30 November 2021

Glass Ornament Christmas by Cheryl A. Hunter Blog Tour and Excerpt! @CherylAHunter4 @maryanneyarde @cherylahunter101 @coffeepotbookclub #HistoricalFiction #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub

 


Book Title: Glass Ornament Christmas

Author: Cheryl A. Hunter

Publication Date: 23rd August 2021

Publisher: Grand Owl Publishing

Page Length: 238 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction



Glass Ornament Christmas


This year, Christmastide will be extra special for glass blower Shayla Toselli who lives in Canterbury Corner, England. The town square will have its first electrically lit tree, and she has been commissioned to create delicate glass ornaments for the new Duke’s Christmas Eve ball. One morning, the Duke’s youngest brother, Adam Preston, finds himself in the Toselli glass factory. He is fascinated with glass blowing and with Shayla. The temperature in the workshop heats up in more ways than one as the unlikely pair work together in the days leading up to the ball. This will certainly be a Christmastide to remember.


Available on KindleUnlimited.


Universal Link:  https://bookgoodies.com/a/B09DDFLCSL


Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL 

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL


Available on KindleUnlimited.


Universal Link:  https://bookgoodies.com/a/B09DDFLCSL


Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL 

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Glass-Ornament-Christmas-Cheryl-Hunter-ebook/dp/B09DDFLCSL


Excerpt!


“Hello, Miss Shayla,” Mrs. Stewart, the cook, said.


“Hello. Is my aunt in?”


Graves, the butler, saw Shayla and bowed. “She is. This way please, Miss.” Graves led her to the small front parlor. “Miss Shayla, Madam,” he announced. 


Aunt Margaret looked up from her needlework. “Thank you, Graves.” 


He bowed his way out of the room, and Shayla walked up to her aunt. 


“Shayla, love.” She stood up and hugged her niece. 


“Aunt Margaret, you look well.”


“As do you,” she replied. She indicated Shayla should sit down in the chair beside her. Shayla looked at her aunt’s work. She was stitching an alphabet border, likely something for someone’s new baby. Her aunt was quite skilled with a needle, something Shayla had little patience for. Shayla thought her aunt was the perfect wife. She was pretty, delicate, smart, and she had impeccable manners. Margaret was her mother’s much younger sister, and she was only nine years older than Shayla herself. Margaret loved Shayla very much, but Margaret’s hair was red, like Shayla’s mother, and she had green eyes, also like her mother. Aunt Margaret painfully reminded her of her mother, and she thought that was why she did not spend a great deal of time with her aunt. She shook her head to clear it. “Papa would like you and Uncle James to come to dinner tomorrow evening.” 


“We would love to. What is the occasion?” Aunt Margaret asked without looking up from her work.


“No occasion. Papa invited, Adam Preston, who now works in our shop to dinner.”


Margaret stopped and looked at Shayla. “Adam Preston? Duke Wellshore’s brother?”


Shayla sighed. “Yes, that is the one,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Honestly, why did everyone make such a fuss over the man?


Margaret smiled. “He would be an excellent match for you, Shayla.” She leaned back from her needlework stand.


“No,” Shayla replied a little too quickly. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked at her aunt.


Margaret gave her a small smile. “Why not?”


“I am not interested in marriage. I plan to stay an independent woman.” Shayla sat up straighter. “I do not need a man.”


“Every woman needs a man,” her aunt replied softly.


“I can provide for myself.”


“Financially yes, but men take care of a woman’s other…needs.”


Shayla chose to ignore her aunt’s comment and stood up. “Well, I must get back home. Mrs. Lawry may need my help with dinner.” Not that she usually helped Mrs. Lawry prepare dinner, but she did not want to have this uncomfortable conversation with her aunt. 


Unphased, Aunt Margaret started to stich again. “What dress do you plan to wear?”


“I have not decided. I will find something in my closet no doubt.”


“Um hum.” Aunt Margaret smiled. “Well, dear, I am here if you need help selecting a dress.”


“Thank you.” Shayla bent down and kissed her aunt’s cheek then quickly left the parlor.




