Monday, May 25, 2020

Sister Dear by Hannah Mary McKinnon




SISTER DEAR
Author: Hannah Mary McKinnon
ISBN: 9780778309550
Publication Date: May 26, 2020
Publisher: MIRA Books

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Author Bio:
Hannah Mary McKinnon was born in the UK, grew up in Switzerland and moved to Canada in 2010. After a successful career in recruitment, she quit the corporate world in favor of writing, and is now the author of The Neighbors and Her Secret Son. She lives in Oakville, Ontario, with her husband and three sons, and is delighted by her twenty-second commute.

Book Summary:

In Hannah Mary McKinnon’s psychological thriller, SISTER DEAR (MIRA Trade; May 26, 2020; $17.99), the obsession of Single White Female meets the insidiousness of You, in a twisted fable about the ease of letting in those who wish us harm, and that mistake’s dire consequences.

The day he dies, Eleanor Hardwicke discovers her father – the only person who has ever loved her – is not her father. Instead, her biological father is a wealthy Portland businessman who wants nothing to do with her and to continue his life as if she doesn’t exist. That isn’t going to work for Eleanor.

Eleanor decides to settle the score. So, she befriends his daughter Victoria, her perfect, beautiful, carefree half-sister who has gotten all of life’s advantages while Eleanor has gotten none.

As she grows closer to Victoria, Eleanor’s obsession begins to deepen. Maybe she can have the life she wants, Victoria’s life, if only she can get close enough.















Excerpt:

The police didn’t believe me.
A jury wouldn’t have, either, if I’d gone on trial, and most definitely not the judge. My attorney had more than a few reservations about my story. Ms. Allerton hadn’t said as much. She didn’t need to. I saw it in her eyes, could tell by the way she shuffled and reshuffled her papers, as if doing so might shake my lies clean off the pages, leaving only the truth behind in her inky, royal blue swirls.
After our first meeting I’d concluded she must’ve known early on—before she shook my hand with her icy fingers—that I was a liar. Before she’d walked into the room in shiny, four-inch heels, she’d no doubt decided she’d heard my excuses, or a variation thereof, from countless clients already. I was yet another person claiming to be innocent. Another criminal who’d remained adamant they’d done nothing wrong, it wasn’t their fault, honest, despite the overwhelming amount of evidence to the contrary, a wall of impending doom surrounding me.
And still, at the time I’d believed the only reason Ms. Allerton had taken on my case pro-bono was because of the amount of publicity it gave her firm. Reducing my sentence—for there would be one—would amplify her legacy as a hot-shot lawyer. I’d accepted her help. There was no other option. I needed her knowledge, her expertise, saw her as my final hope. I now know her motivations were something else I’d miscalculated. All hope extinguished. Game over.
If I’m being fair, the judgements Ms. Allerton and other people had made about me weren’t completely wrong. I had told lies, some, anyway. While that stripped away part of my claim to innocence, it didn’t mean I was entirely guilty. Not of the things everybody said I’d done. Things I’d had no choice but to confess to, despite that being my biggest lie of all.
But I’ll tell you the truth. The whole truth and nothing but. I’ll start at the beginning, and share everything that happened. Every last detail leading up to one fateful night. The night someone died because of me. The night I lost you, too.
I won’t expect your forgiveness. Our relationship—or lack thereof—will have gone way beyond that point. No. All I can hope for, is that my side of the story will one day help you understand why I did the things I did.
And why I have to do the things I’ve not yet done.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

Wired by the FBI by Glenn Painter




BLURB:

Christian Romano lives his life as a con-artist, burglar, drug dealer, and a ladies' man, using his good looks to con wealthy women out of jewels and money. When he is arrested and jailed in one of the most violent jails in the U.S. (Cook County in Chicago), a steamy affair begins with a nympho female jail guard. When he loses control of the romance, Christian must end the affair by reporting her to Internal Affairs. It turns out that she is already under suspicion for supplying drugs to various gang members inside the jail. He has to decide if he is ""rogue"" enough to help set her up for arrest. Meanwhile, the FBI wants to recruit Christian to gather information against a sadist ex-cop, Scott Mason, who has been arrested for murder. The risk? Christian must wear a wire and testify. The reward? Witness protection for Christian and his girlfriend and a modification of his prison sentence. Will Christian risk his life for a chance at freedom? Will the female sheriff ""get even"" with him? Or will his life end at the hands of the jail's drug lords or a lunatic former cop?


