Square Up: 50,000 miles in search of a way home by Lisa Dailey Book Tour Guest Review, Excerpt and Giveaway!

Square Up: 50,000 miles in search of a way home by Lisa Dailey

Publisher:  Sidekick Press, (March 30, 2021)
Category: Memoir, Travel, Family Travel, Adventure Travel, Grief
Tour dates: January 17-February 18, 2022
ISBN: 978-1734494556
Available in Print and ebook, 272 pages

 

Description Square Up by Lisa Dailey

Have you ever wished you could run away and leave your life behind? Born on the “Day of the Wanderer,” Lisa Dailey has always been filled with wanderlust. Although she and her husband had planned to take their family on a ’round-the-world adventure, she didn’t expect their plans to come together on the heels of grief, after losing seven family members in five years.

Square Up shows us that travel not only helps us understand and appreciate other cultures, but invites us to find compassion and wisdom, heal from our losses, and discover our capacity for forgiveness, as well as joy.

Guest Review Square Up by Lisa Dailey

Guest review by Katy

In the short span of five years, Lisa Dailey experienced more loss than many of us will see in decades. In that time, the deaths of seven family members, including both parents and her younger brother, clouded her mind and her ability to process her own emotions. Lisa began experiencing negative mental health issues, including the onset of what she worried might be agoraphobia.

In answer to this, she and her husband decided to take their two teenage sons on an adventure that they'd always planned, but never actually had the guts to carry out. The trip began in Hawaii and extended to places like Guam, Okinawa, Singapore and Vietnam, where her husband had volunteered to work in a dental practice for one month as well as many other countries like Spain and Ghana.

During the trip, Lisa's perspective on her life began to change and she soon realized how much she was letting her grief control her life and ruin her relationship with her children and her husband.

In Guam, Lisa spent time with her uncle and through watching his grief for his sister and nephew and the way that it had driven him to stop taking care of himself, she saw what she was headed toward.

The writing in this memoir is top notch, and deeply emotional. I can only imagine the vulnerability it took for Dailey to record her thoughts during one of the darkest times in her life, but I could definitely see why she struggled to escape those lines of thinking.

Reading about her coming out of that and realizing all that she had to be thankful for is something that I could see being vastly helpful to many readers who are dealing with grief and loss. 'Square Up: 50,000 miles in search of a way home,' is a transformative read in many ways and a stunning memoir to dive into. 

Excerpt Square Up by Lisa Dailey

Namo Buddha, Nepal

When the day arrived for my trekking adventure with the boys, my husband and I said goodbye, our hug lingering, both of us knowing we would not be able to communicate until we returned to the guesthouse in a few days. We had barely been apart for months, and I had come to rely on our closeness, our shared decision-making and planning, but this felt like the right time to step out on my own with my sons.

“Have a great time,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”

I nodded. “We will be fine as long as we don’t get lost.”

Shortly after breakfast, RJ, Tyler, and I took a familiar trail, tackling the thousand stairs to Kali Temple. Further along, we found wooden signs with faded lettering pointing the way to Namo Buddha. Along the dusty path, we passed houses in all states of disrepair. Homes constructed of dried mud and sticks had been so damaged by the earthquake and aftershocks that, in many cases, entire walls were still missing from the structures.

As we passed houses with young children, they ran to the edge of their property shouting, “Chocolate?” Our guesthouse host, Meen, told us before we left that trekkers hiking through the villages of Nepal used to carry chocolate and pass it out to children along the way. The practice had long since been discouraged, although not entirely forgotten. The boys and I would shake our heads apologetically and wave as we passed, hoping a smile and a “Namaste” would suffice. The children smiled back, waving us on our way.

We continued along the terraced landscape covered in a blanket of small yellow wildflowers. We climbed for long stretches, often catching views of the snow-covered Himalayas to our left. Prayer flags were strung from tree to tree across the path, like they were in the streets of Kathmandu. The only sound was the fall of our footsteps and the rustling of the trees. The flags swayed in the light breeze, some bright yellow, red, blue, and green, others so sun-faded their original color was indistinct. The flags imparted a sense of calm and serenity, as if Buddha were watching over us. I was reminded of being in the shadow of the stupas in Myanmar. Could it be true that by simply standing in their presence, calm was restored? I decided it was.

By early afternoon, we arrived at our destination. Ingrid, a middle-aged German woman who owned the resort, welcomed us. After checking us in and calling for lunch to be prepared, she served hot tea and sat with us on the patio. Several cats prowled around seeking our attention, which the boys were more than happy to provide. From the patio we had views stretching to the north and south, even to the Himalayas—less than seventy miles away.

After lunch, I had visions of a short rest and a hot shower. Meen had mentioned that the resort had a generator, so hot water and heat were available all day. Ingrid had other plans for us, however.

“You should walk over to the monastery for evening prayers,” she said. “It’s a beautiful place to visit and they will serve you bread and tea. When you return, you will have time to rest before dinner at seven.”

“Is it okay for us to watch their ceremony?” I felt like we would be intruding on something sacred, something private.

“Oh, yes. It’s an amazing experience,” she replied. “I’m sure you’ll see other travelers there, too.”

We said goodbye and hiked the two miles to the monastery, once again up and down the terraced landscape. Walking up a winding road to an enormous complex on top of a hill, we didn’t notice any other tourists. In fact, we didn’t see anyone on the grounds at all. Surrounded by mountains and now large buildings, we were alone.

“Is this the place?” RJ asked. He, too, had noticed we were the only people walking toward the monastery.

“This has to be it. It’s the only building around here,” I said.

“Mom, let’s turn around,” Tyler said.

I glanced at him and could tell he felt worried about not seeing anyone.

“No, let’s go a little farther. I’m not ready to give up quite yet,” I said.

I knew what Tyler was feeling all too well; I’d let it control me too often. I wasn’t afraid to make a mistake anymore. I wanted to demonstrate to my boys that not achieving the intended outcome was okay.

We wandered further into the complex and began to see an occasional saffron-robed figure walking toward a building in the center.

“That must be where we’re supposed to go. C’mon,” I said.

“Mom, how do you know?” Tyler asked.

