The Spook in the Stacks: A Lighthouse Library Mystery by Eva Gates Book Tour And Giveaway!!

The Spook in the Stacks: A Lighthouse Library Mystery by Eva Gates

About the Book

The Spook in the Stacks: A Lighthouse Library Mystery 

Cozy Mystery 4th in Series 

Crooked Lane Books (June 12, 2018) 

Hardcover: 250 Pages 

ISBN-13: 978-1683315803 

Digital ASIN: B075QJ59PX

Halloween in North Carolina’s Outer Banks becomes seriously tricky when librarian Lucy Richardson stumbles across something extra unusual in the rare books section: a dead body.

Wealthy businessman Jay Ruddle is considering donating his extensive collection of North Carolina historical documents to the Bodie Island Lighthouse Library, but the competition for the collection is fierce. Unfortunately, while the library is hosting a lecture on ghostly legends, Jay becomes one of the dearly departed in the rare books section. Now, it’s up to Lucy Richardson and her fellow librarians to bone up on their detective skills and discover who is responsible for this wicked Halloween homicide.

Meanwhile, very strange things are happening at the library―haunted horses are materializing in the marsh, the lights seem to have an eerie life of their own, and the tiny crew of a model ship appears to move around when no one is watching. Is Lucy at her wit’s end? Or can it be that the Bodie Island Lighthouse really is haunted?

With The Legend of Sleepy Hollow on everyone’s minds and ghoulish gossip on everyone’s lips, Lucy will need to separate the clues from the boos if she wants to crack this case without losing her head in The Spook in the Stacks, the delightful fourth in national bestseller Eva Gates’ Lighthouse Library mysteries.

About the Author

Vicki Delany is one of Canada’s most prolific and varied crime writers and a national bestseller in the U.S. She has written more than twenty-five books: clever cozies to Gothic thrillers to gritty police procedurals, to historical fiction and novellas for adult literacy. She is currently writing three cozy mystery series: the Sherlock Holmes Bookshop series for Crooked Lane, the Year Round Christmas mysteries for Penguin Random House and, under the pen name of Eva Gates, the Lighthouse Library series, for Crooked Lane Books.

Vicki lives and writes in bucolic Prince Edward County, Ontario. She is the past president of the Crime Writers of Canada. Her work has been nominated for the Derringer, the Bony Blithe, the Ontario Library Association Golden Oak, and the Arthur Ellis Awards.

Visit Vicki at www.vickidelany.com. 

On Facebook at www.facebook.com/evagatesauthor

Twitter @vickidelany @evagatesauthor 

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June 11 – Mochas, Mysteries and Meows – REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST

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Dangerous Places by Susan Hunter Book Tour and Giveaway!

HTML | Dangerous Places by Susan Hunter

Dangerous Places

by Susan Hunter

on Tour June 4 - 15, 2018

Synopsis:

When teenager Heather Young disappeared from the small town of Himmel, Wisconsin everyone believed her boyfriend had killed her—though her body was never found. Twenty years later, his little sister Sammy returns to town. She begs her old friend, true crime writer Leah Nash, to prove her brother Eric isn’t a murderer.
But Sammy has no new evidence, and her brother doesn’t want Leah’s help. Leah says no—but she can’t help feeling guilty about it. That feeling gets much worse when Sammy is killed in a suspicious car accident. That’s when the independent, irreverent, unstoppable Leah takes up her cause. Her investigation takes her to some dark and dangerous places, and the truth she finds has an unexpected and shattering impact on her own life.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Himmel River Press
Publication Date: November 2016
Number of Pages: 348
ISBN: 1540356477 (ISBN13: 9781540356475)
Series: Leah Nash Mysteries #3 (Each is a Stand Alone Mystery)
Purchase Links: Amazon  | Barnes & Noble  | Google Play  | Goodreads 

