02 November 2022

Ship Got Real by @authorTLAnderson Release Tour! @IndiePenPR #LoveAtSeaSeries #FallInLoveWithYourNextBookBoyfriend #BlindDateRomance

 

When there is Love at Sea, can a broken heart find a reason to beat again? When Avery Santos agrees to act as a wingwoman for her best friend on a week-long cruise, she doesn't expect a love at sea theme. But thanks to a sexy blind date with fellow passenger, Colin Turner, this week-long trip has suddenly become more than she bargains for. Fans of vacation romances will devour SHIP GOT REAL by T.L. Anderson, a steamy blind date romance

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When my best friend cons me into going on a cruise with him as his wingwoman, I didn’t expect a love at sea theme.

Add in speed dating, an insane scavenger hunt, and the sexy blind date he sets me up on and the entire trip becomes so much more than I’m ready for.

After experiencing what heartbreak can do to a person, falling in love is the last thing I want to do. Ever.

There’s just one tiny problem…

Colin Turner.

Ship Got Real is a blind date romance, part of the Love at Sea multi-author series. Get ready to set sail through the Caribbean on Festival Cruises’ most alluring voyage with eight of your favorite authors - happily ever after guaranteed!

Experience everything the Love at Sea series has to offer. From speed dating to masquerades, guests are sure to enjoy the hot days and steamy nights. Explore hidden waterfalls, swim with dolphins, and watch as eight couples find their forever on the open ocean.


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Excerpt 

Copyright 2022 @T.L. Anderson


The red lighting in the hallway of the cruise ship gives it an eerie glow instead of the romantic vibe I’m sure they were hoping for. I keep waiting for a man in a mask to come jumping out like an old 90’s thriller as we head towards our suite. “This place is unreal,” I grumble.

“Isn’t it amazing!” Evelyn, my younger sister, says enthusiastically. Her blonde hair flies around her as she whips her head around taking everything in. Her blue eyes wide at every small detail. “Oh my god Colin, they have disco elevators!” She quickly pushes the up button and does a little dance in place as she waves to other random guests.

Crossing my arms I lean against the wall taking it all in. “I wouldn’t say it’s amazing. It’s more like an expensive petri dish floating on water.” I watch as someone sneezes then touches the door handle into a room. Disgusting.

She slaps me on the arm, “Oh stop. Can you not be your brooding self for once?” The elevator doors open and she rushes inside staring at the ceiling and at the blue bubbles lighting the walls. “Look at this place. We are going to have so much fun!” She pushes the button for deck 15.

“Hmm,” I grunt. Refusing to even see the fun side of this trip. The only reason I agreed to come along was because her boyfriend broke up with her leaving her with an extra non-refundable ticket. Of course though, she was sneaky enough to not tell me it was a love cruise. Why the hell she would want to bring me is beyond me. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to be okay with watching you flirt and bring guys back to our suite this entire trip.” I narrow my gaze at her. 

She blows out a sigh while rolling her eyes. “Come on Colin, for once stop being the protective older brother and just let loose. Besides, maybe you’ll meet someone special here too.” She grins while rubbing her shoulder conspiratorially against mine.

“Doubtful,” I say as I exit the elevator onto deck 15. I look for our cabin 15331Z, the rooms here are larger than the below decks. I see the Fab Suite listed on the door and raise an eyebrow at her. 

She waves me away. “Don’t give me that look. I have money, even if I only work at a craft store. I do save my money.” She holds her card up to the electronic key reader and the door unlocks. “Besides I didn’t expect to be ditched by he who I will not name before this trip. So I wasn’t going to waste a few grand on this excursion over some hurt feelings.” She ushers me inside.

The room is gigantic. We enter through a hallway with a closet on the side for our clothes then a bathroom on the right. The entryway opens up into a large sitting room area with a television, gaming console, a guitar on the side, and a mini bar. “Damn, this had to set you back a bit of money.” I grab my phone out of my pocket and open my venmo. With a quick punch of my fingers I send her a chunk of money that should cover my portion of the room.

Her phone dings and her eyes narrow. “Colin Brayden Turner you better not have done what I think you just did.”

