The Impaler's Wife by Autumn Bardot Book Tour and Giveaway!

The Impaler's Wife by Autumn Bardot

Publication Date: April 2, 2019

Flores Publishing

eBook; 452 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction/Romance

Legend, history, and passion collide in this gritty, evocative, and sensual story about history's most notorious price and the woman who paid love's ultimate price. The year is 1464, and young King Matthias controls Hungary, his family, and the fate of the world’s most notorious political prisoner, Prince Vlad Dracula. Ilona Szilágy, the king’s cousin, is young and ambitious. Dracula is determined to marry into the Hunyadi family. It is love at first sight…but the king has other plans. The Impaler Prince, however, never takes no for an answer. This begins Ilona’s journey into the treacherous world of court intrigues, family betrayals, and her husband’s dark desires. Eager to become Vlad’s trusted confidant, Ilona soon discovers that marriage to a man tortured by his past comes with a price. Woven throughout is a peek into the life and times of one of the world’s most enigmatic and maligned rulers…the man before the legend. With Bardot’s decadent period detail and a cast of gritty evocative characters, The Impaler’s Wife offers a fierce yet sensuous glimpse into the violent 15th century.

Available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble

About the Author

Autumn Bardot writes historical fiction and erotica about sassy women and daring passions! Her erotic fiction includes Legends of Lust, Erotic Myths from around the World, published by Cleis Press. Confessions of a Sheba Queen (erotica) will be available Jan 2020. The Impaler's Wife is her debut historical fiction, releasing in April 2019. Autumn has a BA in English literature and a MaEd in curriculum and instruction. She’s been teaching literary analysis for fourteen years When Autumn’s not writing or working, you'll find her hanging out with her ever-growing family, spoiled husband, and pampered rescue pooch. Her favorite things include salty French fries, coffee, swimming, and a great book.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest

My Review

 Vlad III Dracula, known as Vlad the Impaler was the second son of Vlad Dracul, who became the ruler of Wallachia in 1436. Vlad and his younger brother, Radu, were held as hostages in the Ottoman Empire in 1442 to secure their father's loyalty. The relationship between Vlad and Radu deteriorated as Radu became Islam and a friend of Mehmed II, ruler of the Ottoman Empire. Vlad's father and eldest brother, Mircea, were murdered after John Hunyadi, regent-governor of Hungary, invaded Wallachia in 1447. Vlad was held in captivity in Visegrád from 1463 to 1475. The stories of his cruelty began to spread from Germany during that time. Whether they were true or how bad he was is pure speculation. I guess you have to remember that it was in medieval times and cruelty was normal for the time. 

His second wife was Ilona Szilagy, the main character in the book was a cousin to  King Matthias Corvinus, king of Bohemia, Hungary, and Croatia. Vlad is determined to marry into the Szilagy family. Vlad and Ilona had a tumultuous relationship and marriage. They had two children, Vladut and Nicolae. Vlad seized Wallachia in late 1476 but was soon murdered, decapitated. This was the ending of the book, I would like to see a sequel because it appears that there is a lot more to tell of Ilona. 

The story had a lot of war, Vlad was definitely a warrior, sex, murders, and court intrigues. The book went back and forth from when Vlad was young to the present day and his marriage to Ilona. I knew the stories of Vlad Tepes, the Impaler, but had never read much about him. There are a lot of characters in the book, lots with names that I could not pronounce. That did not stop me from enjoying the story thoroughly. Of course, there are a lot of stories about Dracula related to vampirism, those were the stories I knew about, not Vlad the person. I loved Bardot's writing, even though there was a lot of war scenes, she mixed in the daily lives of Vlad and Ilona. She put a personal touch to Vlad and Ilona, the book did not read like a history book like some historical fiction books do.  I think that I would love to read more about Ilona. If you like historical fiction and want to read about the love between Vlad and Ilona then this book is for you. I highly recommend it! 