“I don’t know for sure, Tyler, but let’s find out,” I said, trusting we were in the right place, even if it was the wrong place. I smiled to myself. I was confident, able to move beyond my own worries.

We walked into the entryway and at once noticed an area filled with shoes and a small sign asked for all footwear to be removed.

“This is the place,” I said, giving Tyler a reassuring smile.

“How do you know?” he asked.

I pointed to the pile of shoes in front of us. “Look at those shoes, Ty. Columbia, Merrell, Nike. I don’t think this is monks’ footwear.”

We removed our dusty socks and shoes, and I led the way up a flight of stairs, the cold marble making my bare toes ache. At the entrance to the large room, a monk greeted us silently with palms pressed together and a small bow, but no words. We reciprocated the greeting and followed him to pillows set along the wall, where he extended his hand and invited us to sit. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I noticed there were several other groups of onlookers seated near us. I gave Tyler a little nudge to make sure he saw them.

“I feel really uncomfortable, Mom,” Ty said.

I heard a familiar ring of anxiety in Tyler’s voice, reminding me of myself in similar moments. I knew this was a moment in which I could either confirm his uneasiness or demonstrate how to move beyond the anxiety.

“I know, hon’, but we’re okay. Let’s see what happens.”

We watched as monks entered the dimly lit room and sat at long tables stretching the entire length of the room. Some monks held instruments, others carried trays of cakes. Several monks served warm milk tea to the guests, followed by slices of sweet bread. Once everyone had eaten, the monks played a variety of instruments and chanted. The beating of large drums and bellowing of conch shells made a deep, resonating sound that vibrated through my body.

I glanced over at Ty. He seemed to be interested in the ceremony, so I closed my eyes and let my body relax. My breath synced to the rhythm of the music. I was also proud of myself for not giving up on this adventure. 

About Lisa Dailey

Lisa Dailey is an avid traveler and writer. In her time abroad, she unearthed new ways of looking at her life through her discoveries in remote corners of the world and she continues to enrich her life through travel. She is currently working on a recipe anthology as well as her first work of fiction. A native Montanan,

Lisa now makes her home by the ocean in Bellingham, Washington, but returns to her roots every summer for a healthy dose of mountains and Big Sky.

Lisa is the owner of Silent Sidekick and Sidekick Press where she helps guide authors through their publishing journey.

Author Website: https://lisa-dailey.com/
Travel Blog: https://northwestrambles.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/nwrambles
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lisadailey1724
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lisad1724/  & https://www.instagram.com/nwrambles/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/nwrambles/

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Giveaway Square Up by Lisa Dailey

This giveaway is for 3 print copies One for each of 3 winners. This giveaway is open to the U.S. only and ends on February 12, 2022 midnight, pacific time.  Entries accepted via Rafflecopter only.

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Violet Spark Elsa by Jade & Erin Kellison Book Tour and Giveaway!

Violet Spark
Elsa Jade & Erin Kellison
(Butterfly Witch, #1)
Publication date: January 24th 2022
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Urban Fantasy

Imogen Taylor: Artist. College dropout. Gamer. Screwup.

I had big plans for art school in California, but when the best mom in the world—mine—needed help, I came home to Arbolito, Arizona instead. I even got my old high school job back, making smoothies at the Desert Freeze…in winter.

So, yeah, by day, my life is a cold, tropical-hued hell. But at night, I escape reality by plugging into my favorite video game, Legendelirium, to become a powerful, sexy witch, going on epic quests while vanquishing baddies.

Until a cute guy from my gaming world shows up at work, gives me the worst kiss ever, and my reality and fantasy lives get blended by purple goo laced with lethal, nanorobotic technology.

Now, I’ve got powers—strange, witchy ones. Scary people are after me, and I don’t know who to trust. And, get this. Somehow, it’s up to me to defeat them, or it’s game over.

Enter the fast, fun, urban fantasy adventure of the BUTTERFLY WITCH series, where magic and science become one—mostly accidentally.

* This is a standalone first book in the brand-new BUTTERFLY WITCH series. Contains swearing, some intense action scenes (low gore), super-slow-burn romantic interest (also low gore), and does not end on a cliffhanger—but, yeah, there’s more to come! *

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

—

EXCERPT:

A towering black-cloaked monolith of a man stalked me through my dreams. I ran, but too slow, my steps and my heart pounding to the ominous beat of The Imperial March…

I cracked an eyelid, fumbled for my phone, and swiped my thumb across the clock app. Shit. Somehow I’d snoozed Darth Vader twice already and now had only fifteen minutes left before the start of my shift as manager at the Desert Freeze. I swung my feet to the floor.

And I stepped on Gwumpki.

With a vicious hiss, the ugly brown monster with his cabbage-green eyes buried all twenty-one claws in my bare ankle.

I yelped and flinched back, accidentally flipping the damned polydactyl menace—still clinging to my foot—up onto the mattress. For one yowling heartbeat, I was tangled in fleece blanket, various wires trailing to my gaming system, and half-feral feline. “Motherf—”

A rap at the door. “Imogen! Are you up? You’re going to be late for work.”

As if I didn’t know that. “I’m up.” Sort of, but not like anybody was watching.

The damn cat had probably sneaked in yesterday while I was at work, hunkered down while I gamed all night, just so he could attack me this morning while I was weak.

I wriggled my foot out of his clutches after one last, nasty scratch across the back of my hand. Under the blanket, Gwumpki growled, brown tail lashing across my phone.

I snatched the 3G embarrassment of a phone out from behind him. “Hate you too.”

In the bathroom, the menthol odor of Mom’s CBD cream was almost as sharp as claws in my nose. She must’ve had a hard night, but I hadn’t heard anything through my headphones. Guilt bit into me even harder.

Holding my breath, I peed, washed my hands, slicked my wet fingers through my hair to pull every long brown strand into a ponytail per the Desert Freeze employee handbook rules, and tugged on jeans and yesterday’s “Freeze Your Life Away!” t-shirt. It wasn’t that dirty.

Except for the smear of blood. But that was fresh. “Dammit, Gwump.” I swabbed at the stain, mostly making it bigger.

“Imogen! Breakfast is ready!”

