BOOKS AND BLOGGING PHILOSOPHY

Philosophy is defined as a theory underlying or regarding a sphere of activity or thought. Well, my theory is if I can add at least 10 new books to my Wishlist and move at least 5 older Wishlist selections to my TBR list every month, then life is a ice cream sundae. And if I can find those 10 books from at least 5 new blogs each month then that's the cherry on top.

NEW VISITORS AND OLD- WELCOME!

NEW VISITORS AND OLD- WELCOME!
Well, I've made it almost 5 years now, so for better or worse, I continue on. I tend to blog in spurts as the urge to be creative erupts. As I don't have an artistic bone in my body, you will see very few changes in the layouts. Hey, I'm a reader not an artist like so many of the awesome bloggers I follow. I know you don't always have the time but if you stopped and looked, take a half a minute and say your piece. Recommend a book that you have enjoyed or hated for that matter. Thank you to all who visit.
Oh, and I moved my Google Friend Connect info and share this buttons to the top, as without our friends, who are we?


Showing posts with label Spotlight Post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spotlight Post. Show all posts

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Spotlight & Giveaway For CHANCE AT REDEMPTION by Samatha Harris




Here's a series that should be on your radar!
Chance at Redemption (Madison Square #3)
by Samatha Harris is available now!
Read an excerpt below and be sure to enter the
giveaway found at the end of the post.


Gwen Stevens had a privileged life until her father spoke three little words that turned her world upside down. “You’re cut off.”
Broke and desperate, Gwen is forced to accept a waitressing job, but this glimmer of hope has a price. As if being a cocktail waitress isn’t bad enough, she has to do it in a dive bar called The Den, and her bad luck doesn’t stop there. She also needs to deal with the new owner, a blue-eyed, self-righteous ass determined to make her life miserable.
Liam Sinclair walked away from the entitlement and obligation his family planned for him, vowing to make his own way in the world…
Adjusting to life as a new business owner, Liam has experienced more than his fair share of setbacks. When his only waitress breaks her leg, his sister takes it upon herself to hire a replacement—a spoiled, self-indulgent hothead with too much makeup and more than enough attitude. Gwen represents the world he’s trying to escape, a world of excess and greed that he was never cut out for.
Appearances can be deceiving, and first impressions aren’t always right…
Despite their apparent differences, the tension between them turns to a fiery passion that neither of them can resist. Together they find balance and learn to appreciate the simpler things in life. But Gwen soon discovers that old habits die hard, and one mistake is all it takes to ruin everything.
Forgiveness must be earned, but even a villain deserves a chance at redemption…
GR

Chance at Redemption (Madison Square #3)
by Samatha Harris
Publication Date: May 23, 2017
Publisher: Limitless Publishing

BAM | Indies | Amazon | B&N | TBD


WHAT READER'S ARE SAYING:

" fun opposites attract/ boss & employee romance" - Cyndi, Once Upon a Page

"... story of forgiveness, second chances and starting over" - Tanya, Girl Plus Books

