Tag Archives: Blog Tour

Blog Tour: ‘Station Fosaan’ by Dee Garretson

StationFosaan

I’m thrilled to share with you all today, Station Fosaan (Book #1 of the Torch World series) by Dee Garretson. This exciting book is best described as Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan meets Jules Verne’s The Lost World. I have an excerpt for you to read and a chance to win all sorts of book swag AND a paperback copy of the book!

station fosaan

 

Station Fosaan

Publication Date: February 14th, 2017

Genre: YA Sci-Fi/ Space Opera/ Post-Apocalypse

 

 

Scientists and their families stationed on the remote planet of Fosaan were promised a tropical vacation-like experience. But Fosaan, devastated from an apocalyptic event nearly 300 years ago, is full of lethal predators and dangerous terrain. Earthers are forbidden to go beyond the safety zone of their settlement and must not engage the remaining reclusive Fosaanians, native to the planet. 16-year-old Quinn Neen is about to do both of those things.

During an unsanctioned exploration of the planet, Quinn discovers a Fosaanian girl named Mira stealing food from his family’s living unit. But before he can convince her to show him around, scientists are taken captive, leaving Quinn and the other young Earthers at the mercy of space raiders.

Quinn must go from renegade to leader and convince Mira to become an ally in a fight against an enemy whose very existence threatens their lives and the future of Earthers stuck on Fosaan and at home.

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Excerpt

I turned to go back when a flash of white caught my eye. Startled, I dropped the stick and then tripped over it. A girl, a Fosaanian girl, stood clutching a wafer loaf to her chest, a cloud of long shimmery white hair quivering. In fact, all of her was shivering. She was soaked, water dripping off her. I could see her wet footprints all over the kitchen. Her silvery eyes held mine and I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I wasn’t usually so speechless around girls with incredible eyes, but I’d never encountered one I didn’t know in my own quarters.

“What are you doing?” I finally managed to croak, even though it was obvious she was taking the loaf, or more accurately, stealing the loaf. Fosaanians never came out onto the Earthers’ floating compound.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said, putting the loaf back on counter and edging to the door.

“No, wait!” I didn’t mean to shout, but my words came out too loud. The girl froze like I had issued an order, though I could tell she was ready to bolt. “It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, if you’re hungry, take it.” Picking the loaf up, I held it out to her, hoping it would convince her to stay for a little while. She would be the first Fosaanian I had talked to, if I could get her to talk. The small population of Fosaanians, the descendants of the few who had survived the planetary apocalypse, kept away from all of us Earthers, except for the ones who worked at the supply depot or who delivered the iridium sulfide. None of those could be called the least bit friendly.

She didn’t take the loaf, but she didn’t run either. Instead, she stood there looking around the room, clearly curious.

“I have an even better idea,” I said, trying to come up with one. “How about I fix us both something to eat? I’m hungry too.”

Amazon| Barnes & Nobel| IndieBound

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Station Fosaan giveaway

For your chance to win a paperback copy of Station Fosaan and all the cool swag shown above, click the link below!

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I write, and read, and then write some more. I live in Ohio with my husband, two children and two cats in a cluttered house surrounded by semi-wild gardens.

I grew up in Mt. Pleasant, a small town in Iowa, spending my time outside playing in the woods, or helping my father build his offbeat inventions, and writing stories. When it came time to decide on a college, I thought I would try out city life for a change, and so I moved to Massachusetts to attend Tufts University, where I obtained a degree in International Relations.

Degree in hand, I quickly realized I was not meant to work inside in an office, and because I had become obsessed with plants, I decided to get a degree in Landscape Horticulture, as a way to get back outside. I worked as a landscape designer and taught landscape horticulture classes for several years before returning to writing.