Excerpt:


Chapter 20

U.S.S. Just Kill Me Now


Once we were through that charade, Smith began to explain how it all worked.

“This is a Swiss-made Nagra recorder. It’s a little heavy, but it gets the clearest recording of any machine we have ever used. Once you turn the machine on, you must let it run until the two hours expire, then take the tape out and exchange it with another. We will come by every couple day to bring new tapes and pick up the ones you have recorded. Do you understand everything so far?”

I could feel my mouth go dry as I stared into the case and wondered, What the f*** have I gotten myself into?

Then, the sound of Smith’s voice snapped me back to attention, “Here, get a feel for it.”

I took the silver-cased recorder from him and thought to myself, It’s too heavy and clunky to ever be concealed. The recorder was the size as a Sony Walkman cassette player, but three times heavier. Two wires, four feet each, ran from the machine with white plastic heads attached to each end. I had a bad feeling about the size and shape of this thing. It would be a real concern later.

Then Rogers said, “Because the heads on this machine are so sensitive, we will tape the recorder to your upper thigh and run the wires around your leg until the heads sit directly under the waistband of your underwear.”

Out of frustration, I said, “Great, if I have to piss and someone saddles up next to me and happens to look over at my manhood, they’re gonna get an eyeful of recorder wiring. Chances are I will be beaten to death after that miscue.”

My mind kept going back to the obvious lack of insight these square, fed boys had toward the real life within a jail.

“I’m about to go back to a jail with zero airflow and 100-degree heat. We walk around in our boxers all day.”

It was crystal clear that neither of these agents gave a rat’s ass about my safety.

Smith said, “We’ll just have to tape it higher up your thigh.”

“No, how about we strap it up your ass and let you go up there face-to-face with your boy.”

That was all they wanted to hear of my sarcasm and all hell broke loose as we tried to figure out how this was ever gonna work. The real logistical nightmare hit when I finally dropped my jail uniform pants and pulled up my boxers to see how it would fit on my inner thigh. After several years of martial arts and weightlifting, my thighs were far too big to fit the recorder under my boxers. Two agents played with the leg of my underwear, as they slid the fabric up and down with no success in figuring out how to get the damn machine up under my nut sack. Finally, I had had enough.

I asked, “Does anyone here have a knife with them?” They all stared at me in stunned silence.

Rogers finally spoke up. “I have a pocketknife,” he said as he handed it to me.

I jerked my boxers off and stood there with my dick dangling in the wind for all to admire. I measured the boxers to see where this heavy sack of metal was going to be placed. I began cutting a crude square hole in the upper right leg of my underwear. I was pretty certain the recorder would fit snugly in the hole. I slid my boxers back on and held the recorder where I had just cut the hole. The fit was very good, but now there was a different problem.

The recorder showed, so I had to come up with another way to cover the hole. I decided that if I was gonna pull this off, I would have to wear a second pair of boxers over the first pair. The outer ones had to hang lower on my torso and loosely enough to cover the recorder where it stuck out of my underwear. The hope was that the inner pair would hold the recorder in place well enough so it wouldn’t slip around. If this worked, I might be able to get away with it.

In my mind, I was thinking, what a cluster f*** this operation is. This would soon prove to be the way the F.B.I. does everything. So long as they are getting what they want, all else be damned. But at the moment, I had to wear this heavy chunk of metal under my nuts and hope that it stayed put and didn’t fall from my boxers like the anchor of the U.S.S. Just Kill Me Now.

Rogers wrapped the recorder with the ACE bandage he had brought and stepped back long enough for me to give it a light tug. I tugged on it ever so gently and knew immediately that it was too heavy.

“This thing is not gonna stay on my leg while I spend several hours walking up and down the tier. Are you trying to get me killed?” I asked. “Did either of you think to bring duct tape?”

Barry Smith had the audacity to respond by saying, “I didn’t want to bring any because I did not want to take the chance of it being considered contraband here at the jail.”

“You thought to bring my suicide machine, but you thought duct tape would set off alarms?” I shot back.

By now, Williamson had heard enough and walked back to his office. He reappeared a few moments later with some heavy, clear packing tape. We used that over the ACE bandage that the feds had brought to hold the recorder up. I gave the new configuration another slightly harder tug and everything seemed better. We then moved on to the next logistical nightmare, the swapping out of the tapes. It was actually Walsh that brought it up.