Blog Tour Schedule

Monday, June 3
Review at 100 Pages a Day

Tuesday, June 4
Excerpt at Historical Fiction with Spirit

Wednesday, June 5
Review at Amy’s Booket List

Friday, June 7
Guest Post at Let Them Read Books

Monday, June 10
Review at A Chick Who Reads

Tuesday, June 11
Excerpt at The Book Junkie Reads

Monday, June 17
Review at Locks, Hooks and Books

Tuesday, June 18
Feature at Just One More Chapter

Friday, June 21
Interview at Passages to the Past

Tuesday, June 25
Review at Passages to the Past

Monday, July 1
Review at A Darn Good Read

Tuesday, July 2
Review at Coffee and Ink

Wednesday, July 3
Review at So Many Books, So Little Time
Review & Guest Post at Clarissa Reads it All

Thursday, July 4
Review & Excerpt at Maiden of the Pages

Friday, July 5
Review at CelticLady’s Reviews

Giveaway

During the Blog Tour, we will be giving away one paperback copy of the Impaler's Wife! To enter, please use the Gleam form below. Giveaway Rules – Giveaway ends at 11:59 pm EST on July 5th. You must be 18 or older to enter. – Giveaway is open to US only. – Only one entry per household. – All giveaway entrants agree to be honest and not cheat the systems; any suspicion of fraud is decided upon by blog/site owner and the sponsor, and entrants may be disqualified at our discretion. – The winner has 48 hours to claim prize or a new winner is chosen. 

  The Impaler's Wife

The Road to Cromer Pier by Martin Gore Blog Tour! @AuthorGore

The Road to Cromer Pier

Janet’s first love arrives out of the blue after forty years. Those were simpler times for them both. Sunny childhood beach holidays, fish and chips and big copper pennies clunking into one-armed bandits.

The Wells family has run the Cromer Pier Summertime Special Show for generations. But it’s now 2009 and the recession is biting hard. Owner Janet Wells and daughter Karen are facing an uncertain future. The show must go on, and Janet gambles on a fading talent show star. But both the star and the other cast members have their demons. This is a story of love, loyalty, and luvvies. The road to Cromer Pier might be the end of their careers, or it might just be a new beginning. 

Pre-order Links:
UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07R9XP3QM/ 
US - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07R9XP3QM/  

Read an Excerpt!

Paul Warren was standing on the pier next to the theatre. It was the late afternoon of what was probably the worst day of his life. He’d changed out of his tracksuit at the bed and breakfast having arrived with very little in the way of clothing; just an overnight bag he kept in the car through force of habit, his briefcase, and laptop. He’d bought a few essentials when he arrived, but his knees still felt like jelly. He wanted to rewrite the last few hours and pretend they hadn’t happened. He was still in shock. When he awoke that morning, things were normal, and by late afternoon, his world had more or less collapsed. He was still struggling with the new reality.  

When it happened, all he could think of was that he needed to go far away. Go as far away as was possible. He found himself heading down the motorway. Then he had a thought: Cromer. Why? Why not? He might as well. As good as anywhere to disappear to for a while.

Cromer had been the family holiday destination. Every factory holiday fortnight every bloody year. It’s what they did. It was here, or Skegness or Weston-Super-Mare. What a choice. They stayed at the same place every year, too. Mrs Bloomingdale’s. He checked in there for old time’s sake. It hadn’t changed much since the 70s, although it was now a bed and breakfast. The painted Anaglypta wallpaper was still on the walls. They’d also managed to wedge an en-suite into the corner of the bedroom. It was certainly an imaginative use of space. You had to laugh. He decided that the only way to use the loo was to reverse in.

What on earth was he doing here? He sat down on one of the benches as he pondered.

He was just feeling sorry for himself, he supposed. Wallowing in nostalgia for times when life wasn’t complicated. Family holidays of fish and chips, footy on the beach and amusement arcades. Big copper pennies clunking into the old one-armed bandits. Flashing lights, the bingo caller in the background, the smell of greasy hot dogs, and the rock with Cromer running through it.

As his mind drifted, he looked at a patch of sand some distance away. The old breakwater where it had happened was still there, he noted. Way back in the 60s. He became oblivious to the world as his mind retold events of happier times long ago.

