The White Field by @TheShadow_man – Publicist @Bookbuzznet – Blitz by @RABTBookTours

Crime Fiction, Urban Fiction, Noir, Drama

Release Date: September 18, 2020

Publisher: TouchPoint Press

 

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The White Field is a fast-paced journey of a man, Tom, fresh out of prison
and trying desperately to rebuild his life. But he is caught by mysterious,
unseen forces beyond his knowledge or control. After his release from
prison, he is dropped back into the world in the wastelands of the city. In
the menial work afforded the underclass, he begins his new life among
characters at the edges of society, dwellers of the netherworld such as
Raphael, a former cop from Mexicali singing Spanish arias in the mists of
the industrial night among drug addicts and crooked cops; Tony, a stoner
scholar with an encyclopedic knowledge of history based solely on the
intricate study of rock and roll; and Larry, the bloated, abusive manager
trapped as much as his workers in a world of tedium and repetition and
machines. Think, The Three Stooges on acid. Unable to reconnect with
what’s left of his family, Tom embarks on a criminal path more
harrowing than the one that led him to prison in the first place. Lured in
by the nefarious, Thane, he slips into a plan that will leave him with no
way back. And with no place left in this world to go but prison, he makes
one last run for freedom. Will he escape?

 

Praise for The White Field:

 

“The White Field is a rabid yet tender odyssey into the oscillating
abyss of an ex- convict degenerating into redemption. Cole writes with
haunting splendor, illuminating the dreams of the doomed.”
—Matthew Dexter, author of The Ritalin Orgy

 

“Author Douglas Cole’s breakneck prose places us squarely in
the hectic mind of a man influenced from all sides, seeking a life free from
fear. The result is a stunning narrative that is simultaneously frightening
and familiar.” —Kerri Farrell Foley, Managing Editor Crack The
Spine.

 

 

 Excerpt

 

I walked into the sun. It seared the road and the rooftops, intense,
blinding. I went up Eighty-Eighth Street through the homes and the old elms
with their heavy summer growth and darkness along their limbs, light
strobing through the shadows. I knew someone might recognize me. They might
even call the police. But I couldn’t resist. I was free, now. Nobody
could touch me.

Only those who cared, and by now there were none, would have known my
release date. My wife may have known. At one time, I imagined her writing it
on a wall calendar, marking off each day leading up to it with a big, black
X. But I knew I’d fallen far from her thoughts.

I couldn’t be sure of my children, though. They were so young when I
went in they could have forgotten all about me. My wife had remarried. Very
likely they called her new husband daddy. Very likely, they thought he was.
Events had erased me. After all, I’d made no contact. And while I had
no idea what my wife might have told them, unless she’d changed in
ways I couldn’t foresee, I knew she’d tell them the truth if
they asked and say nothing if they didn’t. At worst, they believed I
was dead.

And that life seemed like something unreal. There were no traces of it
around here. But my sense of time was way off. From counting, literally,
minutes as they passed, I went into a vast timeless trancezone where whole
years vanished. In the midst of this, I reemerged from time to time to peer
into my little cell of life with seconds hanging like drops of water on a
window ledge and refusing to fall. But now, walking this street, I was the
last person anyone around here was expecting to see.

So, as I went up Eighty-Eighth to the old house, I had this strange feeling
that I was invisible. In the dusk light, I saw the windows of the houses
blazing. Commuters on their way home shot by and curved around the meridians
in the intersections, their faces steel traps that snapped and flashed
mirror eyes and grim lips and frenzy, frenzy for home, motion so fast they
blurred into tracer ribbons. And the sun only cloaked me that much more.
Even my shadow was a rail.

And I heard it, that high tension ping, like my own past ringing from the
driveway and those days when I was a kid, too, playing into evening as our
faces disappeared in the darkness with only the square of the backboard
above and the black sphere of the ball and the heat and breath of the other
players around me. Then I saw them, three boys playing basketball in the
driveway. One was a tall gangly kid with long black hair and ripped jeans
and a T-shirt with the word ENEMY printed on it. Another kid stood beside
him, but the light made it hard to see his features. Then, the ball landed
on the rim, bounced up, arced over to the other side of the rim, hung there
suspended in the net for a moment and then dropped through. The third boy
stood back from his shot with his hands on his hips, breathing hard, turning
his head slowly as I saw, I swear, my own face there in front of me.

With a brow of concentration like a hawk’s predatory gaze, he looked
at me as our eyes locked for an eternal moment that I thought carried some
recognition, but the moment changed before I could read it.

Then, I was passing on, and my son returned to his game.

About the Author

Douglas Cole has published six collections of poetry, a novella and has a
novel, The White Field, coming out in September with Touchpoint Press. His
work has appeared in several anthologies as well as The Chicago Quarterly
Review, The Galway Review, Bitter Oleander, Louisiana Literature and
Slipstream. He has been nominated twice for a Pushcart and Best of the Net
and received the Leslie Hunt Memorial Prize in Poetry. He lives and teaches
in Seattle. His website is https://douglastcole.com/.