Dee Garretson

Twitter: @deegarretson

Facebook: @DeeGarretsonBooks

Instagram: @deegarretsonauthor

StationFosaan

Blog Tour Schedule

August 12th

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

The Magic of Wor(l)ds (Spotlight) http://themagicofworlds.wordpress.com

The Caffeinated Reader (Review) https://www.thecaffeinatedreader.com

August 13th

Jessica Belmont (Review) https://jessicabelmont.wordpress.com/

The Bookworm Drinketh (Review) http://thebookwormdrinketh.wordpress.com/

Breakeven Books (Spotlight) https://breakevenbooks.com

August 14th

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com/

Reading Nook (Spotlight) https://readingnook84.wordpress.com

Tsarina Press (Review) https://www.tsarinapress.com

August 15th

The Faerie Review (Review) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

J Bronder Book Reviews (Review) https://jbronderbookreviews.com/

August 16th

On the Shelf Reviews (Review) https://ontheshelfreviews.wordpress.com

Blog Tour Organized By:

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Blog Tour: ‘The Great Jewel Robbery’ by Elizabeth McKenna

THE GREAT JEWEL ROBBERY
by Elizabeth McKenna
* Cozy Mystery *

Title: THE GREAT JEWEL ROBBERY
Author: Elizabeth McKenna
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 210
Genre: Cozy Mystery
**********
 
Mystery with a splash of romance…
Chicago Tribune reporters Emma and Grace have been best friends since college despite coming from different worlds. When Grace is assigned to cover an annual charity ball and auction being held at a lakeside mansion and her boyfriend bails on her, she brings Emma as her plus one. The night is going smoothly until Emma finds the host’s brother unconscious in the study. Though at first it is thought he was tipsy and stumbled, it soon becomes clear more is afoot, as the wall safe is empty and a three-million-dollar diamond necklace is missing. With visions of becoming ace investigative journalists, Emma and Grace set out to solve the mystery, much to the chagrin of the handsome local detective.
______________________

The handsome stranger held the mini-mart door open for me, and I gazed up into twinkling, meadow-green eyes. I kid you not. I had read about twinkling eyes in more than one romance book, but this was the first time I’d seen them live and in action. He was dressed for an early-September day on the lake with plaid swim shorts to his knees and a white T-shirt hanging around his neck. My eyes shifted to the “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service” sign that was displayed prominently in the gas station’s window. I checked his feet. At least he was wearing sandals.

I must have been staring too long because Grace pushed me from behind. The bare skin of my shoulder inadvertently brushed across his well-defined, caramel-colored chest and something akin to a spark sent heat rippling down my arm. When a curve of his lips revealed straight, white teeth perfect for biting things, I mumbled an apology and hurried to the snack aisle.

“Hi, Tom,” he called out to the cashier, confirming that he was a local. “I’m on pump six, but I need to grab a few things.”

Tom nodded. “No problem, dude. Take your time.”

“What type of chips should we get?” Grace asked, bringing my attention to more pressing matters than my tingling skin.

We had stopped for snacks on our way to the Twelve Gables Bed & Breakfast to avoid paying minibar prices. Grace was covering a charity ball being held at the Brauns’ lakeside mansion in Fontana, Wisconsin, for the Chicago Tribune, and I was her plus one. Besides the black-tie affair tonight, guests could spend Saturday through Monday relaxing by the pool or boating on the lake. It had sounded like a cushy assignment to me, but to Grace, it was another perfect example of how people used her connections to get what they wanted.

Having grown up with the fashionable people her editor wanted to feature, she was stuck on the Life & Style desk, though she yearned to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative article on some injustice in the world. Since Edward and Ivy Braun were family friends of Grace’s, this weekend’s assignment immediately went to her. She hated using friendships in this way, but she couldn’t refuse her editor if she wanted to keep her job.

“Maybe Chex Mix and Doritos? You choose.” I already had spied a lone glazed donut in the bakery case next to the register, and I was an enthusiast when it came to sugary confections.

I wandered through the other aisles while I waited for her to decide on a snack. Grace didn’t eat junk food often, so what to get was a serious decision worth slow and thoughtful deliberation. Based on her furrowed brow, we would be here for a while.