Cheryl A. Hunter is an author and artist. Her books span multiple genres including historical fiction, contemporary fiction, paranormal fantasy, and nonfiction. Cheryl is also an artist who works in glass, ink and watercolor, and photography. When she is not writing, taking pictures, or creating glass art, she loves to travel. Her interest in Ancient Greek and Roman cultures has taken her to many Archeological sites and museums in several countries. 

 

Social Media Links:


Website: http://www.cherylahunter.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CherylAHunter4 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CherylAHunter101 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cherylahunter101/ 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/cherylahunterde/_created/ 

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Cheryl-A-Hunter/e/B07K657RKJ

 Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14637046.Cheryl_A_Hunter 


Tour Schedule Page: https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/2021/09/blog-tour-glass-ornament-christmas-by.html




29 November 2021

Kiss of Karma by Louise Lennox Release Blitz!

Keisha didn’t know agreeing to help her friend right a wrong would involve murder, robbery...and Richard, a handsome sheriff who poses a threat to her heart. She doesn’t want to let down her friends, but helping might come with a cost. Readers who love Kennedy Ryan and Nicole Snow will love Kiss of Karma by Louise Lennox, an enemies to lovers, older man, small town romance.

Blurb

The Carolina Lowcountry is sexier, because the beautiful Kiawah Kisses rule the Sea Islands with strength, spice, and sass. This summer and fall, each friend will reconnect with a Gullah hometown hero and learn to love again. This is Keisha’s story…

Keisha Jordan is a good friend and an even better attorney. She will do anything for her tight knit group of girlfriends, the Kiawah Kisses. When her best friend Nicole asks her to help right a wrong committed against her family; she agrees. But, murder, robbery, and a devastatingly handsome older sheriff turn out to be more than she bargained for.

Keisha doesn't want to let the Kisses down; but she's determined to protect her heart.

Richard Grant has served as Kiawah Island’s local sheriff for over twenty years. It’s the family business. His grandfather and father served in the roles before him. The last thing he needs is some nosy attorney and her friends opening old cases and creating a stir around town. If the attorney wasn’t so beautiful he’d gladly escort her out of his town.

But she is… so he lets her be. But what will it cost his family's legacy if she stays?

Kiss of Karma, book 4 in the Kiawah Kisses Series, is a steamy, small town, contemporary romance featuring a strong, smart heroine and the older sexy hometown sheriff who fights for her heart. Download it today and get ready to fall in love with your next favorite book boyfriend.

Add to Goodreads Here!

Buy Now or Read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

Excerpt 

Copyright 2021 Louise Lennox

Big Bess warned the low country casts spells at night. 

Under Kiawah’s muggy moon, mosquitos bite, moss sighs, and men lie. I thought she was trying to keep us out of the swamps at night. Symone, Nicole, Tara, and I were twelve and relentless in our pursuit of adventure. Now, eighteen years later, I know exactly what she meant. For example, it doesn’t take Big Bess’s beloved juju to understand why this police officer stopped me. This is about more than a speeding violation. Everyone zips down Kiawah Coastal Highway. Fast is the only appropriate way to drive across it.

This man wants something else. He keeps slipping a look down to my dark thighs while he writes this ridiculous ticket… and I like it. When he speaks, his voice drips with need, while his posture screams authority. It’s almost enough to make me forget how annoyed I am at the present inconvenience.

“Ma’am, you know how fast you was going’?”

Though familiar sea island twang is enticing; I am not amused. Who the hell is he calling, ma’am? I’m only thirty-five! Plus, I hate rhetorical questions. When dealing with law enforcement, that is nothing more than trick bags. No one knows how fast they are going while driving. Anything I say will put me directly in the speeding category.

I roll my eyes. “I was going fast enough to get where I’m going on time.” At least I was.

Nicole’s aunt Pearl kept me longer than I thought she would with her talk of food, death and murder plots. The bombshells she dropped tonight make me want to board a flight back to San Francisco ASAP. But I promised Symone I’d be here for her debut as The Haint’s new owner at the Christmas Blues Festival tonight. I never break a promise. I’m also never late, and I’m sure Tara and Nicole are wondering where I am.