I slide my phone back into my dress slacks and walk into the bedroom ignoring her soft curses from behind me. She’ll complain, but she’ll accept it. The room is spacious, but I only see one large bed in the room. “So where exactly am I sleeping because this is not going to work for us.”

She grabs her suitcase and plops it onto the bed. “My dear brother, you get the couch.” She smirks as she flops onto the queen bed and stretches. 

I glance back at the smaller looking modular couch and accept the fact that my six foot frame will not fit well on it. Maybe I should have just booked a separate room. Her laughter causes me to glance her way.

“You should see your face right now.” She shakes her head while hopping off the bed. “Don’t worry big bro, the couch turns into another queen bed. The sectionals push together.”

Thank fuck. I grab my bags and drop them in the closet and start hanging up my clothes. “What’s on the agenda for tonight? I’m sure you have something planned that I just can’t wait to hear about.” Sarcasm drips from my voice.

She cackles again, “Oh, you have no idea."


About T.L. Anderson

T. L. Anderson writes romance filled novels that sometimes have a twist of suspense. Her characters are strong-willed, heart-felt, and at times angst-ridden.

She currently lives in Wisconsin with her husband, adventurous daughter, her baby boy, two mischievous dogs, a stubborn cat, and two guinea pigs.

Since the age of 3, she has loved reading and writing her own stories. Now her passion has developed into a career. After earning a certificate from the Children's Institute of Literature she decided it was time to put the multiple characters in her head onto paper so she can share her stories with the world.

She has a slight obsession with doughnuts, coffee, and dinosaurs. When she's not writing you can find her lurking on social media looking for new books to read, taking care of her mini-zoo at home, or having her nose stuck in a book.

About The Love at Sea Series

Get ready to set sail through the Caribbean on Festival Cruises’ most alluring voyage with eight of your favorite authors - happily ever after guaranteed!

 

Experience everything the Love at Sea series has to offer. From speed dating to masquerades, guests are sure to enjoy the hot days and steamy nights. Explore hidden waterfalls, swim with dolphins, and watch as eight couples find their forever on the open ocean.

 

Each story features a brand new couple and a fun trope from our amazing line up of authors including: Kate Stacy, HM Thomas, Mari Sol, S.A. Clayton, T.L. Anderson, Karigan Hale, Susan Renee, and A.M. Williams.

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

01 November 2022

The Ghost and the Stolen Tears (Haunted Bookshop Mystery) by Cleo Coyle Book Tour!

 

About The Ghost and the Stolen Tears

The Ghost and the Stolen Tears (Haunted Bookshop Mystery) 

Cozy Mystery 8th in Series 

Berkley (October 4, 2022) 

Mass Market Paperback ‏ : ‎ 288 pages

ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0425255484 

ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0425255483 

Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B09PZV5F9S

Norma is a modern-day nomad. Living out of her van and teardrop trailer, she revels in self-reliance, solitude, and reading in the glorious peace of nature. Jovial, wise, and scrupulously honest, she's become an uplifting presence in the little town of Quindicott, Rhode Island, where bookseller Pen is thankful to have her part-time help. But it's Norma's other job, working as a housekeeper at the Finch Inn, that gets her into terrible trouble. Norma is accused of stealing jewels from a guest's room: the legendary Valentino Teardrops, an antique necklace and earring set, inherited by a young socialite. Pen doesn't believe Norma is guilty of the crime—though the evidence is distressingly strong. And when the spirited Norma vanishes before her arrest, Pen turns to another spirit... 

Jack Shepard, PI, may have been gunned down decades ago, but his memory hasn't been ghosted. Back in the 1940s, those same Valentino Teardrops starred in a bizarre case of betrayal and murder. From the look of things, history is about to repeat. Now Jack is back on the job, and Pen is eternally grateful.