 

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Eating the Forbidden Fruit by @reppin_bpent – Publicist – @BookBuzznet – Tour by @RABTBookTours

Crime Fiction / Family Drama / Women’s Fiction

Date Published: March 30, 2020

Publisher: Pearl Publishing

 

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Eating the Forbidden Fruit is a gritty fiction novel loosely based on true
events in author Roland Sato Page life. The newcomer author delivers a
personal journey into his rise and demise as a St. Louis City Police
Officer. He takes the readers on a roller coaster ride of good old family
memories to the nightmarish reality of being a police officer indicted on
federal drug charges. During his trial, he wrote memoirs as a testimonial of
redemption. Roland’s case stems from the conflict of his childhood
affiliation and his oath to uphold the law. What is certain one can’t run
from sin for karma is much faster. The author actually wrote the novel years
ago however after battling Lupus he lost his motivation to complete it.
Promising his mother, Fumi Karasawa, who recently passed that he would
finish what he started. Roland opened his computer to complete telling his
story. He also would like to encourage others with determination they too
can reestablish position as a productive citizen.

Roland was a popular tattoo artist in the St. Louis area however once diagnosed with Lupus he lost his hand and eye coordination bringing the body art career to a halt. No other choice he had to reinvent himself transforming visual art into literary art. Writing is quite therapeutic for the newly ordained writer. The silver lining is his family support kept him going. “With tragedy comes blessings”.

 

 

Review

Holy Moly! I got so much more than I bargained for with this book. It’s full of so much more than I was expected. I loved Roland Sato Page’s voice and I loved the way he brought together his story. It has such a REAL feel to it. It flows so smoothly and I couldn’t put it down!

 

About the Author

Author Roland Sato Page was born in Brooklyn New York in a military
household with a mother from Osaka Japan and a combat trainer father with
three war tours under his belt. He grew up in a well-disciplined home with
five other siblings. As he got older his family relocated to St. Louis where
the author planted his roots and also pursued a military life in the Army
Reserves.

Roland married his high school sweetheart and started a family of four.
Roland joined the St. Louis police department where his career was cut short
when he was convicted of federal crimes due to his childhood
affiliation.

After enduring his demise, Roland rebounded becoming a tattoo artist
opening Pearl Gallery Tattoos in downtown St. Louis Mo. The company grew
into a family business yet another unfortunate incident tested his fate. He
was diagnosed with Lupus which halted his body art career. However, with
tragedy comes blessings. Roland’s sons took over the business and
propelled the shop to a higher level. Consumed with depression, Roland began
writing to occupy the time. With a newfound passion, he traded visual art
for literary art.

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Blood & Sand – Tour by @RABTBookTours

General Fiction (cozy small town fiction)

Date Published: August, 2019

Publisher: Pen & Key Publishing

 

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A tiny town. A broken tavern. And one woman searching for a place to
belong.

Logan Cole is used to getting her way and what she wants more than anything
is for her father to get out of jail and restore her old life in New York.
All she has to do is wait for his scandals to fade and the online rancor
against her family to subside. Low on cash and out of options, she takes a
bus north looking for anonymity and stops in the smallest town she can find:
Ramsbolt, Maine.

When she stumbles into Helen’s Tavern, she finds a place in need of a
make-over and a grandmotherly woman who could use some help. Soon, she finds
herself growing fond of the bar, Helen, and the town. She’s even found
a friend in Grey, the local plumber. The tiny town puts her at a crossroads:
keep hiding her identity to preserve her new reputation or let down her
guard and reveal her true self to the people she’s grown to love. But
the choice is ripped from her hands when tragedy strikes the bar and saving
it requires every tool at her disposal.

Can Logan find a true home among the people of Ramsbolt Maine?

The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt is a series by Jennifer M. Lane,
award-winning author Of Metal and Earth and Stick Figures from Ramsbolt.
Fresh and heart-warming, the series tells the stories of a small town
looking for belonging.

Review

Blood & Sand takes us on a journey that is well-written, has well developed characters, and is realistic. I love that it brings us to a new place that we can easily picture in our minds. I loved Ramsbolt!
Logan’s story is a wonderful one that made me feel all sorts of things.

Lane throws in the wit that helped cut some of the tension and I really enjoyed that. A book that I totally recommend, go one click!

About the Author

A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a
bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master’s in
liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware,
where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials.
She is the author of the award-winning novel Of Metal and Earth, of Stick
Figures from Rockport, and the series of stand-alone novels from The
Collected Stories of Ramsbolt, including Blood and Sand. Visit her website
at https: //www.jennifermlanewrites.com/

 

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Starfighter Rising by @DanSeegWrites – Blitz by @RABTBookTours

 Science Fiction

Date Published: 9/17/2020

 

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The enemy wanted him. The galaxy needed him.

Sixty years ago Nolvarics nearly conquered the solar system. They were
defeated by starfighters.