“Coming.” The thick sizzle-smell of scrambled eggs and veg was like quick-set concrete I had to wade through down the hall to the kitchen. I checked my texts, saw the one last night from Swann, and quickly stuffed the phone in my back pocket. Ugh, couldn’t think about that right now.

“No time to eat, Mom.” I grabbed a travel mug from the drying rack next to the sink and poured myself half the coffee.

“If you didn’t stay up so late…” Coming around the end of the kitchen counter, she held out a small container. The reusable plastic was scarred from thousands of baked zitis over the decade that she’d been a psychiatric nurse on the late shift. “You can’t keep playing your life away, Imogen.”

“I’ll just grab something from work,” I said as I backed away from the leftovers.

Her shuffling steps were too slow to catch me, and I darted out of the kitchen, grabbing my bag from the low table in the front hall. It was like high school all over again.

Except worse.

“Have a good day,” she called from the kitchen. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you too.” But I was already shutting the door between us.

The chilly desert morning air was like a slap in the face—one of those light slaps an evil lord gives his soon-to-be-dead minion, halfway between amused and alarming. Not that Arbolito, Arizona had a lot of evil lords. It didn’t have a lot of anything besides strip malls. Mom bought half the Mission Revival duplex in this suburban subdivision for its magnet school, not its originality.

Not that it ever got that chilly. But fifties was cold enough for my thin blood that I wished I was still snuggled in my fleecy blanket.

Except Gwumpki was there, wrapped up like the ground chuck cabbage roll he was named after. And now I had, like, ten minutes to get to work.

With a sigh, I balanced the coffee in the crook of my arm while I wrestled with the Fiesta’s finicky lock. Wouldn’t it just be my luck if the key broke off?

The top popped off the travel mug, and black coffee sloshed…

But I caught it with just a tiny splash across the back of my claw-marked hand. “Ha!” No caffeine lost.

It’s the little victories in life that matter.

And I made it to the Desert Freeze with two minutes to spare.

Author Bio:

Paranormal romance and science fiction romance for everyone who howls at the moon or looks up at the stars to dream. Learn more about Elsa Jade and the worlds of the Mating Season, Mating Fever & Intergalactic Dating Agency -- and sign up for the New Release Alert -- at http://elsajade.com

Latest News: See the profiles of the sexy aliens of the #IntergalacticDatingAgency in the free sneak peek at Instafreebie. http://instafreebie.com/book/15688

Newsletter / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub

--

Erin Kellison is the bestselling author of the Dragons of Bloodfire series, the Reveler series, and the Shadow series. She writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and science fiction romance. She loves other worlds and visits them as often as possible via movies and books and her kids' imaginations. When not daydreaming or writing, she's goofing off with her family in sunny Arizona.

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Frozen in Motion (Callie Cassidy Mysteries) by Lori Roberts Herbst Book Tour, Excerpt!

Frozen in Motion (Callie Cassidy Mysteries) by Lori Roberts Herbst

About Frozen in Motion

 

Frozen in Motion (Callie Cassidy Mysteries) 

Cozy Mystery 3rd in Series 

Setting - Colorado 

Number of Pages ~275 

More info to come including Amazon and GoodReads Links

A murder at the local hockey rink leaves photographer Callie Cassidy nursing a few injuries of her own, but that won’t stop her from trying to catch the killer—before someone else gets iced…

 

When hockey coach Renata Sanchez asks for Callie’s help exposing her ex-husband’s nefarious activities, Callie hesitates. After all, Renata’s brother, Detective Raul Sanchez, has been known to bristle at Callie’s interference. But with her own second-chance romance on rocky turf and her best friend’s engagement to a man Callie doesn’t entirely trust, she could use the distraction of an investigation.

 

Before she can even begin her research, a confrontation involving the ex, Renata, and Raul erupts right outside Sundance Studio. Then later in the day, the ex-husband literally drops dead and falls from the hockey arena catwalk—landing with a thud on top of Callie. Renata immediately takes the top spot on the suspect list, with Raul’s name not far behind. With time running out to save her friends, Callie enlists the help of her inquisitive cat and her loyal golden retriever to develop a picture of the true culprit.

Excerpt

Chapter One

Tiny snowflakes fluttered onto the top rail of the wooden bridge that spanned Rock Creek. The water beneath gurgled and churned across the rocks, splashing past patches of ice that glistened near the banks. Combined with the gray clouds hanging low in the sky, the scene felt both serene and ominous. I cradled my camera in the crook of my arm as I considered how best to capture the mood.

Taking a step back, I framed the shot and snapped the shutter. Then I adjusted the lens an inch to the left and snapped again. When I studied the results on the camera’s LCD screen, I smiled with satisfaction.

A glance at my watch melted the smile away fast, though. I’d agreed to meet a friend at the Rocky Mountain High coffee shop at nine o’clock, and I had only one minute to make the five-minute walk-through town. I tucked my camera in its bag, zipped it, and slung it over my shoulder.

“I hate being late,” I muttered. Still, I knew this morning’s impromptu photo shoot had been worth it. The overcast morning had generated such dramatic diffused lighting—how could any decent photographer resist?

I powerwalked across the Event Center staff parking lot, my boots crunching on the powdered gravel. Turning right, I strode down Evergreen Way. I peeked through the window of the Snow Plow Chow cafe but didn’t spot the handsome owner, my boyfriend Sam. 

Boyfriend? The word screeched in my head like fingernails on a chalkboard. It might have been appropriate for the teenage versions of ourselves who’d walked hand-in-hand through the halls of Rock Creek Village High School a quarter of a century ago. But boyfriend and girlfriend sounded too…well, juvenile to describe the rebooted romance we’d been carefully navigating this past year. But since I couldn’t figure out how else to refer to our relationship, it would have to do.

As I passed the next shop, Yoga Delight, I noticed my friend Summer Simmons seated guru-style on a mat, leading a morning class. I waved, and she wagged a finger, silently scolding me for my recent absence from meditation class. I wrinkled my nose and touched my watch, indicating that I simply didn’t have time. She pursed her lips, and I scooted off, making an internal vow to recommit. After all, the classes always improved my attitude. Why did I perpetually find ways to avoid them? Tomorrow, I said to myself. Or maybe Monday…

A few steps later, I paused in front of my photo gallery. My photo gallery, I repeated to myself. I’d opened the place last year after resigning from my career as an investigative photojournalist, and I still reveled in the undiluted thrill of what I’d created. I traced the words etched on the door: Sundance Studio, Callahan Cassidy, Photographer. 

