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Blog Tour: The Fallen Agent by Oliver Tidy @Olivertidy @carolinebookbit

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Goodreads|Amazon US|Amazon UK

Release date: October 10, 2017 

Genre: Thriller

Blurb: 

Jess Albion has recently started a new life on the other side of the world with a new identity. She used to be MI5. Then a job went bad, someone died and she was made an example of in the British courts. But MI5 look after their own. Or they did until rumours of a planned Al Qaeda biological terror attack on London started circulating. Now someone in the British security services is giving agents up in return for information. No price, it seems, is too high to save London from the ultimate threat.

When Jess’s fresh start is compromised she has a choice to make: run and hide and spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder or go looking for the threat and snuff it out. On her own, she’d run, but she has Nick on her side.

The Fallen Agent is a story of love and hate, of loyalty and betrayal, of revenge and all that goes with it.

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for The Fallen Angel! I have a character spotlight to share today. 

 | Who is Jess?
Jess is an ex MI5 officer. She is in her late twenties. She was in the job only a handful of years before finding herself at the centre of a show trial for causing the death of a civilian. She went to prison. Now she is trying to start a new life somewhere far away from all that.
 
| The Inspiration for Jess’s Character
The Fallen Agent was inspired by that finest of BBC TV dramas: Spooks, in particular Season 3 Episode 6. In Spooks, Zoe, an MI5 officer is convicted in a British court of the unlawful killing of someone unpleasant. She is sentenced to gaol time. I finished watching the episode thinking, now, what if this happened.
 
| The Creation of Jess Albion
Seeing as Jess is based on the character Zoe from Spooks, played by Keeley Hawes, I could not help but see that person every time I thought of Jess. I found it a help to have a ‘ready made’ character waiting to be manipulated.
 
| About Jess’s Character
Jess displays many of the character traits one would expect to see in a seasoned spook. She is tough, pragmatic, intelligent, capable, no nonsense, determined and resourceful, for example. But she also retains some humanity. She still cares. She can be affected emotionally by events. She has not become completely hardened to life.
 
| Does she have any similarities with anyone ‘real’?
About as close to anyone real as Jess gets is Keeley Hawes, or rather the character Zoe she played in Spooks. (Am I beginning to sound obsessed?)
 
 
 
| What do you like most about Jess?
Her strength and dedication. That she looks like Keeley Hawes. (I am obsessed!)
 
| What do you dislike about your protagonist’s character?
I can’t readily think of anything that I dislike about Keeley Hawes. Sorry, I mean Jess, of course.
 
| Would you and Jess be friends ‘in real life’?
In real life I fear that Jess (and Keeley Hawes) would both dismiss me as a bit of a dimwit, undeserving of their attention. Sad but true.
 
| What’s Next?
I am going to write another Jess Albion. But before that I need to pen the fourth installment in the Booker & Cash series.

About the Author: 


Crime writing author Oliver Tidy has had a life-long love affair with books. He dreams of one day writing something that he could find in a beautifully-jacketed hard-cover or paperback copy on a shelf in a book shop. He’d even be happy with something taking up space in the remainder bin, on a pavement, in the rain, outside The Works.

He found the time and opportunity to finally indulge his writing ambition after moving abroad to teach English as a foreign language to young learners eight years ago.  

Impatient for success and an income that would enable him to stay at home all day in his pyjamas he discovered self-publishing. He gave it go. By and large readers have been kind to him. Very kind. Kind enough that two years ago he was able to give up the day job and write full-time. Mostly in his pyjamas.

Oliver Tidy has fourteen books in three series, a couple of stand-alone novels and a couple of short story collections. All available through Amazon (clickable link to Am Author Page). Among his books are The Romney and Marsh Files (British police procedurals set in Dover) and the Booker & Cash novels, a series of private detective tales set in the south of England and published by Bloodhound Books.

Oliver is back living on Romney Marsh in the UK. His home. He still wakes in the night from time to time shouting about seeing his books on a shelf in Waterstones.

For more on Oliver Tidy and his books, check out his website: https://olivertidy.com/

Or follow him on:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/olivertidy

FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/Oliver-Tidy-467297426793288/

 

Blog Tour: Always With You by Hannah Ellis @BooksEllis @lolasblogtours

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Always With You banner
This is my stop during the book blitz for Always With You by Hannah Ellis. This book blitz is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours. The book blitz runs from 3 till 9 October. See the tour schedule here.

Always With You is only $0.99 on Amazon for a limited time!

Always With YouAlways With You
By Hannah Ellis
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Age category: Adult
Release Date: 3 October 2017

Blurb:
A secret kept for more than twenty years. A daughter intent on finding the truth…

In 1994, twenty-one-year-old Evelyn Taylor left England to backpack around Australia. When she stopped off in the dusty outback town of Kununurra, she never expected to fall in love with the place – and the people. But Joe Sullivan captured her heart, and when her fun-filled year in Australia came to an end, saying goodbye to him was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

In 2017, Evelyn’s daughter, Libby, embarks on her own Australian adventure. Grief-stricken following her mother’s death, she’s determined to find the father she never met.

Little does she know that digging up the past will be more complicated than she ever imagined.

You can find Always With You on Goodreads

Only $0.99 for a limited time!
You can buy Always With You for only $0.99 for a limited time on Amazon
Always With You is available to read with Kindle Unlimited.

Excerpt: 

Excerpt 1

 

“I’m going to come straight out and ask,” Heidi said, pausing from filing her nails. “Do you want a hug? We could just sit here and cry for the morning if you want? I’d deal with anyone who tried to interrupt.”

I chuckled lightly as I started the process of extracting my outer layer of clothing and readying myself for a morning of making beds and cleaning up after a bunch of strangers. “No, thanks!”

“We can find a minibar to raid if you want?”

“I don’t think so.”

“A regular-sized bar then, if you insist!”

“Did Mel message you?” I asked, pulling on the ugly grey tabard and switching my shoes for a pair of well-worn Crocs.

“Only like a thousand times,” Heidi said, swivelling to sit upright on the couch. “She told me to look out for you today. As if I don’t look out for you every day! She’s actually driving me a bit crazy. You know she had the cheek to invite me over for dinner tonight?”

“She is awful sometimes,” I said, deadpan. “What a cow.”

“But why does she think I need an invitation? Is she trying to make a point about all the times I come around without being invited? Like every Friday night for the past ten years! I’m family. Why do I suddenly need an invite?”

“Well, you’re not actually family,” I reminded her.

“They’re your family, and I’m your family, so I’m related to them through you.”

“Just two small flaws to that equation,” I said flatly. “I’m not related to them or you!”

“I’m your best friend!” she said, outraged. “We’re bound by the knowledge of each other’s deepest secrets and most embarrassing moments. It’s more of a tie than blood, that is. And of course Mel and Rob are your family. You say the weirdest things sometimes. I don’t know why you insist on identifying as a poor little orphan girl.”

“I don’t!” I spluttered. Heidi stared at me, her eyebrows at odd angles. “I’m not even an orphan,” I mumbled. “I have a father somewhere.”

Heidi settled herself back into the couch. “Let’s talk about him.”

“Let’s not.” Sometimes I wished I’d never mentioned my father to Heidi. The snippets of information I’d found out about him before Mum died had played on my mind for a while, and I’d confided in Heidi at the time. I still knew little more than his name. Heidi had been more excited by the revelation than me. She’d spent time searching for him on the internet but hadn’t found out much, other than that he still lived in Australia – where my mum had met him. Heidi had wanted to get on the first plane and go track him down. The more Heidi encouraged me, the more I laughed it off as a crazy idea. After all, I’d managed perfectly well without a father for twenty-one years; why did I need one now?

Because you don’t have a mother any more, the annoying voice inside my head reminded me.

 

 

 

 

Excerpt 2

 

 

“Are you seriously going to sleep there?” Andrew asked.

“My bed is taken!” I flopped ungracefully into the hammock and wriggled to get my balance right. “And this is really comfy.”

“I’m not sure it’s safe to sleep out here.”

“I’ll be okay. Everyone’s so friendly.”