“Anything you want to tell me, little brother?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest and watched me closely to gauge my reaction.
I frowned. “Um, No.”
“Really? Nothing new at all in your life?” She was baiting me into something I was sure was not going to be good.
“I bought a new toaster the other day.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You should see it, it’s pretty sweet. Its toasts Darth Vader’s face into the bread.”
Madison growled in frustration and tossed a breadstick at me.
“Whoa chill cougar,” I laughed.
“Don’t start that.” She pointed her finger at me. “I get enough of that crap from Margot.”
“Okay,” I said as my laughter died down.
“So you really have nothing to share?”
“Like what?”
“Like what’s going on with you and Gwen.” She smiled, her eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs.
“Oh that.” I ducked my head to hide my smile.
“Yes that.”
“Who told you?”
“Sean.”
“What? Who told him?”
“I don’t know, someone at the bar I guess,” she said with a dismissive wave.
“The bar?” Madison shrugged. Then it hit me. “Sam,” I sighed. “Great now everybody knows.”
“Were you hiding it?” 
“No. Not really. We just didn’t want things to be weird at work.”
“Well, here’s a tip, if you don’t want the people you work with to know. Don’t have sex in your office.”
I cringed. Hearing my older sister discuss my sex life was disturbing on a lot of levels.
“So?” she asked.
“So what?”
Madison let out a frustrated groan and rolled her eyes. “So what’s going on between you and Gwen?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer her. Hell I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure I even knew how. I sat back in my chair and played with the edge of my napkin. I was stalling and the look on my sister’s face said she knew it too.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Aren’t you living together?” she asked.
“Kind of,” I said.
“Kind of?” she scoffed. “Her clothes are there, she sleeps in your bed, eats your food, uses your shower.” I nodded and she sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest. “Sounds like living together to me.” 
“It’s not like we’d been dating for a while and I asked her to move in. She needed a place to crash. Everything else came later.”
“Everything else?”
I shrugged. “You know what I mean we were spending a lot of time together and it just happened.”
“What happened?”
“Sex Madison. We had sex.” I leaned back in my seat and relived some of our more creative positions in my head as a grin crept across my face. “Lots and lots of sex.”



Samatha “Sam” Harris lives near Baltimore, Maryland with her husband David and daughter Ava. Born in Florida, she migrated north which most people agree was a little backwards. She has been an artist all of her life, a Tattoo Artist for more than ten years, and a storyteller since she was a kid.
Sam has a slightly unhealthy love for Frank Sinatra, classic movies, and Jazz and Blues music, but her first love will always be reading. From Romance, to Thrillers, to Historical Fiction and everything in between, she loves to become a part of the story. As a writer she tells the stories that she would want to read.


Complete the Rafflecopter below for a chance to win!




Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Spotlight Post & Giveaway For OCEANSIDE MARINE by Jennifer Ann

Will they be able to survive her insecurities and the scrutiny of their friends and family?

Follow the reveal and enter to #win an Oceanside Marine prize pack including a paperback copy of the book, $50 Amazon GC, adult coloring book, and Kate Spade clutch


Title: Oceanside Marine
Series: Kendall Family #4
Author: Jennifer Ann
Genre: Contemporary Military Romance
Release Date: April 24, 2017

Fresh out of the Marine Corps, Braden Kendall has settled into a comfortable routine in SoCal with his 3-legged dog and a handful of good friends. Despite being undeniably handsome and perceived as a lady’s man, he’s lonely and tired of meaningless hookups. After becoming pregnant in her teens, Katie Walker dedicated her life to raising her two sons, putting any romantic notions aside until they flew the nest. Now that she’s on her own and free to date, she struggles with putting her needs first.

Though Katie and Braden aren’t related by blood, their families are intertwined by marriage, making a relationship seem forbidden. Katie always found the cocky Marine attractive, but their considerable age difference made him off limits. Little does she know, Braden has been crushing on her for years and can’t get enough of her quirky personality. When they meet up in Vegas for a family celebration, Braden offers to show her a good time unmatched by anything she’s experienced. Once Katie decides she wants more of what he’s offering, can she survive a judgmental society, her insecurities, and the scrutiny of those closest to her?


Find out more at: Goodreads | Amazon

Excerpt One:

Friday, April 7, 2017

Spotlight For MARK OF DESTINY By Azrael James





Mark of Destiny
Azrael James
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Publisher: Branch Publishing
Date of Publication: 03/02/2017
ISBN-13: 978-1544070278
Number of pages: 403
Cover Artist: T.K. Chapin


Her destiny will change the world forever.

Belstrom—an ancient and mystical land where the Curo Wizards rule and life is cheap.

Tizrah—a lowly armory brat who dreams of one day becoming a warrior but fate has other plans.

Korlin—a recent graduate of the High Wizard’s School of Curogath is tasked with an assignment to eradicate a lost magic system that threatens the very stability of Belstrom. Mark of Destiny weaves together the threads of a captivating fantasy adventure, while remaining epic in scope, and modern in its originality.