CLEO COYLE is a pseudonym for Alice Alfonsi, writing in collaboration with her husband, Marc Cerasini. Both are New York Times bestselling authors of the long-running Coffeehouse Mysteries—now celebrating eighteen years in print. They are also authors of the nationally bestselling Haunted Bookshop Mysteries, previously written under the pseudonym Alice Kimberly. Alice has worked as a journalist in Washington, D.C., and New York, and has written popular fiction for adults and children. A former magazine editor, Marc has authored espionage thrillers and nonfiction for adults and children. Alice and Marc are also both bestselling media tie-in writers who have penned properties for Lucasfilm, NBC, Fox, Disney, Imagine, and MGM. They live and work in New York City, where they write independently and together.

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Monica Adams Skips Christmas by @kristaharperwrites Book Blitz! #kristaharper #MonicaAdamsSkipsChristmas #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣

 

Monica Adams Skips Christmas
Krista Harper


Publication date: November 29th 2022
Genres: Contemporary, Holiday, LGBTQ+, New Adult, Romance

Nineteen-year-old engineering student Monica Adams is excited to be back home in the Windy City for Christmas, even if she’s planning to tell her parents she’s dropping out of college. But when her longtime boyfriend unexpectedly dumps her, her elderly grandfather moves in, and her parents are too busy working to notice she’s home, Monica decides she’s skipping the holidays this year. It isn’t until she begins spending time with her neighbor Paige that things take a turn towards yuletide glee.

Eighteen-year-old Paige Yoshida is an art student, local bookseller and self-proclaimed Christmas fanatic. She’s also lived upstairs from Monica since they were kids and may have had a secret crush on her during high school.

As the countdown to Christmas continues, Monica and Paige find themselves unexpectedly spending more and more time together. Will the two take a chance on love this holiday season, or will they ignore their building chemistry and keep things strictly friends?

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Krista Harper is a contemporary romance and romantic comedy writer. She also publishes non-fiction books on writing under the pseudonym K.L. Harper.

The first in her family to attend college, Harper received a practical degree in nursing before pursuing her MFA over two decades later, graduating as a distinguished scholar from Southern New Hampshire University.

A Chicago native, Harper currently resides in the Colorado mountains with her family and five rescues. When she isn't reading or writing, she's binge-watching the Great British Baking Show and dreaming of summer on the lake.

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The Enchanted Bungalow by @evapohler Book Blitz! #evapohler #TheEnchantedBungalow #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

The Enchanted Bungalow
Eva Pohler


(The Mystery House Series, #9)
Publication date: October 31st 2022
Genres: Adult, Mystery

Ellen and her friends never saw this coming.

During a Twilight tour of Forks, Washington, Ellen, Sue, and Tanya rent a bungalow on Quileute land to celebrate Tanya’s sixtieth birthday. They’re having the time of their lives until strange visions make them question everything they know about the afterlife. Can the three best friends uncover the mystery of the Machiavellian spirit sharing their bungalow?

Here’s what readers are saying about this series:

“Slightly wacky ladies, humor & good intentions result in a very interesting story. I’ve already ordered the second one in the series.”–Lynne J. Condon, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“They begin a dangerous quest digging into the real history behind the Gold House. What they find will blow your mind! My heart was racing throughout this entire book. If you believe in ghosts or even if you don’t, I suggest reading by a lamp. I jumped several times as if a movie were playing inside my mind. . . . The three women in this book are wonderful. This is definitely a must-read. 5 stars for Eva! Well done!!”–Book Lover Reviews ★★★★★

“This is a real page turner. Riveting, and exciting. The characters are very well written, it’s easy to read and you won’t want to put it down.”–Southermermaid85, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“This is my first experience with author Eva Pohler and I can’t believe I haven’t read anything of hers before! Loved the book and I’ll be checking out more in this series.”–The Novel Lady, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

Described as “Nancy Drew meets The Golden Girls,” these friends get in way over their heads as they try to bring peace to ghosts haunting their most recent flip project or vacation rental.

**The books in this series can be read in any order.

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EXCERPT:

Two days later, Ellen flew with Moseby to Seattle, where she rented an SUV—a white Nissan Rogue—and drove in the dark and through the rain for three hours toward La Push. The last two hours were on winding roads that had Ellen gripping the steering wheel and clenching her teeth.

Moseby whined. He sat in a carrier strapped in the front passenger seat.