“I was thinking more about the wildlife.” He glanced around, nervously. “There’s about ten thousand species of things that can kill you around here.”

“Ten thousand?” I asked, amused.

“Approximately!”

“I’m sure I’ll survive. You don’t need to babysit me!”

“Not sure I can really sleep in my bed either with all that racket going on.”

“You’ll have to find your own hammock then,” I said. “I’m not shari—” The screech that cut me off was loud, wild and far too close. Jumping out of the hammock, I was behind Andrew in a shot and clinging to his arm. “What on earth?” I said, looking up at the source of the noise.

“Bats,” Andrew said. “One of the few things around here which won’t kill you!”

“Bats?” It was too loud for bats.

“Yeah. Fruit bats are really loud. And really big.”

Rustling overhead drew my attention and the screech came again. Two huge black creatures flapped their massive wings, fighting and shrieking before taking off, causing a breeze as they left.

“Oh my God! They’re huge.”

“Yep,” Andrew agreed.

“What are you doing?” I asked when he manoeuvred himself easily into the hammock.

“I found myself a hammock, like you suggested.”

“But that’s mine.”

Light from the nearby path bounced off his eyes, glimmering as he grinned mischievously. “You got out.”

I glared for a moment. Then I walked purposefully over to the hammock and took hold of it with both hands, giving it a quick, forceful tug. Andrew flailed before tumbling out. Smugly, I reclaimed the hammock.

“You got out!” I said innocently when he brushed himself off and stood looking down at me. The hammock wobbled when he climbed in next to me, and I turned my nose up at having his feet beside my head. “You better not snore,” I said.

“You actually think you can sleep in this?”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s pretty wobbly for one thing.” He rocked the hammock to make his point. “And did I mention the wildlife?”

“You’re a bit of a scaredy cat, aren’t you?”

“I’m not the one who jumped a mile at a little bat.”

I gave him a quick kick before I closed my eyes. “Goodnight.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt 3

 

I was happy to see Cam and his family turn up only a few minutes later. They had spent their Christmas Day on the river. Three boats pulled up to the riverbank and the rowdy occupants announced their arrival with whoops and cheers and a few of them singing “We Wish you a Merry Christmas” at the top of their lungs.

“How’s my favourite British chick?” Cam asked, giving me a hug. “Having a good Christmas?”

“Yeah,” I said, my thoughts still lingering on Joe and Beth and wondering what had happened. “It’s been really good.”

“It’s about to get better,” he said. “I’m teaching you to water-ski.”

I frowned. “I saw a croc down there earlier.”

“You better learn to stay up on your feet then,” he said with a grin. Then he turned to shout, “Evelyn’s first attempt at waterskiing coming up! Someone get a camera and everyone gather round for a laugh!”

“Thanks!” I said, following him to the boat.

It was so much fun. To everyone’s delight, it took me a while to get the hang of it, and there were a few hilarious false starts which saw me nose-diving into the water. Then I got a feel for it and managed to get up out of the water. Cam steered the boat down the river, picking up speed as we left the house behind. He glanced back occasionally and shouted encouragement.

“Let’s turn around and show them what a pro you are,” he said after a while. We headed back and a cheer arose as we passed the house with me standing relatively confidently on the skis. Joe had returned and I caught his eye. I was having such a great time and laughed loudly before we left everyone behind again. On my next drive by, I got a bit cocky and lifted an arm to wave. Disaster. I let the rope go as I lost my balance and crashed spectacularly into the water. Below the surface, I spent a moment upside down and confused before hitting the air again, coughing and spluttering. Joe was at the riverbank and crouched to my level.

“You okay?”

“Think so,” I said, choking and reaching for his hand. “I lost the skis somewhere.”

“Don’t worry about it. Cam’ll get them. You scared me for a minute. Thought I was gonna have to brave the crocs and jump in after you!”

He pulled me out in one movement and I stumbled on my jelly legs, falling into him. “You okay?” he asked again.

“What happened?” Cam shouted, turning the boat around. “You think you’re the queen, giving everyone the royal wave?”

“I thought I was getting good,” I said, laughing.

 

 

 

 

Hannah EllisAbout the Author:
Hannah Ellis lives in Munich with her husband and two little boys. She’s originally from England and has lived in America, Australia and Ireland. As well as writing, she also teaches English to kindergarten kids. In her spare time she likes to read books, drink tea and eat chocolate. She goes jogging regularly but hasn’t decided if she really enjoys it or not. She’s a huge fan of sunshine, and the many Munich beer gardens.

You can find and contact Hannah here:
– Website
– Facebook
– Twitter
– Goodreads
– Amazon
– Bookbub

Giveaway
There is a tour wide giveaway for the book blitz of Always With You. One winner will win a signed paperback of Always With You and some swag, picture below. Open International.
Always-With-You-Giveaway

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:

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Blog Tour: The Little Bakery on Rosemary Lane by Ellen Berry @AvonBooksUK

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Goodreads|Amazon US|Amazon UK
Release date: September 7, 2017

Publisher: Avon

Genre: Women’s Fiction 

Blurb: 

**Take a trip to the Yorkshire village of Burley Bridge, where a new arrival is going to shake things up…**
Growing up in a quiet Yorkshire village, Roxanne couldn’t wait to escape and find her place in the world in London. As a high-powered fashion editor she lives a glamorous life of perennial singlehood – or so it seems to her sister Della. But when Roxanne gets her heart broken by a fashion photographer, she runs away, back to Della’s welcoming home above her bookshop in Burley Bridge.


But Burley Bridge, Roxanne discovers, is even quieter than she remembered. There’s nothing to do, so Roxanne agrees to walk Della’s dog Stanley. It’s on these walks that Roxanne makes a startling discovery: the people who live in Burley Bridge are, well, just people – different from the fashion set she’s used to, but kind and even interesting. Michael, a widower trying to make a go of a small bakery, particularly so. Little by little, cupcake by cupcake, Roxanne and Michael fall into a comforting friendship.


Could there be a life for Roxanne after all, in the place she’s spent 46 years trying to escape?


Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for The Little Bakery on Rosemary Lane! I have an excerpt to share today. 


Excerpt: 

She peered at him squiffily, wondering if there had been a trace of sarcasm in his voice. No, she was just being paranoid, and no wonder – it had been a terrible day, so of course she’d drunk too much and was feeling sensitive. But what the hell? She was tottering off now and dancing, still on her own, feeling happy and light and not caring that Sean had just thrown her a concerned look, and was shaking his head and muttering into someone’s ear, or that she was one of the oldest women in the room.

Sean waggled his hand to beckon her over but Roxanne just laughed and turned away. How boring he was, never venturing onto the dance floor. Age didn’t matter one bit! Britt was beside her now; skinny, sexy Britt, who Sean reckoned to be around forty, although no one was sure and she refused to divulge her age.

Roxanne glanced back at Sean and cried, ‘C’mon, it’s your party! Come and dance!’ He just gave her an inscrutable look and disappeared back into the crowd.

Now more people had joined Roxanne and Britt on the dance floor: Johnny, Serena, Kate, Louie and a couple of new girls from Roxanne’s preferred model agency. They were all dancing and whooping, hair flying, and nothing mattered to Roxanne anymore. Not until she glimpsed a new arrival who was looking around expectantly. Marsha! What was she doing there? Sean didn’t even know her. Roxanne stopped dancing and stared, realising now that Marsha hadn’t come alone, and that Tina Court was hovering at her side. Tina, who’d been hired as the new fashion-director-in-chief! Roxanne had seen her at enough events to recognise her, even in dim light. She was a tiny woman, bird-like with pointy features and brows plucked to the point of near-invisibility. Her long, straight black hair hung in a glossy sheet, and her wincingly tight outfit comprised a shimmery cobalt blue dress with a silver belt and towering nude heels. Marsha was still wearing the same cream shirt and dark skirt she had had on all day. Now the two women were laughing together as if enjoying a particularly hilarious joke.