I remember a warm early evening, and a game of beach football in full swing. It pitted my brothers – Tom and Mike – against Dad, me and my friend, Ian. It must have been the first year that I had been allowed to play – except in goal, of course. I was probably seven or eight. Tom and Mike, being older, didn’t like playing with the little brother and his mate, but Dad insisted, and his word was law. Four other kids were playing. I don’t remember their names – they just appeared, the way they do on holiday.

Dad was a good player. At another time, he might have played professionally, but too much beer and too many cigarettes didn’t help his cause. Anyway, this was a time when my elder brothers discovered that I could play a bit as well. I don’t remember the real score, but Dad had called it level and, as I said, his word was law.

The ball was out wide, with Dad. Tom went to tackle him. A typical Tom tackle, in football as in life. Just dive in. No messing around. But Dad nipped past him on the outside. He looked up and crossed. I was in the middle. The ball went over the head of Mike, and dropped ahead of me. I couldn’t head the ball then – some say I still can’t – but I knew that I just had to do this. I threw myself full length as the ball dropped. I felt a bump on the top of my head as I made contact, eyes closed. I saw stars and took a mouthful of sand as I hit the ground. I heard a whooping cheer, and felt myself being lifted from the sand. My dad whirled me around his shoulders, a broad grin on his face.

‘GOAAAAAAL!’ he cried. Tom and Mike looked aghast. They’d been beaten by the little brother for once.

Time plays tricks on the memory, but I remember Cromer for those warm summer days, yet I know that there were countless times when a raw east wind ripped across the beach, making any pretence at sunbathing ridiculous. Somehow though, it didn’t matter. As a growing child, what mattered was eating fish and chips and playing football, or cricket, or doing those countless other things that a beach and an imagination can create.

I don’t really know why it was Cromer every year. There are hundreds of alternatives on offer. I know that Mum came to hate the place, but Dad wanted to go, and Mum put up with it. I suspect that Dad never actually realised how much Mum wanted to go somewhere else. It’s funny how you can live with someone for years and still not fully understand them.

We stayed in the same flat every year, overlooking the pier. Mrs Bloomingdale’s Holiday Flatlets. Red flock wallpaper, polished oak staircase, hot water of variable temperature from scalding to lukewarm, antique gas cooker, and exactly six of everything in the kitchen – no two items of the same brand. Oh, and the electricity meter that required the endless supply of shillings.

The front bedroom had a stunning view of the sea, and the kitchen a not so stunning view of the bingo hall. Two bedrooms. Mum and Dad had the bedroom with the sea view, and we had the other one, without a view at all. A set of bunk beds and a single bed with an iron frame filled the room.  

We didn’t cook much. I seem to remember it was fish and chips most days, except Sunday, of course. On Sunday, it was the café in the High Street for Sunday lunch. It seems funny, looking back, that the only apparent difference between the roast beef, pork or chicken was the colour. It was all thinly machine-sliced and tasted of virtually nothing. Still, the spotted dick and custard (all in the price, along with the pot of tea) made up for the mediocrity of the offering.

What was he going to do? Doubtless, people would want to speak to him. He just needed a day or two to think. Give it a few days and the whole thing would be yesterday’s news. Seven missed calls on his mobile. But he didn’t want to talk to her or to anybody else for that matter. Not yet. He needed time.

Paul Warren

Paul Warren is  the mysterious outsider who arrives in Cromer after a gap of thirty plus years. Why has he come back? What has happened to him on that fateful day? Well forgive me but if I go further it will amount to a spoiler.

This excerpt draws on my childhood holidays in Cromer, with my three brothers. It was Cromer for us virtually every year, as my father was from Norwich, and Cromer was the nearest seaside to Coventry, where I was born. We came by bus though. No car. Seven hours on Premier Travel by bus. Mum sent a trunk full of clothes on ahead, so I didn’t have much to wear the week before we went!