Konran dreamed of becoming a starfighter, but he blew his one shot five
years ago. Now his life is stuck in neutral as a glorified rock
hauler.

He didn’t expect to find Nolvarics lurking within the solar system.
They didn’t expect him to survive the confrontation.

Now all eyes are on Konran as he is plunged into a whirlwind of space
battles, peril, and conspiracy. The Nolvarics will stop at nothing to catch
him, dead or alive.

Can Konran rise up and claim his destiny, or will the galaxy fall?

 

Excerpt

Finally, his target comes into view. Barely visible despite the sparkling backdrop of one hundred million Milky Way stars, an icy, gravitationally bonded cluster of space rocks emerges through the inky darkness of deep space: one of a hundred Nolvaric operating bases lurking out here in the Kuiper Belt.

Some of the ice rocks loom large with the diameter of Neptune’s Nereid. Others glisten like meteors, swirling dangerously throughout the chaotic cluster on rapid, angular orbits. Ambient light is scarce at 5.9 billion kilometers from the sun, but Konran has no trouble seeing. Holographic overlays enhance his vision, displaying the objects teeming about by rendering their infrared emissions and quantum gravity distortions. Augmented so, the scene almost looks like a video game from the ’80s—the 2180s, to be precise.

Nolvaric starfighters converge on Konran like bloodthirsty mosquitos at sunset. With four wings like crab legs, pointed fuselages like herons’ beaks, and shark-fin masts protruding from the top and bottom, the enemy starfighters glint like demon spiders against the galactic backdrop. Known as Askeras, these are the nimblest, nastiest, most infamous of all Nolvaric starfighters. No longer able to ignore the escalating starfighter threat, Konran’s plasma cannons unleash upon his foe. Mounted in rotating turrets at his Sparrowhawk’s wingtips and nose, the cannons gyrate like shoulders in sockets, auto-tracking Nolvaric targets and spraying plasmic death in all directions. Enemies surround him, and Konran jolts and jags through their ranks. Askeras explode like firecrackers as he evades their return fire.

Passing through their midst, he stabilizes his trajectory and slows down just enough, letting them get close. The Askeras flock behind him, closing in as if for the kill.

Works every time, he thinks with a grin.

Konran inverts his Sparrowhawk, and his cockpit and craft reorient in an instant, flipping his point of view toward his aft thruster. In the same instant, his wingtip and nose-tip plasma cannons transmute from guns to gravito-nuclear rocket engines, providing him maneuvering capability as his formerly aft thruster assumes the role of megacannon.

Konran’s fingers find the targeting solution before his computer signals a lock.

He pulls the trigger, unleashing a concentrated kiloton blast of plasmic devastation from what moments before had been his backside. Fifteen Askeras disintegrate as forty more scatter. Konran reverts his Sparrowhawk, his weapons and propulsion systems resume their standard roles, and he rockets once more toward the gravitationally bonded cluster of chaos that was the Nolvaric operating base.

His Sparrowhawk careens around the diameter of an ice-encrusted, Texas-size rock, skirting no more than a dozen meters above its surface. More crablike Askeras descend upon him, and he releases his orbit, quickly dodging through a cloud of man-size space debris before losing the Askeras between a scattering of larger space rocks.

Gravity switches constantly within the agitated anarchy of asteroids, but Konran adjusts effortlessly, surfing the gravitational gradients like he was born for this kind of action. His guns tear through another pack of Askeras as he winds around an oblong icicle half the size of Portugal. And then there it is: a glowing, pulsating ice rock at the center of the swirling chaos—the heart of the Nolvaric operating base.

It rotates there, seemingly slower than the surrounding bedlam. It beckons to Konran, washing his cockpit in an ethereal, incandescent green. More Askeras focus on him, and he diverts all power to his aft thruster, jetting forward on the power of a thousand sequential gravito-nuclear explosions.

This will be the only attack run, the one chance to win or die.

Konran inverts his Sparrowhawk. His cockpit flips and his craft reorients in preparation for the killing stroke. A green light appears at the edge of the energy source, then another and another, revealing the deadliest of the Nolvaric defenses: concentrated plasmic energy bundles propelled like cannonballs from the heart itself. The green plasma balls fill the vacuous space before him, each trying to end him. They destabilize as they get close, exploding with vicious stored energy and rocking his Sparrowhawk with relentless plasmic shockwaves. Konran dodges one, then ten, then fifty of the blasts, intent on his target.

His megacannon comes within range, and he depresses the trigger.

A column of orange plasma leaps from his Sparrowhawk: a kiloton of destruction inbound on the target as if someone had just hooked a firehose up to a hurricane and funneled in all the lightning at once. The green Nolvaric heart shudders, wracking and cracking beneath the blast. Konran’s sensor displays indicate massive fissures forming within the glowing green asteroid—but it isn’t dead yet. His trigger finger itches as his megacannon cycles and he dances between waves of green plasma balls.

One more well-placed shot will complete the job.