Roxanne glanced around wildly for Sean, seized by an urge to demand to know why they were here. Okay, so Britt had probably pulled together the guest list, but Sean must have been involved at some point. He’d have been happy to delegate responsibility for the bar staff, the DJ and drinks – but not who was coming. Maybe Britt had insisted Sean invited Marsha, with her being an editor of a glossy magazine now? Roxanne supposed that made sense. But why Tina – the one Roxanne was apparently being so brave and stoical about? Her blood seemed to pulse at her temples as she watched them accept drinks from a waiter and gaze around as if they were utterly entitled to be there.

‘Okay, Rox?’ That was Serena, gently touching her arm.

Roxanne flinched. ‘Yes, I’m fine . . .’ She tried to carry on dancing, realising how terribly drunk she was now, and aware of several glances in her direction. She needed water or more of that puffed rice. It was too hot in here, that was the trouble; lately, her internal thermostat seemed to have gone haywire. She tottered away and stepped outside, onto the red metal fire escape where she inhaled the evening air. From here, she took in the view of London; it was unusually warm, even for late May, verging on stuffy. Perhaps a storm was brewing.

Blog Tour: The Man Who Died by Antti Tuomainen @antti_tuomainen @orendabooks

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Goodreads|Amazon US|Amazon UK
Release date: October 10, 2017

Publisher: Orenda Books

Genre: Crime Fiction 

Blurb: 

A successful entrepreneur in the mushroom industry, Jaakko Kaunismaa is a man in his prime. At just 37 years of age, he is shocked when his doctor tells him that he’s dying. What is more, the cause is discovered to be prolonged exposure to toxins; in other words, someone has slowly but surely been poisoning him. Determined to find out who wants him dead, Jaakko embarks on a suspenseful rollercoaster journey full of unusual characters, bizarre situations and unexpected twists. With a nod to Fargo and the best elements of the Scandinavian noir tradition, The Man Who Died is a page-turning thriller brimming with the blackest comedy surrounding life and death, and love and betrayal, markinng a stunning new departure for the King of Helsinki Noir. 

I’m so delighted to be helping to kick off the blog tour for The Man Who Died today! I have a fantastic guest post from the author to share today. 


Guest Post: 
 The Truth is a Funny Thing

 

Two and a half years ago I found myself at another curious crossroad. Life has a habit of doing that: taking you down one road as far as you can go, then suddenly announcing that this where it ends. ‘Thanks a lot’ you might say, but it doesn’t really solve the geographical problem.

I had recently published my fifth novel The Mine, and I was trying to think of the next book. I wanted to write and needed to write – because that is what I do and have to do in order to be happy – and I was trying to get started, but it wasn’t happening. It wasn’t happening for several reasons.

 

One reason was that by that time I had written five very dark novels ranging from the icy North of The Mine to the dystopia of The Healer and I honestly felt I had given all I had in that direction, at least for the time being. (You never know about the future. I might decide tomorrow that I’m going to write something that is darker than all those five books combined.) I also realized a far more serious predicament. I had held back.

 

I had been restraining myself in my writing. I vividly remember a scene in one of the earlier books that I was writing and suddenly saw that I could make it funny. Very, very funny. But it didn’t fit the overall mood of the story. It would have stood out like a pink suit at a funeral. So I kept that alternative scene to myself and actually forgot about it for a while. Then, as I was searching for a new story, I remembered the scene and the feeling I had had at the time. It was almost an epiphany. It was obvious what I needed to do.

 

What are some of my greatest loves as far as artistic influences go? Noir. Comedies.

 

So there.

 

I was on my way. I watched and re-watched all that I had always loved so much, starting from The Marx Brothers. I love their lunacy, intelligence, sheer lovable insanity. I watched Fargo again. What a great, great film it is. (The television series is brilliant, especially season 1.) I re-read Elmore Leonard’s novels. I discovered they were even better than I remembered. He was one of the writers that got me into this writing life to start with. Same with Lawrence Block. He’s written both dark books (his Matt Scudder books are simply great noir novels and highly recommended) and lighter, funnier books starring burglar Bernie Rhodenbarr. I returned to those as well. It was like finding a well of fresh water all over again.

 

Most importantly, I followed my instinct. It’s such a cliché – to follow one’s heart – but there you go. It is true. Especially if you’re a writer. You simply have to write what you have to write. No way around it. And so many happy things followed that turn in the crossroads.

 

I told my literary agent what I was going to do. He said go for it. I didn’t have much in the beginning. Just a man going to see his doctor about flu-like symptoms and then hearing that he has been poisoned over a very long period. Then: enter the mushrooms and the mushroom business that was perfect for a host of reasons. One: I didn’t know anything about it. Two: I made nearly all of it up. Three: it had just the perfect amount of absurdity to it.

 

At first I was unsure of the setting. I had previously set all my novels in Helsinki and had made the city I love one of the characters in the books. Now I wanted to change that with everything else. I only had to look in my own past. I spent my childhood summers in Hamina, a small seaside town about two hours from Helsinki. I made it the golden, sunny, offbeat place that I remembered.

 

I had a blast writing the book that became THE MAN WHO DIED. By that, I don’t mean that writing was easy. It never is. But I knew I had a good story and the tone I had been missing even though I hadn’t really known it. I felt free. I was able to paint with all the colors, to go as far as I wanted, because now it all fit. It was the kind of story I wanted to tell.

 

I think I learned my lesson. As a writer, I need to trust my heart and instinct. If I love to laugh and be moved, and if I find life both tragic and comic I can’t exclude neither one. And what I hope to achieve as a writer – what I would like to do – is make the reader see the same and make the reader laugh and perhaps cry while enjoying a wild ride filled with twists and surprises.

 

Because, sometimes, the truth is the funny thing, and vice versa.

About the Author: 


Finnish Antti Tuomainen (b. 1971) was an award-winning copywriter when he made his literary debut in 2007 as a suspense author. The critically acclaimed My Brother’s Keeper was published two years later. In 2011 Tuomainen’s third novel, The Healer, was awarded the Clue Award for ‘Best Finnish Crime Novel of 2011’ and was shortlisted for the Glass Key Award. The Finnish press labelled The Healer – the story of a writer desperately searching for his missing wife in a post-apocalyptic Helsinki – ‘unputdownable’. Two years later in 2013 they crowned Tuomainen ‘The King of Helsinki Noir’ when Dark as My Heart was published. The Mine, published in 2016, was an international bestseller. All of his books have been optioned for TV/film. With his piercing and evocative style, Tuomainen is one of the first to challenge the Scandinavian crime genre formula, and The Man Who Died sees him at his literary best.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blog Tour: Dan Knew @fjcurlew

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Release date: September 2, 2017

Blurb:

A Ukrainian street dog is rescued from certain death by an expat family. As he travels to new countries with them a darkness grows and he finds himself narrating more than just his story. More than a dog story. Ultimately it’s a story of escape and survival but maybe not his.
The world through Wee Dan’s eyes is told in a voice that will stay with you long after you turn that last page.
 
The animals in this book are all real, as are their stories. The people’s names have been changed to protect their privacy. Fact or fiction? Well, dogs can’t talk, can they?
 

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for Dan Knew. I have an extract from the book to share with you today.

Extract:

Dan Knew – Extract
 
Scotland 2016
 
I knew it was going to be a bad day: the worst day. The bathroom was full of wasps, buzzing and buzzing. I could hear them from my bed. She screamed, “What the hell am I going to do now? Shit!” I tried to move: to help her, but I couldn’t.
 