Mr. Green Eyes plopped three bottles of water and a Gatorade on the counter. “Gimme that donut too, please.”

I stopped so abruptly that my left ankle gave out, and I had to grab the metal handle of a nearby drink cooler to steady myself. I limped over to Grace. “That guy is buying my donut!”

She blinked her eyes slowly at me. “Your donut? Don’t they have more than one?”

“Probably not.” Yes, I was being petty. It was only a donut, but once I committed to sugar, I liked to follow through.

“Just pick out something else.” She pointed to a pack of chocolate chip cookies with an expiration date two years in the future. “Get those.”

My nose scrunched in revulsion. “I’d rather eat sawdust. The taste would be the same but with fewer calories.”

“Emma,” she said in her best schoolmarm voice. “You realize that Chef Porter will be laying out a whole table of luscious desserts for us to gorge ourselves on tonight?”

I did, but I didn’t know how to tell Grace that sometimes the frou-frou desserts of her people turned me off. Sometimes a girl just wanted a glazed donut. It was safe and comforting, and right now, I needed all the comfort I could get.

We had met freshmen year at Northwestern University in Journalism 101 and became instant friends despite being from different worlds. I was on a financial-need scholarship. Her father had a building on campus named after him. I was so nervous that I had forgotten a pencil. She had ten and gave me two “in case one broke.” We’ve been inseparable ever since, always living together and now working as reporters at the Tribune. She was like the sister I never had but without all the petty fighting.

She finally chose some corn chips and sashayed to the checkout.

“Excuse me,” I said to the cashier. “Do you have more donuts? Preferably glazed.”

The cashier’s bored eyes shifted to the bakery case and then to me. “Nope.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you have more in the back somewhere?”

“Ryan got the last one. Maybe if you hurry, you can buy it from him.”

Grace snickered beside me.

I pulled the bag of chips out of her hands and slid it across the counter. “We’ll just take this.”

By the time we got outside, Ryan, a.k.a. The Green-Eyed Donut Thief, was gone.

 

Elizabeth McKenna’s love of books reaches back to her childhood, where her tastes ranged from Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys to Stephen King’s horror stories. She had never read a romance novel until one Christmas when her sister gave her the latest bestseller by Nora Roberts. She was hooked from page one (actually, she admits it was the first love scene). She combined her love of history, romance, and a happy ending to write Cera’s Place and Venice in the Moonlight. Her contemporary romance novel, First Crush Last Love, is loosely based on her life during her teens and twenties. The Great Jewel Robbery is her debut cozy mystery, and she hopes readers will like it as much as they have enjoyed her romances.Elizabeth lives in Wisconsin with her understanding husband, two beautiful daughters, and a sassy Labrador. When she isn’t writing, working, or being a mom, she’s sleeping.

Elizabeth loves to connect with readers!

Website: http://elizabethmckenna.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElizabethMcKennaAuthor

Twitter: @ElizaMcKenna

Instagram: @elizabeth_mckenna_author

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Elizabeth_McKenna

 
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Blog Tour: ‘By The Light of Embers’ by Shaylin Gandhi

BY THE LIGHT OF EMBERS 
by Shaylin Gandhi
* Fiction *

Title: BY THE LIGHT OF EMBERS
Author: Shaylin Gandhi
Publisher: Briar Rose Publishing
Pages: 382
Genre: Historical Women’s Fiction
 

It’s 1954, and twenty-two-year-old Lucia Lafleur has always dreamed of following in her father’s footsteps. While sock hops and poodle skirts occupy her classmates, she dreams of bacteria and broken bones—and the day she’ll finally fix them.After graduation, a letter arrives, and Lucia reads the words she’s labored a lifetime to earn—”we are pleased to offer you a position at the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine.” But in the midst of her triumph, her fiancé delivers a crushing ultimatum: forego medical school, or forego marriage.