Excerpt:

HOLDING HER EYE STEADY UPON the massive wolvike, Tizrah 
silently slid the longbow from her back. The care with which she moved came naturally to her.
The way she slipped unseen and stalked her prey might have even impressed  the elite rangers of Ravenwood Forest, had they been there to see. 
Alas, they were not, and Tizrah was truly and utterly alone as she crept  closer to the herd of colossal beasts feasting merely ten yards away. Flies buzzed loudly, and the odor of fresh blood hung thick in the air.
Tizrah’s heart hammered against her chest. She tried to calm herself using the measured breathing she’d been taught. It wasn’t helping. Sweat poured from her like rain, rolling down her face in droplets that stung her eyes. When she drew as close as she dared, she quietly climbed an ekenwood tree in hopes of finding a better vantage point from which to view the pack.
Breathing a sigh of relief now that she was off the ground, she waited. The branch Tizrah straddled offered a measure of safety, as well as a clear shot, and she sent out a prayer of thanks to Oshawa, who had given her the perfect perch from which to bring down one of the legendary beasts.
This kill would prove her worth before the men of New Hayden. It would change the direction of her life, and that was what Tizrah desired with all her burning heart.
Desperation had drawn her away from her home and directed her feet to the heart of the Labby Forest. When she had caught sight of the wolvike, Tizrah knew that this was to be her chance.
She had only read about the beasts in her worn school books, and the penciled drawings paled in comparison to the frightful creatures which stood less than a stone’s throw away. Nearly seven feet tall, paws to shoulders, the wolvike were imposing to look upon. Their fur resembled freshly fallen snow, and catching sight of the wolvike’s sickle- like, razor sharp teeth, Tizrah was reminded of the fine
blades of the Knights of Eldor.
She knew from her studies that one bite would be enough to bleed a full-grown man out in a matter of minutes. Six—that’s how many of the beasts she counted. They grunted and growled below her as they tore a spotted deer to pieces.
Now, for one to stray from the pack.
Tizrah was patient. She wouldn’t let her arrow fly until victory was assured.
Releasing a long, controlled breath, she relaxed her muscles. Anticipating movement from the pack, she raised the bow to eye level. The largest of the beasts, having had its fill, began to traipse toward the nearby stream.