 
Ukraine 2002
The End Of The Beginning
 
It was so hot. Too hot to be out in the sun. Safer here in the shadows. Safe from the heat, from the dangers of daytime. The ground was dry and dusty and I could smell the burning of the sun, feel it licking at the walls all around me.
I was with my family: me, my brother and sisters, and my mother. I wasn’t very old and still needed my mother to help me get food, to look after me. She wouldn’t let me feed from her any more; she brought back food instead.
I wanted to hunt. To go out with her. ‘Not yet’, she growled. ‘Not yet’: her teeth bared, her eyes narrow. I knew that meant stay. Serious stay.
We were living under a building. There was a hole we could creep through that led to an almost-underground place, and it kept us safe. We had to hide from a lot of things. From the noisy, big machines that could run faster than us. They would kill us, squash us flat! I had seen it once. A dog that wasn’t quick enough. Trying to get that last piece of food. Snatching at the ground. Eyes staring. A bad noise. The body of a dog.
When the machine had gone I watched, as the other adult dogs sniffed the air, then walked towards it, slowly, slowly, checking all around. Noses high, hackles raised, senses on alert. Fresh meat. They pulled at it, tearing bits of flesh from its body. Growling and snarling at each other.
The stronger dogs ate first. I watched my mother edging forwards, trying to sneak her way to the front. A quick dash, a snap, a growl, and she was running back with meat in her mouth.
I ate well that day. I knew it was dog, but it was dead. It tasted good. Better than the usual scraps that we ate most days. We were hungry a lot of the time, you see. When food came we ate. It didn’t matter what it was.
 
My mother was out trying to find something for us to eat. I could hear her rummaging through the garbage cans, snuffling through bits of paper and plastic. If she found something she would try and hide it from the others. Run back to us with it before they saw her. There were many of us, you see. Lots of dogs living around here, and we had to fight some of the time.
Well, the adults would fight and we would watch, learning, practising, waiting, until it would be our turn. Usually it was about food, sometimes territory; some other dog wanting our place. Our patch. Occasionally one of them just got angry. I didn’t know why.
Sometimes we would work together, all of the dogs. We’d chase an enemy off. Another dog maybe, from a different pack, a different area. There were other animals for chasing too. Birds, bigger than me, white and noisy with bright orange beaks that could stab. They were scary and we young dogs would keep ourselves well hidden from them.
Noisy, hissing cats with claws sharper than my teeth. Rats. They were food too. Sometimes my mother would catch one and we’d eat. But they could fight, the rats. They could be mean and my mother had scars on her face from them. She had a lot of scars. They all did: the older dogs.
 
Our biggest enemies were the two legged ones. The humans. We had to hide ourselves really well when they were around. I heard them that day. Their feet stomping. I could see my mother. She was running back to us.
My mother.
Running.
Looking back at them, then forward to us. I could sense a very big fear from her. There was a long pole which they lunged at her with. Something pulled her back suddenly by her neck. It was so quick. They had her at the end of their pole. I could see her eyes, wide, staring. Her feet scrambling to stand but she couldn’t.
I didn’t know…I didn’t know what was happening but it was all bad. I kept hidden and watched as they threw her into the back of one of the noisy machines. A big one that had a very bad smell. There were dog noises too. Whimpers, cries, very quiet ones. Very sad ones. Pain ones. I was filled with a big fear and sadness all at once. All together. Mixed up and scary.
The men were coming towards our hiding place. Closer and closer they came. Their smell was bad. It was danger. I was shaking and so, so, scared. One of them had a big bag in his hand. The other one had the pole. I edged back as far as I could. Back, back into the darkest of the dark places. I hoped they couldn’t see me.
They were poking with their pole, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. I couldn’t see it but I could hear it, smell it, feel it scraping the ground, breaking the air. I was shaking and shaking. There was a yelp. Lots of yelps. I knew the sound. My family! The men had them. They threw them into the bag.
Human voices. A door slamming. The noise of the machine.
The whimpering was getting further away. Nothing left but the smell of the big machine and the badness it took with it.
I stayed there, in my hiding place, and watched. Staring at what had been. Now a space. An emptiness. Nothing but bad feelings. The sun slipped down low in the sky. The shadows grew long and disappeared. It was night time. I listened. The sounds had all changed. I couldn’t hear any of the other dogs. No snuffling, growling, nothing.
It was too scary for me to go out, even though I was hungry. I curled myself up into a tight safety ball, tucked my head under my legs as far as it would go, tried to get to sleep. It wasn’t easy. I kept thinking and thinking about what had happened. Pictures of what I’d seen. Awful ones.
I had never been alone before and I didn’t like it. There was nothing to snuggle up to. No other heartbeats. No kicks and dream noises. No snuffles. No breathing, apart from mine. And mine sounded so loud in this silence that was everything now. This bad, bad silence. Maybe the next day would be better?
 
I could feel the strength of the sun through the stone of the wall, smell the heat, but I didn’t move. I stayed and watched. When I had to go to the toilet I did it in the den, even though I knew that it was something I shouldn’t do, I was too afraid of the outside. I missed my family so much but I didn’t howl, I knew I couldn’t. I had to be as still and quiet as the emptiness that was left.
All day I waited, pricking my ears at every sound, catching smells, trying to recognise them. There was nothing. They weren’t coming back, were they? I had to move. My stomach told me so, my senses too. I had to move to stay alive. Darkness. Wait for the safety of darkness.
When it came I crept out very slowly, keeping my body low on the dusty ground. So low. Food was what I needed more than anything. I was so hungry that it hurt. I stopped for a moment and sniffed at the air, looked around. There were the shadows of trees and buildings and machines.
I crept a little bit further, standing taller. Then my nose caught it. Meat. I forgot about being scared and ran towards it. The smell. My mouth was wet.
The food smell was coming from a building quite close to our home. I had only seen it from further away before. It was a very noisy place with a lot of people, and at night time, the thump, thump, thump of music. Lots of laughter and humans having fun, but I knew that anywhere there were humans was dangerous for us. We had to be very careful. We kept far away if we could.
Tonight I had to go close.
There was a big piece of hard ground with lots of machines standing on it. I tried not to look, just run towards the smell of the food. Suddenly it was there. A machine, heading straight for me! The lights blinded me. I couldn’t move. I…
A human screamed and I felt a hand swoop me up and lift me so high, away from the machine. My heart was thumping and I was shaking. I didn’t know what was happening to me. If I was in danger, or if I was safe. The hands felt…safe. The human smell felt…safe.
‘Oh, look at you. It’s okay. Really it is.’ A man held me up high and sort of jiggled me, laughing. He must have been really big because I was so far above the ground.
‘Let me see. Is he okay?’ a woman asked.
Her voice wasn’t like the others I’d heard. The noises were a bit different, softer. There was a good smell coming from her. A smell of something friendly. Something kind. Something not hungry, not scared. She felt happy. Good.
‘You are so cute!’ she said. She held me close to her and I snuggled in, hiding my head under her arm. ‘Mum won’t mind,’ she giggled.
‘What about HIM?’ the man with her asked.
It didn’t sound nice. I don’t think he liked HIM.
The woman shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Don’t care really. Mum will be delighted.’
I couldn’t see anything because I kept myself tucked under her arm where I felt safest. The noises all changed. The smells too.   We were getting further and further away from my home. Further away from everything. That much I knew. But I felt safe. She felt safe. My eyes got heavy. The jiggling of her walk, the beat of her heart, the sound of her breathing, were all comforting. I fell asleep.
 
 

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About the Author:

 
Fiona dropped out of school aged 15, because being the consummate rebel, she hated it! After becoming a single parent she decided to return to education, graduating in 1996 with an honours degree in primary education. Ah, the irony!
As soon as she graduated she packed everything she owned into her Renault 11, including her daughter, two dogs and a cat, and headed off to Estonia to become an international school teacher. After fifteen years of teaching, predominantly in Eastern Europe, she returned to the UK .
She now lives on the east coast of Scotland with two Scottish rescue dogs and a disgruntled Portuguese cat.

Fiona is the author of two books:
To Retribution – A love story/political thriller set in times of turmoil.
http://amzn.to/1YlMDqy
 
Dan Knew – A fictionalised account of her travels told through the eyes of Dan, her rescued Ukrainian street dog.
http://amzn.to/2rQQWiL
 
 
Dan Knew Blurb
 
A Ukrainian street dog is rescued from certain death by an expat family. As he travels to new countries with them a darkness grows and he finds himself narrating more than just his story. More than a dog story. Ultimately it’s a story of escape and survival but maybe not his.
The world through Wee Dan’s eyes is told in a voice that will stay with you long after you turn that last page.
 
The animals in this book are all real, as are their stories. The people’s names have been changed to protect their privacy. Fact or fiction? Well, dogs can’t talk, can they?
 
