Monday, October 19, 2020

Behind Closed Doors by Rachael Reilly



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Rachael Reilly will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Middle school librarian and aspiring writer Julia Morgan's last relationship ended months ago. Once labeled as "boring in the bedroom," she visits Behind Closed Doors, an adult toy store, hoping to spice up her sex life. The aisles of erotic products aren't nearly as hot as the store's sexy owner, but is she brave enough to let a virtual stranger coax her out of her sexual shell?


Read an Excerpt

“I hate surprises.” Julia sighed, the sound drowning out the beer commercial on the car radio.

“No one hates surprises, blue eyes. People say they hate them because they’re control freaks, but no one does.” Clay glanced around before switching lanes on the busy street, moving to the right side. “You’re just going to have to be patient for a few more minutes. But how about this? If we get there and you don’t want to get out of the car, I will turn around and leave. No questions asked.”

“And we can get lunch somewhere?” She patted her stomach as it growled.

“For sure. I don’t want to starve you. You’ll need energy for my plans later anyway.”

“Maybe we should just go back to my house, then? See what we get into there?”

He just chuckled again and shook his head before turning his SUV into the entryway to one of Nashville’s larger parks. His hair fell across his eye again, as it was wont to do.

She reached across to brush the lock off his face before running her fingertips through his facial hair. Keeping her hands off him was difficult. “Are we playing Frisbee in the park? Or going to the museum nearby?”

“Nope and nope.” He tapped his nose, his long, slender fingers distracting her. “But I think if you look at the sign ahead, you might see the plan for now.” A plastic, rectangular sign blew in the fall breeze, Literary Fall Festival emblazoned on it in dark letters.

She squealed and moved forward in her seat. “Literary festival? What? Yes!”

“That’s how you surprise the librarian.” He whooped as he parked his SUV before jogging around to open her door. “Smell that? Popcorn.” He motioned to the food trucks up ahead. “Plus there are new and used books for sale, author signings by the museum, and lectures from people in the biz.”

“Did you just say ‘biz’ and mean it?”

“I believe you heard me. But you said you want to be a published author. Maybe this will help.”

She was so surprised she stopped walking. “Clay, you’re just...amazing.”

How had she gotten so lucky? He’d turned her life upside down overnight, but she loved that he had.

About the Author:
Rachael Reilly is a steamy romance writer living right outside Nashville, Tennessee. She also previously worked as a freelance writer for smaller magazine publications. When not writing things that make her blush, Rachael can be found people watching, reading most anything she can get her hands on, or searching for her own Prince Charming through online dating. These activities are almost always accompanied by a glass of lemonade or cheap wine.

Website: http://www.rachaelreillywrites.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/reillyromance

The book will be on sale for $0.99 from October 16 - October 30.
Book Link: https://amzn.to/32S28Bq

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Thursday, October 15, 2020

Apophis by Raj Anand



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

January, 2022: A dark monstrous twin-headed apparition – Apophis – feverishly races past the expanse of the Milky Way galaxy and bolts to the edge of the solar system. Recklessly accelerating, the sinister rock-dyad enters the gravitational keyhole of the blue planet and continues its resolute inebriated journey – to soon arrive with an apocalyptic impact on Earth.

December, 2012: Five sentient beings born in different cities – New York, Hong Kong, New Delhi, Azores Islands and Istanbul, discover amongst haunting memories of their phantasmal past lives, that it is their destiny to save humanity from the evil forces unleashed by the alien fiends – the Skyllats.

And now, the reincarnated 9-year-olds must rely on their shared, ancient wisdom to prepare humanity for the war across the galaxy that is imminent.

Read an Excerpt

30.45506N, 130.48804E
Isso Town, Yakushima Island, Japan
January 19, 2022 (0700 hours)

“Peter, what is their present position?” the 1.7-meter-tall Claire with a sharp nose and radiant blue eyes inquired, “Quelque chose d’autre a signaler – do you have anything else to report?” She adjusted her glasses, pushing back her long brown hair.

“Herodotus has crossed into the belt, and is travelling at a speed of 346,000 kilometers per hour,” Peter replied, seated next to the astrophysicist, “I am amazed, Claire, how well the mission has progressed so far.”

Their Command and Control Centre located in a narrow peninsula, beyond Mount Yahazudake on Yakushima Island was housed several floors below an old island home that camouflaged its true purpose.

“You really doubted them? Incroyable!” smiled Claire, when she was interrupted by her secretary with an urgent message.

“It is my job to question and doubt,” grinned Peter and turned around. But Claire had already stepped into a high-speed elevator, climbing seven levels up.

A stoic Colonel Yoshimoto dressed in a dark gray suit and a black tie, stood inside a glass partitioned conference room, studying a large photograph of a Mongolian shaman staring ardently at the moon. The rustic house with rice paper screen walls or shoji, that separated the inner office from the outer living area, was capped with a gray shingled sloping roof supported by polished wooden trusses.

Colonel Yoshimoto bowed when Claire entered and addressed him, “How are you, Koki San? I don’t believe we had a meeting scheduled. In fact, I was about to leave for a connecting flight to New York from Kagoshima.”

“We are aware of your flight to New York, Claire San.” Colonel Yoshimoto spoke apprehensively. “So, I shall be brief. About two days ago we received an unexpected signal from the Sentinel Observatory. We have modelled it several times and have arrived at conclusions…that we frankly find deeply disturbing.”

“Koki San, as you are aware, besides Neerja and I there is no one else at Isso, who knows about our Sentinel project in collaboration with JAXA. I am disappointed that our agreed protocol to…”

“The Sentinel Space Telescope detected a new asteroid two days ago, specifically a binary Atira S-type asteroid which appeared suddenly…”

“Sentinel has identified more than three hundred new asteroids in the past two years. Most of them beyond 0.5 AU orbital distance from earth,” frowned Claire. “Which we have quietly added to the list of Interior Earth Objects or IEO’s, collated by the Minor Planet Center in Massachusetts in the United States. I have a lot on my plate today, so if you will excuse me…” she made a motion to leave.

“Given the Potentially Hazardous Asteroid’s or PHA’s shape, size, mass, rotation dynamics, and an absolute magnitude H of 21.4, we have modeled its ‘Intersection Course’ and ‘Risk Corridor’ across the surface of the earth, as well as simulated the asteroid’s Potential Impact Zone!”

“A Risk Corridor? Potential Impact Zone?” A startled Claire muttered and sat down. “What is the timeline before it hits the earth’s potential keyhole pass… and the asteroid impact?”

“I am afraid it has already entered the earth’s gravitational keyhole. We believe the impact is about ten days from today, give or take a few hours. That is not enough time for…any successful counter measures to be deployed, or even to undertake a comprehensive mitigation damage assessment. But we are certain that the impact will be a cataclysmic event.”

“What is the size and weight of the binary Atira S-type asteroid?” a stunned Claire inquired.

“Since the Sentinel telescope is facing away from the sun, we have been able to map the PHA quite accurately. The primary asteroid has a diameter of 1.45 kilometers, orbited by a minor planet-moon that measures about 0.36 kilometers across. Its combined weight, we estimate, is more than 360,000 metric tons,” explained a troubled Colonel Yoshimoto.