The moment had arrived.
Drawing her bowstring back with wiry arms, Tizrah followed the wolvike with her steel-tipped arrow.
Stopping dead in its tracks, the beast lifted its head.
Tizrah’s arrow shot across the clearing, impaling the artery running down the side of the beast’s neck. The wolvike toppled, its rapid blood loss dragging it down into the sleep of death.
The rest of the pack bolted, leaving their fallen alpha to 
Tizrah and her blade.
Dropping from the branch, she took a steadying breath, then strode to the trophy. She would need proof of her kill, as she wasn’t strong enough to drag the beast through the forest. I’ll take its eyes, she thought, nearing with her blade poised.
The eyes of a wolvike were unlike any other known mammal within the Four Kingdoms. Used to make costly medicines for the virility of the wealthy, wolvike eyes were extremely valuable. At the grisly sound of her knife cutting into the eye socket, Tizrah blanched. Having completed the unsavory task, she rolled them in an eken leaf and placed them in the leather pouch on the outer side of her main pack for safe keeping.
Bending over the prone form, Tizrah offered a whispered prayer. “Oshawa, Life- Giver, I pray that this death will not go in vain. I pray that it might bring sustenance to the beasts of the forest and afterward enrich the ground upon which it lies.”
Finishing her heartfelt plea, Tizrah stood and took stock of the situation. Three days, the time it would take her to reach home. The Warrior Trials were scheduled to take place five days hence. Perhaps, with proof of her kill, she would be able to convince Jax at the arena to add her name to the list. Dreams danced before her mind’s eye. Picturing herself crowned victor at the completion of the Warrior
Trials set her feet in motion.
Tizrah wasn’t worried about the competition. Her only worry was whether Jax would concede to her request when she offered him the eyes. Years of working with her father in the armory had honed her muscles into steel beneath her skin, and she had hunted and trained in the fighting arts since she was small. Many thought her  edication odd, preferring girls to keep to their traditional roles. Girls were taught to cook, clean, and sew. They were also expected to birth offspring and
take care of the men. Tizrah viewed the societal limitations placed upon her with hatred—not that it was wrong for others, but she wanted something more in life than hiding behind a stove and raising brats for some man.
Shaking her head to clear it of the endless stream of thought, she left the clearing and reentered the forest. Ekenwood trees towered above the various shades of green flora covering the forest floor. The chattering of wild poka birds echoed back  and forth beneath the canopy of branches. How had they ever been trained as messenger birds?
While growing up, she had seen them flying overhead often enough, and she had been curious to know what important messages they might be carrying each time one passed over.
A single shaft of amber light pierced through the tree barrier, distracting from her musings.
Tizrah entered the dazzling luminescence and reveled in its life-giving rays.
She loved the forest above all other places; in the depths of its silence and solitude, she found peace.
Peace with her mother’s death, for Tizrah had wanted her mother to live and had been unable to save her. Disease rarely paid heed to the cries of children.
Peace with the way her father had hidden his broken heart at the bottom of tumblers of ale from the local tavern, instead of comforting his only child.
Tizrah even felt peace in the fact that no matter the trophy she brought with her, her chances of entering the Warrior Trials were slimmer than the dirty beggars who sat pleading for crusts of bread on the outskirts of Silvermeere. If Jax changed his mind, then she might be able to work her way up to fighting on the  battlefield of Echo Flats, or even serve a stint in the Fireblade Mountains,where rumor had it the dragon still lived.
Pulling herself from her musings, Tizrah continued onward. As much as she would have liked to  stay soaking up the rays of sunlight and marveling at the beauty of Oshawa’s greatness, Tizrah knew that for her dreams to be realized, she must trudge forward, allowing the old moment its death while a new moment was born.
After two days of hiking, Tizrah reached the southwest corner of the Labby Forest. She was almost home. Leaving the ancient ekenwood groves, she entered the forest’s area of newer growth that was still recovering from being logged off before the dawn of the Magi Wars.
When the wars ended two centuries past, people had found that the ashenwood tree was far superior in strength to all others. The newly founded Council of Nine had issued a mandate for the loggers to focus their efforts on gathering the stronger wood located in the ironwood and ashenwood forests that lined the southern end of Belstrom. According to the history of New Hayden, Tizrah’s home
had once been a booming hub for logging, but the mandate had dropped its population by half, and afterward, the town had assumed a much slower rate of growth over the centuries.
Running lightly down the dirt path toward home, Tizrah nearly bubbled over with excitement. She imagined her father, Eldim, crafting an exquisite set of armor for her to wear during the Warrior Trials. He would choose fine ossen metal, for it was incredibly strong and lightweight and would reflect sunlight to the blinding of
one’s enemies.
Nearing the western exit of the forest, Tizrah reached a stretch of the path that was open and straight, set between two groves. Halfway across the stretch, she caught movement in the sky. Diving down swiftly and alighting directly in her path was a large, gray and white-speckled gryphon. The beautiful and fearsome creature
held Tizrah with its nerve-rattling gaze. Gryphons were considered the
messengers of Oshawa, and to see one so close was considered either a very good omen or an ominous one.
What could Oshawa’s creature want with her, a lowly armory brat? Nevertheless, she waited, returning its gaze. She had nothing to fear; her heart was right before the One-God.
Seconds passed like centuries until Tizrah noticed a burning sensation sear her right arm. In a flash of radiance, the landscape surrounding her disappeared as she lost consciousness, falling to the ground like a crumpled doll.
The gryphon watched over her as she slept.