Links:-
https://www.facebook.com/FJCurlew
 
Twitter @fjcurlew
 
Website
https://fjcurlew.com/
 

Blog Tour: 37 Hours by J.F. Kirwan @kirwanjf @TAsTPublicity

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Goodreads|Amazon
Release date: March 2017

Publisher: HQ Digital 

Genre: Thriller

Blurb: 

The only way to hunt down a killer is to become one.

Imprisoned by MI6 for two long years in solitary, Nadia suddenly finds herself free again. But there is a price to pay for her release. Another dangerous and near impossible mission – retrieve the Russian nuclear warhead stolen by her old nemesis, the deadliest of terrorists.

But he is always one step ahead, and soon Nadia finds herself at the front line of preventing London from disappearing into a cloud of ash. Only this time, she is ready to pull the trigger at any cost.

And with the clock counting down from 37 hours, time is running out…

I’m thrilled to welcome you to my stop on the blog tour for 37 Hours! I have an extract from the book to share today.


Extract: 

Extract from 37 Hours, Chapter 1

Nadia heard the familiar rattles and clanks down the corridor. Steel bar gates unlocked, opened, locked again. Distant footsteps. Coming her way. She stopped her third round of push-ups and sat back on the wooden bench in the cell she’d barely left in almost two years. No visitors, no phone calls, no internet, no television, no papers. Books occasionally, classics. Minimal human contact.

They kept her in the dark, because they still weren’t convinced she’d given up all her secrets, and had classified her ‘need to know’ status as zero. They kept her hidden, afraid she’d talk about the Rose, and shame the British government over what it had created and almost let loose on its own kingdom. Afraid she’d let the public know they’d narrowly dodged a nuclear war with Russia. The government could invoke plausible deniability. Just another foiled conspiracy. But it wasn’t over. Cheng Yi was dead, but the unknown client was still out there. The threat was still real.

He would try again.

Maybe they’d keep her there for good. She’d killed two people. The world was better off without them, but British justice took a dim view of unlawful killing. British justice… She’d not seen a lawyer, nor been charged as far as she was aware. No visitors. She tried not to reopen that particular can of tarantulas; it never helped.

In the first six months, the thought of someone visiting her, Jake, maybe, or Katya, kept her going. But after a year the pain became unbearable. Nobody came. Nobody cared. And so she worked out, she read, and the rest were just bodily functions. She often sang the Cossack lullaby before lights out, just to practise using her voice, and to reach out to her older sister who used to sing it to her when they were young, soothing her while their parents screamed at each other downstairs. Nadia prayed Katya was all right, and comforted herself that above all, Katya was a survivor.

The sounds drew nearer, the tell-tale rattle of iron keys on a large ring. She knew the routine. She wiped sweat from her forehead with a mouldy towel, and stood to attention at the end of her cot, next to the washbasin. No mirror, no glass anywhere, a metal sink and lavatory in the corner. Light filtered through the misted glass and steel bars. She faced the solid metal door. Maybe she’d get coffee today. It would be cold, but that didn’t matter.

Footsteps grew closer. Two sets, not one. Another routine medical inspection? There hadn’t been an interrogation for months. Jake’s ice-bitch ex-lover and current boss, Lorne, had come regularly in the first nine months, until she could extract nothing new. Initially Nadia had played tough, until Lorne showed her photos of Ben’s funeral – the man who had helped her so much in the Scillies, yet asked for nothing in return – whereupon she’d cracked and told Jake’s MI6 handler everything she knew.

Lorne informed Nadia she would receive no visitors, because no one knew where she was: some British military high-security facility. Probably not even on the books. Nadia doubted anyone would visit even if they did know, after what had happened back in the Isles of Scilly. Unless it was to spit in her face, something she’d welcome after two years of solitary. But Jake must have known, and yet he never came. That was a kick in the stomach. And inevitably, she’d become angry. Now, after two years, it had cemented into a deep resentment. She might just lash out at the first unfortunate soul who came to see her.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door. A double-clank as the deadbolts retracted. A small scratchy noise as someone slid the latch and peered through the glass eyehole. The door didn’t open. Nadia stayed absolutely still. Come on, you bastards, give me my bloody breakfast! The routines of each day were sacrosanct, propping up her sanity. Still the door didn’t open. Voices, muffled, she couldn’t make anything out. A high-pitched cry, female, stifled.

Nadia was suddenly gripped by panic. What if they were going to kill her? Take her outside, shoot her and bury her? Nobody would know; no one would care. She clenched her teeth and fists, suppressed the fear. This was England, not Russia. But her arms and legs tensed like coiled springs, just in case.

The heavy door swung open slowly. She smelled her sister Katya before she saw her, the perfume she knew so well. Katya walked around the door, into full view, tears sliding down her cheeks as she held out her arms.

‘God, Nadia, I’m sorry it took so long.’

But Nadia was already in her arms, squeezing her, gripping her, two years of pent-up emotions erupting. The anger fled, chased away by a deluge of relief. She shook so much she couldn’t speak. Katya whispered soothing noises while the guard waited patiently. Nadia’s face was wet, like the rain she hadn’t felt in two years. She gathered herself, knowing this visit would be kept short. She wiped her eyes and cheeks, and spoke to her sister urgently, taking in every line of her face, details she might have to remember and savour for another two years.

‘How long can you stay?’ Nadia asked. ‘How long have we got?’

Katya bit her lip then pulled Nadia’s face tight to her chest, struggling to get the words out. ‘Time to come home, my Cossack,’ she said.

Nadia’s legs gave way.

 About the Author: 


In his day job, J. F. Kirwan travels worldwide, working on aviation safety. He lives in Paris, where he first joined a fiction class – and became hooked! So when a back injury stopped him scuba diving for two years, he wrote a thriller about a young Russian woman, Nadia, where a lot of the action occurred in dangerously deep waters. It was the only way he could carry on diving! But as the story and characters grew, he realised it was not one book, but three… 

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Blog Tour: Excerpt from If There’s No Tomorrow by Jennifer Armentrout

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I’m thrilled to welcome you to my first of two stops on the blog tour for If There’s No Tomorrow. Today I have an excerpt to share but next month I’ll be back with a review as well. Make sure to check out TLC Book Tours for the rest of the tour schedule where you can find a mix of other excerpts and reviews! 


Goodreads|Amazon|Barnes and Noble

Release date: September 5, 2017

Publisher: Harlequin Teen

Genre: YA

Blurb:

Lena Wise is always looking forward to tomorrow, especially at the start of her senior year. She’s ready to pack in as much friend time as possible, to finish college applications, and to maybe let her childhood best friend Sebastian know how she really feels about him. For Lena, the upcoming year is going to be epic—one of opportunities and chances.


Until one choice, one moment, destroys everything.


Now Lena isn’t looking forward to tomorrow. Not when friend time may never be the same. Not when college applications feel all but impossible. Not when Sebastian might never forgive her for what happened.


For what she let happen.


With the guilt growing each day, Lena knows that her only hope is to move on. But how can she move on when she and her friends’ entire existences have been redefined? How can she move on when tomorrow isn’t even guaranteed?

Excerpt:

Chapter 9: Middle to End

My face caught aflame as I balled my hands into fists.

“Yeah, neither of you have a clue,” Abbi shot back.

Keith’s dark brows flew up. “Oh baby, I would get down on my knees right here and now if you’d let me prove to you just how good I am at getting girls—”

“That’s all I need to hear to know you have no idea what you’re doing.” Abbi raised her hand, silencing him. “If you did, you wouldn’t have to announce it.”

“She has a point,” Sebastian commented.

Keith laughed as he reached out, yanking on Abbi’s pigtail. “I can totally prove you wrong. Give me five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” She snorted.

Snatching the towel out of Sebastian’s hands, I shoved past him and walked over to where the patio led to the pool house and the horseshoe pit to avoid doing something like, say, punching him in the throat.

“That was kind of stupid, wasn’t it?”

I twisted around and saw Cody standing there, a bottle in his hand. Why couldn’t I just hide in my corner and marinate in my foolishness alone? Was that too much to ask?