“I know, Moseby-Mo. It’s been a long car ride, but I think we’re nearly there.”

Brian had business meetings in Portland all week, and Ellen hadn’t wanted to board the dog, worried it would cause post-traumatic stress disorder. Plus, she needed him, since she was traveling without her friends, hoping to get everything ready to save Tanya’s birthday.

It was so dark and rainy in La Push when she arrived that she nearly missed the turn into the Oceanside Resort Office. She pulled in, put the rental in park, found the totem pole Dorothy had described, and, clutching her hood beneath her chin, used the phone inside the totem to telephone security.

“I’ll be right there,” a man on the other end of the line assured her.

Moments later, a black truck approached, and a police officer rolled down his window to hand her a key.

“Are you staying there alone?” he asked as she stood in the rain beside his truck. “I thought there were three of you. My paperwork shows three signatures.”

Ellen and her friends had been asked to sign, scan, and email liability waivers.

“The other two will be joining me in a couple of days.”

The officer frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, staying there alone? Dorothy told you about the history of the place, didn’t she?”

“I’ll be fine.” Ellen sounded more confident than she felt. “I just need directions.”

“It’s up there on the highest hill,” he pointed out. “Just follow this road on up. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Ellen said.

“Let us know if you decide to leave early,” the officer added, handing her his card with his contact information. “The cell service is spotty out here, but you can always drive over to the totem and call me from here.”

“Will do.” Ellen read the card. “Thank you, Officer Hobucket.”

The officer waited until Ellen had returned to the SUV before he drove off. She said a prayer as she followed him from the parking area and back onto the road in the opposite direction, heading toward the beach, until she came to a fork. The road to the right went downhill and the road to the left went up, so she went left.

“This has to be it,” she said to Mo as they neared a bungalow surrounded by enormous western red cedar trees, the silhouettes of which were visible in her headlights.

She parked the Nissan Rogue and took Moseby from his carrier. With his leash attached to his collar, she walked him toward the front door. It was too dark to make out much about its features. An old porchlight illuminated the front door and wooden porch, but not much else. She couldn’t even tell what color it was painted. Maybe gray?

As she waited for Mo to do his business, she turned her face toward the ocean, but it was too dark to see. She could hear it, though, gathering in great bursts against rocks that must not be too far below. A glance to the dark sky above revealed no moon, but an ocean of stars twinkled down at her, and she felt suddenly small and nervous.

“Come on, Moseby-Mo.” She nudged her dog from the grass toward the front door. “Let’s check out the inside.”

Dorothy had warned her that it hadn’t been cleaned in years, and the stale air that greeted her when Ellen opened the door did nothing to contradict that.

Moseby whined at the stoop.

“Inside,” Ellen commanded as she blindly felt the wall for a switch.

Not finding one, she stepped further into the bungalow, making the leash taut between her and Mo, who’d remained on the threshold.

Ellen’s hand swept across a cobweb, and she gasped with surprise at the unexpected texture. Shuddering and wiping her hand against her jeans, she continued to flail around for a light switch and finally found a floor lamp when she walked right into it.

She dropped the leash by accident to steady the lamp, and Moseby scurried away.

Ellen rushed outside into the rain. “Mo! Come back here!”

Mo stood at their rental car looking back at her without any intention of minding her call.

Fortunately, he didn’t run off as she approached him and scooped him into her arms.

“Why are you shaking, boy?” she said in a soothing voice. “Are you cold? I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

She fumbled for her phone, which was somewhere at the bottom of the purse draped over her shoulder. Once she found it, she turned on the flashlight app and proceeded back toward the house.

When she reached the porch, the front door, which she’d left ajar, slammed shut in her face.

“The wind is really something out here,” Ellen remarked as she reached for the knob.


Eva Pohler is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty-five novels in multiple genres, including paranormal mysteries, thrillers, and young adult fantasy based on Greek mythology. Her books have been described as "addictive" and "sure to thrill"--Kirkus Reviews.

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Don’t You Forget About Me by @naimasimoneauthor Book Blitz! #DontYouForgetAboutMe #LoveontheRadio #naimasimone #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

Don’t You Forget About Me
Naima Simone


(Love on the Radio, #2)
Publication date: November 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Whoever said be careful what you wish for had a serious gift for understatement.