I examined the window display, trying to assess it as a tourist would. In keeping with the village’s current Valentine’s Day motif, I’d selected a large canvas photo of two mule deer—a buck and a doe—nuzzling in a snowy meadow. A dozen red foil hearts framed the canvas, glittering as they swayed from silver strings affixed to the overhang. Cheesy, in my opinion, but everyone else in the world seemed enchanted by Valentine’s Day, so I’d felt an obligation to go along with the pack.

Next door, the bookstore with the clever moniker A Likely Story also embraced the V-Day concept, with its exhibit of romance novels and relationship self-help tomes. But instead of a warm, fuzzy response to the display, I wrestled with a spurt of unease. I attributed my negative reaction to the store’s owner, David Parisi, who’d recently become engaged to Tonya Stephens, my lifelong best friend. Everyone in town adored the charming Italian man, but I couldn’t let go of my vague, unexplainable misgivings. There was just something about him… I didn’t have time to fixate on David, though. Another peek at my watch showed me I was now officially late, so I scurried past the Fudge Factory without so much as a glance at the marshmallow-topped s’mores brownies.

Well, maybe one glance…

At six minutes past nine, I skidded to a halt in front of Rocky Mountain High and peered through the plate-glass window. My friend wasn’t among the smattering of customers—all tourists, I surmised from their designer sweaters and ski boots. I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t kept her waiting.

My cellphone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to read a text from Sam: Morning, beautiful. Thinking of you. How is your day? 

Smiling to myself, I moved to enter the coffee shop, but before I could grab the knob, the door slammed outward. A squatty, wide, Mack truck of a man in an expensive-looking navy blue parka plowed barreled out, striking my shoulder with enough force to jar the phone out of my hand.

Though the collision was clearly the stranger’s fault, I politely said, “Excuse me.” The man barely broke stride. “You’re lucky you didn’t make me spill this overpriced coffee,” he growled. “What is it with the people in this stupid town?”

I gaped. By the time a burning retort dropped onto my tongue, the man was already out of earshot, and I was left feeling angry and what was worse, weak.

I scooped up my phone and stomped into the shop, where the aromas of rich brewed coffee and sweet, yeasty pastries soothed my nerves. From behind the tile serving counter, Mrs. Finney, the shop’s proprietor, looked at me with concern.

“That boorish man practically trampled you, dear. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, shrugging out of my coat. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“The bloody wanker wasn’t kind enough to offer his name,” she said in her British accent. Everyone in the village knew the dialect was fake, but at this point, it was so deeply entrenched in her persona we’d be befuddled if she dropped it. “I’ve never seen him before, and I’ll be just as pleased to never see him again.” She leaned across the counter and lowered her voice. “If I were still with The Company, I’d consider ordering a covert op to teach that young man a lesson.”

I grinned. Mrs. Finney—a real live former CIA agent—had the stature of a curly-haired gray army tank trussed in a lavender pantsuit. I estimated her age to be late-sixties, but despite my well-honed skills as an interviewer, I’d been unable to get the eccentric woman to divulge specifics. Still, in the year we’d known each other, she’d served as protector, dispenser of wisdom, and above all, loyal friend.

I set my camera bag on the counter and settled onto a stool. “Well, no harm, no foul, I suppose. Maybe he’ll make it up to both of us by dropping wads of cash in our shops.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “One can hope—though he didn’t bother with a tip.” She inspected me and changed the subject. “Your cheeks are extra rosy, dear. Let’s get you warmed up.”

While she bustled around the silver coffee urns preparing my beverage, I stripped off my gloves. After a moment, she handed me a steaming paper cup of dark roast with a squirt of vanilla and a pinch of cinnamon, just the way I liked it. “Wrap your hands around this.”

I laced my fingers around the paper cup and lifted it to my nose, inhaling the steamy fragrance. My hands and cheeks tingled. “Ah, that’s nice.”

“You haven’t read the new adage.” In addition to her accent, Mrs. Finney was known for her sage axioms. She’d even made them a theme of her coffee shop, revealing a fresh one on her cups every few weeks. I read the printed inscription. “Bears are treated with respect because they demand it.”

“Love it,” I said. “Perhaps the giant who just ran me over could use an interview with one of our Rocky Mountain bears.”

Mrs. Finney’s attention shifted to a customer, who gestured from one of the bistro tables. As she bustled across the room to tend to the woman, I pulled off my knit ski cap and glanced in the mirror hanging on the wall. I grimaced at the sight. My cheeks were indeed rosy and my green eyes bright, but everything else about me appeared rumpled. I tugged at my wrinkled sweater and ran fingers through my shoulder length dark hair, trying to fluff some life back into it. Useless. In a mountainside town like Rock Creek Village, hat hair loomed high on the list of winter hazards—right up there with chapped lips and flaky skin. The challenge had been real when I was a teenager, but now, at forty-four, it was fast becoming a losing battle.

Mrs. Finney returned and lifted the cover off a glass pastry dome. With a set of tongs, she selected a cream cheese bear claw, placed it on a stoneware plate, and slid it in front of me. I tore off a bite with my teeth and wallowed in the rich sweetness. “Delicious, as always,” I said, licking my fingers. “Thank you. You are a genuine artist.”

She beamed. “I appreciate that, dear. And may I say the same about you? Three customers complimented my new photo display already this morning.”

I followed her gaze to the arrangement of canvas photos on the wall: winter landscapes of snowy mountains, a herd of elk drinking from the partially frozen creek, pine trees dappled with rays of sunshine. Beneath the photos, a discreet sign touted: On loan from Sundance Studio, Callahan Cassidy, Photographer.

In a rare burst of sentimentality, I reached across the counter and grasped the woman’s hand. “Mrs. Finney, I may not tell you often enough how much I appreciate you. Your support, your friendship…I’m just so glad you’re here. You mean so much to me.” 

Her face flushed a bit, and she wiped her hands on a towel. “I feel the same, dear. Now, enough mush. I noticed you scanning the room earlier. Are you waiting for someone?”