With fractured hopes, she returns home to Louisiana, expecting nothing of the summer of ’54 but sweet tea and gumbo while she agonizes over her impending choice. There, she unexpectedly befriends Nicholas, a dark-skinned poet whose dignity and intellect are a salve to her aching heart. Their bond, initially forged from a shared love of literature, soon blossoms into something as bewitching as it is forbidden.

Yet her predicament deepens when a trivial misunderstanding between a local white woman and a black man results in a brutal lynching, and the peril of love across the color lines becomes chillingly real. Now, fulfilling her lifelong dream means relinquishing her heart—and escaping Louisiana alive.

 

 

Praise for By the Light of Embers!

“Gandhi’s passion and creativity spill forth onto every page of this book, creating a truly magnificent and brave narrative.” — Entrada Publishing

“I genuinely don’t know any other way to describe this book than to say it’s beautiful.” – Lacie, Amazon Reviewer

“There are also books that you want to keep reading no matter how painful or heartbreaking or just downright unfair the endings are…because life’s got those moments and Shaylin Gandhi brings them out so well in her characters that you cannot help but grab that box of tissues and still smile in between scenes.” – Dora, Amazon Reviewer

“Beautifully atmospheric, you’ll cry your heart out…” – Kay Smillie, Amazon Reviewer


https://amzn.to/2Z8tGOD
______________________

Bellefontaine, Louisiana, 1945

 

It was the first dead body I’d ever seen.

Thick July heat pressed in, sticking my dress to my skin, while steam rose from waters as dark as motor oil.  Cypresses held the sky aloft, and there—in my little haven in the bayou, where the marshy ground turned firm and the old fallen blackgum slowly fell to pieces—lay a man with skin like molasses.  Black eyes stared upward, fixed on eternity.

He shouldn’t be here.  That was my first thought.  Nobody else knew the way into the secret heart of the swamp, through the sucking mud and tangled underbrush.  Yet here he was.

Something squirmed in the shadows of his mouth, and I pressed my hands to my stomach.  If I threw up, Mother would be angry.  I already had mud on my dress, which was bad enough.

Lured by horrified fascination, I stepped closer.  What happened?  Was he murdered?  I couldn’t tell.  The dead man lay so still that he gave the impression of something missing, rather than something there, as if he were nothing but a yawning void or a cicada’s left-behind skin.  Empty.

I knelt.  Up close, his flesh was ruined, his body swollen, his right hand chewed to shreds.  Faint rustling drifted from his mouth—worms definitely wriggled inside.  I leaned in and studied the wreckage of his face.  Something familiar…

I jerked backward, sprawling to the ground.  More mud on my dress.  But it didn’t matter—no, because this dead man was no stranger.  This was Tom Fletcher.

And I hated Tom Fletcher.

True fear fluttered in my belly.  I couldn’t be alone with him, not even if he was dead.  I had to get away, across town to the big house, and tell Etta.

Scrambling back like a spider, I made it halfway to the edge of the clearing before my panic subsided enough for me to think.  Tom was bad, yes.  But Etta was good, with her warm cookies and warmer words.  I didn’t want her to see his vacant face, those eyes full of nothing.

I straightened up, brushed myself off, and tried hard to be brave.  Even so, I stood there a long time.  Closing Tom’s eyes seemed impossible, but for Etta’s sake, I had to.  She shouldn’t remember her husband like this.

I forced my feet to move.

When I got close, Tom’s cold obsidian skin stole the warmth from my fingers.  One eye had retreated into his skull and his lids didn’t fit together right, but when I finished, the blank stare was gone.  He looked more peaceful, somehow.

Then I wiped my hands on my dress, went to the water’s edge, and threw up in the bushes.

*          *          *

“Lucia, child, what’ve you gotten into?  The pigpen?”  Etta Fletcher put big hands on big hips and laughed, her teeth flashing white in her round, dark face.  “I’ll hear your mama cryin’ from here when she sees that dress.”  She clucked her tongue and turned away.

