Death at the Manor by Katharine Schellman Book Tour and Giveaway!

 

Death at the Manor

by Katharine Schellman

August 8 - September 2nd, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

The tortured spirits of the dead haunt a Regency-era English manor—but the true danger lies in the land of the living in the third installment in the Lily Adler mysteries, perfect for fans of Deanna Raybourn.

Regency widow Lily Adler is looking forward to spending the autumn away from the social whirl of London. When she arrives in Hampshire with her friends, the Carroways, she doesn’t expect much more than a quiet country visit and the chance to spend time with her charming new acquaintance, Matthew Spencer.

But something odd is afoot in the small country village. A ghost has taken up residence in the Belleford manor, a lady in grey who wanders the halls at night, weeping and wailing. Half the servants have left in terror, but the family seems delighted with the notoriety that their ghost provides. Intrigued by this spectral guest, Lily and her party immediately make plans to visit Belleford.

They arrive at the manor the next morning ready to be entertained—only to find that tragedy has struck. The matriarch of the family has just been found killed in her bed.

The dead woman’s family is convinced that the ghost is responsible. Lily is determined to learn the truth before another victim turns up—but could she be next in line for the Great Beyond?

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Mystery
Published by: Crooked Lane Books
Publication Date: August 9th 2022
Number of Pages: 352
ISBN: 1639100784 (ISBN13: 9781639100781)
Series: Lily Adler Mystery #3
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Bookshop.org

Read an excerpt:

As they walked, Mr. Wright fell in step next to Ofelia. “Have you ever seen a ghost before, Lady Carroway?”

“I have not,” she replied, as polite as ever in spite of the hint of skepticism in her voice. “Pray, what does it look like?”

“Like a lady in white and gray,” he said, and Lily was surprised to see how serious his expression was. His frivolous, unctuous manner had dropped away, and he shivered a little as he gestured toward the windows. “No one has seen her face. The first time I saw her she was standing right there, bathed in moonlight, when I was returning from a late night in the village. And my sister saw her in the early morning only two days ago. Some nights, we have heard her wails echoing through the halls, even when she is nowhere to be seen.”

Lily exchanged a look with her aunt, who seemed surprised by the detail in Thomas Wright’s story and the quaver in his voice. Either he believed wholeheartedly in his ghost, or he was putting on a very convincing performance for his audience.

“And what does she do?” Ofelia asked, sounding a little more somber now, as they drew

to a halt in front of the windows. The small party looked around the corner of the hall. It was unremarkable enough, with several large paintings, and a tall, handsome curio cabinet standing in an alcove. An old-fashioned tapestry hung across one wall, though it was worn and faded enough that it was hard to tell exactly what picture it had originally presented.

“Nothing, so far,” Mr. Wright said, a sort of forced theatricality in his voice that left Lily puzzled.

She had expected, based on what Mr. Spencer had said the night before, to find an eager showman in Thomas Wright, ready to bask in the attention of curious neighbors, not a true believer in the supernatural. Glancing at Mr. Spencer out of the corner of her eye, she thought he looked equally puzzled.

“She stands and weeps, or floats around the hall and wails. Usually, if someone tries to draw close, she vanishes. But last month—” Mr. Wright’s voice dropped a little. He still glanced

uneasily toward the other end of the hall, as if momentarily distracted or looking for someone, before quickly returning his attention to his audience. “Last month she became angry when one of our housemaids came upon her unexpectedly. The lady in gray pursued her down the hall, wailing. Poor Etta was so scared that she fell down the stairs in her haste to get away. That

was when our servants started leaving.”

“I trust the housemaid has recovered?” Mr. Spencer asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“She has,” Mr. Wright replied. “But no one has tried to approach the lady in gray again. We think she wishes to be left alone.”

“Well,” Lily said, attempting a return to lightness, “as far as ghosts go, that sounds reasonable enough. I confess I feel that way often enough myself, especially after too many busy nights in a row.”

Ofelia, who had been looking a little wide-eyed, giggled, and Mr. Spencer quickly covered a cough that might have been a chuckle.

Mr. Wright scowled, his expression halfway between unease and displeasure. “I take it you are not a woman who believes in ghosts, Mrs. Adler?”

“I have never had the opportunity to find out whether or not I am,” Lily replied. “The homes I have lived in have all been stubbornly unhaunted.”

“For your sake, madam, I hope they remain that way,” Mr. Wright said. There was an unexpected note of resignation in his voice as he added, “It is not a comfortable thing to live with.”

“I would have thought you to be fond of yours, sir,” Lily said. “If you dislike her so, why go to the trouble of showing visitors around and telling them the story?”

Mr. Wright smiled, some of the showman creeping back into his manner. “Because you are here, dear ladies. And how could I resist such a beautiful audience?”

“Tell me, has your family any idea who this lady in gray might be?” Lily’s aunt asked politely.