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“You look pretty pissed over it,” he commented.

I took a deep breath and lifted my gaze. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very observant?”

He laughed softly, raising the bottle. “Hey, I’m not the one who threw you into the pool like a basketball.”

Wrapping the towel around my shoulders, I mentally counted to ten. Cody hadn’t done anything wrong. “So, what are you up to?”

“Nothing really.” He took a swig from the bottle. “Trying to decide if I feel up to staying here or heading elsewhere.”

While I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, I wasn’t doing anything else. Abbi was still arguing with Keith, and Sebastian was with Phillip and Megan, by the lounge chairs. “What else do you have planned?”

“No idea. Just not really feeling it today, you know?” Crossing his legs at the ankles, he leaned against the side of the pool house, looking out toward the pool. “You’re missing a friend, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “Dary. She’s doing the family thing in D.C.”

“Sounds like fun.” He didn’t sound like he believed that. “How late are you planning to be here?”

Dusk was settling so I knew it had to be past eight. I’d already stayed later than I anticipated. “Not much longer.” I pretty much just wanted to go home and eat the Pop Tarts Mom had picked up.

“You’re obviously not feeling it either.” He shifted his body toward mine. “We could steal Sebastian’s keys and go for a ride.”

I swallowed my snort. “Yeah, I don’t think that would be wise.”

“What?” A playful grin tugged at his lips. “It would fun.”

“Uh-huh.” I kicked off my flip flops, hoping the stone walkway was baked with enough heat they’d dry. “First off, pretty sure you’re not going to be able to steal the keys that are currently in the pocket of his shorts.”

“You have such little faith in me,” he replied. “I have sneaky fingers.”

“I’m sure you do, but since I’ve heard you’re back with Jessica, I seriously doubt she will be happy to hear that we stole Sebastian’s car together,” I told him. “And I really don’t want that kind of drama.”

“Damn, news travels fast, huh?” Cody shook his head. “Jessica can be… feisty.”

“That is a really tame description of Jessica,” I said, laughing a little. “Not trying to be mean or anything.”

“Nah, I get you.” He nudged my arm slightly. “We’re about to get company.”

I didn’t get a chance to look behind me.

“Hey.” Sebastian said from behind me. “Am I interrupting something?”

Tensing, I refused to let myself turn around and look at him. “Cody and I are talking.”

“I can see that.” Sebastian moved to stand beside me, so close I could feel the warmth radiating off his body. “About what?”

“We were plotting nefarious things,” Cody answered.

Sebastian snickered. “Do you even know what nefarious means?”

“Damn, Seb.” Cody coughed out a laugh. Stepping to the side, he tipped his bottle at me. “Have fun with all of that.” He then pointed at Sebastian with the mouth of the bottle. He grinned. “Good to hear you got extra practice tomorrow with the coach. You’ve been gone all month. Don’t want to be holding the team back.”

“You don’t have to worry about me holding anyone back,” Sebastian replied.

“Sure, sure,” Cody said as he pivoted and walked away.

I glanced at Sebastian. “That was kind of rude, don’t you think?”

“Not really. Figured I’d come over here and save you from being stuck in a conversation with him.”

“I don’t recall sending up an SOS signal.”

“Wow.” He stepped in front of me just as the twinkling lights strung along the trees turned on. His brows were furrowed together. “That was a little—”

“I’d proceed with caution with what you’re about to say,” I warned, staring up at him. “Choose your words wisely.”

He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. Turning sideways, he whipped off his baseball cap and thrust his fingers through his hair before he pulled the hat back on. “Are you ticked off because I interrupted you guys?”

Oh. Yeah. That was the reason. I could feel my cheeks heating up, and I was grateful that the outdoor lights weren’t that bright. Frustration swept over my skin like an army of fire ants. “Whatever.”

“Wait.” He laughed, but that sound was hoarse. “Are you, like, interested in Cody?”

“What?”

“Are you into Cody?” he repeated.

I tugged the towel closer. I could not have heard him correctly. I’d just kissed him and he was asking me this? “Why would it matter if I was?”

He looked like I admitted to dropping out of school to pursue a career as a professional street performer. “Cody is a player, Lena. He’s been with half the school. He’s back with—”

“I know what he is, but what I don’t know is why you care,” I shot back, struggling to keep my voice low.

Sebastian stared down at me, disbelief etched into his face. “You’ve never been interested in him. Ever. And now you are?”

Okay, so I wasn’t interested in Cody whatsoever, but this conversation was ridiculous. “Why are we talking about this? Weren’t you hanging all over Skylar last night?”

Sebastian’s chin jerked to the side. “What does that have to do with the conversation we’re having?”

The breath I took scorched a hole into my chest, and I could taste the metallic bitterness and rancid jealousy, feelings that had existed beneath the surface for far too long. Feelings I’d hidden and pretended didn’t exist for years. But now it was like I was stripped bare, my skin flayed open, and there was just no more hiding.

He rubbed his palm across his chest, right above his heart. “I actually cannot believe we’re having this conversation.”

I jolted. “You can’t believe we’re having this conversation? You started it and, you know what, I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m mad at you.”

“Mad at me?” His brows flew up. “About what?”

Dropping the towel, I looked down at myself pointedly. A small puddle of water had formed under me. I knew in the back of my head, that being pissed at him for throwing me into the pool had nothing to do with the actual act. Hell, he’d done that before. I’d actually pushed him into Keith’s pool a few times. But I wanted to be mad, because being mad was better than embarrassed and hurt and disappointed.

“You’re seriously mad at me for that?” He stepped back. “What the hell? Are you—?”

“I kissed you!” The moment I said those words, a knot formed in the back of my throat.

His jaw tightened as he lowered his head toward mine. “What?”

“I kissed you on Tuesday, and I… I didn’t mean to. It happened and before—before I could say anything, you practically ran away. And I thought you were going to kiss me when you threw me in the pool,” I said, breathing heavy and feeling a little sick. “That’s what I thought you were doing.”

In the failing light, his eyes looked like the ocean at night, a dark and deep endless blue. “Lena, I thought—”

“Sebastian!”

He jerked back at the sound of Skylar’s voice and then he looked over his shoulder, chest rising and falling deeply.

Oh for crap’s sake…

She was coming down the walkway, clad in a strapless dress that skimmed the top of her thighs. She was walking so fast her hair lifted off her shoulders. It looked like she was prowling down a runway. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Pressing my lips together, I fought the urge to point out that we weren’t exactly hidden and not hard to find, so she seriously didn’t need to look everywhere.

Skylar had that Miss America smile on her face as she walked up to us. She placed her hand on Sebastian’s arm, and I focused on the ground. “Can we talk for a second?” she asked.

I briefly squeezed my eyes shut, knowing he was going to say yes, and it was time for me to end this conversation before any more serious damage was done. I shoved my feet into my flip flops. “I’ve got to go over… there.”

Sebastian turned to me. “Lena—”

“See you in a bit,” I cut in, forcing a smile at Skylar.

She smiled back, and I think she said something, but I didn’t hear her over the roaring in my ears as I hurried back toward the pool, immediately tracking down Abbi.

“You okay?” She was sitting on the edge of a lounge chair. Keith was leaning back in it, and at some point he must’ve decided the speedos had to go, since he was now wearing shorts and a tee shirt. It was a definite improvement.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Totally fine.”

She looked doubtful as she glanced back toward the pool house. She opened her mouth, but I cut her off. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She patted the space next to her. “Sit with me.”

I sat on the edge of the chair, with my back to the pool house, and I didn’t look over my shoulder. Not once. And as I sat there, listening to Keith and Abbi attempt to out-snark each other, I told myself that everything that happened with Sebastian wouldn’t matter. Tonight sucked. But tomorrow would be a better day.

Tomorrow had to be.

About the Author:


# 1 NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout lives in West Virginia.


When she’s not hard at work writing, she spends her time, reading, working out, watching zombie movies, and pretending to write. She shares her home with her husband, his K-9 partner named Diesel and her hyper Jack Russell Loki. Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent her time writing short stories, therefore explaining her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes Young Adult Contemporary, Urban Fantasy/Paranormal and Romance. She writes New Adult and Adult romance under the pen name J.Lynn.