The plantation’s kitchen was the same as ever, with its crackling hearth and billows of sweet steam.  Etta stood at the stove, frying something in a dark iron pan.  Oil popped and sizzled.

“Cinnamon rolls,” she said.

My stomach soured.  For once, I didn’t want sweets.  I just wanted Etta to turn around and listen, and I wanted to be brave enough to tell her.  While I gathered my courage, the kitchen door opened, and Etta’s son strode in, setting a dirty, tool-filled bucket on the spotless floor.

I shrank back.  Nicholas terrified me, just like his father.  He straightened, fixing me with creepy yellow eyes.  At nineteen, he was six years my senior, but might’ve been a hundred for his size.  He was as black as his papa and larger than any grown-up I’d ever seen.

“Ma,” he said.  “What’s she doing here?”

Etta glanced over her shoulder.  “She’s come for a treat.  An’ since she’s mudded her dress, I might take pity and give her two.”

With a wink, she offered a fragrant roll.  It coiled in her hand like a snake, oozing vanilla cream.  From the doorway, Nicholas gave me a look like he’d found a cockroach in his gumbo.

Vomit still coated the back of my throat.  I stared at the pastry as a sticky glob of icing plopped to the floor.  “Tom’s dead,” I said.

Etta’s grin slowly died and her brows drew together.  “What?  My Tom?”

I nodded, wishing Nicholas would disappear instead of staring at me like that.  He made me want to crawl in a hole somewhere.  “I found him in the swamp.  He’s dead.”

Though Nicholas’s expression didn’t change, he quit looking, at least.  His terrible yellow eyes shifted toward his mother.  Etta’s cinnamon roll fell in slow motion, landing topside down and squirting cream across the weathered floorboards.

Silence.  Nicholas caught at his mother’s elbow, but she shook him off.

I wondered why she didn’t cry.  My mother cried over nothing—stained dresses, rain flattening her hair.  But Etta stood straight and wiped her hands on her apron.

“You show us, child,” she said.  “You gone show us.”

 

SHAYLIN GANDHI secretly stole her mother’s copy of Clan of the Cave Bear at age ten, and fell madly in love with love stories. Now, as an author, she still can’t get enough, and the tales she spins all center around affairs of the heart. To her, that’s what makes a story truly worth telling.Besides writing, she tries to stamp her passport at every opportunity. Traveling has been a lifelong passion, and she’s lucky to have done it a lot. Shaylin and her husband once spent an entire summer living in their van while touring the Pacific Northwest, British Columbia, and Alaska. Her most memorable trips often tie in with writing: her books are usually inspired by majestic places that stole her breath.

In addition, Shaylin practices medicine, scuba dives, plays the piano, and once rode her bicycle from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic. She now lives in Denver with her incredible husband, their identical twin daughters, and two adorable rescue dogs. They can usually be found in the mountains, either hiking up or skiing down.

You can find Shaylin online at www.shaylingandhi.com or on Twitter @shaylingandhi. Please get in touch—she would love to hear from you!

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

Website: www.shaylingandhi.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/shaylingandhi

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shaylin.gandhi.71

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shaylingandhi/

 
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Blog Tour: ‘The Costumier’s Gift’ by Vicky Adin

TheCostumier

The Costumier’s Gift

Publication Date: May 24, 2019

Genre: Historical Fiction

Why does a stranger hold the key to unlocking Katie’s family secrets?

1903 – Jane is the talented principal costumier at Auckland’s Opera House in its Edwardian heyday. She thrives in this place where she can hide from her pain and keep her skeletons to herself – until the past comes back to haunt her. Brigid, her beloved foster mother, and her best friend Gwenna are anchors in her solitary yet rewarding life. As the decades go by, the burden of carrying secrets becomes too great, and Jane must pass on the hidden truths.