Konran knows the spot, feeling it more than seeing it within the monstrosity of a space rock. He takes aim, angling slightly with a careful boost from his dual nose-tip cannons—which, inverted so, are presently providing propulsion to his Sparrowhawk.

He squeezes the trigger.

And with an enormous green flash, a Nolvaric plasma ball smashes straight into his cockpit. And everything goes black.

 

 

About the Author

Daniel Seegmiller grew up loving Star Wars, Mech Warriors, and all things
sports. He started out as an English major before switching to his other
love, science. He has an MS in mechanical engineering and has worked on
everything from biomechanics, to machine learning, to defense technology.

Daniel loves dreaming up awesome adventures…like, literally, he
wakes up in the middle of the night with the best ideas. Most of the stories
he writes are for his kids. Starfighter Rising is his debut novel.

He lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico with his wife and three squirrelly
children.

 

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Twitter: @DanSeegWrites 

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Conversations with the Past by @AuraImbarus – Blitz by @RABTBookTours

 How to Let Go of the Past, Redefine Your Present, and Create a Positive
Future

Non Fiction / Self-help

Date Published: Sept 17

Publisher: Rainbow Ridge

 

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There are no accidents in this life—and the more aware we become, the
more we’re able discover the patterns that challenge, elevate, and
enlighten us. In “Conversations with the Past,” Dr. Aura Imbarus
delves into many of the profound experiences she’s had over the
years—from emotional breakdowns to spiritually elevated
states—in order to help people discover and understand their own
purpose in life. Through this exploration, we will all be inspired to
examine our own lives and take the necessary steps to enhance our happiness
and well-being.

Emotional, physical, and spiritual experiences are all part of the
intricate, interwoven tapestry of existence. And though it may sometimes
feel like finding our life’s purpose is difficult and elusive, Dr.
Imbarus demonstrates how it can, and will, be revealed to the curious mind
and willing hear.

 

 About the Author

Dr. Aura Imbarus is an awarded educator, freelance journalist, motivational
speaker, and author of the critically acclaimed Amazon best-seller and
Pulitzer Prize entry, Out of the Transylvania Night: A Story of Tyranny,
Freedom, Love and Identity (Bettie Youngs Books, 2010), a memoir detailing
her life in Romania during the Communist regime and an upcoming self-help
book, Conversations with the Past: A Journey Home (Rainbow Ridge Books,
August 2020).

She is also the President and Founder of See Beyond Media, a company
focusing on adolescents’ challenges in the 21st century, having as its
launching platform See Beyond Magazine (www.seebeyondmag.com).  See
Beyond Media also offers life coaching and author coaching
(www.seebeyondmedia.com).

Dr. Imbarus has a BA in Foreign Languages; MA in American and British
Studies and a PhD in World Humanities. Since 1998, she has been teaching
high school and college level classes in So. Cal. Dr. Imbarus is a licensed
hypnotherapist, having trained with Dr. Brian Weiss and Dr. Wanita
Holmes.

She was featured on NBC, ABC, CNBC, Good Morning San Diego, Forbes Romania,
etc.

In 2019, she received President’s Volunteer Service Award signed by
President Donald Trump.

Aura Imbarus is the President and Co-Founder of RAPN – Romanian
American Professional Network and one of the founding members of RACC
– Romanian-American Chamber of Commerce, Los Angeles Chapter. She sits
on the Advisory Council of CA Ballet, is a member of Royal Society of St.
George, SACC – Swiss-American Chamber of Commerce. She was a mentor
for Scott L. Schwartz Children’s Foundation, a non-profit and
professional organization whose mission is to help children with
disabilities, and she sat on the Board of Wesley Foundation UCLA and Blue
Heron Foundation.

She writes for Palos Verdes Pulse, The Global Woman Magazine (London);
Elephant Journal, Beverly Hills Times Magazine, The Immigrant, Hermannstader
Zeitung in Transylvania and also works as a freelance journalist for
Entertainment and Sports Today.

In her free time she likes to go dancing, hiking, skiing, yoga, gym,
sailing; she loves traveling.

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Against My Better Judgement by @btpolcari – Blitz by @RABTBookTours

Mauzzy and Me Mystery, Book 1

Mystery, New Adult, Young Adult

Date Published: September 16, 2020

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

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When freshman year at the University of Alabama draws to a close, Sara
Donovan finds herself grappling with the same old question—listen to
her head or follow her heart. What she ends up doing is purchasing an
Egyptian

souvenir funerary mask, and after a mysterious phone call, she’s certain a
ring of antiquities smugglers are operating in Tuscaloosa.

With finals never far from her mind and her return to ‘Bama hanging in the
balance, she should be studying. Instead she launches her own investigation
to prove her mask is indeed a stolen artifact, and not a cheap trinket. When
it comes time to snoop, Sara is more than ready, or at least she was until a
hot new teaching assistant moves in next door.

Suddenly she learns things are never as they seem. Ever.