He nodded, his voice dropping even further, and they all reflexively drew closer to hear what he was saying. “We each have our own theory, of course,” he said. “I believe it is my father’s great-aunt, Tabitha, whose bedroom was just this way. If you would care to see the spot?” He held out his arm to Ofelia, who took it. Mr. Wright, engrossed in his story once more, turned to lead them down the closest passage. “Tabitha died there some fifty years ago, of a broken heart, they say, after news arrived of the death of her betrothed in the colonies—”

His story was suddenly cut off by screaming. Not a single shriek of surprise or dismay, but a cry that seemed to go on without ceasing. Thomas Wright froze, the genial smile dropping from his face in shock. “Selina?” he called.

The screaming continued, growing more hysterical. Dropping Ofelia’s arm, he ran toward the sound, which was coming from the far hallway, past the stairs. The others, stunned into stillness, stared at each other, unsure what to do.

“I think it’s Miss Wright,” Mr. Spencer said, all traces of merriment gone from his face. “Wait here—I shall see if they need any assistance.” He made to go after, but Thomas Wright was already returning, rushing down the hall next to another man, who was carrying the screaming woman.

“The parlor, just next to you, Spencer!” Mr. Wright called. “Open the door!”

Mr. Spencer, the closest to the door, flung it open, and the hysterical woman was carried in. She was laid on a chaise longue in the middle of the dim little room, Mr. Spencer stepping forward to help settle her as the man who had carried her stepped back. Lily, glancing

around as she and the other ladies crowded through the door, thought it looked like a space reserved for the family’s private use, which made sense on an upper floor. Thomas Wright knelt next to the hysterical woman for a moment, clasping her hands.

“Selina?” he said loudly. But she kept screaming, her eyes wide and darting about the room without seeing anything. Judging by the round cheeks and dark hair they both shared, Lily thought she must be his sister. Whether they had other features in common was hard to tell when Selina Wright was in the middle of hysterics.

“Miss Wright?” Matthew Spencer tried giving her shoulders a shake. “You must stop this at once!”

But she clearly could not hear either of them. Thomas Wright took a deep breath and looked grim as, with a surprising degree of practicality, he slapped her across the face.

The screams stopped abruptly, her blank expression resolving into one of terror before her eyes latched on her brother. Her face crumpled in misery. “Oh, Thomas!” she sobbed, gasping for breath.

He gave her shoulders a little shake. “Selina, stop this—you must tell me what happened.” But she only shook her head, clutching at his coat with desperate fists and dropping her head against his shoulder, her weeping shaking them both. Mr. Wright turned to the servant who had carried his sister. “Isaiah, what happened to her?”

Isaiah was a young Black man with very short, curly hair and broad shoulders. His plain, dark clothing marked him clearly as a servant, though it was nothing so formal as the livery that

would have been worn in a great house. His wide stance spoke of confidence, and the easy way that Thomas Wright addressed him indicated long service and familiarity.

But there was no confidence on the manservant’s face as he hesitated, gulping visibly and shaking his head. His eyes were wide, and he stumbled over his words as he tried to answer, either unsure how to respond or not wanting to. “It’s . . . it’s Mrs. Wright, sir. She didn’t open her door when we knocked, and Miss Wright . . . she asked me to open it, since no one has the key . . . and she was there, sir—Mrs. Wright. She was there but she wasn’t moving. There was nothing we could do, but there was no one else there what could have done it. She’s dead, sir,” he finished in a rush. “Mrs. Wright is dead. She was killed in the night.”

Beside her, Lily heard Ofelia gasp, though she didn’t turn to look at her friend. Mr. Spencer looked up, his dark eyes wide as he met Lily’s from across the room. She stared back at him, frozen in shock, unable to believe what she had just heard.

“Killed?” Thomas Wright demanded, his voice rising with his own disbelief and his arms tightening around his sister.

“It killed her, Thomas,” Selina Wright said, raising her head at last. Now that her hysterics had faded, her cheeks had gone ashen with fear. “There was no one else who could have entered that room. The lady in gray killed our mother.”

***

Excerpt from Death at the Manor by Katharine Schellman. Copyright 2022 by Katharine Schellman. Reproduced with permission from Katharine Schellman. All rights reserved.

Katharine Schellman is a former actor, one-time political consultant, and now the author of the Lily Adler Mysteries and the Nightingale Mysteries. Her debut novel, The Body in the Garden, was one of Suspense Magazine’s Best Books of 2020 and led to her being named one of BookPage’s 16 Women to Watch in 2020. Her second novel, Silence in the Library, was praised as “worthy of Agatha Christie or Rex Stout.” (Library Journal, starred review) Katharine lives and writes in the mountains of Virginia in the company of her husband, children, and the many houseplants she keeps accidentally murdering.

Catch Up With Katharine Schellman:
KatharineSchellman.com
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BookBub - @katharineschellman
Instagram - @katharinewrites
Twitter - @katharinewrites
Facebook - @katharineschellman

 

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Red Rain by @larabern10 Book Blitz and Giveaway! #RedRain #LaraBernhardt #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

Red Rain
Lara Bernhardt

Publication date: August 30th 2022
Genres: Women’s Fiction

A bittersweet story of friendship and overcoming grief from a critically acclaimed author.