I nodded as I popped the last bite of bearclaw in my mouth. “Renata Sanchez asked me to meet her here at nine. Said she had an important topic to discuss. Very cryptic.”

“I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.”

“We’re not besties or anything. I don’t know her that well. She’s good friends with Jessica, though, so she’s joined our group get-togethers occasionally. And…” I leaned in conspiratorially. “No one’s informed me of this officially, but I suspect she and Ethan are seeing each other.”

Ethan MacGregor was Rock Creek Village High School’s business teacher, and also Sundance Studio’s part-time marketing guru. I hoped soon he’d be my full-time partner.

“She could certainly do worse.” Mrs. Finney took my plate and dropped the crumpled napkin onto it. “Her brother was here a short time ago. I must tell you, he seemed agitated.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shocker. When isn’t Detective Raul Sanchez agitated? That man expresses cheerfulness about as often as my pets decide to behave—once in a blue moon.”

Mrs. Finney chuckled. “Be that as it may, he’s turned out to be an excellent detective. I admit, at first I wasn’t certain about his aptitude, but I’ve been pleasantly—”

Just then, the coffee shop door banged open with such force it made me jump. A gust of wind swirled inside, along with a few errant snowflakes. In their wake, Renata burst across the threshold.

Her eyes traveled around the room, dark as storm clouds. When she spotted me, she marched over and plopped down on the stool next to mine. “I swear, if that man moves here for good, I’m going to kill him.” 

About Lori Roberts Herbst

Lori Roberts Herbst is the author of the Callie Cassidy Mystery series. Her debut novel, Suitable for Framing, won first place in the Murder and Mayhem category at the 2020 Chanticleer International Book Awards. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and serves as secretary of the North Dallas chapter. She is also a member of the national Guppy chapter and Mystery Writers of America. A former educator, Lori spent much of her life writing, editing, and psychoanalyzing. Through thirty years of teaching journalism, advising newspaper and yearbook staffs, instructing budding photographers, and counseling teenagers, she still managed to hang on to a modicum of sanity. Then she retired and assumed her third career: author.

Author Links: 

  Website: https://www.lorirobertsherbst.com 

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

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21039904.Lori_Roberts_Herbst Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lori-roberts-herbst

Purchase Links: 

  FROZEN IN MOTION: Preorder will not be available until Dec. 14. 

  DOUBLE EXPOSURE (book 2): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B094DRMSR9  

  SUITABLE FOR FRAMING (book 1): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B08R7XR3LG 

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

January 24 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

January 24 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog – SPOTLIGHT

January 24 – Christa Reads and Writes – REVIEW

January 25 – Mysteries with Character – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

January 25 – Baroness' Book Trove – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

January 25 – Christy's Cozy Corners - GUEST POST

January 26 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

January 26 – Books a Plenty Book Reviews – REVIEW

January 26 – My Journey Back – CHARACTER GUEST POST

January 27 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

January 27 – Ascroft, eh? – GUEST POST

January 27 – My Reading Journeys – REVIEW

January 28 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

January 28 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

January 28 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

January 29 – Reading Is My SuperPower – REVIEW

January 29 – I Read What You Write - REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST

January 29 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews - SPOTLIGHT

January 30 – BookishKelly2020 – SPOTLIGHT

January 30 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT

January 30 – Brianne's Book Reviews – REVIEW 

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Spindrifts by A-M Mawhiney Book Tour and Giveaway!

Spindrifts
A-M Mawhiney
Publication date: November 24th 2021
Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult

Racism, climate change, and violence are in the past. The new world values respect and collaboration with others. But are there secrets lurking in the shadows of the Land of Hope? What truth about the past is being covered up?

When fifteen-year-old Fania returns from Immersion, she is shattered to learn that the next phase of her education is at home with Alicia, her granny. She had hoped for something far grander that would prepare her for an important role with the Earth Project. Their two strong personalities clash as Fania begins to learn more about the past and her family’s role in it.

As Fania grows in confidence and power, she starts to wonder exactly what secrets Alicia is keeping in her underground lab. After Fania discovers the truth, she finds her calling: one that has the power to change everything.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

—

EXCERPT:

Fania’s Journal: An excerpt from Spindrifts by A-M Mawhiney © 2021

I’m supposed to write in my journal every day. Sure. Like that’s the best use of my time. They said it’d be a private place to think, but I’ve wondered about that. I can think in my head without writing my thoughts. Just in case, I always use my disconnected tablet for the real journal, encrypted with three protective codes and in a language I developed myself. I know this might be over the top, but I’ve felt better knowing no one can read my actual journal. So, people can read how excited I am about my apprenticeship, but privately I’m totally dissed. I really want to learn about people From Away, and instead I’m apprenticing with Granny, my great-grandmother, who’s spent most of her life close to home in her research laboratory, two miles down an ancient mine shaft. It used to be where they studied mysteries of the universe! How the heck did that work?

I’ve always loved Granny. I’ve felt as though we’ve had a special relationship, and I’ve missed spending time with her. I just never thought they’d give me a responsibility so far removed from what I really want to be doing.

Ezma told me I’ve many skills and a strong aptitude for analytical thinking. I know what that means. It means sitting in an underground lab every day for the rest of my life. I guess I wasn’t very good at hiding my feelings because Ezma felt she had to remind me what Granny does is very important. Then she asked me a curious question.

“Do you know what she does?”

Well, of course I do! I explained, “Granny is the researcher who found the serum. She said it was a fluke.”

That comment made Ezma laugh, hysterically almost. “Well, Fania, you’ll find there’s a lot you can learn from Alicia. I hope you’ll keep an open mind.”

When I boarded the transport to head home after two years at Immersion, my patch reminded me to change my timer back to the village’s schedule. The health patch is a misnomer; it’s actually an up-to-date example of bio-merged nanotechnology. This latest gen’s so far advanced compared to the primitive models my grandparents used when they were young—those things they wore on their wrists. Now the healer implants the technology at birth where it merges with our brainwaves. It has reciprocal transformational capabilities, but I’ve been told there are limitations so it can’t change the basic personality or natural abilities of anyone. The patch transmits and receives communications, monitors personal health data, and provides all my reading materials. Everyone in our territory has them, so far as I know.