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

So, Leah, good to see you. I almost missed your book readin’ there. But what I heard, you did real good. I’m late because the stop ’n’ go light on Main is on the blink, caused a little fender-bender. But that’s OK, eh? Because we put the—”
“I know, Marty, you ‘put the sure in inSUREance.’ ”
Marty Angstrom beamed, thrilled at the evidence that his painstakingly-crafted slogan for the A-1 Independent Insurance Agency had achieved market penetration.
“Noreen was gonna come too, but she’s at her mother’s over to Waukesha tonight. But she bought your book anyway. Gonna give it to her sister for her birthday. I got it right here. Could you sign somethin’ personal? You know, make it special for her to give to Arlene?”
“Sure.” I took the book he handed to me and sat down to autograph it.
Unholy Alliances is the true story of the death of my younger sister Lacey at a residential school run by Catholic nuns. Years after the fact, I got a tip that her death wasn’t accidental as we’d all believed. The investigation I did for my small-town paper, The Himmel Times Weekly, brought the truth to light and also generated some national interest. I wound up with a book deal and a career switch from reporter to true crime writer.
My book reading at the annual Himmel Public Library Wine and Cheese Fundraiser was my first official “celebrity” appearance in town. Although I’d spent the past few months promoting my book across the country on every radio show, television interview program, and podcast that would have me, I’d been a little nervous no one would show up on my home turf. But there was a respectable crowd.
As I signed the book, Marty kept talking.
“So, you’re a big deal now, aren’t you? I saw you on the TV the other day, everybody at McClain’s was watchin’. Gettin’ real famous and all. Leah Nash, big-time author, eh? But I can still say I knew you when.” He smiled with the kind of hometown pride that was usually reserved for a Packers player. I was very touched. He really is a nice man.
“I don’t know about that. The book’s doing well, but that promotional tour stuff is pretty wearing. I’m glad to be home.”
“Speakin’ of home there, Leah, how you set for insurance on that new loft apartment you moved into? Renters need insurance too.”
“I hadn’t really thought about it, Marty. I’ll call your office and—” As I handed him the book, my response was cut off by a jolt to my arm from a woman carrying a full glass of burgundy. The slosh from it instantly made my pale-yellow blazer look as though I’d been a casualty in a shootout.
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” She began dabbing ineffectively with her hand at the spreading deep red stain on the front of my blazer.
“It’s OK, don’t worry about it.” I stood and stepped away from the table, slipping out of my jacket. Fortunately, the wine hadn’t penetrated through to my shirt. I snagged a bottle of water and a napkin from a circulating waiter. As I liberally doused the front of my jacket, the woman apologized again, her voice high and tense.
“Hey, c’mon. It’s not a big deal,” I said. Several people began to glance our way. “I’ll just run to the bathroom and run some cold water on it.” I smiled to ease her embarrassment and hurried off to the restroom. I pushed through the door and narrowly missed slamming it into the bent head of a man who had just started to rise from kneeling under the sink. Startled, I took a half-step back to check the sign on the door. “Ladies.” Nope, I hadn’t barged into the men’s room by mistake.
As he stood I realized he was wearing workman’s clothes and held a wrench in his hand.
“Had a leaky pipe emergency. All done except the moppin’ up.” He indicated a puddle of water that nearly reached the two stalls on the opposite wall.
“Oh, well, sorry to bang in here. Is it OK if I just run some water on this stain so it doesn’t set?”
“Sure, sure. Workin’ fine now. I got to say, Leah, your daddy would sure be proud of you tonight.”
I stopped cold. Nothing brings me up short like mention of the father who abandoned us. “Excuse me?”
“Now, don’t get all huffy, there. You ’member me, don’t ya? It’s Dorsey. Dorsey Cowdrey. I knowed your dad. Knowed you too. We both did a little work for Anthony Dunn, back when he wasn’t so hoity-toity and his name was Tony. Likes to be called Anthony now. Mr. Dunn is even better.” He started a laugh that ended in a smoker’s cough before he went on. “I’m still Tony’s go-to guy. What my daddy used to call a jack-of-all-trades. Little plumbin’, little carpentry, little electrical, little this ‘n’ that. Not much I can’t handle.”
I stared at him without recognition. He had a foxy face, long and sharp-featured with weathered skin. His build was lean, his hair ginger-colored and streaked with gray. Even his ears were fox-like, high and almost pointed. I guessed him to be in his late fifties or early sixties.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you, Mr. Cowdrey.” I had turned my back and was running water over the spot on my blazer.
“Oh now, darlin’, don’t say that. You can’t forget the man what used to give you them Baby Ruth candy bars you was so crazy about. I used to call you ‘little Ruthie’ ’cause you liked ’em so much.”
As I squeezed the excess water from my jacket, I closed my eyes and saw my five-year-old-self and a much younger version of this man leaning toward me. “Here you go, little Ruthie. You sit right there on your swing and chew on this. I’m goin’ in to talk to your daddy fer a minute.” I hadn’t liked him very well—he smelled like stale sweat and tobacco—but I had indeed been crazy about the Baby Ruths, and at five, I was easily won over. Actually, even now, the right candy bar can take you pretty far with me. I faced him and said, “Yes, you’re right. I do remember you, Mr. Cowdrey.”
He smiled, revealing small, sharp yellow teeth that made him look more vulpine than ever. “I heard your little presentation there. You did a real nice job. I’m not much of a reader myself. My boy Cole, though, seems like he read your whole book. I guess he likes bein’ famous, even if he don’t come out lookin’ too good.”
Again I was puzzled. “Cole Granger? He’s your son?”
Cole had been a low-level drug dealer involved with my youngest sister Lacey in her lost days. The last time I saw him, he was a pretty scared loser, on the run out of town from some criminals who were a lot more dangerous than he was.
“By marriage, yeah. He’s my stepson. We don’t get along too good. Still, kin is kin, right?”
The door swung inward then as two laughing women came through. They stopped at the unexpected duo who greeted them. I gave them that funny little half-smile you offer to strangers, and I stepped to their left.
“Excuse me, please. Bye, Mr. Cowdrey.” I didn’t say it was nice seeing him, because it really hadn’t been. Something about that guy gave me the willies. He was picking up his tools as I left.
I hurried back to the reception room, lest Dorsey Cowdrey decide to escort me, and found an empty chair to drape my damp blazer on. As I did so, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw the woman who’d spilled my drink. My expression must have conveyed a not-very-friendly “Enough, all ready. Let it go,” because she started talking quickly.
“No, but wait, please. What an idiot I am. I’m just nervous, I guess. You know, you think something through in your head, and you imagine what you’ll say and how it will go, and then it doesn’t.” She was speaking so quickly that it was hard to follow her, and what I did catch I didn’t understand. Her obvious nervousness was all out of proportion to the slight accident she’d caused.
“I have to talk to you. I need you to—please.” She gulped, emitting a sound between a gasp and a hiccup. She continued a little desperately, “Leah, don’t you remember me?”
Two in one night. What were the odds? I had no idea who she was, and she saw the lack of recognition on my face.
“It’s me, Samantha. Sammy. You have to remember. You were my best friend!” Her voice was stronger now, but still pleading. And then I saw it, as I looked straight into her face. I flashed back to a big, sunny room, with two little girls sitting on a bed, repeating in unison: “We’re best friends. We’ll always be, ’cause I’m for you, and you’re for me.” Then high fives and waves of laughter.
“Sam? Sammy.” I repeated the name with growing certainty. The eyes had it. They were Samantha’s—big and wide set, a little wary now, as though the world were an unfriendly place, but still an amazing shade of aquamarine. Her fine flaxen hair was darker, and instead of hanging like a shining curtain down her back, was cut short and blunt-edged. But it was Sam.
***
Excerpt from Dangerous Places by Susan Hunter. Copyright © 2018 by Susan Hunter. Reproduced with permission from Susan Hunter. All rights reserved.