Olivia Montag is a professor who doesn’t have all the answers. The devastating loss of a child ended her marriage, and she’s been overlooked for a job promotion one time too many. Not sure what comes next, she leaves it all behind and volunteers to teach English to schoolchildren in India.

Ten thousand miles away, she connects with fellow volunteers and finds purpose in teaching. Until one by one the girls in her classes stop showing up. Then she meets Mukesh, an Indian man with a heart for invention, who may be the only one who can help her students. This is her chance to impact real change, even if that means trusting new friendships and her own instincts.

It turns out, there might be strength in asking for help, and embracing a painful past may clear the way for a brighter future. Sometimes in the darkest storms, you can choose to dance in the rain.

Eat, Pray, Love meets Best Exotic Marigold Hotel in this poignant but uplifting story of finding your purpose.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Olivia Montag questioned her sanity. Anyone she’d shared her plans with had questioned it for months now, some with raised eyebrows, skeptical silence, and shrugs as if to say, “If that’s what you want.” Some had opted for a more straightforward approach and outright bursts of, “Have you lost your mind?” But she’d brushed them all aside, reassuring them—and herself—that she knew what she was doing. She needed this. She’d read Eat, Pray, Love. This was how people found themselves again after their lives fell apart.

Until this moment, she’d remained stubbornly convinced she was right and completely ignored the naysayers. Excitement had buoyed her steps as she’d boarded the plane to leave, Mom giving one last look of concern as she waved goodbye. The thrill of adventure and the certainty she was embarking on a life-empowering trip of a lifetime (and perhaps delirium brought on by lack of sleep) got her through the thirty-six-hour journey, including transfers and layovers, to New Delhi, India.

She’d slept most of several days, enjoying the exotic newness of it all when awake, slowly adjusting her day/night cycle. Watching flocks of green parrots fly overhead as she soaked up tropical sun by the pool of her five-star luxury hotel, she’d breathed deeply and congratulated herself, awash in the knowledge she’d been correct. This was exactly what she’d needed. A fresh start, halfway around the globe, as far from her previous surroundings as she could possibly run.

Now, stepping off the rusted-out, rattletrap bus that brought her from Kochi, Kerala, after a long-delayed, nearly five-hour flight from New Delhi, and clutching her single bag of possessions, she entertained the notion that perhaps she should have listened to the naysayers—at least a little bit.

The crowded bus station, constructed of bare concrete and worn from years of hard use, bustled with people. Most of them appeared to be running hours behind schedule, and the spot she occupied apparently intersected with everyone’s trajectories, judging by the way they all jostled and bumped her.

If her ex-husband could see her now. She could picture the look of disgust and the head shake that had become such a familiar sight the last few years. If she’d done something really stupid, he might also roll his eyes. Yes, this adventure probably would’ve earned an eye roll along with the head shake. And his running commentary about what smart people did and didn’t do. “Smart people don’t just run off to India,” she could hear him say. “Especially with no idea where they’re going or how they’ll get there. That’s just not smart.” The longer she stood there, lost and wondering how long she should stand in the bus station watching more competent people en route to their destinations before seeking help, the more she thought she deserved her ex’s scorn.

Lara Bernhardt is a Pushcart-nominated writer, editor, and audiobook narrator. She is Editor-in-Chief of Balkan Press and also publishes a literary magazine, Conclave. Twice a finalist for the Oklahoma Book Award for Best Fiction, she writes supernatural suspense and women’s fiction. You can follow her on all the socials @larawells1 on Twitter and @larabern10 on Facebook, BookBub, and Instagram.

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River of Ashes by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor Book Tour, Review and Giveaway!

 

River of Ashes

by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor

August 1-31, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

*Apple’s Most Anticipated Books for Summer in Mysteries & Thrillers*

SOME TRUTHS ARE BETTER KEPT SECRET. SOME SECRETS ARE BETTER OFF DEAD.

Along the banks of the Bogue Falaya River, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river. And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux. The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Star quarterback. Handsome. Charming. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch. He is also a psychopath.

A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the haunted abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize. As the victim toll mounts, it becomes clear that someone must stop Beau Devereaux. And that someone will pay with their life.

River of Ashes is a Southern Gothic, Psychological Thriller inspired by true events in the vein of V.C. Andrews with elements of Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn and You by Caroline Kepnes. River of Ashes addresses social issues including sexual violence and bullying.

Praise for River of Ashes:

"River of Ashes offers an inside look into the mind of a psychopath—a cautionary tale that the scariest monsters are the ones you know but never suspect."

Pearry Teo, PhD; Award-Winning Director of The Assent, Executive Producer of Cloud Atlas

"A psychological portrait akin to Lord of the Flies."

Midwest Book Review

"If Gillian Flynn and Bret Easton Ellis had a book baby, it would be River of Ashes."