“How can the tapes be retrieved from Christian without stirring up attention?”

I had seen a movie once where a thick book was carved out and contraband was kept in the hollowed-out hole inside.

“Hey, I have one of those super thick books by Michener. I think it is about ancient Israel. I could take a razor blade out when it is time to shave and cut a hole in the center pages of the book to make a cavity large enough for the tapes. What do you guys think?” I asked.

Everyone was nodding their heads in agreement.

“I can put the book in my bars on the rear side toward the catwalk where no one will notice anything different. I have about four or five books back there now. What I can do is reverse this book so that the title faces out. When Sergeant Walsh walks around the tier, that will be his cue to grab that particular book, take the tape out and replace it with a new one.” I suggested.

They all agreed with the plan, so with the tape swap seemingly figured out, I was feeling a little better. I stood up to see how the recorder looked under my pants; and to my surprise, I could not see it through the clothing. I felt ready to go back to the jail and put the second pair of shorts over the first.

Barry Smith handed me a piece of paper and said, “This is a private phone number to our office that we call the ‘Hello’ line.

“When it rings through, it will be at a central desk where all the agents can pick it up. They will only answer by saying ‘Hello.’ When the jail recording announces that it is a collect call, everyone knows to accept the charges. You will then be speaking to one of the agents in our office. If it is after hours, the answering machine will come on, so speak to it as if you were leaving a message for me or Agent Rogers.”

It both surprised and impressed me that he was willing to give me a direct line in case of an emergency. For the first time, I felt a little less like a disposable piece of trash to these people. I took a pen from Buchan and rewrote the number in code so that if it were ever found, no one could access the actual number. When I was done, I stuffed the paper in my sock for safekeeping.

I looked at the two F.B.I. agents and asked, “Am I supposed to steer the conversation toward any certain topics?”

Smith spoke for them. “Since the conversation seems to come out of Mason’s mouth so frequently, just let him go, and see what happens.”

Barry Smith then handed me a second tape to have as a backup for the one that was already in the machine. After stuffing it into my other sock, I walked out with the heavy recorder strapped under my balls.

When I arrived back to my tier, Scott was talking on the phone. I walked past him and headed to my cell to get out of the jail clothes. I stripped down to my boxers to beat the crazy heat that hung over the unit like napalm. I stuck my head out of my cell to make sure the hallway was clear and slipped the second pair of boxers over the first. After pulling the outer pair down a few inches, they seemed to cover the protruding recorder just enough. I looked down and couldn’t tell where the recorder was. Just to be on the safe side, I put on an oversized shirt and let it billow out as I walked; this looked natural for the surroundings. It wasn’t five minutes and Scott was at the bars of my cell.

“You go to the hospital?” he asked.

“Yeah, I had to wait for the MRI machine to empty before I could go in. The radiologist was taking a smoke break between every MRI.”

I walked out of my cell and turned left, away from the guard post and began the ritual of walking from one end of the long hallway to the other.

When I walked away from my cell, I could feel Scott place his hand on my back. I tried not to freeze out of panic, but he had never touched me like that before. I had to wonder, Is he cleverly checking for a recording device? I tried to push the paranoia out of my mind, but it was tough with the stakes this high.

 Author Interview

Q/What are four things you can’t live without?
My perfect vintage Jaguar which has very low miles– It is a jewel!
My Brain – I must be able to think up all these silly, weird character descriptions.
My arms and hands– To defend myself
My feet – In case I ever need to take off running from anyone (like a jealous husband).

Q/What is your favorite TV Show?
Law and Order (even the reruns).

Q/If you could be any character, from any literary work, who would you choose to be? Why?
Stone Barrington from the Stuart Woods Novels.
Why?
He is a former NYPD detective who was forced out of police work because he disagreed with superiors in the department.  He also graduated from college with a law degree and helps with cases from various law firms. These are two things I would want for myself.
Stone is a very charismatic character, good looking and smart (just like me!) Ha!

Q/what have you got coming soon that we should look out for?
I am working on a new book about a rather young man who has been railroaded by a small-town judge and jury and sent to prison for murder.
He had a clean record and had moved in with his grandparents, who were later killed by a ‘home invasion while he was at work. 
He then met a girl who moved in with him but later he threw her out.  When she returned to his property with two men (one of whom was drunk and high on drugs) he picked up a board to defend himself, hit one of the men on the side of his head,  The man died and my character was sent to prison for murder.
In fact, I have been helping him for over two years and he has a proper attorney who has filed a ‘habe’ for a new trial.  Everything is now coming to a head and his attorney feels he will have him out very soon. 