She is the author of the Covenant Series (Spencer Hill Press) the Lux Series (Entangled Teen) and the upcoming YA Don’t Look Back (2014) and untitled YA (Fall 2014) from Disney/Hyperion. She is also published with Harlequin Teen and HarperCollins.

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Blog Tour: Lie to Me by J. T. Ellison @thrillerchick

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Goodreads|Amazon
Release date: September 5, 2017

Publisher: MIRA

Genre: Psychological Thriller 

Blurb: 

Domestic noir at its best. Readers will devour this stunning page-turner about the disintegration of a marriage as grief, jealousy, betrayal and murder destroy the facade of the perfect literary couple. New York Times bestselling author J.T. Ellison takes her exceptional writing to a new level with this breakout novel. 


They built a life on lies 


Sutton and Ethan Montclair’s idyllic life is not as it appears. They seem made for each other, but the truth is ugly. Consumed by professional and personal betrayals and financial woes, the two both love and hate each other. As tensions mount, Sutton disappears, leaving behind a note saying not to look for her.


Ethan finds himself the target of vicious gossip as friends, family and the media speculate on what really happened to Sutton Montclair. As the police investigate, the lies the couple have been spinning for years quickly unravel. Is Ethan a killer? Is he being set up? Did Sutton hate him enough to kill the child she never wanted and then herself? The path to the answers is full of twists that will leave the reader breathless.

I’m so excited to be kicking off the excerpt tour for Lie to Me! This tour will have excerpts in consecutive order, the entire schedule will be at the end of the post if you want to follow along. 

Excerpt: 

Something’s Missing


Franklin, Tennessee

Now


Ethan found the note ten minutes after he rolled out of bed that Tuesday, the Tuesday that would change everything. He came downstairs yawning, scratching his chest, to…nothing. Empty space, devoid of wife.

Sutton always began her morning at the table with a bowl of cereal, a piece of fruit, and a cup of tea and read the paper, scoffing at the innumerable typos—the paper was going under, paying for decent copyediting was the least of their worries. A bowl full of cereal, a glass of milk and a spoon would be laid out for him, the sports page folded neatly by his seat. Always. Always.

But this morning, there was no evidence Sutton had been in the kitchen. No newspaper, no bowl. No wife.

He called for her. There was no answer. He searched through the house. Her bag was in her office, her cellphone, her laptop. Her license was stashed in her small wallet, all her credit cards present and accounted for, a twenty folded in half shoved behind them.

She must have gone for a run.

He felt a spark of pleasure at the thought. Sutton, once, had been a health nut. She’d run or walked or done yoga every day, something physical, something to keep her body moving and in shape. And what a shape—the woman was a knockout, willowy and lithe, strong legs and delicate ankles, tendons tight and gleaming like a thoroughbred. A body she sculpted to match his own, to fit with him.

Ethan Montclair couldn’t have a dog for a wife, no. He needed someone he could trot out at cocktail parties who looked smashing in a little black dress. And not only looked good, but sounded good. He needed a partner on all levels—physical and intellectual. Maybe it was shallow of him, but he was a good looking man, drew a lot of attention, and not only did he want his wife to be stunning, he wanted her to be smart, too. And Sutton fit the bill.

He knew they made a powerful, attractive couple. Looks and brains and success, so much success. That was their thing.

After Dashiell, she’d bounced back into shape like the champion racehorse she was, though later, when their world collapsed, she’d become tired and bloated and swollen with medications and depression, and she no longer took any interest in being beautiful and fit.

That she’d decided to start running again gave him hope. So much hope.

Spirits lifted, he went back to the sunny, happy kitchen and got his own bowl, his own milk. Made a pot of tea, whistling. Went for the stevia—no sugar for the health-conscious Montclairs, no, never.

That was when he saw it. Small. White. Lined. Torn from a spiral bound notebook, a Clairefontaine, Sutton’s favorite for the smooth, lovely paper.

This…thing…was incongruous with the rest of their spotless kitchen. Sutton was above all things a pathological neatnik. She’d never just leave something lying about.

All the happiness fled. He knew. He just knew. He’d been all wrong. She hadn’t gone running.

He picked up the note.

 

Dear Ethan,

I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need some time away. I’ve been unhappy, you know that. This shouldn’t come as a big surprise. Forgive me for being a coward. Forgive me, for so many things.

Don’t look for me.

 

S

She was gone.

He felt something squeezing in his chest, a pain of sorts, and realized that his heart had just broken. He’d always thought that a stupid, silly term, but now he knew. It could happen, it was happening. He was being torn in two, torn to shreds. No wonder there were rites warning against this—What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.

God was ripping him apart in punishment, and he deserved it. He deserved it all.

He didn’t cry. There were no tears left for either of them to shed.

He put the note down carefully, as if it were a bomb that might go off with the wrong touch. Went to their bedroom. Nothing seemed out of place. Her brush, her makeup case, her toothbrush, all lined up carefully on the marble. Her suitcase was in the closet.

He went back downstairs to her office, at the back of the house. Doubled checked.

Her laptop was on her desk.

Her cellphone was in the charger.

Her purse was on the floor next to her chair.

Her wallet inside, the smiling DMV photo that made her look like a model.

Like a zombie, he moved back to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and got out the milk. Poured cereal in the bowl. Dropped the stevia into his tea. Sat at the empty table, stared at the spot where his wife’s head should have been.

What was he supposed to do now? Where could she be? He ran through the possibilities, the places she loved, discarding one after another. Surely he was wrong in his thinking. Surely she’d simply run away, to one of her friends. That’s where she’d gone. Should he call Ivy and see if Sutton was camped in her kitchen, instead of his? Should he give her some time, and space, like she asked?

She left without her things, Ethan. Sutton’s lifelines are her laptop and phone. It’s her office, her world.

A dawning realization. Sutton hadn’t shaken the depression, not completely. She was still prone to fits of melancholy. She might have done something stupid, crazy. She’d tried once before, after…Oh, God. Her words. Perhaps she was telling him exactly what she’d done.

I’m a coward. Forgive me. Don’t look for me.

He threw the bowl of cereal across the room.

“Bloody fucking hell. You selfish, heartless bitch.”

Ahh doesn’t that pique your interest?! I’ll have a review when it’s my turn on that portion of the tour in a few weeks. 

About the Author: 


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author J.T. Ellison writes standalone domestic noir and psychological thriller series, the latter starring Nashville Homicide Lt. Taylor Jackson and medical examiner Dr. Samantha Owens, and pens the international thriller series “A Brit in the FBI” with #1 New York Times bestselling author Catherine Coulter. Cohost of the Emmy Award-winning show, A Word on Words, Ellison lives in Nashville with her husband.

Website|Facebook|Twitter
Here’s the excerpt schedule: 

Monday, August 21st: Novel Gossip


Tuesday, August 22nd: Jathan and Heather


Wednesday, August 23rd: The Book Diva’s Reads


Thursday, August 24th: Broken Teepee


Friday, August 25th: No More Grumpy Bookseller


Monday, August 28th: Books and Spoons


Tuesday, August 29th: Lesa’s Book Critiques


Wednesday, August 30th: Bewitched Bookworms


Thursday, August 31st: Books a la Mode


Friday, September 1st: Moonlight Rendezvous

Thanks to Lisa at TLC Book Tours for having me! 


Blog Tour: Seven Hours Challenge Accepted by Angelina Kerner @AuthorAimeeB

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Title: Seven Hours Challenge Accepted
Author: Angelina Kerner
Genre: Women’s Fiction
Release Date: July 31st, 2016
Tour Dates: July 31st – August 6th, 2017

One pill every 7 hours. That could be all it takes to give Chanel the chance to finally see the world around her.

Chanel is an independent 19-year-old, despite what her overprotective mother and senator father may think. Being the daughter of a Senator comes with its own problems, one simple afternoon out with friends becomes overwhelming when they’re swarmed by reporters.