~Booktrib

Book Details:

Genre: Southern Gothic / Psychological Thriller / Coming-of-Age
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication Date: August 2nd 2022
Number of Pages: 284
ISBN: 1645480984 (ISBN13: 9781645480983)
Series: St. Benedict #1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | IndieBound

Read an excerpt:

Leslie turned off Main Street and headed along the single-lane road. The storefronts gave way to homes with colorful gardens and oaks draped with tendrils of Spanish moss. Then the houses grew sparse and disappeared as greenery hugged the side of the road. Leslie slowed to avoid a pothole and heard the rush of the Bogue Falaya River through the open windows.

The trees thinned, revealing the two stone spires of The Abbey. Apprehension snaked through her as she pictured Beau, her sister, and all the unsettling things she associated with the derelict church.

A wall of dense red buckeye bushes swaying in the breeze shrouded the road. Leslie drove through an opening someone carved out long ago. A cleared lot lay hidden beyond the dense hedge, surrounded by thick pines and oaks, with paths leading down a steep embankment to the river’s edge.

Leslie got out of the car, listening to the sweet refrain of birds in the trees. “No one’s here today.”

“It’s still too early. Everybody from school likes to come after dark.” Derek led her to a pine-straw-covered path and to the shore of the rushing river.

Something moved in the dense underbrush. Leslie walked ahead, trying to get a better look. “What’s that?”

She crossed several broken branches until she stumbled on something nestled in the foliage. The stench of rotting flesh hit her nose. She gagged and slowed to a stop.

“Wait, be careful.” Derek swept aside a few leafy twigs to get a better look.

Flies covered the bloated belly of a white-tailed deer. Deep grooves slashed into what remained of the deer’s neck. The poor animal’s hindquarters appeared torn away.

Leslie crept closer. “What could do such a thing?”

Derek took her hand and backed out of the brush. “I bet it was the wild dogs.”

Leslie let him lead her away from the stench. “What wild dogs?”

He stopped outside of the brush. “They’re around here. A couple of weeks ago, Mom said some hunters came in the diner and reported seeing them.”

“Where did they come from?” Leslie’s voice shook.

Derek guided her to a path curving down a long slope. The roar of the river grew louder.

“There are lots of stories. I heard they were left behind when the monks abandoned the place. Legend has it that when they appear, death is near.”

A shudder ran through her.

Derek tugged Leslie’s hand. “Come on.”

The path widened, and a beach came into view. The outcropping of white sand had a collection of green picnic tables, red barrel trash cans, and fire pits along the river’s edge. Around the beach, thick brush covered the shore with limbs from pine trees dipping into the water. The sun sparkled on the gentle waves.

Leslie followed him along the shoreline until they came to a rusted iron gate with a No Trespassing sign secured to it. The sign, decorated with crosses and swirls, marked the entrance to The Abbey grounds. Stepping through the open gate, she peered up at the imposing structure.

Two spires of white limestone, shaped like the tip of a sword, cut into the blue sky. A structure of red brick and limestone, the front windows and doors secured with loose scraps of plywood, sat in the middle of a field of high grass. The squat stone building of cloisters behind The Abbey remained intact. The Benedictine monks, who had run the seminary and were responsible for the preparation of future priests, demolished the dormitories, refectory, and library after they abandoned the site. The rest remained because, in the South, it was considered bad luck to tear down churches.

“Some place, huh?” Derek let go of her hand and ventured across the high grass.

A wave of panic shot through Leslie.

The grounds, unkempt after years of neglect, were a hodgepodge of weeds, overgrown trees, and vines.

Why would people come here at night?

“You ever wonder why those monks just up and left?” Leslie was uncomfortable with the eerie quiet. Even the birds had stopped singing. “Everyone says they got a better offer from the seminary in New Orleans, but it seems funny a bunch of people abandoned the place for no reason.”

Derek parted a thick pile of tall grass with his shoe. “My mom told me it was falling apart when she was a kid, and the Archdiocese didn’t have the money to fix it. So, they packed up the school and sent the monks and all the staff to New Orleans.”

“I read once that the structure dates back to the early 1800s, when the Devereaux family built it as a private church.” Leslie eyed the empty belfry atop one of the square-shaped towers. “You’d think they’d want to save it.”

Derek nudged her with his elbow. “Maybe the ghost drove them away.”

Beau’s tale had been in the back of her mind the whole time, but Derek’s comment spooked the crap out of her. “By ghost, do you mean the lady in white?”

“Yep.” He scanned the land around them. “They say she appears when the moon is full or during storms.”

The thought of being alone in such a disturbing place terrified her. “Have you ever seen the ghost?”

Derek searched the thick foliage ahead of them. “Nah. I’ve never seen anything.”

Granite steps appeared as they drew near the entrance.

Leslie kicked herself for letting him talk her into coming to this place. “What about the wild dogs? Have you seen them around The Abbey?”

“Not to worry, love, I’ll protect you from ghosts, wild dogs, and Beau Devereaux.” He climbed the steps, encouraging her to join him. “But I have to draw the line at your mother. There’s no way I’m taking her on in a fight.”