“Are you sure? Have you run the Monte Carlo simulations?”

“Yes, several times! And we have analyzed it on the Palermo Technical Impact Hazard Scale as well, I am afraid it currently reads at 2.”

“That is absurd, no asteroid has ever been measured at 2 on the Palermo scale,” blurted a fearful Claire and mumbled, “And the Potential Impact Zone?”

“We believe that the binary asteroid is headed for impact around Washington DC on January 28, 2022 – that is nine days from today. Given its size, mass, and other parameters, we fear that the Eastern Seaboard of the United States may be completely wiped out!”

“The Americans? Do they know? Have you informed the Planetary Defense Coordination office or PDCO and NASA?”

“Yes, we thought about that, but…given the technical and research facilities the Americans have at their disposal, including the PAN-STARR Telescope at Maui, the NEOWISE Space Telescope, the Catalina Sky Survey in Arizona, the ATLAS program in Hawaii, as well as several others…we are honestly puzzled? Why have the Americans remained obliviously silent?”

“We need to inform them as soon as possible. The only reason that I can think of…” a dazed Claire broke off mid-sentence.

“…is that they already know!” Koki San, finished her thought.

“The Double Asteroid Redirection Test or DART, that the Americans have been planning for several years? Could it be launched in such a short time?” Claire inquired, almost afraid to ask.

“DART has been delayed for more than a year due to technical and funding issues. Our sources confirmed that it was finally finished three months ago. Yesterday it was transferred with an undisclosed additional payload to their launch facilities at the Vandenberg Air Force base, where a SpaceX - Falcon 9 rocket is being prepared for launch.”

“But if they are planning to send DART to intercept the asteroid, then as per the Outer Space Treaty or OST, they have to inform the Space Mission Planning Advisory Group or SMPAG in Germany. The OST rules are very clear; if anything goes wrong the Americans would have ABSOLUTE LIABILITY! If the asteroid landed in some other part of the world, rather than…”

“We have run simulations of the DART program, Claire San. We do not believe that the Delta V applied by the Kinetic Impact Technique will be powerful enough to put 99069 Apophis Interior 21 into a deflected trajectory, away from its life-threatening present course. But if they add a sizable thermonuclear payload, then they may be able to destroy or re-direct it…”

“Re-direct it to where? Wait, you have already given the binary asteroid a formal name?”

“Yes, we named it after the first 99942 Apophis Asteroid, which was discovered in 2004 and caused a brief flutter, given its hazard level of 1.12 on the Palermo scale, before it was downgraded. Apophis, as you are aware, is the Greek name for the Egyptian God of Chaos.”

Claire asked again urgently, “Re-direct Apophis to where?”

“The Americans may be able to nudge it with a thermonuclear blast, towards either south-western China or close to the border of India and Pakistan.”

Claire stood in silence, afraid to calculate the fatalities and the damage, although she had already done the calculations. “A binary asteroid of that size, would make the 20-meter wide Chelyabinsk Meteor of 2013 with an energy of 470 kilotons, look like a minor accident. Apophis could release 2300 to 2700 megatons of energy and create a crater at least 30 to 40 kilometers in diameter. If it strikes China or India, the devastation, the earthquakes, and the resultant fatalities could cross 400 million people, if not more…”

“Compared to the Hiroshima bomb that measured at a mere 15 kilotons, and still cost so many lives, including those of my grandparents…” A mournful Colonel Yoshimoto looked away. “The American President held a meeting late last night in the situation room.

“Present were the heads of Planetary Science Division, Planetary Defense Coordination Office, Office of Science and Technology, Planetary Impact Emergency Response Working Group, as well as the head of their military space division. The President took a decision to go ahead with the DART mission with an added thermonuclear payload, which is probably an advanced version of their W80 warhead, with a five-megaton capacity. Their armed forces have been alerted to expect trouble from China or India, or both together…”

“I…I must talk to Lazarok,” an overwhelmed Claire replied. “I will get back to you, on our agreed communication protocol, the moment I reach New York. Koki San, but hypothetically if it is a ‘near-miss’ scenario, what would the asteroid’s orbital period be around the sun?”

Colonel Yoshimoto shook his head, “99069 Apophis Interior 21 is not on course for a ‘close shave’ event, given its extremely unusual speed and orbital plane.”

“I…What…The speed? Yes, I should have asked about that first? Why didn’t we notice Apophis earlier? Sentinel, since it faces the earth and therefore avoids any light interference from the sun, should have picked up the PHA weeks or perhaps months ago?” A delirious Claire tried to make sense of things before she gave up. “Okay, what is its speed?”

“It is 45 kilometers per second!”

Claire attempted a horror-stricken laugh, “That is impossible! No asteroid in the Interior-Earth Orbit or IEO has been recorded with a speed of more than 17 kilometers per second. The only possible reason that an asteroid would have such a speed…is if…”

“If it arrived from beyond our solar system, similar to the Ouamuamua Asteroid in 2017, which weeks later exited our solar system from below the plane of the ecliptic. And the only possible reason that Apophis could suddenly appear, and then head directly towards earth; is because it is…”

“An alien spaceship…” A suddenly queasy Claire whispered, and lowered her head.

“The Americans may be unaware that they are about to engage with an unknown alien civilization…”

“The Chinese? Do they know?”

“Yes! They have enough resources to locate the asteroid. There are frantic meetings on-going at present in Beijing, but I cannot be certain of the outcome until later. Already, the Chinese People’s Liberation Army has been put on TCPLA 2, across all their theatres of operation, which is the American equivalent of DEFCON 2 – just below an absolute nuclear emergency and a full-scale war.”

“And the Europeans?”

“The Europeans are buying the story being put out by their ‘American friends’. Their resources are at present limited, especially when it comes to ‘sun-side asteroids’. Also, their new ‘Fly-Eye’ telescopes are not fully deployed across the world, yet. Nor have the Americans apprised the anglophile-intelligence-gathering group of nations; that includes Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and England.”

“And the Indians?”

“The Japanese government has a…shall we say an arrangement with India, which was signed several years ago – given the aggressive Chinese expansion in the region. The Indian Space Research Organization or ISRO, picked up Apophis yesterday. From the unusual data they collected from their Aditya-L1 satellite, which is in a halo orbit around Lagrangian point 1.”

“Merde! This is headed towards a very dangerous situation. I imagine several existing alignments across the world are about to come undone,” an edgy Claire sighed.

“…and new alignments formed, Claire San. Since the Americans have not felt it necessary to inform us either, our government feels that we should – given the urgency of the situation – re-align with our geographical neighbors. We may have had our differences in the past, but this is a cataclysmic event. For all we know the Americans may change their mind, and ensure that the Asteroid Impact avoids India and China. And…”

“And re-directs the asteroid towards Japan…lesser number of people killed with an expansive sea all around it. And a smaller military force compared to that of China.” Claire inferred.