Author Bio:

A-M Mawhiney was deeply moved by the events of 2020 and the cries from advocates fighting for equity and justice for people living precarious lives because of structural barriers and discrimination. As a former social worker and academic she has spent her career seeking ways to improve lives of marginalized learners through inclusive education for all students. Mawhiney has hope for a better future for us all. Her vision of what this might look like inspired her to write Spindrifts.

Anne-Marie lives in Sudbury, Ontario, in the territory of the Atikameksheng Anishnawbek in the Robinson-Huron Treaty Area, with Dave McGill and their canine companion, Charlie.

Website / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok

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Falling for The Suitor by Holly Kerr Book Tour and Giveaway!

Falling for The Suitor
Holly Kerr
(Suitor Science, #1)
Publication date: January 25th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

I never expected to fall for The Suitor.

I actually trip on the hem of my dress.

It wasn’t my idea to come on the reality show, because who really falls in love after twelve weeks? I’m not good at love… or being camera-ready 24/7. The other contestants know all about the First Date Rose, how to get The Suitor alone on a group date, and they all have a plan on how to best win his heart. It’s not going to be easy playing nice with them.

But when I meet The Suitor— Grayson Grant, former player on and off the field, and with the smile that can light up a city—it’s the spark between us that makes me forget all the reasons I didn’t want to come on the show.

I’m going to win this.

Unfortunately, twenty-five other women think the same thing.

Falling for The Suitor is the first in the new Suitor Science Series, a charmingly sweet, swoony, and laugh-out-loud romantic comedy full of sparks and power surges.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

One step, then another; a shuffle hop as a surge of excitement overshadows my nerves, and I grin in a foolish sort of way.

Closer up, I see I was wrong; he’s more than cute. And taller than I expected. The blond hair gleams in the light, the eyes—I think… blue—crinkle at the corners. He’s a younger Brad Pitt, with a little Chris Evans thrown in, and the easy charm of Chris Pratt. He’s all the Chrises rolled into one baseball-playing, suit-wearing, nicely shaved, really cute…

And then the way his gaze tracks my every move, his smile growing with my every step like he’s looking forward to this as much as I am, makes things tingle that haven’t tingled in a very long time.

Finally, I’m standing before The Suitor, as nervous as Cinderella at the ball. “Hi.” I take a deep breath and my smile widens. “Hi.”

I completely blank on his name.

Author Bio:

Holly Kerr is the author of fifteen chick-lit, romantic comedy, and women's fiction novels, but don't ask her to explain the differences in the genres. She grew up a farm girl but now calls Toronto home, where she lives with her three very tall children, following their sports exploits like any dutiful mother.

She's a lover of Marvel movies, Star Wars movies...really, any movies, and has a surprising amount of worthless pop culture info stored in her head. She likes oceans over mountains, tea over coffee, and can mix a darn fine dirty martini, with extra olives, of course.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Dior or Die by Laura E. Akers Book Blitz and Giveaway!

Dior or Die
Laura E. Akers
Publication date: January 22nd 2022
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Suspense

She’s survived dangerous missions for the government, but can she survive life among the rich?

Davia Glenn is the first woman on a covert paramilitary team until a mission goes deadly wrong. She inherits a fortune, moves to a wealthy community, and soon discovers the crazy under all that money. On a terrorist’s hit list, Davia must navigate her new life while dodging assassins.

Torn between two men and two worlds, Davia must decide her future— but this time, she wears haute couture instead of camouflage and combat boots.

If you love the grit of Jack Reacher and the fun of Stephanie Plum, one-click Dior or Die today for your next addicting, suspenseful mystery read.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Four men shot at me with automatic rifles.

I sat in a chair blindfolded, arms bound behind me with duct tape, and a gag stuffed in my mouth. The relentless gunfire battered my senses.

Control the mind-game, Davia.

Forcing my hands into tight balls, I leaned forward and arched my back, preparing to free myself. In response, a bullet cracked one of my chair’s legs, and I almost crashed to the ground.

This ordeal was a boys’ club welcome to the first woman assigned to the most elite covert paramilitary team in existence. Of course, the team wouldn’t greet me with candy and flowers, but this?

My face grew hot from suppressed fury as the rounds whizzed past unabated. I slowed my breathing. Four breaths in, four out.

Again.

Finally, there was silence.

The malignant perfume of gunfire burned my nostrils. I listened for the click of empty magazines dropped and replaced. Instead, booming laughter and the dull thud of men slapping each other’s backs echoed through the space.

“Let’s give Glenn some time to sit in her messed drawers.” It was James Warden, my team’s leader. When we met this morning at our training base in Virginia, he radiated Apex Alpha. Now, I amended it to Apex Asshat.

“We can tell the colonel we didn’t hit the hostage,” said another.

More guffaws.

After their voices drifted away, I renewed my efforts to break the bindings. Within minutes, I was loose. I spat the gag from my mouth and tore the blindfold from my eyes, temples throbbing. How long would it take my shattered hearing to return in full?

My location was a plywood shoot house with movable walls. Dummy targets riddled with bullet holes surrounded me, and spent brass casings blanketed the floor like a golden carpet. Crouching, I snuck to the door, flattened myself against the wall, and peeked out.

Another teammate, Savant, sat at a distant table under a canvas shade, headphones atop his mop of fair hair. Hunched over a laptop, he bopped in time to an unheard beat. Gunfire began at a nearby range.

The group had moved on.

Bending, I lifted the combat knife strapped to my right calf and noticed a bullet hole had pierced a cargo pocket. The round missed my leg by a fraction of an inch.

I was almost a victim of high-speed lead poisoning.

Jaw set, I crept forward and thrust the knife under Savant’s chin in case he wanted to continue the hazing. Complex surveillance images streamed across his laptop’s screen as heavy metal blared from the headphones I tugged off.

“Don’t move,” I hissed.

“Oh, hey, Davia.” He pointed toward the distant gunfire. “Have fun.”

He never looked up.

Dropping Savant’s headphones into his lap, I put my knife back in its sheath. At the weapons table, I selected a submachine gun.

Popping in filtered ear protection, I stalked out to the range. Let’s find the hyenas.

Four battle-hardened men turned in sync when I approached, their expressions ranging from surprised to annoyed at my unexpected appearance.