On the porch, beneath the cracked and chipped stone arch above the doors, she waited while Derek wrestled with the plywood covering the entrance. Despite the creep factor, the lush green trees surrounding them had a soothing effect. Leslie breathed in the fresh pine scent and mossy aroma of the tall grass. Then a fly zipped past her face.

Thud.

She turned and discovered Derek had pushed a large piece of plywood securing the door out of the way, leaving a nice-sized gap to crawl through.

“How did you do that?”

Derek held the plywood to the side for her. “The loose boards have been rigged to open easily.”

Leslie dipped her head and looked through the doorway. “You sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t, love.”

His smile won over her fears.

Once inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Pinpoints of light shone on a floor covered with clumps of debris. In the roof, thousands of holes, some big and some small, littered the space between the bare beams where parts of plaster had fallen away. Birds’ nests of light-colored hay and twigs nestled against blackish beams and shadowy eaves, creating a patchwork design on the ceiling. It reminded Leslie of the quilt her grandmother had made for her as a child.

Derek appeared, shining a beam of light on the floor.

She pointed at the flashlight. “Where did you get that?”

“Me and the guys have been here a few times. We’ve stashed stuff around the place. We even have sleeping bags and water bottles socked away.”

Here she was a nervous wreck while his friends had turned it into their personal campground. Leslie’s skin crawled at the idea of spending the night in such a place. “I don’t know why you guys come here.”

He took her hand, and the beam bounced on the dusty floor. “I don’t get why you’re so freaked out. It’s just an old building. There’s nothing sinister about it.”

Beau’s words about taking her to The Abbey sent a shiver down her spine. Any girl would be at his mercy in such a place. She questioned her sister’s choices, knowing she’d been there with Beau.

Derek swung the light across the floor, shining it on dozens of rotted pews, leaves, twigs, crumbled plaster pieces from the ceiling, and skeletons of dead birds. “Lots of animals use this place as shelter. I’ve seen possums, raccoons, deer, and once, I swear I saw a black leopard running out the back.”

Leslie became even more uneasy about being in the building. “You wouldn’t happen to have a shotgun in your stash.”

“The animals don’t bother me, just the people.”

Their footfalls echoed through the vast structure as they ventured farther. Leslie kept expecting someone or something to jump out from the shadows. Her only distraction was the intricate carvings atop the arches and the paintings on the walls. Men and angels exchanged timid glances as rays of light from parting clouds shined down.

Paintings of Noah and the flood, Adam and Eve, and other Genesis stories were barely visible on the white plaster covering the arches along the central aisle. In one spot, where the roof remained intact, she could make out the image of Moses holding the Ten Commandments. His eyes stood out the most. It was like they carried the burning wrath of God.

Shivering, Leslie looked ahead to a white archway marking the entrance to the altar. The gleam of the limestone appeared pristine. She got closer to the most sacred part of the old church, and her sense of dread rose. She spun around to face the scattered, rotting pews behind them.

“What is it?” Derek asked, taking her hand.

His voice rattled inside the hollows of the church, adding to her anxiety. They stood under the circular dome where the altar had once been, and then a low growl came from a shadowy corner.

The air left her lungs. Her senses heightened. Seconds ticked by while she listened for other sounds. “Tell me you heard that.”

Derek raised his finger to his lips and nodded to a door on his left.

***

Excerpt from River of Ashes by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor. Copyright 2022 by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor. Reproduced with permission from Vesuvian Books. All rights reserved.

Alexandrea Weis

Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is an IPPY Award-Winning author, advanced practice registered nurse, and wildlife rehabber who was born and raised in the French Quarter. She has taught at major universities and worked with victims of sexual assault, abuse, and mental illness in a clinical setting at many New Orleans area hospitals. She is a member of the International Thriller Writers Organization and Horror Writers Association. The Strand Magazine said, “Alexandrea Weis is one of the most talented authors around, and in a short time her novels are destined to stand along with authors such as Stephen King, Gillian Flynn, Joyce Carol Oates, and Jeffery Deaver.”

Catch Up With Alexandrea Weis:
AlexandreaWeis.com
StBenedictSeries.com
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BookBub - @AlexandreaWeis
Instagram - @AlexandreaWeis
Twitter - @AlexandreaWeis
Facebook - @AuthorAlexandreaWeis

 Lucas Astor

Author Lucas Astor is an award-winning author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but next door behind a smiling face. Astor currently lives outside of Nashville, TN.

Catch Up With Lucas Astor:
LucasAstor.com
Instagram - @lucasastorauthor

My Thoughts

River of Ashes by Alexandrea Weis and Lucas Astor takes place in Lousiana, with gothic undertones. It is a story about teenagers that attend St. Benedict High School. Nothing unusual about most of the teenagers in the story. They love their football and partying on the shores of Bogue Falaya River. 

Leslie and Dawn are identical twins but looks are all that they share. They are opposite in every way possible. Beau Devereaux is dating Dawn but really wants Leslie, he is obsessed with her. He will do anything that he can to get her. including murder. On the surface, Beau seems like the perfect teenage boy. Star of the football team, well-liked by his teammates. He has a string of possible dates that all want to be with him but he still wants what he can't have, Leslie. He comes from a prominent family with a 200-year-old history including a ghost.