Sighing, I inspect Sheriff too damn serious for the first time. When my eyes roam from the rock-hard abs pressing against his lame cotton uniform shirt to his deep and twinkling eyes, I silently admit he’s fine… but old as shit. 

Curly salt and pepper hair bounce off his jet-black skin in the moonlight. He’s tall, easily over six feet, and filling out that ugly brown sheriff’s uniform with perfectly produced muscles. My guess is that he spends more time in the gym than between a soft pair of sugar-scrubbed thighs. Hence his fascination with mine. Maybe his thirst will get me out of this speed trap. I shift my body to give him a better view of my legs. It’s worth a shot.

He clears his throat. “Ma’am, you aren’t going anywhere driving down my highways twenty miles over the speed limit. You should be glad I’m not giving you a reckless driving violation.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter. When pulled over, I never take my hands off ten and two. I don’t trust the police for two reasons. One, they kill Black people down here for sport. Two, I’m a lawyer and I know better. My hands stay where a cop can see them at all times. After a deep breath, I return my attention to his exquisitely chiseled jaw.

“I’m supposed to be grateful?” My voice rises. “You’re still giving me a ticket. I don’t even live here! Tell me, officer, how many traffic stops do you need to make before you can buy yourself a new police cruiser?”

Ignoring my snide remark, he tears off the ticket and hands it out for me to take it. I snatch it from his hand and attempt to turn away, but he leans down until I have no choice but to look up. His perfect face is now in the open window of my BMW i8. I keep this car at my vacation home in Kiawah. It’s impractical in San Francisco because there are no open roads to fly down. There are also no nineties era Denzel look-alike cops to stop me.

Buy Now or Read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

About Louise Lennox 

Contemporary romance Author Louise Lennox is a hopeful romantic writing steamy romances full of heart and healing.

A Spelman College and Georgetown University graduate, Louise provides women with diverse and meaningful representation in romance novel pages. Not seeing enough women like herself headlining positive love stories, she launched #HappyBlackRomance; a community of readers and writers committed to the creation and sharing of positive romance stories featuring Black heroines.

Louise Lennox plots highlight the joys of Black relationships across the diaspora; pushing readers from all cultural backgrounds to admire them for their strength and downright sexiness. In her novels sparks always fly; the sex amazes; and the characters always leave the world better than they found it through their love.

When she’s not writing, Louise is enjoying her work as a school leader, wife, and mother of the two cutest dragons to ever walk the earth!

To learn more about #HappyBlackRomance and to score a free book or two, check out her website www.lovelouiselennox.com.

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The Counsel of the Cunning by Steven C. Harms Book Tour and Giveaway! @steven_c_harms @stevencharms @StevenCHarms

The Counsel of the Cunning

by Steven C. Harms

November 8 - December 3, 2021 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The Counsel of the Cunning by Steven C. Harms

Roger Viceroy faces a return to the FBI and a life he vacated long ago, until a knock on his front door announces the presence of billionaire and former U.S. Senator, J├╝rgen Sandt.

The past has come back to rear its ugly head. Sandt stands on his threshold for a reason: a decade prior the senator’s only son disappeared into the jungles of Guatemala, and Sandt has come to convince Viceroy that further investigation is now necessary. A package left mysteriously outside the family estate, opens the door to the possibility that his son is still very much alive.

Viceroy and his team agree to take on the hunt. Their search steers them from the back streets of Milwaukee to the stealthy corridors of Washington, D.C.—an eerie trek that will ultimately lead to an ancient site that supposedly doesn’t exist.

As Viceroy closes in on the truth, a parallel plot emerges. Not only could it point to the reason behind the cryptic disappearance of Bertram Sandt, but it could also launch a deadly battle that will put millions of lives at stake. On pure instinct, Viceroy knows nothing is adding up. Somehow, somewhere they missed a clue, and if it’s not discovered soon…it may be too late.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Suspense Publishing
Publication Date: November 9th 2021
Number of Pages: 268
ISBN: 978-0-578-93379-5
Series:Roger Viceroy Series, #2
Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads

 

Read an excerpt:

EXCERPT – OPENING CHAPTER

A howler monkey screeched, its shrill pitch adding to the endless cacophony.