Colonel Yoshimoto nodded, “Our fear was confirmed about the Americans’ intentions when they suddenly began to vacate their 7th fleet stationed at Okinawa yesterday. Initial consultative meetings between Japan, India, and China have already begun, although preliminary, and only between the heads of the three Asian nations.”

“And how do you know all of this, Koki San?” a nervous Claire inquired.

“It was my team that discovered 99069 Apophis Interior 21. Unlike the rigid hierarchal structure that Japan is infamous for, we still have some back channels, at least within the government. Yesterday, I personally apprised the Prime Minister of the precarious situation. And the rest…well…I am a very good chess player, Claire San.” Colonel Yoshimoto smiled, sadly. “I could fill in the blanks between what little the Prime Minister shared.”

“And now you have committed treason by telling me, Koki San?”

“No, that is not possible. I come to you as a representative of the Prime Minister of Japan, under his direct orders.” Colonel Yoshimoto spoke solemnly. “Given JAXA’s long relationship with your company, especially the secret Sentinel Space Telescope program, the Prime Minister believes that Lazarok San could be helpful at present. Because diplomacy may be the only way to stop the situation from reaching a dangerous inflection point.”

About the Author:
Savinder Raj Anand is an architect and has been teaching Architecture & Design at various Universities in India for more than 12 years. A long-distance runner with a wanderlust to explore the world, and write stories that traverse across diverse cultures. He lives in Goa with his daughter, a dog, and two cats.

Inspired by his then 18-month-old daughter – when she quoted Socrates – while they together sat in a children’s bookstore in Bangalore (LIGHTROOM) in early January of 2015, he has completed this – his first book – as she turns 7 years old.

Website: https://www.rajanandbooks.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rajanandbooks/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rajanandbooks/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXPA0eY42VQ

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Wednesday, October 14, 2020

The Secrets of Gable House by Nancy Fraser



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Jigsaw Puzzle: https://www.jigsawplanet.com/?rc=play&pid=3b6a16956609

Noah Miller is shocked to learn that an unknown great uncle has named him heir to the family fortune, including the residence known as Gable House. Built by Noah’s fifth-back grandfather, the house is ripe with family secrets and unusual occurrences.

Maggie Shephard has spent the past ten years researching the history of Willow-By-The-Sea, including that of her own ancestors. Considered an authority on New England history, she’s often sought out as a consultant. When Noah Miller asks for her help in acquainting him with both the house and his ancestors, she jumps at the chance to share her knowledge with the handsome architect.

Noah and Maggie have an immediate attraction to one another, made even more so by the time they spend together researching the Gable family history. The fact that each Gable male died an untimely and gruesome death, leads Noah and Maggie on a quest for the truth in hopes of setting a murderous spirit free.

 

Read an Excerpt

Maggie paced the parlor, weighing her words against the contradictory stories she’d grown up on, and wondering exactly how much she should tell the heir to the Gable secrets right off the bat. Imparting her knowledge of the Gable family history was something that would benefit from a slow, easing-into-it approach.

Or, perhaps, you’re just wanting to prolong your time in Noah Miller’s company? Maggie batted her lashes, chasing away her annoyingly accurate inner thoughts.

“Archibald was born...um...I want to say in the late sixteen-hundreds, 1680 maybe. His actual birthdate is unclear since he wasn’t born here in the U.S. In 1701, he immigrated to the New England area from Heathshire, Wales with his parents, Theodore and Julia. They both died within months of arrival, having contracted something on the way over.” She drew a breath and continued. “Archibald—”

He interrupted and asked, “How about we call him Archie? It’s less of a mouthful.”

She smiled and began again. “Archib...uh...Archie built a trade empire on the backs of indentured workers. According to journals I’ve reviewed, he was not beneath cheating his business partners or competitors. It’s even said, he had a man murdered for not selling him a parcel of land.”

“Damn! I thought my ex wife was bad. My ancestors may have her beaten.” He grinned, and added, “But not by much.”

Oh, good. He’s not married. Hot as hell and available.

“In 1718, Archie married his first wife, Estella Lanier, daughter of a wealthy French businessman. Armand Lanier died a few months before his daughter’s wedding, leaving his entire estate to Estella. With no business experience to rely on, she gladly turned her fortune over to her new husband. Archie purchased the land and built Gable House for her in 1720, with the intention they would start a family. They became one of the half-dozen or so founding residents of what is now Willow-By-The-Sea. Their plans for a family took longer than they’d hoped, but eventually they had a son, Cornelius. Unfortunately, Estella died shortly after childbirth. Archibald—”

“Archie,” he corrected.

“Archie remarried a year-and-a-half later, to a woman named Penelope Green. He and his second wife also had a son they named Alister.”

“Good grief. How do you remember all these details? More importantly, why would you want to?”

She readily admitted, “It’s become important to me. My fifth-removed grandmother was also a founder of Willow, and I’ve scoured her personal journals over and over again trying to reconcile them with other historical documents.”

“And?” he prompted.

“I’m not sure yet. There’s a very thin line between fact and fiction. Sometimes there’s no line at all.”

About the Author:
NANCY FRASER—Jumping Across Romance Genres with Gleeful Abandon—is an Amazon Top 100 and Award-Winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Like most authors, Nancy began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.

Published in multiple genres, Nancy currently writes for two publishers, and has recently thrown her hat into the self-publishing ring. She has published over thirty-five books in full-length, novella, and short format.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

Social Media:

Website: http://www.nancyfraser.ca
Facebook: http://facebook.com/nancyfraserauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nfraserauthor
Bookbub: http://bookbub.com/profile/nancy-fraser
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Nancy-Fraser/e/B004AOL61Y/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7206382.Nancy_Fraser
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.ca/fraser425/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcZdjsWDhFU&
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/romauthor_nancyfraser/

Buy the book for only $0.99

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HNGP8J8
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-secrets-of-gable-house-nancy-fraser/1137609210
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/the-secrets-of-gable-house
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1531013134

 

Tuesday, October 13, 2020

Bound to Protect by Anya Summers



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anya Summers will award a $20 Amazon/BN GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The weight of the world on her shoulders…

Sabrina Thomas needs to catch a break. By day she juggles two jobs, only to head home at night to care for her mentally ill brother. With their parents gone, the responsibility for his care, the doctor’s bills, the hospital stays, the at home care, falls to her. Six months ago, the trust fund their parents left them dried up and with the mounting bills, she has until the end of the month to make good on late rent payments before they are evicted. Sabrina knows where she could make a lot of quick cash with her looks: Bayou Sin, the classiest strip joint on Bourbon Street. But her plans go awry when Dante hauls her off the stage and takes her to his penthouse.

His lifestyle called into question…

Billionaire Michael Fitzgerald and his partner in crime, Dante Rousseau, have been topping submissives together for years. As the owner of the fifth largest sugarcane supplier, with a host of multi-conglomerate corporations to run, Michael has always kept his bedroom preferences under wraps. When a rival on the board attempts to engage in a hostile takeover and have Michael expelled from his own company, he knows he needs to find a woman he can trust to pretend to be his fiancée and put the kibosh on the illicit rumors spreading like wildfire through the company’s board members. When Dante shows up with their housekeeper, Sabrina, who is spitting mad at being denied the opportunity to make some fast cash, Michael knows she is just the woman for the job.