Much of the nostalgia I feel for Cromer comes out in Paul Warren’s character, but not much else in him is biographical to me. One facet of the story in the book is the highs and lows of life. Paul has ridden the rollercoaster, as has a number of other characters in the book. These ups and downs come together as the story unfolds.

Author Bio

I am a 61-year-old Accountant who semi-retired to explore my love of creative writing. In my career, I held Board level jobs for over twenty-five years, in private, public and third sector organisations. I was born in Coventry, a city then dominated by the car industry and high volume manufacturing. Jaguar, Triumph, Talbot, Rolls Royce, Courtaulds, Massey Ferguson were the major employers, to name but a few.

When I was nine year’s old I told my long-suffering mother that as I liked English composition and drama I was going to be a Playwright. She told me that I should work hard at school and get a proper job. She was right of course.

I started as an Office Junior at Jaguar in 1973 at eleven pounds sixty-four a week. I thus grew up in the strike-torn, a class divided the seventies. My first career ended in 2015 when I semi-retired as Director of Corporate services at Humberside Probation. My second career, as a Non-Executive Director, is great as it has allowed me free time to travel and indulge my passion for writing, both in novels and for theatre.

The opportunity to rekindle my interest in writing came in 2009 when I wrote my first pantomime, Cinderella, for my home group, the Walkington Pantomime Players. I have now written eight. I love theatre, particularly musical theatre, and completed the Hull Truck Theatre Playwrite course in 2010. My first play, a comedy called He's Behind You, had its first highly successful showing in January 2016, so I intend to move forward in all three creative areas.

Pen Pals was my first novel, but a second, The Road to Cromer Pier, will be released in the Summer of 2019.  

I’m an old fashioned writer I guess. I want you to laugh and to cry. I want you to believe in my characters and feel that my stories have a beginning, a middle, and a satisfactory ending.
Social Media Links
Twitter - https://twitter.com/AuthorGore  
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Martin-Gore-Author-1237780169706466/

Emperors of the Deep by William McKeever Book Tour and Giveaway!

Book Details:

Book Title: Emperors of the Deep by William McKeever
Category: Adult Non-Fiction, 320 pages
Genre: Environment, Ocean Wildlife, Marine Life
Publisher: Harper Collins
Release date: June 25, 2019
Tour dates: June 25 to July 12, 2019
Content Rating: PG-13 + M (Intense underwater moments and descriptions of interactions with Sharks both in diver and hunting situation)

Book Description:

In this remarkable groundbreaking book, a documentarian and conservationist, determined to dispel misplaced fear and correct common misconceptions, explores in-depth the secret lives of sharks—magnificent creatures who play an integral part in maintaining the health of the world’s oceans and ultimately the planet.

From the Jaws blockbusters to Shark Week, we are conditioned to see sharks as terrifying cold-blooded underwater predators. But as Safeguard the Seas founder William McKeever reveals, sharks are evolutionary marvels essential to maintaining a balanced ecosystem. We can learn much from sharks, he argues, and our knowledge about them continues to grow. The first book to reveal in full the hidden lives of sharks, Emperors of the Deep examines four species—Mako, Tiger, Hammerhead, and Great White—as never before, and includes fascinating details such as:
Sharks are 50-million years older than trees;
Sharks have survived five extinction level events, including the one that killed off the dinosaurs;
Sharks have electroreception, a sixth-sense that lets them pick up on electric fields generated by living things;
Sharks can dive 4,000 feet below the surface;
Sharks account for only 6 human fatalities per year, while humans kill 100 million sharks per year.

McKeever goes back through time to probe the shark’s pre-historic secrets and how it has become the world’s most feared and most misunderstood predator, and takes us on a pulse-pounding tour around the world and deep under the water’s surface, from the frigid waters of the Arctic Circle to the coral reefs of the tropical Central Pacific, to see sharks up close in their natural habitat. He also interviews ecologists, conservationists, and world-renowned shark experts, including the founders of Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warrior, the head of the Massachusetts Shark Research Program, and the self-professed “last great shark hunter.”