As one of the world’s hugest musicians I’d seen and had it all. Sold out tours. Awards. Fame. Money. Women… And I’d almost lost it all. Epically.

Now I’m back home. A broken, burned out, desperate rock star…and a single father. I returned to give my son a family, stability. To figure out my life. But coming home meant seeing her.

The woman who was once my everything. Who made life in this too small town bearable. Who I loved with my whole heart…my whole body. But long held secrets forced me to leave nine years ago. Forced me to abandon her. And she’s never forgiven me.

Still…

I’ve never forgotten her or the heat between us that burned so hot we damn near went up in flames with it. And I want it again. And again. Even knowing the past will only tear us apart once more…

Goodreads / Amazon

SNEAK PEEK:

I enter Hunt Auto’s breakroom, closing the door behind us. As soon as the lock engages, Lennon whirls around, and I shift my gaze from her infuriated glare to over her head.

Just for a minute.

Because Jesus… She’s f*cking gorgeous.

My fingers itch to sink into those beautiful, thick curls, hold her steady while I desecrate that wide, lush mouth. The knit of her dress pays homage to every curve and dip of her body, molding to her high, firm breasts, the sensual flare of her hips, the thickness of her thighs. And fUck if I can’t feel the heels of her knee-high boots in my lower back.

At twenty I’d barely had the opportunity to explore the searing sexuality and lust that had existed between us before I had to leave. Barely had my fill of that violets and musk scent that was more intoxicating than the best top-shelf alcohol. My stomach aches with hunger for a woman whose particular flavor is still as fresh, as potent to me as it was ten years ago.

“What in the hell are you thinking?” she snaps, then flicks her gaze towards the closed door. She lowers her voice without losing any of the venom. “Do you know what you just did?”

“Yeah.” I drag my gaze from the wall and meet hers. Not daring to glance below her chin. No, f*ck that. Her nose. “I stopped you from driving while you were upset. And don’t try lying to me,” I interrupt when her lips part to do just that—lie. “You were upset. Still are. Don’t ask me to see you hurting and walk away, whether it’s my business or not. Don’t ask me to do it.”

“Why not?” She jerks her gaze back to me, and I go solid. “You do it so well. You’re a pro at it.”

I stare at her. At the tautness of the skin over her cheekbones. The darkness in her eyes. She’s a bomb set on emotional detonate, and the masochist that I am, I want all that shrapnel embedded in my skin. I want her to draw my blood.

“Don’t stop now. Let it out, baby. You’re right. I left you. Didn’t look back. Didn’t give a f*ck,” I lie.

“You don’t give a f*ck about anyone but yourself. You never did. You used me and then threw me away,” she rasps.

“Yeah, I did. Now what?” I keep shoving at her, even though guilt slides through me like filth. “You want me to apologize? To crawl on my knees and grovel? To beg?”

“Yes.” Her whisper echoes in the room as if she shouted it. “I want to see you hurt, sorry, suffering. Just like when you left me broken. You didn’t give a damn then so don’t pretend you do now. Nothing about you has changed, King. Not one thing. And I hate you for it. I hate you for not once looking back at the wreckage you left behind you. I hate you for going on with life and living it like I never mattered while I had to face reminders and memories of you every time I walked out my front door. I hate you…” Her voice hoarsens, and she crosses her arms over her chest, bowing her head. “I hate you because you gave another woman what you promised me. A family. Gunner could’ve been ours. Should’ve been ours. But you stole one more dream from me.”

F*ck.

F*ck.

It doesn’t occur to me not to touch her.

Eliminating the space between us, I pull her into my arms.

“King, don’t…” Her whisper ends on a sob, and I tighten my hold on her, pressing my lips to her hair.

“No. I can’t. There’s no way I can let you go right now.” I inhale her, take her so deep into my lungs, her scent burns me, marks me. Rubbing my mouth over her hair, I beg just like she wanted me to. “Let go, Len. Let go and allow me to be the one who carries you through it. Lean on me, baby. Just for a little while.”