Today – Katie seeks refuge from her crumbling personal life with her grandmother, who lives in past with the people in her cherished photographs. All too soon, Katie learns she must identify the people behind the gentle smiles – including the Edwardian woman to whom she bears a remarkable resemblance – and reveal generations of secrets before she can claim her inheritance. She meets the intriguing Jared, who stirs her interest, but she’s not ready for any sort of romance, so is shocked when she learns that he holds the key to discovering her past.

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Excerpt

Jane 1903

Jane loved the early mornings, when she could move around her top-floor workshop at the Opera House before anyone else arrived. She would compare progress against the numerous sketches pinned to the walls and inspect the elaborate costumes draping the mannequins. She could touch the rich fabrics laid out on the table ready for cutting and check the accessory trays holding the beads, threads and feathers used to adorn the finished outfits.

But the nights, when she let down her silky dark hair and dressed in her richly coloured and beaded silk wrap – making her feel like one of her exotic characters – was when she did her best work. With pencil in hand she would sketch gown after gown, suit after suit: sometimes total fantasy, sometimes glamorous, sometimes whimsical.

Where the ideas came from even Jane couldn’t explain, and she often had no idea which design would work best for which show, but her pile of drawings had not let her down so far. Somewhere deep inside, she held the dream that one day she might become a famous designer for someone like the House of Worth, but meanwhile Jane couldn’t be happier. On occasions, she even had the temerity to sell a few of the more fashionable designs under the name of Bernadette, and particularly during ball season. A secret she kept to herself.

The dress was one of Jane’s fantasy dresses made of multi-coloured gauzes she’d dyed in shades of deep purple, navy and green decorated with silver sparkles. The facemask and headdress she was working on in the quiet of the empty studio would need to be as elaborate. She’d already hand-dyed heavy stockings to match so the dancer would be head-to-toe in underwater colours as Jane imagined them. Her late-night scribbles came to life when a body filled the contours of the design and Jane’s heart lifted at the sight. The concoction was perfect, if a little large for Grace.

“It’s beautiful,” said Grace as she swished and sashayed and danced about the empty workshop. The girl’s excited laughter echoed through the room. A tingle ran down Jane’s spine. She must not let Grace get too involved with the theatre. This was no place for the girl despite her love of music.

Brigid was teaching the girls to make traditional Irish lace and to sew, and Sally was showing them how run a business. Grace’s and Lilly’s futures lay there. And, now Brigid had finally accepted Phillip Harrison-Browne’s invitation to visit his department store in Brisbane, maybe one of them would find a future over there instead. All these thoughts flashed through Jane’s mind in the split second it took for Grace to leap into the air, spin and crash into a rack of costumes being prepared for the next production. Over it went, dragging costumes on the adjacent rack to the floor as Grace rolled amongst the muddle. Behind, other racks rocked precariously as more costumes on their hangers slid to the floor to add to the jumble.

“Are you all right, Grace?” called Jane as she raced across to where Grace now sat nursing her ankle. Lilly nodded, as a tear slid down her cheek.

“It hurts.”

“Oh, my dear girl. I’m sure it does, my sweet. Now let’s get you out of this mess and I’ll go find something to make a cool compress and see if I can borrow a stick to help you walk.”

Jane reached out her hand to help Grace to her feet and almost dropped the girl. Exposed by the disarray, a pair of men’s boots peeked out from under a mound of fabric. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips. Still supporting Grace, balanced on one foot, Jane peered into the gloomy corner.

Available on Amazon!

About the Author

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Multi-award winning historical fiction author, Vicky Adin is a genealogist in love with history and words.

After decades of research Vicky has combined her skills to weave family stories and history together in a way that brings the past to life.

Fascinated by the 19th Century women who undertook hazardous journeys to find a better life, Vicky draws her characters from real life stories: characters such as Brigid, the Irish lacemaker and Gwenna, the Welsh confectioner, or Megan who discovers much about herself when she traces her family tree in The Cornish Knot.