“Sorry, I’m late.” My voice was saccharine sweet, like I was tardy for a Sunday picnic.

“We wasn’t ’specting you at all,” said Hodge, our burly Texan medic. “You’re tougher than a one-eared alley cat.”

Most worked to hide smiles, but Warden scowled. “Careful with that gun,” he said. “I’ll show you how to use it in a sec.”

Show me? I trained for years on every weapon they used, and some they didn’t. Not pausing, I discharged all my ammo, disintegrating the bullseye of the target.

When I finished, teammate Ned tugged at his scruffy beard and said, “We should nickname you Bombshell, and not because you’re blonde.”

The men all laughed, except Warden.

FIREARMS PRACTICE CONCLUDED, we entered the primary building of the complex. Our boss, Colonel Streeter, kept an office in a nearby wing.

“Why isn’t Savant coming with us?” I asked Ned.

“He operates on a different plane than us mere mortals.” Besides his unkempt beard, Ned wore his brown hair in a hipster bun. Grooming rules did not apply to this unit.

A female aide who worked with Colonel Streeter beckoned to another team member, K. He put up a hand in acknowledgment. K resembled Idris Elba, but younger and buffer. They moved away down a side hall.

The rest of us turned into a room with a mat-lined floor. On one wall, racks held fighting sticks, knives of various sizes, and boxing gloves.

“Ned, you and H pair up. I’ll take on Bombshell,” Warden drawled, emphasis on the B. Ned and Hodge pulled on boxing gloves.

Warden handed me two twenty-eight-inch sticks, took two himself, and we faced off. At six-three, he had me by six inches.

It was Davia versus Goliath.

“Ready?” Warden’s full lips curled into a sneer.

“Ready to lay you out.”

He came at me and didn’t hold back, hitting with the power of a rhinoceros in a charge. Stepping fast to keep him from knocking me over, I blocked blow after blow. I pictured Batman bubbles over our heads: Bam! Pow! Krunch!

Warden made the men on the cover of Muscle & Fitness magazine look like featherweights. He was one hundred pounds heavier than me and sported gallon jug biceps. Our weapons were a mere blur until a searing thwack landed on my upper arm, and I cringed away.

“Give up?” Warden asked, driving me toward a corner.

“You. First.” I gasped, sucking wind.

Back up-Duck-Back up.

At the edge of the mat, our sticks clanged. Cornered, I did a quick roll and slammed one of my bars against the back of Warden’s knees.

He crashed to the floor.

Timber!

A giant hand caught my right ankle and jerked.

I fell hard on my face.

Kicking free, I sprang up, but Warden did the same. Rivulets of sweat coursed from his close-cropped, dark hair and down his face. We circled each other, and I grinned as he also fought to catch his breath.

“Let’s go weaponless,” he grunted. “Fine.” We tossed our sticks aside.

We went at each other in an all-out grappling fight, working through an entire catalog of wrestling, martial arts, and street fighting tactics. Kyle Kavanagh, my South Dakota neighbor, and his myriad of deadly friends, had drilled me relentlessly through the years. I remembered their admonition: The bigger they are, the harder they— Warden latched onto my shoulder and tossed me to the ground.

His reinforced steel body landed on top of me, and the air blasted from my lungs.

Before he could trap my arms against the mats, I thrust a hand past his groin and wrapped my arm around his upper thigh. He went still for a split-second, hyper-aware I was a woman near his most prized and vulnerable possessions.

To make up for his momentary pause, he grabbed for my hair, but it was too short. He rolled over in an instant, clamped an arm around my chest, and spoke close to my ear. “You don’t belong here.”

“Says you.” I walloped him in the midsection with an elbow, leaped sideways, and broke away.

We jumped to our feet, circling again, checking for weaknesses.

My stamina hit the edge of empty. If I didn’t do something soon, this fight would be over. Warden lunged for me, and I caught his forearm. Using the last of my strength, I flipped him to the ground and trapped one of his knees with my legs.

“Call it quits?” I drove his joint to an unnatural angle, grinding my hips against his bulk.

Warden growled with frustration but didn’t give up. He bucked against me like a fly trapped in a spider’s web fighting for its life. After an age, he tapped out. I released him, falling back on the mat, drained. He untangled himself and got to his feet.

“Here.” He reached down to help me up. I took his hand, and he yanked me within inches of his face. Our eyes locked.

He held me much longer than necessary, then let go.

“Welcome to the team,” he said and walked away.

Author Bio:

I grew up in a small town in Southern California. My early writing career began when I created a neighborhood newspaper, won an American Legion essay award in 8th grade, and became editor of my high school newspaper.

At age 24, I became a prosecutor for the San Diego County District Attorney's office. I handled high-profile murder, rape, domestic violence, and gang cases. When I person I convicted made death threats, I trained in self-defense and weapons with a former black-ops agent. This led to the creation of my protagonist, Davia Glenn.

I'm a Distinguished Toastmaster and like to advocate for suicide prevention, elder abuse prevention, and fighting sex crimes against children.

This all sounds serious and achievement driven, but I also enjoy traveling, taking photos, and Korean dramas. I have two cats and a great guy.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok

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Pierce Her by Kelly Finley Book Tour and Giveaway!

Pierce Her
Kelly Finley
(Come for Me, #1)
Publication date: January 27th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

She’s the hero. He plays one. That’s why falling in love could be the biggest—and best—mistake of her life…

Former Marine Charlie Ravenel devotes her life to protecting women. A job that’s left its mark on her—body and soul. When she’s not working, she’s safe hiding in the shadows. Alone. But when a young celebrity finds herself tormented by a dangerous stalker, Charlie vows to keep her safe.

One problem. She’ll just have to avoid her client’s sexy co-star—the alluring one who seems so intent on breaking down Charlie’s defenses…

No one really knows Daniel Pierce. They think they do. Millions want him. But no one knows what’s beneath his heroic veneer. He doesn’t let them. Until her.

Charlie, with her arousing smile and razor blade tongue, attracts him like no other. He’d do anything to ease her pain, to make her his. How can he lure her into giving him a chance?

If Charlie has any hope of overcoming the demons of her past in time to save the girl, she’ll have to trust her gut…and Daniel. But what if trust is a luxury she just can’t afford?