About the Author

After a long career as a business executive, B.T. Polcari tried to retire.
Spoiler alert: he’s really bad at retirement. Bowling, tennis, and sailing
can only keep you busy for so long, so B.T. is now pursuing his childhood
dream of becoming a published author.

 

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Kindle

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Amazon.de Paperback

 

Barnes & Noble:

Nook

B&N Paperback

 

Books A Million (Paperback Only):

BAM Paperback

 

Apple Books (Digital Only):

iBooks

 

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Pairs With Life by @JATauthor – Publisher @hurnpubbooks – Blitz by @RABTBookTours

Humorous Fiction, Romantic Comedy 

Date Published: September 15, 2020

Publisher: Hurn Publications

 

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 Forty-eight-year-old Corbett Thomas, a one-hit wonder of the 90s, now
works as the lead sommelier at Napa Valley’s hippest restaurant. Set
to become one of the few Master Sommeliers in the world, Corbett
self-destructs during his final exam, ruining his last chance at capturing
the stardom and adoration he got a taste for in his youth.

When billionaire game designer, Brogan Prescott, asks Corbett to consult on
a major vineyard acquisition, Corbett sees it as a shot at redemption, until
he learns of Brogan’s ridiculous vision of a virtual-reality, Woke Ant
Colony Winery. Disgusted, Corbett decides to buy the vineyard himself and
preserve its magic and history. Cashless, clueless, and with his reputation
in tatters, Corbett enlists the help of his bass-player-turned-lawyer Seamus
O’Flaherty, who may have finally lost his stomach for Corbett’s
bad ideas; his uber-rational daughter Remy, who wants Corbett to uncork some
family secrets he’d rather leave in the cellar; and Sydney Cameron,
whose sudden appearance in Corbett’s life may repair his heart or
shatter it forever.

With their help-and sometimes despite it-Corbett discovers what Brogan has
known all along: a four-billion-dollar gold deposit lies beneath the
vineyard. If Brogan acquires the property, the ensuing gold rush will
destroy Napa Valley.

But if Corbett can get out of his own way long enough to purchase the
vineyard first, he’ll be faced with the hardest decision of his life:
take the fame and fortune he desperately craves, or save the soul of the
valley he loves so much.

 

Excerpt

 

Let’s get one thing clear – I won that bet fair and square, even
though I cheated.

I blame the whole thing on Rick Dornin, who was being particularly douchey
that night. I used to be able to choose whichever party I wanted to serve
without question. That is, until Dornin arrived at Appellation with his
anal-retentive online calendar and industrial-grade Napoleon complex.

Yes, that Appellation. The most coveted dining experience in all of Napa
Valley, and one of only nine restaurants in America awarded three Michelin
stars. It took a DNA sample and a copy of your credit report to get a table,
and then you’d better be ready to cash in your 401(k) when the bill
came.

The evening started out normally enough. I arrived at the restaurant an
hour before my shift to check reservations, talk to Chef Dan about the
evening’s specials, and think of pairings for the prix fixe. Dornin
was in his office—a modified broom closet next to the staff bathroom
that looked like a hoarder’s den with one, tiny deer trail leading to
his desk. In fact, he was always in his office, even when service was
slammed, which drove me batshit crazy. I don’t care if you’re
General Manager or General Patton—when it’s time to schlep a
plate or buff a glass, you step up and do it.

Anyway, I poked my head through the doorway and said, “Hey,
Rick,” trying to keep things light and cheery. “What do you know
about this Harrison party at eight?”

“Whales,” he replied, not bothering to look up from his
purchase orders. “Big whales, like Moby Dick whales.”

“Sweet!” Visions of stockbrokers trying to one-up each other
with bottles of Screaming Eagle at five thousand bucks a pop danced in my
head. Tips so big they come in a brown paper bag.

“Yes.” Dornin finally looked up at me and grinned like he
learned how to do it from an infomercial. “They’ll be in the
Veraison Room. With Andrew.”

“What?” I lunged into the tiny office, nearly tripping over a
carton of water glasses. “You can’t give it to
Andrew!”

“I can give it to whoever I want.” He went back to his purchase
orders, feigning a nonchalance that made me want to smack him. “If I
want to move Felipe off of bussing and let him pop some corks, I could do
that, too.”

Time for a different tack—one that wouldn’t involve me going
full-on Hannibal Lecter. “I’m just saying that a party like that
comes to a restaurant like this to experience the highest level of service
in the world. I’m the guy they’re coming for, not Andrew. I sit
for my Master Somm next week, and—”

 “You know what you are, Corbett? You’re an overpaid
bartender.” Dornin had thin lips and an Adam’s apple the size of
Detroit, and it bugged me. “You trained for twenty years to learn how
to pull a cork from a bottle and tell people that red wine goes with steak.
Whoop-tee-freaking-do. You’ll work the floor tonight, and you can have
the Jansen party on the terrace at seven-thirty.”