AZRAEL JAMES fell in love with Tolkien at the age of twelve leading to a life-long love of fantasy fiction. Writing stories that capture the imagination, James invites readers into a world where magic rules and ordinary life is forgotten. When not spinning tales, James teaches guitar to underprivileged fairy folk. He believes music and love are what binds all life together.





Tour giveaway

Three lucky winners will win a signed copy of Mark of Destiny in paperback.
Drawing will be held on April 18th.



Exclusive Giveaway, enter to win  http://giveaway.azraeljames.com/




Monday, April 3, 2017

Spotlight For OUT OF THE SHADOWS By Ashlee Nicole Bye



Out of the Shadows
Shadowlands#1
Ashlee Nicole Bye
Genre: Mature YA/NA Contemporary
Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Huntuzie Press
Date of Publication: 11 Apr 2017
Cover Artist: James @Go On Write

 Nobody ever said dying would be easy

From the streets of Melbourne to the bowels of Westminster, the delicate balance between life and death that is so painstakingly maintained by the Reapers of The Order of Dark and Light is being tested by the return of an ancient threat. Tensions are rising within the hidden world of The Shadowlands and if this threat is not contained war will be inevitable. And the destruction of the human world is bound to follow in its wake.

Amidst this tension, eighteen year-old Sachi Manning is struggling to cope with the grief and guilt that has plagued her ever since her best friend was murdered six months earlier—that is, until she spots him seemingly alive and well and being held at scythe point by a hooded figure who looks more like a GQ model than the Grim Reaper.

Sachi shouldn’t be able to see through the glamours that shield Shadowlanders from the human world, so the Reaper in question wants some answers. And so begins the craziest couple of weeks of Sachi’s life as she is drawn into a world of mysteries, magic, monsters, and mayhem, encountering dragons, Faeries, soul-sucking Demons, not-so-grim Reapers, and even the Horseman of Death.

With a mix of heart, humour and hair-raising action, Out of the Shadows is the adventure of an after-lifetime, perfect for fans of Cassandra Clare and Kresley Cole.

Amazon      Amazon AU      Amazon UK


EXCERPT
(Opening scene)