There is an abanded abbey, a former seminary on the banks of the river, where the teens love to go and party. Believe it or not, Beau is not a drinker but he is the procurer of alcohol for his friends. Dawn loves to party with Beau, she is jealous of her sister, probably because Leslie is smarter and knows what she wants out of life. She has a steady boyfriend and is happy with that. She hates Beau, she can see him for what he is, a narcissistic and just plain evil. He uses the girls for what he wants and then moves on. For more, you will have to read it! I highly recommend it!

I usually don't read YA books but I have been a fan of Alexandrea Weis for a long time. This book is fast paced, creepy, and the characters are believable. You can feel the gothic vibes of this Louisiana town. The ending surprised me of course and note that there are triggers in this story, mainly rape, and alcohol use. That said, this first book in the series is well worth a read. I look forward to reading the next in the series, 

River of Wrath (St. Benedict Book 2).

I give this book 5 stars because it is so creepy!

I received a copy of the book for review purposes only.

 

 

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Return to Cornwall: Books 1-6 by Laura Briggs Blog Tour and Giveaway! @rararesources

 

Return to Cornwall: Books 1-6

The first six books in the heartfelt UK series are now available in one collection!

From a runaway bride to a reality baking show competition, to rumors of a haunted wood and, of course, a Christmas of the cosiest kind, there’s never a dull moment for event planner Julianne in the quirky village she calls home.

This book bundle contains Wedding Vows and Cornish Ribbons, Cornish Sweets and Wedding Treats, Spring Roses Under Topaz Skies, Cornish Gold at Summer's End, Walnut Mince Pies at the Frost Fete, Secrets and Sunsets at Azure Bay.

 Purchase Link - https://smarturl.it/return1-6

 Laura Briggs is the author of several feel-good romance reads, including the Top 100 Amazon UK seller 'A Wedding in Cornwall'. She has a fondness for vintage style dresses (especially ones with polka dots), and reads everything from Jane Austen to modern day mysteries. When she's not writing, she enjoys spending time with family and friends, caring for her pets, gardening, and seeing the occasional movie or play.

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Giveaway – Win either an e-copy of Return to Cornwall: Books 1-6 or A Novelty Scarf (Open INT)

Prize Winner #1: An eBook copy of the box set Return to Cornwall: Books 1-6.

Prize Winner #2: A novelty scarf featuring cover art from my Cornish romance books.

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*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.

The Selective Mute Princess by @samanthajayne_x Book Blitz and Giveaway! #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣ #TheSelectiveMutePrincess #SamanthaJayneGrubey

 

The Selective Mute Princess
Samantha Jayne Grubey

Publication date: August 29th 2022
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Princess Amelia has been silent for ten years, ever since Amelia and Ava were kidnapped. One returned home the other did not. Amelia has always kept herself guarded with her twenty-first birthday approaching things are going to be changing.

Ethan Sparks is on his first assignment, guard the Princess in the Palace. The longer he’s there the more he finds himself being drawn to Princess Amelia, he can see she’s drowning and he wants to help.

Romantic interests stirs in a mixing pot of emotions as Amelia and her family recover from the kidnapping and murder of her sister. Unsure what to feel or who to believe, Amelia needs to find her truth, as she deals with her trauma and finally brings her family to mend. Along the way they find themselves hitting challenges at every wall. So many questions left unanswered by the kidnapping and murder, can she finally find the answers she’s searching for? Can Amelia finally allow herself to live and be freed from the guilt she feels? Can Ethan survive the challenges that come with falling for a Princess in line for the throne?

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—

EXCERPT:

I sent him a small smile and walked through the halls, entering the cinema room and grabbing the remote. Ethan shut the door, and I patted the seat next to me. I flicked through one of the many streaming services, finding Harry Potter.

“Which one is your favourite?”

I held my hand up, signalling five.

“Really? Some people think that is the worse one; it comes in at number three on my list of best Harry Potter films.”

I chuckled, laying my head on his chest. I was determined to make it through all eight films, and I hoped I could binge watch them all in one day. I pressed the first film, and it began to play. I had yet to find something better than watching a film with Ethan by my side.

The first film finished, and I lined up the second one, hitting pause. “Do you know sometimes I wish we could order a takeaway to the palace?”

Ethan laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” He laughed. “You could have it ordered, but by the time it’s gone through all the checks, it’d be cold. What are you fancying?”

“Chinese. I know the chef can cook, but sometimes a takeaway is needed,” I muttered. “Why?”

“I’ll go get us some. I should see if Katie wants anything.”

“You could invite your sister to watch films with us too, you know,” I said pointedly. “I don’t think I’ve actually gotten to spend time with her other than our initial meeting.”

“She’s being a brat,” Ethan muttered sourly.

“Ethan.”

He rolled his eyes. “She’s not opening up, and I don’t know how to deal with teenage Katie. I’m way out of my depth here… like oceans away out of my depth.”