Dr. Catarina Amador watched the animal move through the trees until it vanished in the dense canopy below, then drew a last puff on her cigarette, crushing the butt with the heel of her worn-out tennis shoe. Her eyes shifted to the ancient ruins sprawling in every direction; eroded, gray slabs of rock covered with vines, others crumbled beyond recognition.

Her prison.

Atop the temple mount, the slight breeze and mid-morning sunlight provided a respite from the enclave of stone ruins and paths that weaved through the jungle of whatever country she was in. To the east, the sun reflected off the lone glimpse of the river, catching her eye. The faint sparkles shimmering off the surface forever calling her home. Six years and counting. But each passing moment chipped away at her will, replacing those pieces with an ever-increasing hopelessness. She had become mostly devoid of thought save for the world-class talents she employed for her captor.

The youngest daughter of a large family from the slums of Mexico City, her intellect and scientific acumen made her a prodigy. World-renowned in academic circles by the age of fourteen. At fifteen she began her studies at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore; flying through, she graduated just five years later with a PhD in biomedical engineering. Her human molecular manipulation thesis elevated her into the scientific world’s stratosphere. Upon graduation, blank check offers from a hundred different companies and research labs spanning the globe filled her mailbox. All she had to do was pick one. Her parents had come to Baltimore for the graduation and to help with the decision. Over dinner, the list was pared down to four opportunities in the western hemisphere. When the evening came to a close, they parted company—her parents back to the hotel and Catarina to a local establishment to celebrate graduation with her peers. She was never seen again.

Sighing, she took a few steps forward to look out over the plaza area, resting her arms at chest height on the massive stone wall encircling the space. Standing just over five feet, her stature matched her frame. A lithe body and long, black hair kept in a ponytail most days accentuated her stunning facial features. A foot taller and she would have graced magazine covers instead of medical journals.

She peered down at a bird-faced stone sentry near one of the plaza’s entryways and the eyeless human statue set a few yards to its left. A variety of bizarre figures were sprinkled throughout the ruins. She felt the strangest ones were the two tall snakes, standing erect at twice her height with human feet, holding large blackish orbs of polished rock in their massive jaws. Positioned on either side of “Main Street,” as she had nicknamed it, they guarded a small but steady waterfall spilling in front of a steep rock wall. The falls travelled over the rock above creating a wall of water ten feet high, cutting off the path with no way forward. A five-foot-wide chasm stood between the path’s end and the water wall. She once had peered into it. No splash sound, the rushing water just disappeared into an eternal abyss. Beyond the water wall was the forbidden canyon and the treasure of the ancient ruins.

She closed her eyes tight and bowed her head, reflecting on the moment she first penetrated the water wall, not knowing what was on the other side.

Two men had tossed her over the chasm where she landed on hard ground and found herself in a dank cave, lit only by a torch on each wall. Soaking, she followed the orders she was given and took ten steps forward to a turn in the cave, which led to the opening on the other side. About sixty feet ahead was the jagged mouth of the exit, perfectly outlined by the sunshine stabbing through on the other side. Picking her way carefully towards it, the temperature warmed until she was standing at the cave’s exit. She took the final step, ducking slightly into the beyond, and took in the wonderment of her surroundings.

It was a smallish canyon with sheer, steep sides and thick vines growing in bunches among the rocks. Clinging in arbitrary clumps was a fruit she had never seen before, displayed in a spectrum of light green to black and every variation in-between. Above the canyon the jungle had formed a natural ceiling of branches; not overly dense, but enough to provide a protective layer yet still allow the sun to push through to the polished, black-stained stone floor in various spots.

And there, in the middle of it all, stood a man of some years with his hands clasped behind his back. Wearing a panama hat, unassuming slacks and a floral print button-down, the hat’s shadow cut across his face making his mouth the only discernible feature.