As Julian studied the mangled remains of the boy who had once been Campbell Locke, 
it was easy to see how the humans could have mistaken the death for a homicide. The latest in a string of vicious murders by the now infamous “Melbourne Slasher”, who had plagued the
streets of this city for near on three months now—or so the papers said.
            The teenager’s throat had been slashed with what, to human eyes, looked like a
knife. But Julian knew better—that wound was the result of an incredibly sharp claw.
            Julian had positioned himself on a first floor window ledge not ten metres away from
the crime scene. It was the perfect vantage point, or would have been had his
legs not been cramping from the awkward crouching position he’d been forced to
assume in order to balance his tall frame on the narrow ledge. The
preternatural eyesight bestowed upon him almost a century and a half ago
allowed Julian to make out every detail of the narrow alleyway: the ground a
peculiar patchwork of cobbles, concrete, and bitumen; walls the brick exterior
of low rise buildings whose original colour could not be determined through the
layers of graffiti—some of which, Julian had to admit, was quite remarkable.
There was a blue industrial rubbish bin set up against the wall of the
nightclub that backed on to the alley, overflowing with black bags and glass
bottles. Julian could feel the vibration of the heavy bass from the club’s
music thrumming through the walls around him. The song was something modern,
with a powerful female voice interweaving through a thumping dance beat. He
couldn’t say what it was called—it all sounded so similar to him.
            At the mouth of the alley, a row of uniformed police officers stood guard over the
crime scene, sending any curious onlookers on their way. Julian was tempted to
move closer. To walk right up to the crime scene and stand amongst the mingling
investigators. After all, with his invisibility glamour in place no one would
be able to see him.
            But it was a risk he could not afford. He was well aware of how far crime scene
technology had progressed since his time amongst humans. They had something
called “forensics” now, where scientists could track a killer using the
smallest piece of evidence: a drop of blood, a strand of hair, even the tread
of dirt from a foreign location. Julian frowned as he glanced at his boots, the
soles of which were crusted with the remains of the Faery he’d disposed of
three hours earlier. These humans would be baffled enough as it were with the
lack of evidence to be found at this scene, he didn’t think it wise to confuse
them further with the presence of an otherworldly substance. Not to mention
that the invisibility glamour was somehow affected by flash photography—he was
not in the mood to explain to Lord Mortem why there had been a “ghost” sighting
at the most recent “murder” scene. 
            An awareness brushed across Julian’s mind and he immediately looked up, scanning
the rooftop opposite. It didn’t take long to spot Moss; he had his hood down
and even without Julian’s superior vision, it would have been difficult for him
to miss that mop of bleached dreadlocks contrasting starkly against the
midnight sky.
            Julian swept his gaze over the crime scene one last time before letting the ledge fall
away from him. It was a split second of dark emptiness as he passed through the
shadows, and then he was standing on the roof next to Moss.
            ‘Crazy night, dude,’ Moss said in his Floridian surfer drawl.
            Julian ran his eyes over his friend. They had gone their separate ways tonight, and it
was clear by the smears of blood over Moss’s face and the tear in his sleeve
he’d had almost as interesting a night as Julian. Moss always looked slightly
rumpled, though; unlike Julian, who, even after killing the Banshee that had
been about to take centre stage in front of twenty thousand humans under the
guise of a popular musician, a passionate kiss of gratitude from said musician
(whose memory Julian had, most unfortunately, been obligated to alter moments
later), and crouching on the window ledge for a good two hours, was still as
tidy and well-pressed as usual, not a hair out of place.
            ‘You could say that,’ Julian said. Though a hundred and forty years had passed, he
still spoke with the same accent and manner he had cultivated during his life
as the son of an English peer. He would have liked to believe there was little
else from that life that remained, though he knew this was not the case.
            ‘So, this one makes three.’ An uncharacteristically sombre expression crossed Moss’s
face. ‘Any ideas?’
            Julian shook his head. ‘Something with claws—which narrows it down to at least a
thousand Shadowlanders.’
            ‘It’s hot.’ Moss emphasised the statement by rubbing the back of his forearm over his
sweat-streaked brow. It was indeed. The Australian summer was only a week away,
and Melbourne had been hit with a blast of the kind of humidity usually
reserved for the northern parts of the country. ‘That should rule out an
Infernal creature, yeah?’ 
            Julian frowned. ‘I think it would be foolish to rule anything out at this stage.’


Ashlee Nicole Bye is a self-confessed bibliophile, sports fan and music lover. She also writes sometimes—when she’s not busy mastering the art of procrastination, that is. She writes mainly Fantasy, mainly Young Adult, although some of her current works in progress have seen her step firmly outside her comfort zone.

Her first novel is OUT OF THE SHADOWS, a mature young adult contemporary fantasy set in her beloved home town of Melbourne. It is the first installment in the five-book series, SHADOWLANDS, and will be released on Kindle on April 11, with paperback to follow shortly after.




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Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Spotlight For A CALL TO HEAVEN by Jo Kessel


A Call to Heaven
Jo Kessel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
with a paranormal twist
Publisher: J.K Publishing
Date of Publication: Jan 27, 2017
ISBN-13: B91MQU65MT  
Number of pages: 260 paperback
Cover Artist: Ivan Cakic
"Everybody’s loved, everybody’s lost.
Grief strips you raw and makes you feel as if you’re sleepwalking through life, like the pain will never go away.
I’m Amy Tristan. I’m no different than anyone else. I’ve loved, I’ve lost and it sucks. I’ve got a five-year old son and an abusive husband. My mother died six months ago and I miss her like crazy.
I’m the biggest skeptic when it comes to other-worldly stuff, so when I’m told that I can pick up the phone and call my mum in Heaven, I should disbelieve it, right? Wrong. I pick up that phone, because there’s nothing I want more than to hear her voice trickle into the receiver.
And you know what? It works. I get to speak to my mother. It’s a miracle. If only it could stay this way, with those calls just for me, but someone up on high wants me to choose three other people to make a call to Heaven too. Who should I pick? How can I trust them to keep the phone secret? Making the choice is agonizing - if I get it wrong, my calls will stop. I wish I hadn’t told Daniel anything. He’s this hot doctor that I’ve come to know. But doctors are scientists, and scientists are bigger skeptics than even me. He didn’t believe in the phone. He thought I should be admitted to a sanatorium. Telling him was either the best decision of my life, or the worst. I’ll let you decide…"