“Teenage years are hard,” I told him. “Maybe all she needs to know is that you love her still. Have you told her lately?”

“She knows.”

“Ethan, teenagers always know, but have you said the words?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Have you told her lately? She’s clearly going through a lot, ignoring the fact that she can’t speak.”

“Okay, I’ll see if she wants to come with me,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Egg fried rice, chicken chow mien, vegetable spring rolls, Hawaiian chicken, and chicken balls,” I said as I watched him type it on his phone.

“I’ll be back soon. I’ll post a guard outside your door.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes slightly. He left the room, and I sighed. I wondered if it was time I invested in a phone. I stood up, opening the door and made the short walk to my room, ignoring the guard following me. If I ignored them, then I couldn’t see their looks. I grabbed my blanket and Mac and made my way back to the cinema room, waiting for Ethan to return.

I wrapped myself in the blanket and switched on the Mac. I loaded up Google Chrome and stared at the blank search engine. I still had no idea what my project would be. I suppose part of that was due to the fact that I knew nothing. Maybe it was time to go back to school. I typed in universities and began scrolling through them. I had no idea what I was even looking for. If I was going to take over as queen, then I should at least know more about our history. I mean, our history books were fine, but I didn’t want to just stick with what we had. I wanted to experience the outside world, and I knew convincing my parents would be the hardest part.

“I’m back.” I jumped a mile, shutting the laptop quickly. Holding a hand to my chest, I glanced at the clock and saw half an hour had passed. He chuckled. “You must have been really deep into whatever you were doing.” I held onto my chest, trying to calm my breathing. I had completely gotten lost in my research.

Ethan sat next to me, and I looked to see Katie had sat on the other side of Ethan. I waved, and she smiled and waved back.

“What were you looking at?” Ethan asked curiously.

I shrugged.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just assume it was porn. You naughty, naughty princess.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Ethan was definitely something else. He sat next to me, handing me a plate with a lot of food and handed Katie hers, then he pressed play on the film. It had been so long since I had takeaway food. My parents tried to limit us, but every now and then, we managed to convince a nanny to sneak us out of the house. I picked up a vegetable spring roll and began to eat it as I concentrated on watching the second Harry Potter film.

As I looked at Ethan, I noticed our legs had become intertwined as they laid out in front of us. I couldn’t help but smile; everything felt easy with us. I didn’t know if that was good or bad, but Ethan made it easy.

Samantha Jayne Grubey is an author of new adult romance.

When she's not writing, reading, you can probably find her heading back to university for teaching training. If she's not doing any of that then she's probably playing sims (sims 3&2 are the best out of the franchise) or colouring.

Follow her on social media, learn all about the books at: https://www.samanthajaynegrubey.com

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The Mix Up by Rebecca Wilder Release Tour!

 

In THE MIX UP by Rebecca Wilder, Arlowe Mitchell discovers the charming bungalow she rented comes with a not-so-charming roommate after a rental mishap. And grumpy Yates Warner finds his unexpected roommate way too happy to become anything more than a short-term fling, just as long as they don’t blur the lines and become attached, should be easy right? Fans of small-town romances will enjoy this spicy, must-read grumpy sunshine romance from the Meet Cute Book Club Series.

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Arlowe

“I think that there’s been some kind of mix up.”

That’s my first clue that my stay in Lilac Harbor isn’t going to go according to plan.

There’s been a mistake with my rental booking and now instead of having the charming little bungalow on the shore all to myself, I’ve got a not so charming roommate.

Yates Warner.

He’s a grump in every since of the word, but there’s something about the guarded translator that tugs at my heartstrings.

I’m determined to make the best of this situation, and who knows? Maybe my grumpy giant and I can even be friends.

Yates

Yeah, we’re definitely never going to be friends.

Arlowe Mitchell is too sweet for a grouchy loner like me. She’s too friendly, too generous, and way too optimistic.

Also, incredibly too tempting.

The more time that I spend with her, the more that I want her.

When she tells me about the newest book her book club is reading and says how she always wanted to have a summer fling like the characters, I finally get my opening.

A four-week fling. No strings attached and we part at the end of the month to go our separate ways. The only rule we have is to not get attached.

I thought that it would be a piece of cake to follow it but the more time I spend around my new roomie, the more I realize that I’m in real trouble of breaking our one and only rule.

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Excerpt

Copyright 2022 @ Rebecca Wilder

“Are you going to win me a stuffed animal?” I tease when I see him eyeing one of the games that we’re walking past. 

“I doubt it. I’m terrible at all of those games,” he says and I laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure that everyone is.” 

We head into the vendor section and Yates waits patiently as I look around each booth. We get to one that’s selling cake pops and I grab two, passing one to Yates. He huffs out a laugh when he sees the mermaid one that I bought him. 

“Did you want the unicorn one instead?” I ask him, offering him the one in my hand and he shakes his head. 

“No, this one is fine.”