My left eyebrow started twitching, which happens when I get stressed out.
Apparently, no one can see it, but to me, it feels like a two-year-old is
digging tiny fingers into my face and stretching it like saltwater taffy. I
considered trying the No One Has Experience At Up-Selling Like I Do
approach, but this was the third time in as many weeks I’d had such a
run-in with Dornin.

I was done.

It was time to talk to Chef Dan.

Most people remember Chef Daniel Foyer from his five seasons on Elite Chef,
The Food Channel’s number one show from 1998 to 2002. With a chin so
chiseled it could slice a burnt chuck steak and blue eyes that screamed,
“Come taste this gazpacho in my bedroom,” he was the prototype
celebrity chef. But Father Time had been most inhospitable to Chef Dan, and
for the past couple of years the poor soul tried to counteract a rapid aging
process by dunking his scalp and Sam Elliott-sized mustache in a
fifty-gallon drum of jet-black hair dye. The net effect was so incongruous
with the rest of his wrinkled face that I could barely look at him without
drowning in the shore break of cognitive dissonance.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the guy. He was a loyal and trusted
friend, and straight-up the most amazing culinary artist of my generation.
But if I’d had any money, I would have bought stock in Just For Men
and eventually retire on my Chef Dan profits alone.

About the Author

John Taylor has been writing about wine since 2012, but his meanderings on
life began way before that. Born and raised in San Diego, California, John
moved to Los Angeles in 1982 to pursue dreams of screenwriting and
filmmaking. He attended the University of Southern California, where he
majored in Shattered Dreams and False Hopes, with a minor in Getting Gut
Punched By Reality. After being handed a degree in Journalism in 1987 as a
consolation prize, John dove into a career in music. Because getting
gut-punched just isn’t painful enough.

By 1996, John and his band, The Uninvited, had produced four independent
albums and became one of the most popular acts in the western United States.
This lead to a deal on Atlantic Records, which released the band’s
self-titled debut album in 1997. The band had two Top 100 hits, and toured
nationally with Dave Matthews, Blues Traveller, Third Eye Blind and many
other acts. Their music appeared in the TV shows Beverly Hills 90210 and
Party of Five, and in the motion pictures The Commandments and North Beach.
The band can also be heard in several HBO Documentaries, video games and on
that annoying “One Hit Wonders of The 90’s” station your
co-worker always plays on Spotify.

In 2001, John’s vast experience in shattered dreams was once again
called into play as the band hung up their touring shoes for good. After a
brief but horrifying career in real estate, John got wise and made a career
out of his favorite hobby – wine – and has held various sales
& marketing positions in Napa Valley since 2011. John’s writing
career started in earnest at this point, with blogs, essays and short
stories appearing in various publications. John is the author of three
novels, including the aptly-titled Pairs With: Life, which will be released
by Hurn Publications in September 2020.

 

Author Links

Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Goodreads | Podcast | YouTube |
Pinterest

 

Buy Links

B&N | Amazon | Kindle | Walmart eBooks (Kobo) | AbeBooks | The Book Depository | Alibris | Publisher | Indiebound

 

 

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Summer of L.U.C.K. by @LauraStegman Publisher @IntensePub Blitz By @RABTBookTours

Middle-Grade Contemporary Fantasy

Published Date: 9-15-20

Publisher: INtense Publications LLC

 

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Stuttering Darby is never perfect enough for her mother. Justin’s been
silent since his dad died. Naz is struggling to learn English. But after
they meet at summer camp, mysterious calliope music from an abandoned
warehouse grants them power to communicate without words. When they sneak
inside, the dark, empty space bursts into a magical carnival. They’re
greeted by the ghost of Leroy Usher, who asks for their help convincing his
family to restore the carnival to its former glory. In return, he promises
to teach the kids how to find their voices. As Darby, Justin, and Naz are
swept off on a series of midnight adventures via Mr. Usher’s carnival rides,
they discover they’re capable of more than they ever imagined. With each
challenge, their confidence in communicating – and in themselves
– grows. Meanwhile, they scheme to persuade the Usher family to revive
the carnival. But when Darby’s bunkmates trick her into starring in
the camp talent show, her budding confidence falters. Can she risk being
less than perfect by performing in the show and speaking up to Mr. Usher’s
resistant son? If not, she’ll put the carnival in danger and sabotage her
most important quest: to believe in herself, stutter and all.

 

Excerpt

 

Chattering blackbirds and blue jays pulled her back to her surroundings.
The scent of wintergreen berries, bluebells, and wild sassafras from the
bushes restored her resolve to continue by herself. She walked a bit faster
up a steep incline, removing her official Camp Inch Sweatshirt and tying it
around her thin waist.

At the hilltop, one sign pointing left read CAMP INCH VIA WHITE FALLS
HIGHWAY: 1/4 MILE EAST. Another pointed right, cautioning PRIVATE PROPERTY!
Her pulse quickened. She followed it past bushes and trees.