Vicky Adin holds a MA(Hons) in English and Education. She is an avid reader of historical novels, family sagas and contemporary women’s stories and enjoys travelling. Her writing has been compared to that Catherine Cookson.

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Giveaway!

For your chance to win a print copy of this book, click the link below!

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*Open Internationally

TheCostumier

Blog Tour Schedule

July 8th

Reads & Reels (Excerpt) http://readsandreels@gmail.com

Wrong Side of Forty (Excerpt) https://wrongsideoffortyuk.wordpress.com/

Tsarina Press (Excerpt) https://www.tsarinapress.com

The Hufflepuff Nerdette (Interview) https://thehufflepuffnerdette.wordpress.com

The Faerie Review (Review) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

July 9th

The Magic of Wor(l)ds (Interview) http://themagicofworlds.wordpress.com

July 10th

Books and Stuff (Excerpt) https://booksenstuff.wordpress.com

Reading Nook (Excerpt) https://readingnook84.wordpress.com

July 11th

Kim Knight (Review & Interview) http://kimknightauthor.wordpress.com

B is for Book Review (Interview) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

July 12th

Sophril Reads (Excerpt) http://sophrilreads.wordpress.com

Dash Fan Book Reviews (Review) https://dashfan81.blogspot.com/

Blog Tour Organized By:

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Blog Tour: ‘Walking with Ghosts on Ward’s Pond’ by Heidi Sprouse

WalkingwithGhosts

Ward's Pond front

 

Walking with Ghosts on Ward’s Pond

Genre: Mystery

Expected Publication Date: July

A hundred-year-old unsolved mystery resurfaces when journalist Charlie Baxter becomes consumed with finding out the truth. After discovering his bloodline includes a potential murderer, Charlie sets out to clear his family’s name—only to find that everyone has an opinion, but does anyone have answers?

In 1906, Chester Gillette took Grace Brown on a secret trip in the Adirondacks, but only he returned. Grace and her unborn child drowned in the lake, and Chester was convicted of murder. Now, his distant relative Charlie Baxter is retracing the steps of that fateful trip in hopes of laying it to rest once and for all.

However, a mysterious guest at the bed and breakfast on Ward’s Pond is drawn into the cold case—not by Charlie, but by the ghost of Grace Brown. When Charlie learns that the guest’s name is Katherine Grace Brown, he can’t deny the connection. Despite running from her own past, Katherine agrees to help Charlie in his quest for the truth.

The true tale of the Gillette-Brown murder has been the subject of many a story, and it continues to intrigue. What really happened at that lake? Was Chester Gillette truly guilty of murder, or was he sent to the electric chair innocent? Perhaps with the help of their ghosts, Charlie and Katherine can find out.

 

Available at B & N and on Amazon!

 

Excerpt:

A WOMAN’S SCREAM RIPPED CHARLIE from sleep as dramatically as if he’d been doused in ice water. Heart hammering in his chest, he sprang from his bed and raced to the door as another scream pierced straight through him, coming from the room across the hall. He didn’t know the occupant—the only other guest currently in the bed and breakfast at Ward’s Pond—but the compulsion to help…to do something was too great to be ignored.

“Miss? Miss, are you all right? Can I help you?” He pressed his ear to the wall, hearing nothing more than a muffled sobbing. “I only want to help you and make sure that you’re all right. I’m coming in.”

When no response came, Charlie gathered up his courage and grabbed hold of the knob, taking a quick glance at his clothes. Thankfully, he wore modest pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, nothing that would scandalize anyone. After one hard swallow, he gave the door a try, surprised to find it unlocked. He glanced across the room to see a woman sitting up in bed. The moon cast her in white, making her look ghostly. Her long, dark hair was a wild tangle, the tracks of her tears glistening in the light streaming through the window. She was trembling.

Unwilling to seem too familiar or forward, Charlie pulled up a chair—rather than sitting on the end of the bed. He leaned toward her and propped his elbows on his knees, striving to offer her a calm, reassuring presence when all the while his insides were churning from that terrible screaming.