Amazon US    

Excerpt:

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Spotlight Post & Giveaway For NINE Of STARS by Laura Bickle



Nine of Stars
A Wildlands Novel  
Laura Bickle
On Sale Date: Dec 27, 2016
ISBN: 9780062437662
Genre:  Contemporary Fantasy
Publisher: Harper Voyager

Following on the heels of her critically acclaimed prequel novels Dark Alchemy and Mercury Retrograde comes the first installment in Laura Bickle’s dark contemporary fantasy series, Nine of Stars, a Wildlands Novel.
Winter has always been a deadly season in Temperance, but this time, there’s more to fear than just the cold…As the daughter of an alchemist, Petra Dee has faced all manner of occult horrors—especially since her arrival in the small town of Temperance, Wyoming. But she can’t
explain the creature now stalking the backcountry of Yellowstone, butchering wolves and leaving only their skins behind in the snow. Rumors surface of the return of Skinflint Jack, a nineteenth-century wraith that kills in fulfillment of an ancient bargain. The new sheriff in town, Owen Rutherford, isn’t helping matters. He’s a dangerously
haunted man on the trail of both an unsolved case and a fresh kill—a bizarre murder leading him right to Petra’s partner Gabriel. And while Gabe once had little to fear from the mortal world, he’s all too human now. This time, when violence hits close to home, there are no magical solutions. It’s up to Petra and her coyote sidekick Sig to get ahead of both Owen and the unnatural being hunting them all—before the trail turns deathly cold.

Amazon    HarperCollins      Kobo      GooglePlay      BN

 Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio,

reading entirely too many comic books out

loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll.
After graduating with an MA in
Sociology-Criminology from Ohio State
University and an MLIS in Library
Science from the University of Wisconsin-
Milwaukee, she patrolled the stacks at the
public library and worked with data
systems in criminal justice. She now
dreams up stories about the monsters
under the stairs. Her work has been
included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State
Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016.
More information about Laura’s work can be found at www.laurabickle.com





 EXCERPT

She dreamed of an ache in the marrow of her bones, so much deeper than frost. In her dreams, Petra had dropped into Skinflint Jack’s hand-dug cellar, his underground

ossuary. It was cold and silent there, and her breath made ghosts in the darkness. Light emanated
from the bodies on the bed, from beneath their parchment-thin skin, moving like drifting fireflies underneath the surface. The bodies sat upright, heads turned toward her with empty gazes. Petra would have run away, but she was pinned to the wall. Bones laced over her body like shackles, splitting through the skin of the dirt to wrap around her wrists, ribs, and legs. She tried to turn her head, but it was enclosed in a helmet, the Stag’s skull, and she blinked through the eye
sockets of the Stag. What had he seen? What had he done? She struggled against the weight of the bones, torn
between wanting to know and wanting not to know.
Jack’s wife stood, walking across the floor to Petra in a dress of black lace. Bits of her skin fluttered to the floor, disturbed by Gabe’s autopsy efforts. In her hands, she held the Star of
Antimony, gleaming in the shifting low light. “What happened to you?” Petra asked, her tears blurring her gaze. The tears slid down her cheek, underneath the skull-mask.
The woman didn’t answer; only gazed at Petra with those empty, vacant eye sockets. And Petra realized that her mouth had been sewn shut.



Tour Giveaway

Signed print copy open to US Shipping