An offer neither can refuse…

Michael and Dante make Sabrina a deal: pretend to be Michael’s sole love interest for thirty days to dispel the rumors and stop the takeover. In exchange, they will pay her ten million dollars at month’s end. But the lines soon become blurred as to what is real and what is make believe. And when their time together is up, will they be able to walk away, or will they take the chance to make their relationship the real deal?

Read an Excerpt

There was no getting out of this. Michael’s life was going to be examined under a microscope for the next thirty days.

He had the distinct urge to head back to his gym and pummel the punching bag until it was nothing but a pile of dust.

“Fine. Now, unless we have other business to discuss, as I mentioned before, I have a packed schedule today,” Michael replied stonily, not allowing the group to witness the disquiet roiling through him—not when there was a vulture among them waiting for the perfect moment to strike and rip him to shreds.

“That should be all for now,” James stated, closing his file.

“Great.” Michael rose, grabbed his briefcase, and nodded. “You may contact my assistant to schedule the review.”

He left the conference room. They had an intruder at Club Underworld. It was the only explanation that made sense. Michael was uber careful; they all were. They had non-disclosure agreements for members for a reason. He didn’t stop at Barbara’s office. Instead, he direct messaged her, telling her that something had come up and he needed her to cancel the rest of his appointments for today. And to give his regards to the Senator.

In his car—today he’d chosen to drive his black Bentley—he called Dante.

“Yo, what’s up?” Dante answered.

“We have a major fucking problem. Email the founders. Emergency meeting as soon as everyone can make it to the penthouse.”

“What the hell? I thought you had a board meeting.”

“I did. Someone knows about us, about our activities at the club, and is leaking that information to members of the board to get me not only removed from the board, but as CEO of my own fucking company.”

“Son of a bitch. I’m on it. When can you get here?” Dante asked him.

Michael switched lanes on the freeway, heading toward the exit for interstate ten from the six-ten. “I’m on my way now. Barbara is cancelling my appointments for the day. Oh, and Dante, we need to find me a fake fiancée on the double—one who will agree to a non-disclosure agreement. Start combing through the single submissives at Underworld looking at whom we might be able to vet.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ. It would be easier for me to resurrect Marie Laveau. No offense to the subs, but none of them will be on the level that you would need to convince the board.”

“I already mentioned it was someone they wouldn’t know, hopefully indicating they aren’t of the same class. Be there shortly. We can talk more about it then.” Michael hung up. Fury had him punching the gas. Dan was behind it, he had to be. Michael knew the son of a bitch was a climber, but he had never expected this type of subterfuge. That Dan would convince a member of Michael’s inner sanctum to collect dirt on his lifestyle.

Michael would discover who was behind the betrayal, and crush the motherfucker.

About the Author:Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

Visit her website here: http://www.anyasummers.com
Visit her on social media here:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AnyaSummersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anyabsummers
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15183606.Anya_Summers
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Anya-Summers/e/B01EGTVRKC/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/anya-summers
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anyasummersauthor/
Newsletter: https://anyasummers.com/newsletter/

Crescent City Kings

Lone Survivor, Book 1: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07X4JN5DX
Far Reaching Consequences, Book 2: https://amzn.to/2SmLqWm
The Right to Remain Silent, Book 3: https://amzn.to/2URBzY2
Bound to Protect, Book 4: https://www.amazon.com/Bound-Protect-Crescent-City-Kings-ebook/dp/B08FCX75XZ/
Self Sacrifice, Book 5 – Coming December 2020
Never Surrender, Book 6 – Coming 2021
Oath & Indenture, Book 7 – Coming 2021

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Monday, October 12, 2020

Storm Warning by Thom Collins



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Thom Collins will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

*****


Hi. Thanks for having me here on the blog today. It’s a real pleasure to talk to you.

Welcome to It's Raining Books. What do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

MM romance was a natural progression for me. For over twenty years I wrote gay erotica under a pen name. My stories appeared in gay magazines from the mid-1990s through to the demise of the industry in the mid-2000s. I also wrote for gay anthologies and wrote two erotic novels. So, I’ve always written gay fiction. Around seven or eight years ago, I felt I’d kind of exhausted myself in the erotic fiction genre. I took some time to regroup and did a creative writing diploma, and once I was ready to start writing again, gay romance was the natural outlet. It allowed me to continue writing gay characters but with the emphasis more on relationships and story development rather than just linking one sex scene to another.

Sex is still an important part of my books, but it’s not what the stories are about.

What research is required?

It depends on the story. All my books are contemporary, so I don’t have to do any intricate world building or disappear down a historical rabbit hole. The research for Storm Warning was probably the best. I took a two-week cruise to Iceland in June 2019 and it was simply the best holiday I’ve ever been on. I loved everything about it: the ship, the sea days, all the places we visited. That was all fresh in my mind when I started working on the book and I used the cruise and itinerary as a backdrop for the love story between Jamie and Dexter. I’m familiar with ships and the ocean and weather conditions so that was already there in my head and didn’t require a lot of research.

I also write a series of books called Jagged Shores, which are set in a small town on the North East coast of England. One of the main characters in the first book North Point is a volunteer in the Lifeboat service and gets involved in a lot of dangerous sea rescues, so I had to do some research into that beforehand. Luckily my brother used to be a lifeboat crew member so I could bombard him with questions when I needed to.

But I try not to get bogged down in research. It can sometimes lead to procrastination and so I like to do just as much as I need for the story.

Name one thing you learned from your hero?

Jamie is unlike anyone I’ve ever written. He’s a damaged soul. A widower who bears the emotional and physical scars of an incident five years earlier which took his husband. Jamie has become something of a recluse during those years until his sister in law talks him into joining her on the cruise for a working holiday. It’s a massive step forward for him and requires a great deal of bravery. So, I think the thing I have learned from Jamie is to face your fear head on and it won’t be as bad as you expect.

Are you a plotter or pantser?

I’m a serious plotter. Pantsing has never worked for me. Whenever I have started a story without knowing what’s going to happen, I have always gotten lost and abandoned it part way through. I like to develop a full chapter by chapter outline before I write a word of the book. Things can and often do change along the way, but it allows me to relax into the writing when I know where I’m going. Another advantage of plotting is it provides a much cleaner first draft, which requires less revision and makes for a smoother editing process.

It’s different for every writer, but plotting is what works for me.

Anything new coming up from you?

Yes, I do. Book 2 in the Jagged Shores series is complete will be released by Pride Publishing in 2021. The first book North Point came out this summer and was my best received book yet. I had an absolute blast writing the follow up and can’t wait to share it. And if Storm Warning goes down well with readers, I have plans to develop that into an ongoing series of novels set onboard the Atlantic Star cruise ship. Storm Warning is a standalone story, but the cruise setting gives me a lot of scope for future romances. I adore writing about love and adventure at sea and don’t think I’ll ever stop.