Her fists ball into my shirt, stretching the material at my waist. She rolls her forehead against my chest, and her jagged breaths scorch me through my clothes. I slide a hand up her spine, cupping the back of her neck, squeezing it.

As if that unlocks something inside her, her shoulders shake and seconds later, her cries rip through the room. She crushes her cheek against me, and her tears dampen my shirt and skin. Stroking her back with one hand, I cradle her head with the other, fingers tunneling under the bun to scratch her scalp.

How long she sobs in my arms, I’m not certain. Minutes, hours. A lifetime. It’s not long enough. Curling my body over her, I brush my mouth over her ear.

“I left, yes. But I did look back. So many damn times. And never, ever did I stop giving a f*ck,” I softly admit.

Her breath shudders against my chest, and locking down a groan, I lift my hands to her face, tilting it back. Her eyes, moist with all the tears she’s shed, meet mine. Even with her face wet and swollen, she’s beautiful to me.

“Liar,” she accuses, voice so rough, it’s nearly painful to hear. “You’re such a liar.”

Then she raises on her toes and crushes her mouth to mine.

Published since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.”

She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

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31 October 2022

Criminal by Proxy by S.E. Smyth New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 

Title:  Criminal by Proxy

Author: S.E. Smyth

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/25/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 75700

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Coming out, college, criminals, dark, doctors, enemies/rivals to lovers, established couple, friends to lovers, gender-bending, hurt/comfort, illness/disease, in the closet, law enforcement, lawyers, medical personnel, mental illness, over 40, prison, private detective, reunited, revenge, road trip, security guards, soulmates, tear-jerker, therapist, UST

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Christine is on the hunt to find out more about her great aunt, Rose, hoping to decipher their severed relationship and the murder Rose committed, for which June is in prison. With a stroke leaving Rose incapacitated, it’s a rush against time to find the truth.

Things are doubly complicated when Christine’s girlfriend Terrie is accused of assaulting someone. Nervous about what she might do next, Christine and her friends avoid Terrie. With everything at stake, Christine must stick to the cold hard facts, reminding herself not to let her emotions get in the way.

Christine must evaluate everything happening in her life. The weight of the events buried by her aunt so many years before and the shame of the actions of the love of her life rest squarely on her. If the eyes of the law are always 20/20, how do love, emotion, and insecurities distort fact?

Excerpt

Criminal by Proxy
SE Smyth © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Dear Rose

“I loved her… That’s what I tell myself at least,” June uttered. Her exertion, her plea, resonated. “I told her that…yelled across the courtroom…in 1968, the day I went to prison, and I’ve said it a thousand times since.”

June had been a psychiatrist years ago, but Christine was the one listening now, decades later.

Christine was pretending to be a law student to get information, clarity on historical facts about the actions of her great-aunt Rose from the time she was in a mental hospital in the late 1950s. Her aunt, who was in her seventies, was not in Christine’s direct blood line but rather the child of her grandmother’s sister. She’d lived with Christine’s aunts and uncles and family from a young age, nonetheless. Christine had gathered scattered details in bits and pieces all her life. Every other family holiday or so, some new bit of information would surface. But she never asked. It was something everyone quietly avoided to begin with.

June had been Rose’s psychiatrist at one point while she was in a mental hospital. Sometime after she was released, she’d moved in with June, and they had developed a relationship. Rose had ended up shooting and killing a man, but Christine was confused about the chain of events and who was to blame. June was in prison, and Rose had been free since 1972.

Several letters followed the initial blunt hello letter to June. In those, they discussed basic things Christine got wrong and developed a loose friendship. After about four letters, Christine suggested a meeting. June recommended an interview room since she was a student, and Christine went about finding out if it was possible.

In an act of indiscretion, she set up an appointment to see the infamous June, someone she had recently found out to be Aunt Rose’s ex-lover. This interview, her time in the room with a prisoner who held a life sentence, was dedicated to asking questions to elucidate events from decades ago, that her aunt Rose never discussed.