He gestured to her to come and sit at a small wooden table to his left. She had walked with slow, unsure steps towards him. What would he do? Was this the end? As she neared, his persona became clear. A man of Hispanic descent, well-manicured, with an air of self-assurance that clung to him like an invisible but tangible layer.

Once she sat, the man took his own seat and lit a cigar, drew a few puffs, and spoke.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Amador,” he had said. “Welcome to my kingdom,” he added, with a sweeping hand gesture.

“Where am I?” she remembered asking, as if in a dream.

“Where you were born to be.”

“Who…who are you?” she asked.

Her mind’s eye recalled the memory of his response at this particular moment. A smile. Cryptic.

“My name you will never know. But take heart. You are here to lead a significant advancement in a little science project I have a vested interest in. You, Dr. Amador, will be its shining star.” Then came his explanation for her kidnapping and what he wanted.

He began with a cloaked apology for his men taking her off the streets of Baltimore and blindfolding her for two days.

Her memory replayed the horrible experience. Someone coming from behind as she passed an alley. A hood suddenly coming down over her face. A vice-grip hand that quickly covered her mouth. The man whispering something in her ear—a throaty, aged timbre—before hustling her into a vehicle. Once inside, he let go but ordered her to be silent as she felt the unmistakable hardness of the barrel of a gun being pressed against her temple. She recalled the vehicle speeding up, taking a number of tight turns before zooming along a straight path, then slowing to a stop and taking a final turn. The last slice of recollection was a breeze touching her arms as she was pulled out of the vehicle, being carried up a flight of stairs and into an enclosed space, as the sound of an airplane’s engine roared to life. For a brief moment the hood was removed, but an instant later, a man she assumed was her captor, sprayed something in her face. That was it. Her recollection of a hazy, in-and-out consciousness was the only vestige of the bridge between boarding that plane and coming off it some amount of time later. Once again hooded and placed back in a vehicle for a short ride, she was then in a helicopter—the sound of its rotors were unmistakable. She remembered the flight being incredibly long. Upon landing, the same throaty voice said something she couldn’t understand and then her hood was removed.

The bright stab of lush greenery walling in a sunlight-splashed landing pad pierced her vision. She recalled squinting, trying to discern the environment. The warmth of the climate immediately registered. Baltimore and her parents were the first thought that came to mind and then the understanding that they and the city were now thousands of miles away.

Two different men, not so gently, had taken her arms and steered her to a pathway that directly led into what she then was able to realize was a tropical forest, and finally to the waterfall and the eventual meeting with the man in the panama hat.

With another puff of the cigar, he then presented her with the whole tale of what lay ahead.

She was to develop a new drug, and he had stated that her opportunity to use her intellect and talent when it came to molecular manipulation was going to be unfettered. “Anything and everything is at your disposal,” he had said with firmness and a hint of delight.

Next was a tour of the compound and her new living quarters—a luxurious penthouse adjacent to the ancient temple featuring a grand view. It was stocked with a closet full of clothes, toiletries, a hot tub on the small balcony, a desk, books for reading, and a computer to be used for her research. Following that came an introduction to the world-class lab with five qualified scientists, also prisoners. Her operation to run. Her scientists to lead. A deadline of three years.

Included in the “tour” was a modern, plain brick building housing more prisoners, each given a simple cell. Haggard-looking people. Further on came the trails, the statues, the ruins. Another cement block building looking completely out of place, with a large “F” scratched into the door, and behind it the three men and one woman chained to the wall. Final stop, a spherical hut off the southwest corner of the plaza, secured by barbed wire and an armed guard.

“Sometime in the coming weeks I will escort you here again,” the man had said in a different, almost reverential tone. “The treasure inside is truly priceless. Perhaps the single greatest discovery in the long, brutal history of this ancient empire.”

His final comment echoed in her mind, reverberating, before she eased her eyes back open, fluttering them as they adjusted to the bright sunlight atop the mount. The present day resumed its rightful place in her awareness, which she reluctantly gave into.