Jamie Johnson is going to sea for the first time in his life. Atlantic Star is one of the most luxurious cruise ships in the world, and a two-week trip to Iceland offers Jamie the perfect escape. His life has been on hold since the death of his husband and a working holiday onboard a state-of-the-art ship is an opportunity to explore the world he’s been hiding from. A chance to think about his future and decide what he wants to do with the rest of his life.

When Dexter Fordyce steps onboard, all he wants is a good time. The cruise is his first holiday in years, and workaholic Dexter is ready to relax and enjoy himself. If he can manage a little fun with someone like Jamie, even better. Jamie is flattered by the attention. Dexter is handsome, charming and great fun and proves impossible to resist.

Jamie’s hopes of romance died with his husband. The prospect of a shipboard passion is attractive, but Jamie’s heart has been broken for too long and he can’t take the risk of falling in love. With stormy weather ahead, the two men are set for a voyage they will never forget.


Read an Excerpt

Jamie gazed at Dexter again. From his expression, bemused embarrassment, he appeared to share Jamie’s feelings on the matter. Their eyes locked, lingering for a long moment. Jamie looked away before any of the others noticed the exchange.

Maybe Dexter wasn’t as young as he first thought. There were lines around his eyes, suggesting maturity, which put his age in his thirties rather than twenties. Was there just a hint of grey at the temples of his otherwise jet-black hair? Jamie couldn’t be sure in the soft light of the restaurant. There were seductive shades of hazel and amber in his eyes, very like his mother. He didn’t know what his father looked like, but Rachel was right about Dexter inheriting some of Davina’s striking looks.

Whatever his background, Dexter didn’t share Davina’s accent. There was no trace of America in his voice. The soft, southern delivery suggested an upbringing exclusive to England, most likely a posh area of London.

It was impossible for Jamie to keep his eyes off him. Dexter was the most attractive man he’d met in years.

About the Author:
Thom Collins is the author of Closer by Morning, North Point and the Anthem Trilogy. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

He is currently working on a new series.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in 2013 he realized cruising is the best way to see the world.

Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook The Night

Links:

Website: http://www. thomcollins.co.uk
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/thomwolf
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/ThomCollinsAuthor
Email: thomcollinsauthor@aol.com

Storm Warning Links

Amazon USA: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08GNH34CQ
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08GNH34CQ
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08GNH34CQ
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08GNH34CQ

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Thursday, October 8, 2020

Mistletoe, Mobsters, and Mozzarella by Peggy Jaeger



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Peggy Jaeger will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Finding a body in the freezer of the family deli isn’t the way Madonna San Valentino planned to start her day.

Adding insult to injury, the investigating detective is the one guy she’s never been able to forget. After seven minutes of heaven in the back seat of his car when they were teenagers, Tony Roma skipped town without so much as a thanks for the memory.

Just when Madonna thinks the present situation can’t get any worse, Tony is ordered to go undercover at the deli to ferret out a killer. Forced to work together, she vows to keep their relationship cool and professional. But with the sexy, longing looks he tosses her at every turn, Madonna’s resolve is weakening.

With Christmas drawing closer and Tony’s investigation taking an unexpected turn, Madonna is at her wit’s end. Can she really be falling for him again? And will he wind up leaving her broken hearted and alone like the last time?


Read an Excerpt

One look in the den and I felt like history was repeating itself because Giacomo’s twins were face down on the carpet, lying on top of one another, their limbs all twined together, grunting baby noises coming from deep down in their little bodies. Rocco, or maybe Carlo, was on top, unintentionally smothering his brother whose face he was sitting on, smashed flat into the carpet and making breathing impossible.

My brothers, engrossed in the game playing on television, were clueless to the potential disaster right in front of them.

I’d learned long ago yelling at them served no purpose. They were all masters at the art of ignoring me.

I made my way to the babies and, silently, lifted Rocco – or maybe Carlo – off his brother with one hand, the other flipping Carlo – or maybe Rocco – so he was supine. His little face was pale, his lips ringed with blue, but he took a huge breath, startled once, and then let out a bloodcurdling screech sounding remarkably like the wail his father had made back in his own baby days.

All five pair of male eyes turned to me at the sound. Not one of them moved from their comfy positions.

“Hey, Donna,” Giacomo said. “Everything okay?”

“Marvy,” I mumbled, hoisting a boy onto each hip, one of them silent, the other screaming like he was spewing out a lung or being dismembered. “I’m bringing the boys to their mother,” I said, wincing from the earsplitting shrieking. I wouldn’t be surprised if my left ear went deaf before the night ended.

Giacomo toasted me with his beer and said, “Thanks, sis,” his attention already focused back on the game.

In the kitchen I handed the screaming baby over to his mother and told her how I’d found her sons. It wasn’t my job any longer to discipline or try to guide my brothers. They had wives for that now. And from the look of abject fury on Margaret Rose’s face I knew Giacomo would be getting his comeuppance later on when they were home.

I didn’t feel an iota of pity for him.

With the fratricidal wannabe glued to my hip, I went back to the dining room and finally opened the wine bottle single handedly.

About the Author:
Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes Romantic Comedies about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them. If she can make you cry on one page and bring you out of tears rolling with laughter the next, she’s done her job as a writer!

Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, she brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she’s created the families she wanted as that lonely child.

When she’s not writing Peggy is usually painting, crafting, scrapbooking or decoupaging old steamer trunks she finds at rummage stores and garage sales.

A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, Peggy is a member of RWA and her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.

As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go "What??!"

Social Media links:

Website and blog: http://peggyjaeger.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Peggy-Jaeger-Author/825914814095072
Twitter: https://twitter.com/peggy_jaeger
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13478796.Peggy_Jaeger,br> BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/peggy-jaeger
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDR8RRIlssIyS0FYZWeGqsg
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/peggyjaeger_author/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/peggyjaeger/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/peggy-jaeger-296ab878/
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
Authors database: https://authorsdb.com/community/15814-peggy-jaeger
Triberr: https://triberr.com/tribe/strong-women--loving-men

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Tuesday, October 6, 2020

The Trapped Daughter by Jay Kerk



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jay Kerk will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Have you ever been trapped somewhere? I have.
Have you ever found that the world does not believe you? I did.

I have been betrayed by the people I trusted the most. They coil around me like snakes, lulling me with whispers about protection and safety and for your own good.

They offer up pills like sweets, promising me relief. Just take the meds and everything will be fine, Belle – the meds, Belle, the meds.

Everything will not be fine, and it never will be again. Justice is gone from the world. I have been wronged by Gabe, the man I loved most, and when I turned to others for backup, they sided with him because he’s a star. When I ran to my father for safety, he locked me up in his great big mansion and threw away the key. Now I drift like the ghost Gabe pretended I was, my bare feet tasting the coldness of rich tiles, my breath turning to ice.

Gabe isn’t real, they tell me. They insult me, they spit at me, then smile and pretend that they wish to help. Meanwhile, Gabe is out there, luxuriating in all that I won for him, and I suffer and burn.


Read an Excerpt

About Gabe: 2011

We met for the first time on a dry autumn day. If I had known who I was going to meet on that day and what he would do to me, I would have turned back… but innocent me had no idea.

