life 
Release Date: October 9th 2020 

Summary: 

On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, Kimberly Rayne, “O,” moves to New York City to take her shot at becoming the painter she’s always dreamed she could be. But her desires run deeper; this is O’s chance to finally be with the one man she has loved since she was twelve years old, her older sister’s best friend and world-famous sculptor, thirty-eight-year-old, Douglas Craven. 

For all those years “Cray” had never thought of himself as anything more than a mentor to O. Why would he? She was just an extremely talented kid who needed guidance. But lately, he can’t even look at her without thinking more… 

Driven by his demons and taboo feelings, Cray sinks deeper into darkness. Terrified of a past that haunts her, O controls her life by abusing diet pills. As their lives plummet downward, they find their paths are inextricably linked. But can Cray ever overcome his oppressive guilt and have a life with O? And will O ever end her self-sabotage to be with Cray and become the artist they both know she can?


About the Author
I am a bestselling author who writes gritty, real-feeling books in the genres of YA, NA; women’s fiction; and romance. I’m the author of The New York Artists Series, standalone novels about strong, artistic men, and the smart, unexpected women they fall for; The Letting series, YA dystopian fantasy; and The New York Artists Series…After Dark, standalone, first-person stories with darker subject matter and even more tension… ðŸ˜‰  I began my career as an award-winning playwright, and I am a member of RWA, PAN. I have my BA in English and my MA in Theatre.

I am a fan of Luna Bars, decaf coffee, yoga, Hemingway, and Bukowski—and the loves of my life are my husband and my two young girls.
For more about me and my books, and to find out what’s coming soon, please visit: www.CathrineGoldstein.com