Christine attempted to gauge if June was telling the truth. She needed to know if the legal decision was warranted. She was sure if she listened very carefully, she could figure out if June actually did love Aunt Rose and if the correct decision had been made in the courtroom in 1968. All this, Christine attempted to assess with a conversation. She would have an answer by the end of the conversation. It was her only objective.

June wasn’t the same person she had been years ago—when June had loved Aunt Rose and Aunt Rose had presumably loved her. That fact stuck out. Christine’s initial assessment was any flame June still held for Aunt Rose was one-sided.

June only half faced her, sitting sideways on the chair, the corner of which stuck out between her legs. June glanced over her shoulder. She held a waning seventy years in her limbs, but she still glowed with energy. Christine didn’t mind she threw a sneer down across her nose. Christine pried and chipped at information at first, but the conversation soon flowed more smoothly.

Christine had first heard about June from her great-aunt, who kicked up old memories and dropped them right away. Christine let her get away with her excuses—she didn’t remember. June was her aunt’s ex-lover. She mentioned she was in prison. That was everything her aunt would tell her. Christine had found out June was labeled a criminal by the media. She was a prisoner with a life sentence. Aunt Rose had fired the gun, but they’d given the slot in prison to June. Christine imagined her day, filled with bitter resentment for her free ex-lover. The lover who didn’t contact her. There had to be bad blood. Christine eyed her goal at this point—information. She needed to know what had happened. Christine was interrogating her, asking her to relive it for a law school report, what she thought about the case so many years later. Unfairly picking at issues June wasn’t ready to answer, she continued the questions.

June went on, describing everything in bits and pieces. She would pause and continue, restart with irrelevant comments, diverting the conversation. “It was different all that time ago. All the hoopla over something agreed to be truth. If someone thought you were a lesbian and if they caught you, arms were up in the air—sirens roared. It was a travesty, and something was done about it.” June continued on about the past, how people thought of her and talked about her.

She spoke about the past as if events weren’t real, as if life were a story she was reading to children, the grim side of a fairy tale. Off and on, June would shift, indicating her tongue had taken her too far. She shouldn’t have let the full story go. Her knowledge was an out-of-body reflection, too real. The trauma showed through.

Christine’s life of rumors, her life, seemed trivial. Three close friends gossiped about Christine and the woman she’d slept with last summer, Amy. Her friends told her to move on, but she wouldn’t let the friendship go. They said, “She’ll mess you up.” It was still the same shameful behavior: whispered gossip, stern talks, and scandalous goings-on. Her reality was different from June’s in that Christine didn’t have the same amount to lose. Nothing was a malicious, life-ruining assault.

“We were taking risks. Real risks. Higher stakes than today. I didn’t want to change the world or loosen people’s opinions. I wanted love. She gave me that. So, what else was I supposed to do?” June said. She grabbed at short tufts of hair at the base of her head.

“What people were doing was so important. I don’t want to say it wasn’t. We had love, and we wanted to keep it. We fought that battle every day from our apartment, from our place of work. In a way, very quietly, but we fought. We certainly didn’t change the minds of the world when the murder happened. We acknowledged how strong our love was before the murder. It was so well bonded that I still love her now, after all these years.” Her words softened and rounded as she spoke again about her love. She dipped her head as if the frown that extended cheek to cheek were pulling it down.

Wrinkles emerged in the corners of June’s eyes as Christine tapped her pencil. Christine stopped to cease any errant irritation. When Christine tried to bring June back and force her to be present, talk about the case, June’s vocal qualities changed.

The soft voice June spoke with when talking about the past and love disappeared into one of an aged woman when she spoke about what was going on in her life now. “You see. They all believe me in here now. I love her. My friends in prison. It’s okay to be gay, even though it definitely wasn’t when they locked me up.”

Christine sat stiffly as a board in the chair listening to June, catching every word. As she performed the gesture, she committed to brushing off immature and unserious actions, those not indicative of a law student. She was already in a precarious balance with June, a relaxed new friend facing a studious law student—both skeptical of masked lies, strangers in an unfamiliar room. Christine’s great-aunt Rose was dying. Who was this woman she kept speaking of?