It was the kind of clichéd meeting most hopeless romantics dream of.

The ground was carpeted with leaves, and I was surrounded by the huge oak trees they’d fallen from, trying to cram my way through the crowded main entrance to the university. The passage could probably hold a few hundred of the thirty thousand students registered in an academic year at once, and it was hot with the smell of excitement and sweat.

I am a shy person, but back then – there should have been a stronger word to describe how shy I was. I walked with my gaze on my feet, my hair across my face, my shoulders hunched inwards as others bumped and barged me from left and right. I walked as one who wants to be invisible, and has almost – almost – achieved it.

The last bump was hard enough to knock my notepad out of my hand. I bent to pick it up, and was faced with a hand that wasn’t mine on the pages. I lifted my head and saw Gabe squatting in front of me.

Our eyes met, and I felt the butterflies, felt my mouth turn dry. I crouched motionlessly, bewildered by how perfect he was. Without a word, he gave me the book and hurried away, looking at his watch. I told myself, this is fate. I will marry this man one day.

I didn’t want anyone else. I loved him before he became a superstar – and once he did, I adored him.

I wish I could to listen to his music, waltz into one of his shows, a casual observer with nothing to lose, nothing to care about. People die from broken hearts, but I haven’t died. Yet.

I never I imagined I could stay in love with someone for so long.

About the Author: As a physician, I used my clinical background to keep the readers on their toes. All options are on the table. Is Gabe real? Did Gabe ever love her? What was their relationship? Was he her husband, and did she kill him? Is Gabe her brother?

My name is Jay Kerk, and I am a 33 year old. I am a medical doctor, and I use my background to illustrate unlikely but realistic situations revolving around the alterations of the mind. My first book A Predator and A Psychopath, self-published in July 2019, received five stars from Readers Favorite and 4 and a half stars from Self-Publishing Review.

http://www.Jaykerk.com
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJayKerk/
https://www.instagram.com/authorjaykerk/
https://twitter.com/KerkJay
https://www.goodreads.com/jaykerk
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07V8SRM47

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08HXQFHSB/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1

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Monday, October 5, 2020

Fly Twice Backward by David McCracken



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. David McCracken will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Stuff you might not guess about me:

When I was three, my mom got a call from a nearby barber shop saying I was down there entertaining the customers, naked, (instead of napping as Mom supposed).

At four my friends and I discovered the devil hole, a four-inch-wide hole we couldn’t see to the bottom of. We were confident if we reached in, he’d grab us. Eventually, though, we began teasing him by waving our foot over it, for longer and longer periods. I’m still here to tell the tale!

When I was five, I led a four-year-old friend across two keys away from Key West to play on a little beach I’d seen from the road. We were just getting started when our moms spotted us. Darn! That same year I found the gate around a power tower unlocked and was halfway up when a very alarmed man who’d left the gate open saw me and made me come down. So unreasonable! That same year I dropped out of kindergarten, which wasn’t compulsory yet. I was disappointed they weren’t teaching me to read like my big sister could. That was why I wanted to go to school! We were just playing duck duck goose goose, etc. A pretty married teacher who’d had to quit teaching because she was pregnant took over, to my joy. (This was 1945, and they has such rules back then.)

At six, a few weeks into first grade I told my parents I’d been promoted into second grade. They were bragging about it in church when the principal overheard and demurred. They had believed me since I could already read well. On the last day of school before Christmas break, I got the principal to give us the sixteen foot Christmas tree in the school lobby. (Just take a little off the top—er, bottom, please.)

When I was ten I did skip a grade, having been in a three-grade classroom and mastering the middle grade incidentally. Actually, they were going to skip me two grades, but my mom thought I wasn’t mature enough. Think?

And then there was the cow I thought I shot, at eleven....

You wake back in early adolescence, adult memories intact, including ones that could make you very wealthy now. Your birth family is here, alive again, but your later families are gone, perhaps forever. What has happened, what should you do about coming problems like violence, ignorance, pollution, and global warming? You realize one key connects most, the fundamentalist strains of all the major religions, disdaining science, equality, and social welfare. You see that there are some things you can change, some you can’t, and one you don’t dare to.

Fellow idealists help you spend your growing fortune well--such as an artistic Zoroastrian prince in the Iranian oil industry, a rising officer in the Soviet army working to find a way to destroy his corrupt government, a Bahai woman struggling against Islamic brutality, a Peruvian leader working for a liberal future, and a snake-handling Christian minister, grappling with doubts, sexuality, and destiny. They are supported by an ally who develops essential psychic powers. The group faces familiar-looking corrupt politicians, religious leaders, and corporate czars, but there is an ancient force in the background, promoting greed, violence, hate, and fear.

This exciting, emotional, thoughtful, humorous, and even romantic sci-fi novel weaves progressivism, music, movies, and literature into a struggle spanning the globe. Vivid characters propel the action back up through an alternative history toward an uncertain destination. Experience the unique story and its novel telling.

Read an Excerpt

When she gets home from school, Mom surprises me with a borrowed newspaper, El Mundo: “I thought you might want to catch up on Latin American news. You can read this OK, can’t you?”

Ah, a test. Thank goodness I’ve been brushing up scanning her upper-level texts. I take in her sly, wolfish grin, restrain one of my own, and say,”Oh, good here’s an article on the coming Venezuelan election, Mom. Have you read it?”

“Um, no, not yet.”

I proceed to summarize the article and mention that the junta had called the elections confident of solidifying their mandate. I go on to add they would lose—and turn power back over to the military. Who’d have thought that my Latin American studies focus would come in so handy, so long before I pursued it!

Mom slinks off to putter in the kitchen, but soon our doorbell rings. She seems to run to answer it.

“David, there’s a man here, Mr. Walker, I’d like you to talk with.” Looks like trouble.

“Oh, about what?” I ask.

“Well, just to get acquainted, for now,” Mom says. “Um, we’re thinking you might be able to use a special teacher.”

Walker is a serious-looking tall man of middle age, conservatively suited.

“Are you a math teacher? I’d love to learn advanced stuff, like algebra.”

“Oh, do you already know about it?”

“No, not past the name. Can you teach me algebra?”

Mom puts in, “Maybe history, David?”

“That’d be nice. I don’t know much, except some about the Second World War. I was amazed a friend of mine didn’t know who General Rommel was, though.”

“Mrs. McCracken, is there something in particular you have in mind?”

“Well, he says he came back from the future.”

“Mom, if I’d done that, I wouldn’t have been so surprised by this. You’re worrying me. You don’t want to do electroshock again, I know. You were really confused after the last time.”

“This is nonsense! I’ve never had electroshock.”

“Oh, Mom, are you back in that state? Don’t you remember? You denied it then, but . . . well, you know you wet your pants whenever you’d think about it. She was doing so well, Doctor . . ..”

About the Author:
David McCracken was born in Louisville, KY, in 1940. Raised mostly in Winchester, KY, he now lives in Northern Virginia, with his third and final wife. He has three children, two stepchildren, and six grandchildren.