Below her, an orange football-field-sized building, dressed up with
castle-like turrets at each corner, rose several stories high. Darby smiled
with glee. I found it! Massive green letters spelling out
“L.U.C.K.” were painted on its side, glowing brighter than ever. A
surrounding fieldstone wall led eastward toward camp.

She hurried down to a spot beside the immense wall where ten golden
horseshoes sat lodged in concrete. Same as when Monica and I found them! The
sun glinted on a colorless glass circle embedded above the horseshoes. Last
time they’d rushed too much to notice the lines inscribed on it. Now, she
knelt to read what they said.

All That We Give

Comes Back to Benefit Ourselves

With no time to figure that out, she placed her feet inside two of the
horseshoes, like last year. Her heart pounding, she waited anxiously for the
faint rumbling she and Monica had heard – or possibly imagined.

Will it even work without her?

The ground trembled ever so slightly beneath her.

She shivered with relief. Yes, I feel it!

Last year, their counselor came after them to end the adventure before it
began. This time, the rumbling got louder. Darby ducked to avoid the small
rocks and dust that fell from the stone wall looming above her head. Grating
and creaking accompanied deep vibrations inside the fieldstone. A Darby-size
section swung out on hinges, exposing a latch chain fastened to an old
wooden door. She tried to remember to breathe. Or how to breathe. Overcoming
the urge to back away, she yanked the chain, pushed the door open, and
strained to see.

For a few seconds, semi-darkness that lay beyond kept her cemented in
place. Finally, anticipation conquered her apprehension. I can’t stop now.
Electrified, Darby squared her shoulders and stepped inside.

 

 

 

About the Author

Laura Segal Stegman grew up with parents who valued reading, and she still
finds herself spellbound by middle grade fiction. Some of her favorites,
then and now, are The Diamond in the Window, Ellen Tebbits, All of A Kind
Family, Wonder, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and The Miraculous. As
a writer, her non-fiction credits include collaboration on the travel book
Only in New York, and her feature stories have appeared in Los Angeles Times
and Westways Magazine, among others. A long-time publicist, she has
represented numerous arts organizations. Summer of L.U.C.K. is her debut
novel.

Contact Links

Website

Twitter: @LauraStegman

Instagram: laura_stegman

Facebook

 

Purchase Links

Publisher

Amazon

 

Our Friendship Matters @KimberleyBJones @RABTBookTours

Young Adult

Date Published: October 5, 2020

Publisher: Rhetoric Askew Publishing, LLC

 

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Leah and Sasha are 17-year-old friends who had been close to one another
since elementary school, but as the summer approaches they find their
friendship tested in ways they never anticipated.

Following graduation, Sasha’s privileged life and perception of the
world around her is suddenly altered when an old childhood friend persuades
her to join in a campaign against an injustice after his best friend is
killed by a cop.

But joining the protest has unforeseen consequences for Sasha, distancing
her from Leah, who becomes jealous of Sasha’s new friends and finds
herself on the opposing side, protesting alongside her group of new white
friends.

As the tension mounts between the two bitterly opposed factions, a tragedy
strikes and threatens to make Sasha and Leah enemies. Can they find a way to
resolve their differences, putting them to the side and learn to accept each
other’s viewpoints? Or is their long friendship finished for
good?

 

 Excerpt

“We ordered four large pizzas,” said Melissa.

“Seriously, pizza?  No salad? I have to watch my amazing
figure.”

 I glimpsed out the window, people were still protesting. I had
imagined that it would have all been over by now. There was Ricardo and some
school friends marching in the streets holding signs.

“Chloe stay inside. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” asked Leah.

 “I saw my neighbor, Ricardo. I just want to go talk to
him.”

 I must talk to him.

“Why?” Leah sighed.

“Because the guy killed by the police was his best friend.”

“There you go with that again.” Leah rolled her eyes. Alright,
hurry and I will sit with Chloe until you get back.”

“Thanks, just make sure Chloe gets some pizza and save me a
slice.”

I walked into the crowd, bumping into people, and apologizing. I started
yelling for Ricardo. I found him but he was fading in the crowd. I focused
my eyes on Ricardo’s red shirt and continued through the crowd like I
was in a football game running between players holding the ball.

There was a soft tap on my shoulder, it was Ricardo. His eyes were red from
screaming and chanting on the street while holding a sign. Protesting seemed
like his career.

“What are you doing out here?”

“We won our volleyball championship game, so we went to the Fountain,
but I wanted to tell you I am sorry for what happened to your
friend.”

At first, I didn’t grasp that it happened to a boy at his school and
a close friend of his, but now my heart desired to show sympathy.

“Yeah, he was my best friend, and we were on the basketball team
together.”

“So, how did it happen?”

“They mistook him for a guy that robbed a gas station and the bad
thing about the situation is they caught the real robber later that
night.” As Ricardo was explaining what happened, his eyes began to
turn red. “This is too dangerous; you shouldn’t be out
here.