Author Bio:

Susan Hunter is a charter member of Introverts International (which meets the 12th of Never at an undisclosed location). She has worked as a reporter and managing editor, during which time she received a first-place UPI award for investigative reporting and a Michigan Press Association first place award for enterprise/feature reporting.
Susan has also taught composition at the college level, written advertising copy, newsletters, press releases, speeches, web copy, academic papers and memos. Lots and lots of memos. She lives in rural Michigan with her husband Gary, who is a man of action, not words.
During certain times of the day, she can be found wandering the mean streets of small-town Himmel, Wisconsin, dropping off a story lead at the Himmel Times Weekly, or meeting friends for a drink at McClain's Bar and Grill.

Catch Up With Susan Hunter On: Website, Goodreads, Twitter, & Facebook!

Tour Participants:
Visit the other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!   
Giveaway:
This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Susan Hunter. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com gift Card. The giveaway begins on June 4 and runs through June 17, 2018. Void where prohibited.
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In My Skin by Shannon Mckenna Pre Order Alert and Giveaway! @ShannonMcKenna4 @Barclay_PR

Pre-Order Blitz: IN MY SKIN by Shannon McKenna

“McKenna expertly stokes the fires of romantic tension.” —Publishers Weekly“Her books will take readers on a nonstop thrill ride and leave them begging for more when the last pages are devoured." —Maya Banks, New York Times bestselling author

Title: In My Skin

Release Date: June 19, 2018

Publisher: Self-published

Series: The Obsidian Files #3

Genres: Romantic Suspense

Format: Print & Digital

Synopsis:

Come back to me …
Luke remembers a few things. Just not his last name, or anyone he ever knew. He knows that he’s a supersoldier, genetically enhanced and loaded up with brain implants. He just escaped from a year-long hell of captivity, and to protect his family and friends from his tormentors, he blocked his memories. Now he needs those memories back, fast … or he and those he loves will die agonizing deaths.
Luke’s dangerous plan to reconnect with his past—and stay alive in the present—has drawn his enemies’ attention to the tough and sexy Dani LaSalle. He’s duty bound to protect the luscious beauty from the evil pursuing them, but he can’t control the scorching desire she awakens in him.
Dani’s strict routine has been trashed by Luke’s explosive arrival. This rock-hard slab of valiant, smoldering manhood appears out of nowhere, saves her life, spirits her away to his mountain lair and bewilders her with tales of sadistic researchers, enhanced assassins. Is this gorgeous, problematic sex god just plain crazy—or is she? But Luke can do things with his mind that are just as wild as what he can do with that body … and she can’t say no.
And there’s no time to wonder. As their passion burns hotter, Obsidian moves closer ... and Luke and Dani must place their lives and their hearts on the line just to survive …

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IN MY SKIN Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Shannon McKenna

Goddamnit.

Trapped. In a closet. Stupid f*cking bonehead move. Luke had acted without thinking, locked in combat survival mode.

But they were surrounded, and it was the only move to make. He had to make the best of it. Keep her from making noise. Giving his presence away.

He’d gotten inside just in time. The hostiles had showed up moments afterwards. He’d seen four thermal heat signatures slinking around out there. Systematic, professional, moving smoothly into position in the overgrown foliage. No unmod would have seen or heard them. Covering every entrance. Probably listening with modified ears, just like him.

He just hoped they weren’t scanning for thermals.  He couldn’t afford to lose the advantage of surprise, outnumbered as he was.

Now if he could just quickly, forcefully convince Dani to get down on the other side of the dryer while he went out to deal with them …

But she wouldn’t. It wasn’t her nature. He needed to calm her down first. Explain that she had to do exactly what he said, this instant, if she wanted to keep breathing.

But he couldn’t get the words out. At least not without scaring her so badly that she started screaming again.

Words wouldn’t come. All those long months of keeping silent, refusing to speak to Mark, then Braxton. Resisting interrogation, beating and torture.

He wanted to howl his frustration, but that wouldn’t help. Her heart was galloping.  Stripes of yellow light from the kitchen sliced through the slats in the door and across her eyes. They were wide and brilliant, glittering with angry tears.

“Hold still,” he whispered.

Her body squirmed against his, chest to thigh. She was tall and strong. Her head came all the way up to his nose. Her lush tits pressed against his body armor. The sensation made him want to ditch the damn vest. Feel all those curves for real.

Some other time. He had a job to do. And she absolutely did not deserve the shitstorm that was blowing her way.

“Dani,” he whispered. “Don’t scream.”

He meant it as an order, but it came out rough, hoarse. Pleading.

Slowly, he lifted his hand. Her mouth was slightly open. She was panting. The pink, tender fullness of her lips made him ache down low.

A tear glittered as it flashed down over her cheek. The sight of it hurt him inside.

“Don’t cry,” he begged, in a raw whisper. But he touched his fingertip to the wet tear-track that gleamed on her smooth, beautiful cheek. He wanted to taste it.

She inhaled. Luke sensed the ear-splitting scream that was forming in her mind, and did the only thing he could think of to head it off.

He kissed her.

About Shannon McKenna:

Shannon McKenna is the NYT bestselling author of seventeen action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among which are the stories of the wildly popular McCloud series and the brand new romantic suspense series, The Obsidian Files. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that, but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. Alas, the alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she'd ever dreamed. But what the hell, she loves it anyway, and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her alchemical experiments. She loves to hear from her readers.

Follow:  Website  | Facebook  | Twitter  | Goodreads | Reader Group | Newsletter | Amazon

The Duke I Tempted by Scarlett Peckham First Look and Giveaway! @scarlettpeckham, and @Barclay_PR

"She intended to be the mistress of her own fate. And there was one thing she knew with absolute certainty from observing the was of the world: one did not get that kind of power by marrying it"
THE DUKE I TEMPTED by Scarlett Peckham is out this July!