Q/What books or authors have most influenced your writing?
F. Scott Fitzgerald – The Great Gatsby
J. D. Salinger
Mario Puzo – The Godfather
Margaret Mitchell – Gone With The Wind
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Glenn Painter is single and lives in Central Florida.  He became interested in writing at an early age but did not make it his career until 2014 when he published his first book, Beyond the Sentence.

Glenn has written this story from the notes by the man who actually lived it.  However, extensive research was also require in order to make the story factual.

Glenn has also founded a company, ‘Prisoner Civil Right Services.’  He is an advocate for incarcerated individuals who have had their rights violated.  He is in constant contact with these individuals, their families and the council.  Most of his stories are inspired by ‘factual events’ that have happened to these individuals.  This makes his stories both fiction and non-fiction.

Glenn says that writing is very challenging, and you must love the trials and tribulations that come with it.  He believes that patience, perseverance and determination are required essentials to see a book through to being published.  The journey is just as important as the destination.

Website: http://www.gapainter.com
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Glenn-Painter/e/B00NETNKU6%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9875593.Glenn_Painter
Twitter: https://twitter.com/author2663

Buy links:

https://www.amazon.com/Wired-F-B-I-Deal-Signed-Devil-ebook/dp/B07WS6DQBT
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wired-by-the-fbi-glenn-painter/1132504339

The book will by $0.99 during the tour


One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.

Hello Readers!
          Welcome to my 15-week book tour which starts on April 14th and concludes on July 30th.

          This tour was planned before the onset of this terrible covid-19 virus which has invaded our world.  I want to extend my deepest sympathy to everyone, especially those who have lost loved ones. 

A donation from me will be going out immediately to the charity I have listed below and I will also be donating 25% of any royalties from the book which is featured on this tour, to the covid-19 Response Fund.  This fund gives support to preparedness, containment, response, and recovery activities. The 25% of royalties will be donated when I receive the final notification of the number of books sold. I am also encouraging all authors to make some sort of donation to help with the recovery efforts.  WE ARE ALL IN THIS FIGHT TOGETHER!

          We all are wondering what the long-term impact this covid-19 virus will be to our communities and our livelihoods, Every American, as well as the companies that have worked very hard for every author have been affected, but I have faith that we will recover from this terrible pandemic if we all stick together and we all do our part – no matter how small.

          I will also be donating, (over and above what Goddess/Fish is offering):

           $100 Amazon Gift certificate to one randomly drawn commentator
           $100 Amazon gift certificate to one randomly drawn host.

These drawings will be done via Rafflecopter that will be created by Goddess/Fish Promotions at the end of the tour.  To all of my fellow-authors – please don’t forget our marketing representatives, book agents, reviewers, commentators, hosts, etc..who are probably working from home and trying to help us. 

          I will be posting all pertinent information on my web site www.gapainter.com
once the tour is over.  The Gift Certificates will be mailed immediately after the tour is completed and the 25% will be posted once I receive Royalties resulting in the sale of all electronic and print versions of WIRED By The FBI.

I wish that I could do more, however, with everyone's support, WE WILL BEAT THIS TERRIBLE SETBACK.

          Thank you, god bless all of you and the United States of America.


                                                                   Glenn Painter                      


Monday, May 18, 2020

#Giveaway R.I.P in Reykjavik by A. R. Kennedy




This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A.R. Kennedy 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.


Traveling with your family can be murder.
One wedding party + one estranged mother = another vacation that goes array for Naomi.

Naomi is off on another international vacation. She thinks traveling with her mother will be the most difficult part of her trip until she meets the rest of the tour group—a wedding party. It only gets worse when she finds the groom dead. Everyone’s a suspect on her Icelandic tour of this stunning country.








Read an Excerpt


I had only one thought at breakfast. How did a young man die on vacation? There was no accident, no trauma, no nothing. He was fine one moment. Dead the next. It didn’t make sense.


I looked at my phone. I did the quick math. It was the middle of the night for Charlotte. I still considered calling. Awake Charlotte or just woken up Charlotte would give me the same answer—I had lost my mind. Just woken up Charlotte would be more angry about it.