It was an off day from the lab. No scrubs. Worn-out gray cargo shorts and an equally frayed white halter top draped her body. Utility and comfort for the task ahead. Eleven harvesters with large baskets strapped to their midsections came up beside her: seven adult women, three men, and one five-year-old girl. She looked down and winked at the child, giving her a soft pat on the head.

“Hello Isabella,” she said. The girl giggled as she always did and hugged her leg.

Dr. Amador savored the indulgent moment before a cocked rifle cracked the air behind the group, making them all spin around. Atop a small, three-walled structure on the back edge of the temple mount, stood an enforcer, and next to him, the man with the unknown name. The king of the ancient empire. Panama hat and all.

“Time for the harvest,” he said in his now familiar deep voice. “Thank you for your continued service. Business is prospering as planned.” He tipped the hat before disappearing. The group stared back; prisoner slaves in the heart of ancient ruins whom the outside world didn’t even know existed.

“Let’s move,” the enforcer screamed. “The Tat,” as they had come to call him, had markings covering his skin, save for his face. As the group moved, Dr. Amador loitered just enough to ensure she was the last one in line down the familiar steps. Three more enforcers stood ready at the bottom to escort them to the canyon—two positioned twenty paces away on the plaza and one at the base of the steps. When her foot touched the plaza, she shot a sideways glance to the enforcer who stood there. He was a relatively short man, fortyish, with half his right ear missing and raven black hair fashioned in a bowl-cut. Her pet name for him was “Mrs. Lobe,” a play on words that he found amusing. He caught her glance, blinking both eyes simultaneously before grabbing her elbow and shoving her forward to pick up her pace. The Tat joined him as they crossed the plaza.

The trail to the canyon was directly across. Wide at the start, it narrowed to single file after the first bend near a statue of a half-man, half-bird figure. Two enforcers led the group down the path, with The Tat and Mrs. Lobe bringing up the rear.

As Dr. Amador passed the statue she stumbled, taking her over the path’s edge and down a steep incline into a heavy cluster of ferns; landing awkwardly, she yelled in pain. The Tat screamed at her, sending down Mrs. Lobe. Once there, he roughly lifted her upright and then hoisted her up the hillside, pushing her in the small of her back while she used her hand in his as a leverage point to climb. When she reached the trail, The Tat grabbed her neck and moved her quickly to catch up with the group.

They were out of sight around another bend when Mrs. Lobe reached the path from his climb back up. He looked around for a moment before opening his palm to look at the flash drive Amador had given him. One more glance around, he then pulled out a satellite phone and punched in a message before heading down the path to rejoin the work party.

At the receiving end, a man in cowboy boots stared at the words.

DOC DID IT. IN HAND NOW. I’LL COME WITH THE NEXT SHIPMENT.

***

Excerpt from The Counsel of the Cunning by Steven C. Harms. Copyright 2021 by Steven C. Harms. Reproduced with permission from Steven C. Harms. All rights reserved.

 Author Bio:

Steven C. Harms

Steven C. Harms is a professional sports, sponsorship, broadcast sales, and digital media executive with a career spanning over thirty years across the NBA, NFL, and MLB. He's dealt with Fortune 500 companies, major consumer brands, professional athletes, and multi-platform integrated sports partnerships and media advertising campaigns. He's an accomplished playwright having written and produced a wildly successful theatrical production which led him to tackle his debut novel, Give Place to Wrath, released November 9, 2021 from Suspense Publishing. Harms is a native of Wisconsin, a graduate of the University of Wisconsin - La Crosse. He now resides in the greater Milwaukee area as a sponsorship executive.

Catch Up With Steven C. Harms:
StevenCHarms.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @StevenCHarms
Instagram - @stevencharms
Twitter - @steven_c_harms
Facebook - @authorstevencharms

 Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!

Enter to Win:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Steven C. Harms. There will be THREE (3) winners for this tour. Each of the THREE (3) winners will receive a $10 Amazon.com gift card (US Only). The giveaway runs November 8 through December 5, 2021. Void where prohibited.