Keeping the secret of the experimental treatment close to her chest, she is able to fool everyone but her hawkeyed bodyguard, Leon, that has now been assigned to protect her.

Chanel doesn’t want a bodyguard, but will she get more than she bargained for?

Buy links

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Excerpt:

Seven Hours
Book excerpt 2:
 
“Perfect, ladies. Please, choose your color on the wall behind me,” Janet said and I senses a bright and cheery smile behind her words.
“Chanel, do you want me to choose the color for you?” Brigitte asked as I listened to her high-heeled shoes clicking away across the floor.
“Sure,” I replied as I felt for the chair that Brigitte was nice enough to lead me to.
I pulled out the chair, walked around it, and sat down. I heard someone new enter from a different room and walk just past me, up to Janet. Then they started whispering, not knowing that I could still hear everything that they were saying.
“She is blind,” I heard Janet whisper with deep concern.
“Don’t worry. You help the girl by the wall. I will help the blind girl,” the new lady whispered back.
“How does one help a blind person? Do you just pull her hands into bowls yourself, or do you wait for them to find the bowls? Is it disrespectful to do it yourself?” Janet whispered.
“They had to send me a newbie to my salon,” the lady whispered back angrily. “Go check on that girl, and I’ll take over for you.”
Janet stalked away as the other lady sat down across from me.
“My name is Maria. I will be helping you today. What’s your name?” Maria’s voice softened.
“Chanel,” I replied. I was used to people not knowing how to act around me. I was used to ignoring their stupidity.
“Chanel, can I have your hands? Your fingers need to rest in the bowl so that the nails will soften,” Maria explained politely.
I folded my cane, put it on the table and then gave her my hands.
She took my hands and gently drew them into a bowl.
“Hold it there for a bit,” Maria ordered me.
“Okay,” I conceded.
“Chanel, I found you a color. Orange! It goes with your skirt,” Brigitte informed me in excitement.
“All right,” I responded.  Honestly, though, I had no idea what the color orange looked like.
“It matches perfectly,” Brigitte assured me and I heard her tapping on her cell phone.
“Maria, what time is it?” I inquired, worried that the time was drawing near for me to take my next pill.
“Nearly 4 p.m.,” she replied.
“Please, can you have my nails done before 5 p.m.? I have medication that must be taken by then,” I expressed to her.
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Maria replied then she proceeded to work away quickly at my nails in the allotted time.
During the nail experience, I mainly talked with Maria because Brigitte was busy talking Janet’s head off about her nails, boys, and the movie that we all watched yesterday.
At first, Maria tried to describe the color orange to me but I was not too receptive.  I just couldn’t care about a color that I in no way could fathom.  So she changed the subject to the nice breeze outside. I just listened to her prattle on, at that point. No matter what she had told Janet, she too was a newbie at talking to a blind person.
 
 

Say Hello to author Angelina Kerner!

Angelina Kerner, a Pisces, was born during the Chinese astrological year of the Snake, which she absolutely adores. Angelina loves snakes and was once allowed to feed one a rat. That was an experience of a lifetime.

She moved around during her young years from Novosibirsk to Kaluga in Russia. Finally settling in the San Francisco Bay Area, California, her teenage years were spent dancing in troupes and performing on stage. The dances ranged from waltz to tango, from Jewish to Russian, and finally belly dance. She was accepted into six out of seven universities and decided to stay close to her family. Angelina pursued a psychology degree until she saw graduates working for Starbucks and then decided to pursue another career path in the Department of Social Sciences. The difficult coursework, her job, and finding her life partner inspired her to turn to writing which, at the time, wasn’t so much a hobby as a way to escape daily routine.

She worked on countless stories, never really finishing them, but came to understand that flash fiction wasn’t for her. After finding an online community where she met her best friend, her writing flourished, making publication a possible next step. She is now the author of Deity’s Soulmate, a fantasy novel for 18 and over, and of Seven Hours: Challenge Accepted, a chick-lit novella where the main character is disabled. She aspires to publish her other fantasy and crime fiction works soon. Her next project involves a competition for a beautiful Phoenix. That novel will, hopefully, make its debut in 2018. Angelina currently divides her time between her family, work, writing, and a lot of cats. She is super excited because her son was born in February 2017.

Visit her website at http://www.kernerangelina.com and her blog at http://www.kernerangelina.live

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Pinterest | Goodreads

 

 

Blog Tour: Love at the Italian Lake by Darcie Boleyn @DarcieBoleyn @canelo_co

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Goodreads|Amazon US|Amazon UK

Release date: July 31, 2017

Publisher: Canelo

Genre: Romance

Blurb:

On the shores of Lake Garda, a beautiful romance unfolds. But is it only for summer? Don’t miss this gorgeous, heart-warming novel from Darcie Boleyn, bestselling author of 2017 smash-hit Summer at Conwenna Cove.

Sophia Bertoni discovers her boyfriend in bed with another woman, and realizes her life is going nowhere. Leaving her high-pressure job, she travels to Italy to stay with her grandmother while she figures out her next move.

When Sophia – quite literally – bumps into devastatingly handsome Joe Lancaster her plans are turned upside down. As the two realize they’re both spending the summer in the same town, a love affair seems on the cards.

But Sophia and Joe are both burdened by family secrets. Despite their attraction, will the sun set on Sophia and Joe’s romance – or will they find love at the Italian lake?

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for Love at the Italian Lake. I have an extract to share today.

Extract:

Chapter 1
Sophia Bertoni let herself into her apartment then picked up the post from the hall table and began leafing through it. Lee must have collected it from their mailbox in the lobby; at least that meant he’d done something today.  
There were a few credit card statements, but nothing interesting. There were always more bills to pay but that was the downside of her chosen lifestyle. She sighed. For a short while, when she was at work, she was able to forget how empty her life sometimes seemed, but as soon as she arrived at the luxury apartment she shared with Lee, her misgivings loomed like grey clouds. Particularly after the day from hell that she’d just had.
But a hot bath and at least five hours’ sleep would help. Seeing as how she’d got home before nine, she might even get more than six hours in bed.
All she wanted to do was kick off her shoes, soak in some jasmine-scented bubbles, crawl under the Egyptian cotton duvet cover, then sleep.
She’d tried to explain how exhausting and unfulfilling her job was to Lee on numerous occasions, but he’d looked at her as if she was mad for questioning their main source of income, then followed up with, ‘Did you pick up milk on the way home?’
Lee: Mr Sensitivity. Not!
They’d been together for three years but sometimes – well, most of the time – Sophia wondered why they stayed together. A mutual acquaintance had introduced them at a cocktail party in the Tower of London, and after too many Espresso Martinis, Sophia had ended up taking Lee back to her apartment. Somehow, he’d never left. The next day, when she’d got home, she’d found him waiting in the lobby with a bag and soon he’d moved all of his belongings in. They hadn’t even had a conversation about it; Lee had just gatecrashed her life. She was so assertive at work, so aloof and focused, but for some reason – possibly the fact that it was nice to have another human being in her home – she’d allowed him to assume the role of boyfriend.
And so it had been for three years. If she started to question why they’d stayed together, she supposed it could be attributed to habit, apathy and, possibly, a lack of belief that another relationship would be any better and that the grass was not, in fact, greener elsewhere.
Sophia shook her head. She’d been far too busy proving herself within a male-dominated environment at work to give her relationship much thought, and whenever doubts about Lee did creep in, she pushed them away for a day when she was less tired, less busy, less…  
What was that?
She’d heard a noise from their bedroom. It sounded like a groan, as if someone was in pain. Her heart fluttered.
‘Yes… just like that… yes, more…’
That didn’t sound like it hurt! And who was that? Her brain frantically tried to place the voice. Was it Ben, the twenty-four-hour concierge, come to deliver a package that Lee couldn’t be bothered to carry up to their apartment? Even though there was a lift. Besides, that would mean that Ben had beaten her from the lobby and she doubted he could have run up seventeen flights of stairs.
Was it Lee’s sister come round to try to bully him into attending some family function that he’d conveniently tried to forget about?
Why would she be in my bedroom?
Then who…