I could hear her saying that it was ludicrous that I had found a dead body on vacation. Again. But this wasn’t a murder.


Milo’s death had to be what it appeared to be. A tragic accident. He drowned. The police were doing their due diligence in the unexpected death. An autopsy would reveal an accident. I could return to enjoying my vacation, with my mother.


Or at least trying to.


“What are you doing?” I asked my mother when I returned to the room after breakfast.


She was writing in a notebook, as if she were journaling. It had to be her latest fad.


“Recording my recollection of the event,” she answered.


“Didn’t the police take your report?” I asked.


“Yes.” She put her pen down and closed the book. “But this is for Dateline.”


“For what?” I asked.


“For the investigation show. You have to know it. I watch every weekend.”


“And why would you need notes?” I asked.


“Because I’m sure we’ll be called in.” There was an excitement in her voice that was disturbing. “We were eyewitnesses. You pointed it out to that guide.” She seemed oddly proud of that.


“Sigi,” I told her.


“Yeah, the guide. They’ll probably want to talk to him too. But maybe his company won’t let him talk to the press. It’s not really the publicity the touring company would want, right?”


I ignored her question. “Did you see something useful?” I asked.


“Not that I know of. But these shows would want to talk to anyone who could give them any perspective. I had a bird’s-eye view of all of you. You were only a few feet away. You flirted with the dead man shortly before his death.”


“I did not flirt with the groom, Mother.”


“I’m not judging,” she retorted. “He was a good-looking guy. You’ve done worse. Do what you want on vacation. Anyway, the shows won’t care.”


“Shows?” I asked.


“Definitely. There’s 48 Hours, plus the ID Network has a bunch of shows. We would do them all.”


This was not the mother-daughter bonding I had envisioned. Not that I had ever envisioned mother-daughter bonding for us.


She didn’t note my horror and continued, with even more excitement. “New groom dies on vacation. That’s a big story. Plus, he’s handsome. They always love when the handsome ones die.”


“Mother!” I rebuked. “He drowned. Why would Dateline or any of those shows do a story on a drowning?”


“Because he was murdered! Had to be. Who drowns snorkeling in clear calm water? I Googled it. No one has died there before. You heard the police. They told us to stay in town.”


“Considering our return flight isn’t for several days, I think we’re good.” I went into the bathroom but then stopped. “What do you mean you Googled it?” My mother was not good with technology. That was more her mother’s area of expertise. “Let me see this Google search.”


She handed me her phone. The detective had told me others had died there. I couldn’t imagine he would be wrong. Or worse, that my mother was right.


I hit her internet browser and pulled up her last search. “Death at Thingamajig.”


I handed her back her phone. “We were at Thingvellir yesterday, Mother. Not at ‘Thingamjig’.”


“Close enough,” she said, dismissing me.


I didn’t bother Googling deaths in Iceland for her. We still had a few more days on vacation and I wanted to leave the hotel again.


I glanced at my watch. “We have two hours until our tour.”


“What tour?” she asked.


“Check the itinerary. I’m going to walk around Reykjav√≠k.”


The hotel was at Old Harbour with the city center only a few blocks away. As I exited the hotel, I took in the harbour’s pier with the many fishing and tour boats docked. The pier was lined with large teal buildings, housing restaurants and touring services. Mount Esja was in the distance.


I took a deep breath of the clean air. No smog here. Other than spending time with Pops as a child, I could not remember ever breathing air as fresh.


I read the harbor’s sign about the touring companies stationed there. Whale-watching options were plentiful. I’d have to check back later on pricing when they opened.


My phone rang as I walked up the hill toward the city center. I almost didn’t check it, assuming it was my mother, asking where we were going later. I was surprised when I saw Charlotte’s name and face appear.


“What is it with you and finding dead bodies on vacation?” she asked when I accepted the video call.


“I didn’t find a dead body on this vacation,” I answered.


“That’s not what Mom said.”


I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I shouldn’t have been surprised my mother had told Charlotte. I should be surprised that I didn’t get this phone call last night. “Okay, technically, I found it. I noticed it before anyone else and I pointed it out to the guide. But the guide really found it.”


She smiled. “You certainly found your travel partner on this one, didn’t you?"


“What do you mean?” I asked.


“Mom! She’s keen on the whole murder thing.”


“The man drowned. It’s a shame. Tragic, really. But not murder.”


She huffed. “Ooh. I get it.”


I didn’t like her tone. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew it wasn’t good. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.