After three years in the U.S. Navy following a lackluster academic start, he graduated from the University of Kentucky in 1963, in Diplomacy and International Commerce. He then worked as a Latin American country desk officer in the U.S. Department of Commerce until he returned to school to earn an M.A. in Elementary Education in 1970 from Murray State University, having always been intending to teach. Eventually realizing his children qualified for reduced-price lunches based on his own teaching salary, he studied computer programming at Northern Virginia Community College and worked as a programmer until shifting back into elementary teaching.

He began working on what became Fly Twice Backward in 1983 and finally finished it in 2019! At 79, David strongly doubts he'll be doing another novel of such scope and complexity, but is preparing to work on a children's science fiction novel with a progressive bent, being a devout progressive in politics and religion, as well as a lover of learning.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52960668
Website: https://flytwicebackward.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Fly-Twice-Backward-102547317844345
Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07Z4KRLQZ/

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Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Moon in Bastet by E.S. Danon



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A memoir turned into thrilling fiction; Moon in Bastet is based on the life of author E. S. Danon. The story follows a fourteen-year-old girl named Eva, an orphan living in the Negev desert of Israel who is working as a custodian of Cirque Du Christianisme. Her life is controlled by a volatile drunk named Bella who favors a group of equally volatile teenage bullies over her and her own safety or sanity.

Bullied, neglected, and alone – Eva’s only friends are an odd, thirteen–year–old Sephardic boy named Jack and a small cohort of Bedouin sister-wives. On the brink of giving up on life, Eva stumbles upon a mysterious cat in the middle of the desert. Or really, did the cat stumble upon her?

Together they must fight to stay alive, win the battles thrown at them, and Eva must learn to not only lean on others but to trust in herself.

Filled with mystery, magic, and symbolism – Moon in Bastet is a story of resilience, survivorship, forgiveness, and women empowerment. This is a work filled with Jewish mysticism that can be enjoyed by people of all races, ages, and religions everywhere.

Read an Excerpt

Mist twinkles atop the desert sand as a cohort of camels take their morning promenade. A girl runs past them, chasing the rising globe of fire.

Her breath labors as she slips on a rock.

“Ugh!”

A perfect little scrape forms on her knee, but she continues onward and unfazed.

Her skin is olive tinted; her head covered by a canopy of endless brown, curly hair. On her face sit two prominent beauty marks, on either side of her mouth. She is slender and not yet fully grown, but by no means does she have a frail frame. She wears a beige, spaghetti strapped dress that is knee length and complete with a secret pocket - all of which is covered in dirt. A headband woven from plants and flowers sits around the girl’s head.

This girl is named Eva.

She sprints up another dune’s side, her dress ballooning around her as she sits suddenly with crossed legs. The mirage of the sun’s gaseous performance begins to play on the horizon; another Israeli sun rise in the Negev. Like toy soldiers, the sun’s rays advance in a medley of oranges and yellows. Pink is usually reserved for sunrises - however on this day, a rosy aura is cast around the girl as she grabs a rock and casts it towards the sun: This is how a desert girl skips rocks. Next, she takes aim at the arse of the nearest camel.

The rock misses by centimeters, causing a fuss amongst the cohort, but Eva’s almond shaped, brown eyes glisten.

“G-d! Adonai! Where are you? I see you in the colors of the sky!” Her voice echoes as her eyes drift upon the sunrise. “Why are you ignoring me like everyone else does? I feel you in the warmth of light but where are you? Why haven’t you rescued me yet?” She shivers and brings her bare feet in closer to herself. “Can you at least give me a jacket? You’re not very gentleman-like, you know… it’s really chilly this morning.”

Eva puckers her lips in defeat, and then meditates in the following silence, focusing on the warmth ricocheting from the sand and onto her goosebumps.

“Well at least my cramps are gone,” she says once her anxiety diminishes – massaging her lower stomach, happy that her most recent predicament has gone away. “But yet I still must deal with the cramp of life: being unheard and misunderstood.”

Reminded of the reason why she came to pray in the first place, Eva turns to the sky and gives a cloud a dirty look. “G-d, you have approximately twenty-four hours or I will throw rocks at every camel that I see! I can’t survive in that stupid Circus another day.” She throws a finger towards the unsuspecting cloud in the sky and pauses, thinking of a way to coax G-d into saving her.

“You know what - if you like your camels so much, then you better get me out of this place!” Shaking her head, she mumbles, “I’ll just throw rocks at each of their heads. Not like they would care. They’re already dumb… dumb camels.” She looks at a moon shaped scar on the top of her hand, given to her by one of the water-hoarding creatures several years ago.

“Dumb camels,” she repeats.

Silence again is all that responds to Eva once she finishes speaking to herself. She slumps over, shrugs, and decides to head back to her home that sits half-a-mile away from the dunes.

Her feet slip on the sand, causing her to lift her left hand to her face. She huffs as she thinks of her favorite book; reading it gives her solace in her own solitude. Eva sighs, feeling stuck in an ocean made of sand and trapped with her own imaginary desert marlin. She’s already picked out several camels to act as the sharks.

Ironically, one of the camels spits at her as she passes – as if asking, “Where’s your rock – dumb human?”

“Rude,” she mutters in response.

Eva finds her way to a camp studded with only several architectural structures that is surrounded by seven-foot-high wall made of sand. There is only one exit and one entrance, a sky-high rectangular structure made of wood that suffices as a gate. As she skips under it, a sign that reads Cirque du Christianism sways after her.

Officially home, she is welcomed by an array of Circus tents.

Her lazy footsteps saunter past the main tent to her right, soon halting as she approaches a much smaller blue tent. Looking back towards a white tipi, she can feel her body tensing as she holds her breath before leaping forward in front of the blue tent.

I hope he doesn’t attract attention to me.

About the Author:
Elizabeth Danon received her B.S. in Marine Science from Stony Brook University before working as a Marine Biologist for the National Marine Fisheries Service. She traveled the U.S. Eastern Seaboard and Gulf of Mexico: collecting data aboard commercial fishing vessels and dredges.

When that didn’t pan out to be the glorified job that she expected, finding herself covered in shark snot and fish scales daily, Elizabeth became a technical writer. In her spare time, she began doing standup comedy after taking comedy bootcamp with the Armed Services Arts Partnership. At this time, she married the most wonderful man who also provides most of her joke writing material. Unfortunately, because he’s Indian he has also enabled her Maggi addiction… Like she needed that on top of her already long-standing iced coffee issues.

Her favorite show is Schitt’s Creek, as she feels a special bond to her fellow comedians - and Sephardic brethren. Growing up half-Jewish herself, Elizabeth eventually converted to being full-Jewish with Temple Israel as a student of Rabbi Panitz.

Her enriched, but complicated, heritage has been an inspiration for most of her creative writing. Being an Aries, she has always felt like a leader and has therefore integrated her feminist beliefs into her work, albeit dropping every women’s studies course that she ever elected in college.

Additionally, her writing has an unmistakable international presence. Elizabeth wanted to discover as much as she could about her Sephardic Heritage and went on Birthright, followed by her independent travels to over ten other countries… carrying nothing but a red bookbag.