“Is everything all right? What happened?”

The stranger took a shaky breath and drew the covers up to her chest, her knuckles bulging with the strength of her grip. “I…it was just a nightmare. Foolish, really. I can’t even remember it now…I can only recall waking up feeling absolutely terrified.”

He nodded and then gave her a smile. “I know what that’s like. My name is Charlie Baxter and I’m right across the hall. If you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to give a knock. I sleep light.”

He stood as she extended her hand—which he accepted, giving it a squeeze. His skin practically sizzled at her touch, but he held on. “Thank you, Mr. Baxter. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, I sleep light! I would’ve been up sooner or later anyway, and please, call me Charlie. My father is Mr. Baxter. I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning. Our hostess, Eva, is an amazing cook.” Charlie crossed the room, taking pause at the door to look over his shoulder. “By the way, what’s your name?”

She smiled, and it was like the sun coming out after a storm. “Katherine. Katherine Grace Brown.”

The name, particularly the middle and last, gave him a start, but he covered it well. “Well, Miss Katherine Grace Brown, may the rest of your night hold nothing but sweet dreams.”

As he crossed the hall, the turning of the lock broke the silence. Charlie didn’t think she was locking him out. Katherine was locking herself—and her mysterious nightmares—in.

Unable to sleep, since his mind was already unsettled from his research, Charlie opened the window and took a deep gulp of the refreshing night air. Late May in upstate New York heralded warmer days and the approach of summer, but the nights were still chilly. He left the window open, flicked on his desk lamp, and riffled through his stacks of papers, his hand landing on the picture of Grace Brown. He stared at the image that was already imprinted on his brain. She looks nothing like that girl across the hall. Her name is just a coincidence.

He started taking notes, but still a voice nagged at him at the back of his mind. Is there really any such thing as a coincidence?

 

About the Author

Heidi Sprouse, author of Walking with Ghosts on Ward’s Pond is a resident of historic Johnstown in upstate NY and went to college at St. Rose in Albany.

Heidi started her journey to becoming an author when she was just a child. She would practice creative writing with her friends and continued to write on through college. It wasn’t until her early thirties, after her father passed away, that she began seriously penning words with the intent to write books. As an author, Heidi opens a window into her worlds of sweet romances, historical fiction, and suspense thrillers. She’s always in search of the finding the extraordinary within the ordinary; writing about strong men with old-fashioned values and the women who pick them up when they fall.

When she isn’t writing, she adores spending time with her husband Jim, her son Patrick and her furry canine kids. She also has a rewarding career as a Pre-K teacher.

Heidi has a long list of titles credited to her name. We hope that this month you’ll check out her latest endeavor, Walking with Ghosts on Ward’s Pond available for preorder or for direct purchase on July 2nd.

Heidi Sprouse | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Instagram | Goodreads

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Blog Tour Schedule

July 1st

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

Kim Knight (Interview) http://kimknightauthor.wordpress.com

The Legal Alien (Review) https://thelegalalien.com/

Devouring Books (Review) https://devouringbooks2017.wordpress.com/

July 2nd

Just 4 My Books (Spotlight) http://www.just4mybooks.wordpress.com

The Magic of Wor(l)ds (Spotlight) http://themagicofworlds.wordpress.com

LoopyLouLaura (Review) https://www.loopyloulaura.com/

July 3rd

Breakeven Books (Spotlight) https://breakevenbooks.com

Reviews and Promos by Nyx (Spotlight) https://nyxblogs.wordpress.com/

Triquetra Reviews (Spotlight) http://www.triquetrareviews.blogspot.com

July 4th

Cup of Toast (Interview) https://cupoftoast.co.uk

Reading Nook (Spotlight) https://readingnook84.wordpress.com

July 5th

Jessica Belmont (Review) https://jessicabelmont.wordpress.com/

Port Jerricho (Review) http://www.aislynndmerricksson.com

The Faerie Review (Review) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

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