“Mom thinks it’s a murder, so you think it’s an accident. You always have to take the opposite side from her.”

About the Author:

A R Kennedy lives in Long Beach, New York, with her two pups. She works hard to put food on the floor for them. As her favorite T-shirt says, ‘I work so my dog can have a better life'. She’s an avid traveler. But don’t worry. While she’s away, her parents dote on their grand-puppies even more than she does. Her writing is a combination of her love of travel, animals, and the journey we all take to find ourselves.











Friday, May 15, 2020

#Giveaway Child of the Earth by Susan Crow




GENRE: Nature Writing 

BLURB:

Here is a nest egg of memories and anecdotes teased from a life uplifted by an appreciation of the natural world.

Memories of childhood in rural England, raising a family in Orkney and Lincolnshire, and retirement in Northern Scotland are threaded together into a broad tapestry of the natural year. These experiences meet with a view of Earth's uncertain future to illustrate the necessity for respect of all lifeforms and shares a passion for the wellbeing of this planet with all generations.

Child of the Earth is a source of inspiration and delight - a literary garland of hope.

Excerpt:


Growing against the friendly grey stone wall of our garden is a perfect Mothers’ Day gift of 2013. Dog roses. They are new but already showing great promise. The rose, in all its forms, has always pleased me – except, perhaps, for the poor blue rose which no one has been able to perfect. No matter how intricate a breeding program is set up, it is a sad reflection on human intervention in the natural world. Not as sad as hunting animals to extinction but, even so, it makes one ponder.

Author Interview:

First I want to say thank you for taking the time to chat with me!
Where do you get your ideas?
I have always been inspired by the natural world - I have so much to say about it! When I’m out of doors, or even watching through a window, I wish that I could share with others what it is I observe.
What is your writing process like?
I need a deadline! And I need a plan, but I need to have flexibility within the plan - but not with the deadline! Then I gather together all the relevant information and accounts and sort them into chapters. For Child of the Earth, the chapters are month by month. I find that, once I start writing, I find I want to include even more and I go on to research what it is I want to add.
What advice do you have for writers?
Write for the love of writing and your subject matter! Don’t do it for the money!
Once you’ve decided what it is you want to write, have a plan but don’t be rigid with it. Know what it is you want to communicate with the reader, and apply an inclusive method - your writing never wants to exclude!
What is the first book that made you cry?
The Pearl by John Steinbeck
I can’t remember now which part made me cry, but I do remember I couldn’t read on for tears.
Do you find it easier to write character and dialogue for the opposite sex because you are the opposite sex? (A woman writing a man’s part and dialogue for example).
Most of Child of the Earth is nonfiction, but it does include short stories.  In these, I’ve used both male and female voices, and I don’t really find it any easier (or more difficult!) to use one or the other.
What is your writing Kryptonite?
I never get writer’s block, as such, but I often have to put writing on hold to get on with other things.

 Have you ever gotten reader’s block?
Oh yes! I find it very frustrating, but it happens sometimes - especially when the text contains too many statistics.
How did publishing your first book change your process of writing, if at all?
That’s a really interesting question! I was pleased with my first book, but when I read it back, holding it in my hand, I thought there were things there which I would have put differently. I realized that my writing style should play second fiddle to the importance and message of the text. The style in my new book is still very much my own, but I didn’t allow it to dictate, as I had in my first book.

What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?
Most of the research is done as I’m writing. I use past journals, diaries, nature writing by others, and the internet. Before I start to write, I check the facts of the material I’ve collated, daub red ink everywhere, and often add to it according to what I’ve just found. I find my discipline in getting out my message leads to a flow that allows for research and writing to run side by side.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Author Biography:

Susan Crow

Susan grew up in the Isle of Axholme, which inspired the Crowvus best-seller, Child of the Isle. She has a deep love of nature which is apparent in all her writing from the poems she has had published in various anthologies, to her 2020 release, Child of the Earth.
Susan released Rosie Jane and the Swodgerump as part of the John O’Groats Book Festival. This story was written and inspired by raising her six children in Orkney. After moving to England for a while, Susan finally returned to North Scotland in 2009, and continues to write her monthly blogs, What’s It Like Up There?
Her latest book, Child of the Earth, is a nature companion, drawn from her own experiences throughout her life. It provides a colourful telling of Susan’s encounters with nature, told with a style which makes it accessible to all readers.