I became interested in more of the story. Wondering exactly what happened
to Mitchell and who would tell the story better than his best friend. So, I
built up enough guts to ask him how he died?

“The police shot him by mistake, and nothing happened to the cop that
shot him; that’s why I’m out here fighting for
justice.”

My heart fell below my stomach after listening to Ricardo alarm me of
Mitchell’s death. I never met the boy, but I mourned for him like he
was my friend too. That could’ve been anybody. It could’ve been
Leo or Ricardo. Hell, I could’ve been me.

“I’m sorry for your friend because I saw your post last night,
and I wanted to check on you.”

I must help in any way that I could but what could I do? What if something
happens to me?
I mean the police were deep in downtown St. Louis, on every
corner. What if they shoot me by mistake for helping the protesters?

As I turned to walk back to the ice cream parlor, Ricardo grabbed me by the
arm.

“We have meetings in my basement every Saturday if you ever want to
come to one.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Interesting, but I had too much to do with getting ready for prom and
graduation. He kind of convinced me to go though. My skin started to crawl
as my mind imagined such a tragedy happening at Chester Academy. We
don’t have those problems, so we don’t worry about them. The
kids at Chester should join in with the kids at their school to help
protest. It would show them that other schools care.  Although, it
might not be a good idea because the kids at Chester are too rich and snobby
to understand.

Leah was sitting with her arms folded, face wrinkled, and cheeks blushing
red.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

I know I’ve left her too long with Chloe, so I gave her a sorry
smirk, pushing my lips out for her to forgive me.

Everyone left. She had to stay behind to babysit Chloe, while I chatted
with Ricardo.

“What took you so long?”

“I wanted to ask Ricardo more questions about Mitchell, who went to
school with them.”

“You shouldn’t be talking to him about that stuff or even be
around him. You know how jealous Leo is.”

“I was just curious, and we were childhood friends. Leo has nothing
to be jealous of and I won’t let him come between us because
there’s nothing going on.”

Leah shoved the pizza in my chest and stormed out the door. Every time I
brought up Ricardo, Leah’s face cheeks would flush and her lips would
clench. So, why would Leo care if he’s not here? One thing is for
sure, I’ve been Leah’s friend for so long that I know she can
twist a story. So, I was making it a priority to rush home to call
Leo.

When we got home, I ran upstairs to call Leo.

“I’m glad to hear your voice. I laid on my stomach in the bed
with my feet in the air and crossed my legs.

 

About the Author

Kimberley B. Jones is a professional early childhood educator. She was born
in the small town of Saint George, South Carolina, on September 12, 1982.
She graduated from Woodland High School in 2000, Benedict College in 2004
with B.S., Child & Family Development, and Ashford University in 2013
with a Masters in Early Childhood Education.

After receiving her education and being a military spouse, she held several
jobs as a preschool teacher and a preschool director, but she wanted to use
her education by writing children’s books. She wrote her first book in
college for a children’s literature course. She has since
self-published several books that can be found on Amazon.

 Currently, she is branching off into writing fiction YA, NA, and A
novels on issues in society. She loves writing and would change it for
nothing in this world. She is now representing Rhetoric Askew, a great
publishing company. Kimberley is the author of “Our Friendship
Matters,” soon to be released October 5, 2020 and so much more coming
soon.

 

Contact Links

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Twitter

Blog

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The Wall by @NJ_Croft Tour by @RABTBookTours


Suspense/Thriller

Date Published: 8/17/2020

Publisher: Entangled Publushing, LLC

 

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Set in an uncomfortably familiar future…

We built a wall to keep the dangers of the world out…but was it actually
meant to keep us in?

Your every word is monitored. Your every movement watched.

If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.

And if you stay within the wall, the Loyalist Party will protect you.

Gideon Frome knows that safety is an illusion. Ten years ago, his perfect
life was shattered, and he left Washington DC in disgrace, sentenced to
serve on The Wall. He may be back, lauded as a hero, but he knows he’s
only traded one prison for another, assigned a position to the infamous
Secret Service.

Kate Buchanan uses her illegal predictive engine to monitor the
“chatter,” flagging perceived threats to America. When the
program suggests that nuclear war is imminent, and people around her start
to die, Kate can no longer hide. She needs help, and it comes from the most
unlikely place—Gideon Frome, a ghost from her past.

The American people thought they were safe, but it’s becoming
shockingly clear that the price of safety is too high. And somehow,
together, Kate and Gideon must tear down the walls that keep their country a
prisoner.

 

Review

This an excellent book that makes you wonder if is fact or fiction. It is very interesting first page to the very ending.
I could not put this down. It was entertaining and quite frankly believable.
Very fast paced and you have to be on your toes to keep up as the story moves very quickly .

Read this book – you will totally enjoy it.

About the Author

After a number of years wandering the world in search of adventure, N.J.
Croft finally settled on a farm in the mountains and now lives off-grid,
growing almonds, drinking cold beer, taking in stray dogs, and writing
stories where the stakes are huge and absolutely anything can happen.

 

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