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27 November 2021

Perils in Yorkshire (British Book Tour Mysteries) by Emma Dakin Book Tour and Giveaway!

Perils in Yorkshire (British Book Tour Mysteries) by Emma Dakin

About Peris in Yorkshire

Perils in Yorkshire (British Book Tour Mysteries) 

Cozy Mystery 3rd in Series 

Publisher ‏ : ‎ Camel Press (October 12, 2021) 

Paperback ‏ : ‎ 294 pages 

ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 160381387X 

ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1603813877 

Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B094PXJT8W 

Claire Barclays tourists are exploring the cobbled streets of York. Her American ladies from Tucson, the couple from Bristol, and the couple from London appear fascinated by Claire's explanations of the unique architecture. All except Philip, a younger, single man who disappears—again. Claire spots him entering the chocolate Factory and races down the stairs, suspecting Phillip has headed for the kitchens and trips over the body of a security guard. She doesn't see any connection between the body and tourists until Mark, her loving partner, and a detective inspector with the Major Crimes Investigation Team tells her Philip is an undercover Scotland Yard detective and on a job. Claire removes the group from the city of York quickly and drives them north to the Yorkshire Moors, a vast land of almost bleak wilderness and the setting of many mystery novels. She stops for a picnic at the famous Ralph’s Cross where moorland, green with springtime heather, stretches for miles. Her bucolic plans are interrupted when her American ladies report the sudden death of Philip in the surrounding bog. Mark tells her Philip was on the trail of a drug distribution team. But will Claire be able to keep these ladies who are intelligent, determined, and expert mystery readers out of a messy situation with a murderer? Claire has high hopes that she will be able to do so without endangering them all.

About Emma Dakin

 

Emma Dakin lives in Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia. She has over thirty trade-published books of mystery and adventure for teens and middle-grade children and non-fiction for teens and adults. Her memoir Always Pack a Candle: A Nurse in the Cariboo-Chilcotin has received wide recognition. But she keeps returning to her favorite genre, cozy mysteries. Her love of the British countryside and villages and her addiction to reading cozy mysteries keep her writing about characters who live and work in those villages. She enjoys those characters and trusts you will as well.

Author Links 
  Webpage/Blog emmadakinauthor.com 
  Facebook http://tiny.cc/ilk3az 
  Goodreads http://tiny.cc/ttk3az 

  Purchase Links – Amazon B&N - IndieBound - Kobo - Google Play -

TOUR PARTICIPANTS
November 22 – StoreyBook Reviews – CHARACTER GUEST POST
November 23 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
November 23 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews - SPOTLIGHT
November 24 – Christy's Cozy Corners - REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST
November 25 – U.S. THANKSGIVING – OFF
November 26 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT
November 27 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
November 27 – Diane Reviews Books – GUEST POST
November 28 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT
November 29 – Here's How It Happened – SPOTLIGHT
November 29 – Nellie's Book Nook – REVIEW
November 30 – Novels Alive – GUEST POST
December 1 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog – SPOTLIGHT
December 2 – Mysteries with Character – GUEST POST
December 3 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER INTERVIEW
December 4 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT
December 4 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT
December 5 – The Mystery Section – SPOTLIGHT
December 6 – BookishKelly2020 – SPOTLIGHT 


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26 November 2021

The Accidental Suffragist by Galia Gichon Book Review!





“The Accidental Suffragist”

Galia Gichon | June 1, 2021 | Wyatt-MacKenzie Publishing | Historical Fiction 

Paperback | 978-1948018968 | $15.95 


Empowering novel reveals how the 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist Factory


Over a century after women were granted the right to vote, a new voice in historical fiction, Galia Gichon, explores this pivotal moment in time through a unique and distinctive lens. 

It's 1911, and protagonist Helen Fox is a factory worker living in New York's tenements. When tragedy strikes in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, Helen is seduced by the cause for women’s suffrage and is soon immersed, working alongside famous activists.

As Helen's involvement with the cause deepens, she encounters myriad sources of tension that test her perseverance: estrangement from her husband, who is blindsided by his wife's sudden activism; ostracization by neighbors; unease at working side by side with wealthier suffragettes; and worry about her children as she leaves them to picket the White House in Washington.