He takes a bite, finishing the whole thing in about two bites as we continue to browse through all of the craft stands. I debate buying a beaded wallet and a little water painting but put both of them back. I don’t want to carry either of them around for the rest of our afternoon. 

I stop by one of the maple booths and grab Hartley her maple candy. I get another bag for me and then one for Yates and his new candy dish. They have maple everything and I debate sending my mom a bottle of maple syrup but I’m worried it would break before it got to her. 

“Ready for some rides?” I ask him as I tuck the candy in my purse and he nods his head but he doesn’t look so sure. 

“Do you think that your stomach can handle it?” I ask and he side eyes me. 

“I’ll be fine,” he promises and I roll my eyes at his tough guy routine. 

My phone dings as we get in line for the tilt-a-whirl, and I pull it out to see a text from my book club friend, Jamie. 

Jamie: Are you ready for next Thursday?

Arlowe: Of course!

Jamie: Can’t wait!

“Who was that?” Yates asks as we move up in line. 

“My friend Jamie. We’re in a book club together and she was just reminding me about our meeting this coming Thursday.”

“What book are you reading? A romance one?” He asks. 

“Why? You want to translate it?”

He rolls his eyes and I grin as we show the ride operator our wrist bands and head onto the ride. 

“It is a romance book, actually. The main characters have this sexy vacation fling on this island off the coast of South Carolina and they end up falling in love. It was so good,” I gush and he nods as the operator closes the bar. 

“Sounds cool,” he says and I grin at his bored monotone. 

“It is! You should read it.”

“Maybe,” he hedges as the operator heads back to the ride box and starts pushing a few levers. 

“I’ve always wanted to have a super steamy vacation romance. Something where you can just get what you need without being worried about the rest of the relationship. Something strictly physical. It’s been on my bucket list for ages,” I say with a dreamy sigh. 

“Are you coming onto me?” He asks and I blink at him, my head whipping to the side as I gap at him. 

And then I burst out laughing. 

I didn’t mean to be. I wasn’t even thinking about it. I mean, I’ve been trying to hide my crush from him since I got to town and the one time that I was just saying something innocently, he asks me that. 

I laugh harder and that seems to surprise Yates. He wasn’t expecting that reaction and he frowns at me, looking insulted and I try to backtrack. 

“I mean, you’re gorgeous. I’d love to have sex with you!”

I freeze. 

I can’t believe that I just said that!

I can see a few people giving us weird looks but I ignore them. All of my attention is locked on Yates. 

We both just stare at each other, neither one of us knowing what to do now. The ride starts and we both look away from each other and grab hold of the bar as the ride starts to spin. 

  

About Rebecca Wilder

 

USA Today Bestselling Author Rebecca Wilder writes contemporary and new adult romance. She loves writing about opposites attracting and finding their happily ever afters.

When she’s not spending time with her family or friends, she’s reading romance books, watching stand-up comedies, or crime TV shows. She’s also a total Pinterest addict, dog lover, tea snob, and a wannabe yogi.

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About The Meet Cute Book Club Series

 

About The Meet Cute Book Club Series

Escape with the Meet Cute Book Club where meet-cutes don't only happen between the pages of romance novels and members find their own happily ever afters. 

Eight single women bound by their love of books take a monthly break from real life to lose themselves in the chapters of romantic fiction. From friends to lovers to fake relationships and more, each story features a brand new couple and their journey to find love from an amazing lineup of authors including Louise Lennox, Tracy Broemmer, A.M. Williams, Mel Walker, RJ Gray, Rebecca Wilder, Julie Archer, and Kate Stacy. 

These eight standalone romances are packed with meet-cutes, heat, and of course a happily ever after!

This promotional event is brought to you by The Indie Pen PR

Bratva Treasure by @sabinebarclayauthor Reveal! #sabinebarclay #BratvaTreasure #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣

 

Bratva Treasure
Sabine Barclay

(The Ivankov Brotherhood, #3)
Published by: Oliver Heber Books
Publication date: September 20th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance

She has no idea what she agreed to…

My printsessa thinks she’s taken a regular job for a regular lawyer.

She doesn’t know the devils that lurk below the surface now that she’s in my world. The bratva world.

Innocent, sweet, and trusting.

All the things I am not. All the things I never knew I wanted.

But I do now. And she’s mine.

Let someone try to take her. I’ll burn the world down around them to keep her. She’s my soulmate.

She doesn’t know her limits yet. I’ll take her there, then bring her back with my touch and my love.

Bratva Treasure is an interconnecting, standalone Dark Mafia Romance with a HEA and no cliffhanger. It contains extra-steamy scenes that will make your toes curl and your granny blush. This is book three in The Ivankov Brotherhood, a six-book series that’ll keep you warm at night.

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Sabine Barclay, a nom de plume also writing Historical Romance as Celeste Barclay, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Sabine enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. Before becoming a full-time author, Sabine was a Social Studies and English teacher. She holds degrees in International Affairs (BA), Secondary Social Science (MAT), and Political Management (MPS). She channels that knowledge into creating engrossing contemporary romances that will make your toes curl and your granny blush.

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