At once a deep-dive into the misunderstood world of sharks and an urgent call to protect them, Emperors of the Deep celebrates this wild species that hold the key to unlocking the mysteries of the ocean—if we can prevent their extinction from climate change and human hunters.

Buy the Book:

Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble

Add to Goodreads

Watch the trailer:

https://vimeo.com/333551042

About the Author:

Photo Credit: Debra Somerville

William McKeever is a writer and documentary Filmmaker. He is the founder of Safeguard the Seas, an NGO dedicated to ocean conservation. He is the producer and director of the forthcoming feature-length documentary Man Bites Shark.

Connect with the author: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Instagram 

Enter the Giveaway!

Ends July 20, 2019

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Chloe: Lost Girl by Dan Laughey Blog Tour! @danlaughey @raresources

Chloe: Lost Girl

A missing student. A gunned-down detective. A woman in fear for her life. All three are connected somehow.

Detective Inspector Carl Sant and his fellow officers get on the case. But what links the disappearance of a university student, the death of an off-duty police sergeant, and a professor reluctant to help them solve the case?

Their only clue is a sequence of numbers, etched by the police sergeant Dryden on a misty window moments before he breathed his last. Soon it becomes clear that Dryden's clue has brought the past and present into a head-on collision with the very heart of Sant’s profession.

Racing against time, D.I. Sant must find out what's behind the mysterious events - before the bodies start piling up.

Purchase Links: 

UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07PDLDS7N  

US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07PDLDS7N 

The following extract is from Chapter 5 of CHLOE: LOST GIRL. It’s from the point of view of a middle-aged woman whose previous life as an investigative journalist is coming back to haunt her in her present-day role as a police informant.

She sang all the time. It was a wonder the radio in the kitchenette still worked after sustaining daily hits of soapy water from her singing.
A bit of a music buff, she kept pace with the top songs and artists in the charts. Pub music quizzes were her speciality, though she couldn’t enter a pub these days. Too small, too social. Large public gatherings where no-one cared to know you – they were her sole domain.
Halfway through the chorus of A-ha’s ‘Take On Me’ she thought she heard a knock on the door. Lowered the volume and listened. Heard nothing and twisted the volume knob, belting out a high note, shaking her shoulders, suds plopping onto the old radio.
The knocking came again. No mistaking it this time.
‘Postman – parcel for you!’
She’d ordered nothing. Suspicions darted around her head. Was he really a postman? Spinning away from the sink, she grabbed a towel off the stove, wiped her hands while looking towards the door. Squared her shoulders, fast thinking, pinching her brow.
‘Thank you, leave it outside the door please.’
A slight pause before: ‘It needs signing for, madam.’
A pang of guilt warmed her. If this was a genuine postman, with a genuine parcel, it would be daft not to open up. She walked closer, stopped, hand hovering over the safety chain. It was shiny new, wood and paint behind it marred from the last time…
Her hand fell to her side. She found herself stepping back. ‘I can’t come to the door right now. Pass it through the letterbox.’
Another pause, this time a little longer. She thought she could hear whispering. Suddenly the man coughed a response: ‘No problem, madam. Here it is.’
Keeping her right hand as far from the flap as possible, she reached out and grabbed the electronic pad. It looked genuine enough. Didn’t most couriers use these devices nowadays? She scrawled her name, replaced the pen, extended fingertips to the flap. Swiftly deposited the pad into a grip like a mouth clasping shut.
‘Thank you, madam. I’ll place the parcel right outside your door. Don’t forget it’s here. Lots of unscrupulous types round these parts.’
‘Thank you. I won’t forget.’
She put an ear to the door and heard footsteps fading down the corridor. Then she realised she was sweating. Trying to shrug off the uncertainty, she scorned herself for imagining wolf-like eyes watching her every move.
Yet try as she might, she couldn’t convince herself all was normal that afternoon.
Sunday afternoon!
What kind of postman worked a Sunday afternoon shift?
Answer: a shifty postman. She didn’t like this. Not one bit.
She wouldn’t open that door, not for love or money.
She got the vac out instead and went back to her trusty companion: the telly. The news was on, the voices muffled by the whistling Hoover. She glimpsed images of buildings and streets she recognised. She put down the Hoover and turned up the volume; saw the same buildings and streets she’d passed yesterday. Then came helicopter shots looking down on a double--decker bus, or what was left of it, crushed into a tangled array of shop-fronts like a giant cigarette stub.
BUS TRAGEDY was the caption. The words rolled across the screen: Seven Dead in Bus Attack Including Police Officer. She began to panic. Was this some sick coincidence?
It couldn’t be him… Could it?
A still of the dead officer’s face flashed up, wearing the proud grin of the new recruit who sacrifices everything – peace of mind, well-being, liberty – for the spotless uniform they adorn.
This was the man she’d confided in less than twenty-four hours ago.
Her eyes glued to the TV, the pictures of the disaster zoomed out as live feed of a press conference took centre screen. A detective with a red beard was telling reporters the investigation was in its early stages and no details could be made public at this time. Anyone with information was urged to contact the police.
The information they sought… she had it. She didn’t need to speculate. She knew the details. The crucial detail.
This was murder. And who was next?
She put a hand to her forehead and caught her reflection on the screen. Her arm shot out, fumbled on the wall behind her, slapped the light switch off.