PIERCE HER, Book One in the COME FOR ME series, is a steamy, romantic suspense novel featuring a kickass heroine who just happens to fall for Hollywood’s sexiest man alive.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Charlie

Relief dropped the tension in her shoulders when she turned to unpack the rifle. She had to turn away. Away from Daniel Pierce to and her breath.

What the holy fuck was that, Charlie Girl?

Her body howled awake at his handshake. At his touch. The first time in six years it had responded to any man.

As a bodyguard, the sets she worked on accustomed her to being surrounded by beautiful people, men and women. She had seen, hell fought off, how such beauty was as much a burden as a blessing for many of them. She learned to treat them like nobodies. Or anybodies. It was one of the many reasons they trusted her.

But damn. Daniel Pierce, famously the sexiest man alive, possessed so much exquisite physical DNA it required a full audit. Sure, she had seen him plastered across covers and screens. A sudden flush fired up her cheeks for the solo plea‐ sure she gave herself at the sight of his photo a few times in the past. But that was a screen, a fleeting fantasy. This was him, palpable and in person. And oh, where his staggering bounty of beauty stopped, his sexy charisma raced, lapping her body for the win.

Damn, Charlie Girl. She adjusted the scope on the rifle. Slow your roll. You’ve got a job to do. A girl at risk.

And she’d fucking asked for this. Asked Anders where the cast hung out. Wanting to meet each one of them. Off set. In a setting where their guard was down. In a setting where a stalker may betray himself.

She wasn’t wheels down in Madrid for twenty-four hours, kissing her relaxing trip to Miami with Juliette goodbye, before she found herself jumping into the damn deep end of this job. Right into the ocean of Daniel Pierce.

And it was raging wet.

Over six feet of hulking muscles wrapped down a body that famously took discipline and sacrifice to achieve. Black hair fell in soft waves, framing aqua eyes as deep as a cenote, enticing anyone to jump in. Stubble blanketed a square jaw and deep cleft chin. Pillow lips formed a perfect soft bow, almost feminine, until they flashed a white-hot, hungry smile.

He was cast as Zeus, the god of gods who had no equal, many enemies and could bed any woman in a comic book series turned movie franchise. Two films had dominated the box office in the blockbuster series. A third was rumored. And everywhere Daniel Pierce went, he was “Zeus” to his fans. Charlie read how many followers and press also branded him— “Sex God.”

Careful, Charlie Girl. With a look like that, you’ll have a lot more to protect than a girl.

Author Bio:

Kelly Finley is fiction author of contemporary romances featuring bada** women and grown-a** men. She lives in the Carolinas with her husband and family. A rebel with many causes, she fancies black leather, dirty jokes, and smart mouths.

Thrilled by a flipped script and ticked off by women portrayed as weak, she noticed how many steamy, sexy heroines were missing, particularly from suspense and military romance. Her friends shared the frustration and told her to practice what she has taught for twenty years. Her books feature characters we champion and love—ones with shameless heat, brave hearts, and whip-smart minds.

She's most likely at her keyboard right now, putting the next heroine on the page.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Pinterest / Instagram

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Ice Cold Murder (Charlie Kingsley Mysteries) by Michele Pariza Wacek Book Tour and Giveaway!

Ice Cold Murder (Charlie Kingsley Mysteries) by Michele Pariza Wacek

About Ice Cold Murder

 

Ice Cold Murder (Charlie Kingsley Mysteries) 

Cozy Mystery 2nd in Series 

Love-Based Publishing (January 25, 2022) 

Number of Pages ~250 

ASIN ‏ : ‎ B09L1JN8J3

When Charlie agrees to accompany her friend Claire to her late grandmother's reading of the will, she assumes she is simply there for moral support.

She doesn't expect things to get so ... strange.

 

It’s odd enough that it takes place over a weekend, but that’s just the beginning ...

 

They also need to stay in Claire's grandma's supposedly haunted house with Claire's estranged family.

 

Things get even worse when a huge storm snows them in. No electricity, no phone, and no way out.

 

Throw a dead body into the mix, and there’s no question it’s now the world’s worst family gathering. Ever.

 

At least Charlie brought lots of tea, which she's going to need as she races to solve this closed-circle mystery before her friend’s dysfunctional family get-together results in anyone else being murdered.

 

Meet Charlie. Better known as “Aunt Charlie” from the award-winning Secrets of Redemption series. She's back, making teas and solving cases in this funny, twisty, cozy mystery series set in the 1990s in Redemption, Wisconsin.

 

About Michele Pariza Wacek

When Michele was 3 years old, she taught herself to read because she wanted to write stories so badly. It took some time (and some detours) but she does spend much of her time writing stories now. Mystery stories to be exact, ranging from psychological thrillers to cozies, with a dash of romance and supernatural thrown into the mix. If that wasn't enough, she also hosts a virtual book club you can check out and join (for free!) at MPWNovels.com.

Michele holds a double major in English and Communications from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Currently, she lives in the mountains of Prescott, Arizona with her husband Paul and southern squirrel hunter Cassie.

Author Links 

Website - https://mpwnovels.com/ 

Facebook - facebook.com/michelepwauthor 

Linked In linkedin.com/in/michelepw 

Twitter - twitter.com/michelepw 

Instagram - instagram.com/themichelepw 

  Purchase Link - Amazon  

 TOUR PARTICIPANTS 

January 24 – The Book Diva's Reads – GUEST POST

January 25 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT

January 25 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

January 26 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

January 27 – The Mystery Section – SPOTLIGHT

January 27 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – REVIEW

January 28 – I Read What You Write – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

January 29 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

January 30 – Cozy Up With Kathy – AUTHOR  INTERVIEW 

January 31 – StoreyBook Reviews – GUEST POST

February 1 – Mysteries with Character – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

February 1 – Christy's Cozy Corners – REVIEW, GUEST POST

February 2 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT

February 3 – Here's How It Happened – REVIEW

February 3 – MJB Reviewers – REVIEW

February 4 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

February 5 – Nellie's Book Nook – REVIEW, CHARACTER INTERVIEW

February 6 – BookishKelly2020 – SPOTLIGHT 

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