NineStar Press | Books2Read

S.E. Smyth is a versatile author putting words into the world. The stories she tells are never exactly how they happened. Elusive as she proclaims she is, you can usually find her nose buried in primary sources plotting a story. Despite persisting historical references, she wholeheartedly believes she lives in the present.

She resides in a smaller sort of town in Pennsylvania, carries heavy things for her wife, rubs cat bellies, and can often be seen taking brisk walks. The household is certain there is something odd going on. She and her wife travel when the air is right looking for antique stores, bike trails, and the perfect beach. S.E. rises unnecessarily early and usually falls asleep by 9 p.m.

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Black Magic Murder by Polly Holmes Book Tour!

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Black Magic Murder

by Polly Holmes


GENRE: Cozy Mystery


Careful what you wish for!


Graduating to a fully-fledged witch on my upcoming birthday should be a momentous occasion, but when a local hairdresser turns up dead, I know it’s going to be one hell of a week.


Saltwater Cove’s resident infuriating fae looks like a good suspect for the murder, but insists she’s innocent and reveals a huge secret too amazing to be a lie. But if she didn’t do it… then who did?


The murder triggers the return of a dark force… dark enough to send even the most experienced witches into panic mode. Harriet, Jordi and Tyler join me as I try to find the culprit, putting my magical abilities to the ultimate test.


When the killer strikes even closer to home, I need to up my game if I’m going to keep evil at bay.…or have I finally met my supernatural match?





I leaned my head against my hand and pushed the last mouthful of meatloaf around my plate. My gaze was focused on the food in front of me, but my mind was a gazillion miles away.


Who would want Misty dead? What did she do that was so bad it would cause someone to murder her? And how did the Licarbre fern fit into the picture?


“…half-naked…” Tyler’s voice murmured in the back of my mind with that one word breaking through the haze.


Wait…half-naked? Who’s half-naked?


I looked up. “What?”


Tyler was watching me from under his lashes. “I said, ‘I think I’m going to run through the main streets of Saltwater Cove half-naked wearing nothing but my Tweety boxer shorts’.”


My back stiffened and my arm dropped to the table. My brain hurt from trying to make sense of his words. “What are you talking about?”


He sighed, placed his knife and fork together on his plate and pushed it to the centre of the table. Tyler’s face dropped, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to get your attention by lightening the mood, but it seems all I’ve done is confuse you.”


 “Now I feel bad for letting my mind wander and not paying attention to you,” I said my chest tightening with each word. “It’s just that I keep going back and asking myself why. Why would someone want to kill Misty?”




Polly Holmes is the cheeky, sassy alter ego of Amazon best-selling author, P.L. Harris. When she's not writing her next romantic suspense novel as P.L. Harris, she is planning the next murder in one of Polly’s cozy mysteries. She pens food-themed and paranormal cozy mysteries and publishes her books solely with Gumnut Press.


As Polly Holmes, Cupcakes and Corpses was a finalist in the Oklahoma Romance Writers of America’s 2019 IDA International Digital Awards, short suspense category. Cupcakes and Curses claimed second place and Cupcakes and Cyanide gained third place making it a clean sweep in the category.


She won silver in the 2020 ROAR! National Business Awards in the Writer/Blogger/Author category and for the second year in a row, she was a finalist in the 2021 ROAR! National Business Awards winning bronze in the Writer/Blogger/Author category with Gumnut Press taking out the gold in the Hustle and Heart category.


2022 saw Polly Holmes’ books Muffins & Magic and Mistletoe, Murder & Mayhem long-listed in the Davitt Awards, a prestigious award run by the Sisters of Crime, Australia. Muffins & Magic also placed in the finals of the cozy mystery category in the Nashville Silver Falchion Awards.

She lives in the northern suburbs of Perth, Western Australia, with her Bichon Frise, Bella. 

You can visit Polly Holmes at her website: www.pollyholmesmysteries.com or follow her writing journey on Facebook: 


Polly Holmes author Page: https://www.facebook.com/plharrisauthor 

Polly Holmes Readers Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217817788798223 

Polly Holmes Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/plharris_pollyholmes_author/




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Polly Holmes will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.


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