Author Bio 

Dan Laughey is a lecturer at Leeds Beckett University where he teaches a course called ‘Youth, Crime and Culture’ among other things. He has written several books on the subject including Music and Youth Culture, based on his PhD in Sociology at Salford University. He also holds a BA in English from Manchester Metropolitan University and an MA in Communications Studies from the University of Leeds. Dan was born in Otley and bred in Ilkley, West Yorkshire, a hop and a skip away from the Leeds setting of his Chloe novels. 

His crime writing was purely academic to begin with. He’s written about media violence and tackled the age-old concern about television and video games influencing patterns of antisocial behaviour in society. After years of research and theoretical scrutiny, he still hasn’t cracked that particular nut.

He’s also written about the role of CCTV and surveillance in today’s Big Brother world, the sometimes fraught relationship between rap and juvenile crime, football hooliganism, and the sociocultural legacy of Britain’s most notorious serial killer – the Yorkshire Ripper.

All in all, Dan’s work has been translated into four languages: French, Hebrew, Korean and Turkish. He has presented guest lectures at international conferences and appeared on BBC Radio and ITV News in addition to providing expert commentary for The Guardian and The Daily Telegraph. 

Social Media Links  

Twitter: @danlaughey 
Facebook: fb.com/laughey

Cover Reveal for SWEET TALK by Ashley Hastings!

Cover Reveal for SWEET TALK by Ashley Hastings

Brought to you by Forever Write PR

We are thrilled to share the cover for Ashley Hasting’s SWEET TALK.
Keep scrolling to take a closer look at the cover, and don’t forget to add SWEET TALK
to your Goodreads TBR shelf!

About SWEET TALK 

Title: Sweet Talk

Author: Ashley Hastings

Release Date: 7/23/2019

Genres: New adult/contemporary romance

Word Count: 60K

Synopsis: Casey is all work and no play. Since the death of the man who raised her,
she’s thrown herself into establishing her new bakery and doesn’t have time to waste
on playful pursuits. She’s all business.

Cade doesn’t do relationships. As an attorney, he’s tasked with helping Casey fulfill her
uncle’s dying request. Too bad all he wants to do is sample her sweet treats.

What happens when the guy with the guarded heart falls for the girl he can’t have?

Pre-Order on Amazon! 

Add to Goodreads Now!

Ashley Hastings latest book is Sweet Talk. She writes new adult, romantic fiction with a
dash of suspense and a liberal sprinkling of humor. A lifelong Southerner, Ashley creates
quirky characters in a small-town setting. When she’s not busy plotting her next book,
Ashley is collecting cats and planning a future as a crazy cat lady.

Ashley’s favorite quote is "If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door," by Milton Berle.
She intends to build all the doors.

Follow Ashley:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | BookBub | Amazon | Instagram | Pinterest 

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