“The Accidental Suffragist” (Wyatt-MacKenzie, June 2021) spans World War One and concludes with the triumph of 1919. In a time when the obstacles for women seemed insurmountable, Helen discovers her voice as an independent woman and dreams of equality in a male-dominated society. 

“engaging... Helen is an appealing heroine and her personal journey will resonate with readers.” –BookList

“The Accidental Suffragist”

Galia Gichon | June 1, 2021 | Wyatt-MacKenzie Publishing | Historical Fiction 

Paperback | 978-1948018968 | $15.95 

GALIA GICHON: Widely quoted in The New York Times and more, Galia Gichon spent nearly ten years writing financial research for top investment banks before launching Down-to-Earth Finance, a top personal financial advising firm in New York.

Galia is the author of My Money Matters, a personal finance book which received notable press from the New York Times, TODAY Show, CNN, Newsweek, Real Simple and more. Galia Gichon frequently leads seminars for Barnard College where she has taught for 13 years. She is an avid angel investor focusing on women-led and impact startups and actively counsels startups through accelerators. 

Follow Galia on social media: 

Twitter: @pagesandmore | Instagram: @pagesandmore


An Interview with

Galia Gichon


How has your career in finance influenced your fiction writing? 


My goal has always been female empowerment specifically through independent financial education. By being financially independent, women are able to make independent choices in their lives. As a result, I was fascinated by how women have been fighting to make those choices - starting with the right to vote! 


What was the research process like for this novel? Did you learn anything particularly surprising? 

I learned so much! I had to really research articles, books, cartoons and individual women’s stories which I devoured. Two pivotal events in the book were shocking to me: the parade in 1913 right before President Wilson’s inauguration and the Occoquan prison scene. I had never heard of them before! 


Why did you choose to center this story around a struggling factory worker rather than one of the charismatic–often wealthy–leaders of the movement?


I felt the class struggle was more interesting from a narrative perspective. I also felt it was easier to be a Suffragist if you had means and wealth, whereas the obstacles were much harder for the working class woman.


Has the suffrage movement impacted activism today? Are there certain parallels that stuck out to you?


Absolutely! The voting lines we saw during this last election seemed similar in that groups of people were denied basic privilege. It showed that we can’t take our rights today for granted and need to continue to fight for equality.


Can readers expect to see more books from you in the future?

Absolutely! I’m already working on a feminist contemporary novel and starting an outline for another historical fiction feminist novel.


My Thoughts


The Accidental Suffragist by Galia Gichon is a novel of women's rights especially the right to vote. In 1911 Helen Fox, wife and mother, is a factory worker in New York city tenements. She and her husband trying to make ends meet, actually experience a tragedy in the family from the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire . As a result of this, Helen gets involved in the cause for women’s suffrage, working alongside famous activist for the right to vote and change the work laws for children.


She experiences tension as an activist, with her husband, who reluctantly lets her do this. I felt that her husband was a lot like other men of the era, 1912, who felt that women belonged in the home and not out marching for women's rights. She is shunned by her neighbors and feeling guilt for leaving her husband and children to go marching. She also feels out of place with her wealthier suffragists.


On March 3, 1913. more than 5,000 suffragists from around the country paraded down Pennsylvania Avenue from the U.S. Capitol to the Treasury Building with Helen Fox with them.  The Night of Terror - where Suffragists were tortured by male guards at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia was a pivotal point in the movement, fictional Helen Fox experienced this along with her friends.


I was moved by this book, I knew of the movement by what I was taught in high school and had read other historical fiction books about Susan B Anthony and her quest for the right to vote. I had not known about some of women involved. Very eye opening. I could not believe that it took 50ish years for the 19th amendment to become law and that certain rights still continue to this day. I think that if you enjoy reading about the Women's Movement and how it affected people, rich and poor, give this book a read. The author should be commended for the amount of research that she did. I enjoyed the book immensely! 


I received this book for review purposes only!


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