Author Links:
Website: https://www.susancrowauthor.com/
Publisher: https://www.crowvus.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/stempertoncrow
Blog: https://susancrowauthor.blogspot.com/
Child of the Earth Amazon Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B086P6PM5W/
Child of the Earth Crowvus Shop: https://www.crowvus.com/shop

GIVEAWAY 


Wednesday, May 13, 2020

#Giveaway 7 Steps to Clarity by Nicole Stwphen, Ph. D.





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


The sheer amount of decisions in life can become an overwhelming burden. Sometimes we just want to know the answers to our questions. We want to know we are making the right choices. It can be hard to see the right path with the noise of the world. There are voices and media all around us, influencing everything we do. In all that noise, where is the true voice, the one that knows? You can call it God or Source or the Universe or your Higher Self, but it is contained within you. Accessing it and giving it room and silence to speak to you is the real key to achieving your best life.

In seven steps, Nicole Stephen shows the way to a happier, more peaceful daily life. To reclaim yourself, you need to shut out the "shoulds," but in order to do that, you need to notice them. Exploring the questions and challenges that Nicole includes in this book will open your eyes to the pressures that you may have been submitting to unknowingly. In clearing up the way you see the world, you can clear a path to knowing yourself, and with that true voice guiding you, you will always find the way.


Read an Excerpt

Do you ever wonder what your life is all about? Why you are here? You are not alone. As a coach and teacher for many years, there is a common thread that runs through students, young professionals, and even CEOs at the height of their careers: “So what? Now what?” And there is confusion, lots of confusion. “Do I stay in my current job? How can I get a better job? Do I start a family? Do I stay with my current spouse? Why haven’t I found love yet? Why didn’t I stay in the band? I would have had such a diff erent life. Maybe I should be doing something more important, something worthy to impact the world in a positive and meaningful way?” What if I told you that there is a guru—a genie perhaps—that can answer all your questions? This person can make themselves available to you day or night, can answer any question, and can give you clear insights on any situation or decision, no matter how small or diffi  cult. And this guru is free of charge and full of love and support for you. Too good to be true? Well, it is true and the person who has all the answers to unlock your potential with ease and fun is, yes, you may have guessed it, YOU!

About the Author:

Nicole Stephen is the founder and principal consultant for Miramar Group. During her 20-year career as an executive coach and organizational development consultant she has worked to help individuals, teams, and organizations accelerate growth and realize their potential. She holds a Masters’ and PhD in Industrial/Organizational Psychology from Virginia Polytechnic and State University. Nicole lives on the coast in the San Francisco Bay area with her husband, two children, and dog Henry.


Links to buy:




Tuesday, May 12, 2020

#Giveaway Not a Fine Gentleman by Donna Hatch










Donna Hatch is the author of the best-selling “Rogue Hearts Series,” and a winner of writing awards such as The Golden Quill and the International Digital Award. A hopeless romantic and adventurer at heart, she discovered her writing passion at the tender age of 8 and has been listening to those voices ever since. She has become a sought-after workshop presenter, and also juggles freelance editing, multiple volunteer positions, and most of all, her six children (seven, counting her husband). A native of Arizona who recently transplanted to the Pacific Northwest, she and her husband of over twenty years are living proof that there really is a happily ever after.





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Margaret, the eldest of the misbegotten Amesbury family is accused of murdering her jerk of a husband and then fleeing. Conner Jackson, a Bow Stree Runner, is hunting her down to bring her to justice. Or so he thinks.

This romantic story of loss and betrayal, forgiveness and redemption, and strangers marrying, will leave you laughing, crying, and swooning. Sprinkled liberally with suspense, mystery, and heart-melting kisses, this is not your ordinary historical tale of an arranged marriage nor of redeeming the rakes. Fans of Victorian and Regency Eras as well as those seeking clean and wholesome romance with plenty of chemistry will love this story!



The Rogue Hearts Series:
The Stranger She Married 
The Guise of a Gentleman
A Perfect Secret
The Suspect's Daughter
Not a Fine Gentleman

Praise for Donna Hatch:
“Donna Hatch is one of the masters of clean romance with electric tension and smokin’ hot kisses.” ~ Reading is My Super Power Reviews


“Written with heart and depth, Donna Hatch’s books are absolute must-reads for any fan of swoon-worthy historical romance.”  ~ Sarah M. Eden, USA Today best-selling historical romance author


And now for the Cover

  

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