About THE DUKE I TEMPTED

Having overcome financial ruin and redeemed his family name to become

the most legendary investor in London, the Duke of Westmead needs to secure his
holdings by producing an heir. Which means he must find a wife who won’t discover
his secretcraving to spend his nights on his knees—or make demands on his long
scarred-over heart.

Poppy Cavendish is not that type of woman. An ambitious self-taught botanist designing

the garden ballroom in which Westmead plans to woo a bride, Poppy has struggled

against convention all her life to secure her hard-won independence. She wants

the capital to expand her exotic nursery business—not a husband.

But there is something so compelling about Westmead, with his starchy bearing

and impossibly kind eyes—that when an accidental scandal makes marriage to the

duke the only means to save her nursery, Poppy worries she wants more than the

title he is offering. The arrangement is meant to be just business. A greenhouse

for an heir. But Poppy yearns to unravel her husband’s secrets—and to tempt

the duke to risk his heart.

On Sale in Digital: July 31, 2018

Pre-Order this title at these online retailers:

Amazon  | B&N  |  iBooks |  Kobo | Google Books

Add THE DUKE I TEMPTED to your TBR pile on Goodreads!

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Read and exclusive excerpt from THE DUKE I TEMPTED:

The Duke of Westmead cleared his throat. “Given I rebuked you for your lack of
transparency, Miss Cavendish, honor obliges I disclose to you that I became rather
dismayed when I learned you were betrothed. I suppose I thought, how dare she?
How dare she squander her gifts on so middling a creature as Mr. Raridan? Or,
more to the point, on anyone?”

Poppy didn’t speak. She couldn’t, because her breath was caught. She had never
heard herself described in such terms by anyone. How could she, when the local
gentry who had known her all her life told a different story about her? One of an
eccentric spinster who coarsened herself with commercial enterprise. An arrogant,
unlikeable woman, unhealthily obsessed with plants.

“Thank you,” she said, hoping her voice did not convey how deeply what he said
affected her. It would not do to seem overly moved.

He shrugged, as though his words were unremarkable. As though such assessments
of her worth were lobbed at her all day.

The carriage she had been waiting for at long last appeared through the stable gates
and rolled up to the bottom of the steps.

“Miss Cavendish, in light of my lapse of judgment, I fully understand if you do not
wish to return to Westhaven. But if my sister believes me guilty of ruining her plans
I shall have to live with her mortal disapproval. I don’t suppose I could prevail on you
to reconsider finishing your work? I assure you that I will not attempt to intercede
in so much as the placement of a vase.”

The contours of his face should not have a say in her decision and yet she could
not help but admire them, as the fading light danced across the planes that made
him sometimes handsome, sometimes fierce.

Or perhaps it was only the way that he looked at her. As if her respect meant
something to him. As if she did.

“Very well,” she said. “I shall return in the morning. For Lady Constance’s sake.”

After just a beat too long, he nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. For Lady Constance’s sake.”

And then he smiled.

Boyishly and quick and warm, like the sun darting out from a bank of clouds.
It was so unexpected and disarming that without thinking, she craned her face
towards his to get a better view of it. Their eyes met, and a chill ran down her spine.
Because for just a moment, she thought he might lean in, close the distance, and kiss her.

No. Not thought he might. Wanted him to.

She wanted him to kiss her.

Instead, he folded his mouth back into its usual grim line, bent in a deep bow and
offered her his hand to help her into the carriage.

But it did not escape her notice that he held her fingers just a beat too long as
he said: “Be well, Miss Cavendish.”

  Author Bio:

Scarlett Peckham fell in love with romance novels as a child, sneaking paperbacks
from the stash in her grandmother's closet. By the time she came of age she had
exhausted her library's supply and begun to dream of writing one of her own. 

Scarlett studied English at Columbia University and built a career in communications,
but in her free hours always returned to her earliest obsession: those delicious, big-hearted
books you devour in the dark and can never bear to put down. Her steamy historical
romances about alpha heroines have been finalists for the Golden Heart® Award four times.
Her debut book, THE DUKE I TEMPTED, will be out July 31, 2018.

Scarlett splits her time between London and Los Angeles. When not reading or writing
romance she enjoys pretending to know about wine, discussing The Real Housewives,
 and cooking enormous pots of soup.

Scarlett is represented by Sarah Younger at the Nancy Yost Literary Agency,
and spends far too much time on Instagram and Twitter.

Connect with Scarlett:
 Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Newsletter | Amazon

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