Website: https://linktr.ee/esdanon
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/esdanon
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pg/DANON.ELIZABETH.BOOKS/about/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DanonElizabeth

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Moon-Bastet-S-Danon-ebook/dp/B086LLL4T8/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/moon-in-bastet-es-danon/1137305185

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Monday, September 28, 2020

The Cabinet by Lindsay M. Chervinsky



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lindsay M. Chervinsky will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Welcome to It's Raining Books. Why do you write in your genre? What draws you to it?

I write history for two reasons. I find it endlessly fascinating to examine how people lived during other times. Some things—like love, family, and stress—are so familiar, but most details feel so foreign. Second, I think it’s impossible to understand our current moment without knowing from where we’ve come. It helps us understand so much about our culture, government, politics, diplomacy, and more.

What research is required?

Writing history, especially history from long ago, requires a ton of research! It’s impossible to describe individuals’ lives, homes, clothing, decisions, transportation, communication, and a million other details without extensive research. It’s really fun most of the time, but sometimes it can get frustrating when you are trying to nail down a detail and can’t find what you details you need.

Name one thing you learned from your hero/heroine. Persistence. George Washington has lots of flaws, but he was incredibly persistent and always sought to improve himself. That’s an honorable trait and one I’d like to emulate.

Do you have any odd or interesting writing quirks, habits or superstitions?

I hate 12 point font. I usually write in Times New Roman, but size 12 looks terrible to me. Size 11 all the way.

Are you a plotter or pantser?

Plotter, 100%. History is harder to write from a pantser perspective because the timeline is already established. In order to keep your people, facts, and events straight, it’s really helpful to have a plan.

Look to your right – what’s sitting there?

My pup, John Quiny Dog Adams (Quincy for short). He’s my buddy in all things.

Anything new coming up from you? What?

I’m doing a lot of public-facing history work right now: podcasts, articles, opinion editorials, etc. during the election season to help people understand the historical origins of this contemporary moment. You can find almost all of that information on my website or on Twitter (@lmchervinsky). After the transition period dies down, I’ll turn toward book two more seriously, but there is a lot going on right now.

Do you have a question for our readers?

Who is your favorite person in history? Or who do you find most fascinating and why? Alternatively, what would you want to know about the cabinet and the presidency?

The US Constitution never established a presidential cabinet―the delegates to the Constitutional Convention explicitly rejected the idea. So how did George Washington create one of the most powerful bodies in the federal government?

On November 26, 1791, George Washington convened his department secretaries―Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, Henry Knox, and Edmund Randolph―for the first cabinet meeting. Why did he wait two and a half years into his presidency to call his cabinet? Because the US Constitution did not create or provide for such a body. Washington was on his own.

Faced with diplomatic crises, domestic insurrections, and constitutional challenges―and finding congressional help lacking―Washington decided he needed a group of advisors he could turn to. He modeled his new cabinet on the councils of war he had led as commander of the Continental Army. In the early days, the cabinet served at the president’s pleasure. Washington tinkered with its structure throughout his administration, at times calling regular meetings, at other times preferring written advice and individual discussions.

Lindsay M. Chervinsky reveals the far-reaching consequences of Washington’s choice. The tensions in the cabinet between Hamilton and Jefferson heightened partisanship and contributed to the development of the first party system. And as Washington faced an increasingly recalcitrant Congress, he came to treat the cabinet as a private advisory body to summon as needed, greatly expanding the role of the president and the executive branch.


Read an Excerpt

When Washington and Knox arrived at Federal Hall at 11:30 a.m., the doorkeeper announced their arrival. Washington sat at the front of the chamber, and Knox took the chair to his right. Washington handed his remarks to Knox, who in turn handed them to Vice President John Adams. Adams read the statement, but as Senator William Maclay from Pennsylvania recalled, the senators could “not master . . . one Sentence of it.” Adams wasn’t known for his public speaking skills, but the senators’ struggles weren’t entirely his fault. The Senate gathered for their work in the large chambers that occupied the first floor of Federal Hall. Because of the August heat in New York City, the doorkeeper had opened the windows in search of a cooling breeze. But along with fresh air, noise from Wall Street’s pedestrians, carriages, peddlers, and horses flowed into the Senate chambers. The clamor overpowered Adams’s voice, so few senators could make out the words that Washington had carefully crafted. After a few complaints, Adams repeated the speech from the beginning. Washington’s remarks offered a brief synopsis of the current diplomatic state between the United States and the Southern Indians, and posed seven questions for the Senate to answer with an aye or a no.

Adams finished his recitation and sat. The seconds ticked by as the senators remained in awkward silence. A few shuffled papers or cleared their throats. Maclay speculated in his diary that his colleagues were so intimidated by Washington’s presence in the Senate chamber that they cowered in shameful silence. Eager to show that they could be active participants in the creation of foreign policy, Maclay stood up and suggested referring Washington’s seven questions to committee for discussion in detail. Washington lost his temper, stood up, and shouted, “This defeats every purpose of my coming here!” The senators fell into a stunned hush before Washington acquiesced to Maclay’s suggestion and offered to return to the Senate a few days later. Although he did return the following Monday, his first visit to the Senate was an inauspicious start to the executive-legislative relationship. As he returned to his carriage, Washington muttered under his breath that he would never return for advice. He kept his word—August 22, 1789, was the first and last time he visited the Senate to request guidance on foreign affairs. Unfortunately, the diplomatic challenges facing the United States during the Washington presidency were just beginning...

About the Author:
Lindsay M. Chervinsky, Ph.D. a historian of Early America, the presidency, and the government – especially the president’s cabinet. She shares her research by writing everything from op-eds to books, speaking on podcasts and other media, and teaching every kind of audience. She is Scholar-in-Residence at the Institute for Thomas Paine Studies and Senior Fellow at the International Center for Jefferson Studies. Previously, she worked as a historian at the White House Historical Association. She received her B.A. in history and political science from the George Washington University and her M.A. and Ph.D. from the University of California, Davis. She has been featured in the Law and History Review, the Journal of the Early Republic, TIME, and the Washington Post. Her new book, The Cabinet: George Washington and the Creation of an American Institution, was published by the Belknap Imprint of Harvard University Press on April 7, 2020.

The New Criterion recently said of her book, “Fantastic…Unlike many works of popular history, The Cabinet never feels like hagiography. It lacks the reverence of works like Joseph J. Ellis’ Founder Brothers or the revisionist obsequiousness that now greets Alexander Hamilton’s name on stage…Chervinsky exemplifies the public-history ethos in her new book. The writing is clear and concise…She takes what could have been a dry institutional and political history of the Early Republic and transforms it into a compelling story of people and places.”

When she isn’t writing, researching, or talking about history, she can be found hiking with her husband and American Foxhound, John Quincy Dog Adams (Quincy for short).

Readers can request a personalized book plate here: https://www.lindsaychervinsky.com/book-plate

Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/Cabinet-Washington-Creation-American-Institution/dp/0674986482/
Harvard link: https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674986480

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lmchervinsky
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lchervinsky/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lmchervinsky
Website: http://www.lindsaychervinsky.com/

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