28 July 2023

Agnes's Broken Dreams by Judy King Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #SilverDaggerBookTours

#Fictional #Memoir #Biography #Survivor #Abuse #Drama #AgnessBrokenDreams @judykingauthor

From shattered illusions to resilient determination, 

Agnes's Broken Dreams reveals a tale of courage and redemption.

Agnes's Broken Dreams

by Judy King

Genre: Fictional Memoir 

It's been thirty years since Agnes last visited the country of her birth and upbringing. While it is at the request of her aging, narcissistic mother, she has her own reasons for making the journey to Australia from her home on Mallorca.

Something has blighted her life since childhood. Something has cast such a long shadow over her existence that her ability to grasp at life fully, to appreciate her own sense of self-worth, to attain any semblance of happiness, to trust without reservation, has been damaged. Those whom she chooses, and who choose her, seem to want only to exploit her.

Having undergone a long period of psychotherapy, Agnes can now return to re-experience the places that featured in her youth in the hope that burning questions will be answered, haunting mysteries solved, and buried memories let out into the light…

This is the vibrant, heartening, and often amusing tale of a buoyant and irrepressible woman whose natural energy and determination continue to drive her forward. Having reached middle age, she is determined to grapple with - and heal - the ills that have beset her.

CHAPTER 1.  SURVIVING DANIEL

She is dreading the arrival. Since boarding the plane in London, like a dog pulling against a lead, she has felt she is going the wrong way – sucked back into a past she thought she had escaped forever. Freedom isn’t the price of a plane ticket, she thinks, as we take ourselves wherever we go. Her apprehension has no effect on the big Boeing that, landing with a thud, sways from side to side in a series of kangaroo hops before the mighty brakes tether the beast and bring it to heel. A spontaneous uproar of cheers and clapping explodes in the cabin as the sensation of rolling smoothly on terra firma signals the turbulent flight is at an end. The uproar is tempered when passengers are advised to remain in their seats. Two burly Bermuda-shorted men are enacting the Australian ritual of disinfecting the plane by moving through the aisles to spray the cabin from high-held aerosol cans. When the red-headed one pauses near her aisle seat, his freckly lower arms seem familiar. But, she realises, it is the odour of hair oil, fermented with alcohol-impregnated upper-body sweat, that is resurrecting her long-dead father. The father who holds her from the grave. Who traps her in troubled, hard, blue eyes –before vanishing. 

A deep foreboding amplifies the resistance she is experiencing. All is then quickly swept into the noisy hubbub of movement and chatter that follows the signal to disembark. She is delayed by the act of searching under the seat for a book called ‘Families and How to Survive Them’. She has scoured it for clues during the long flight, in preparation for returning to the place where she was born and grew up. 

The delay means that, when she finally gets to the overhead locker across the aisle, she sees a red-gloved hand at the end of a crane-like arm snatch her stashed duty-free bag and dash away with it through the cabin. She is left with a blurred image of a tall woman with curly auburn hair, merging like a film fade into the avalanche of disembarking passengers. The woman might have been wearing a grey track suit, but she cannot be sure. The red glove, however, sticks in her mind. She imagines herself screaming THIEF! THIEF! as she has seen in the movies but, instead, simply stands there in disbelief, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. 

Conditioned from childhood not to make a fuss when it comes to anything untoward, she doesn’t react like other people. Subterfuge and evasion are old friends. Like a lizard changing colour, she feels safe blending into the background. She never screams. Not that she can remember anyway. Perhaps the potential was killed off in her before it got started. Once or twice, she has contemplated buying a battery-operated ‘screamer alarm’ for her handbag but, because so rarely conscious of her safety, the idea would waft away from her when the threat that provoked it abated. 

All the carefully chosen presents during the stopover in Singapore gone! What can she do? The evidence is flimsy: tall woman, a mass of curly hair that could well be a wig, and an easily removed red glove. Even if she apprehends the thief, it would be no use as, by the time she spots her, the stolen goods would have been transferred and the plastic bag discarded in a convenient bin. 

Agnes bites her lip. Tears sting the back of her eyes, then slither like sluggish raindrops down her cheeks. She is struggling to get a grip. After all you’ve been through in recent years this is a minor blip, she tells herself. For God’s sake just put it out of your mind. It’s not the end of the world. 

A popular quote, attributed to Albert Einstein, and read in a magazine she browsed on the plane, sticks in her mind: ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.’ Her two marriages, and most of her romantic liaisons, had ended in similar fashion. On her knees and seriously out of pocket. If the Einstein quote was accurate, it was a definite confirmation of her insanity. But what is she repeating, over and over? What is it that she cannot see? 

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Anxiety caused by abuse in my early teenager years interfered with my concentration so profoundly, it resulted in amnesia and I lost the ability to read and write fluently. Devested of the power of language indelibly undermined my life. Unable to understand what was happening to me, I felt I had no defence against the judgement of the world which propelled me into a life-time search to discover what lay behind the lost memories.

Agnes’s Broken Dreams, written on the advice of a gifted psychiatrist, is a fictionalize account of my odyssey. Regaining concentration and with it the ability to develop as a writer has been the most miraculous gift of my life.

It is my greatest desire that this book will bring solace to other adult sufferers of childhood abuse.

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Taming the White Wolf (Lone Wolf Legacy Book 1) by N.J. Walters Book Tour! #NJWaltersAuthor#Shifter #Werewolf #SilverDaggerBookTours #SilverDaggerBookTours #SDBookTours

  #EntangledPublishing #books #readers #reading #booklovers #bookbuzz #bookboost #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #OnTour #BookTour #Giveaway

 

Solitude is his fate...until her.


Taming the White Wolf

Lone Wolf Legacy Book 1

by N.J. Walters

Genre: Paranormal Romance

The lone wolf answers to no alpha or pack. From his first transformation, he knows his destiny: to be both judge and executioner for rogue werewolves. Welcome to the spellbinding first book in New York Times bestselling author N.J. Walters intense new werewolf series.

White wolf Devlin Moore has spent nearly the last century following his destiny: hunting rogue werewolves. His fate is to be the only one of his kind—hardened, feared, and brutally ruthless. Only now, Devlin’s not alone. There are two others. And if that wasn’t unsettling enough, Devlin is drawn to New York City for what appears to be a human…

As far as Devlin can tell, vibrant artist Zoe Galvani is no threat. But there’s something about her— from her unusual eyes that look similar to the same shocking hue as his own, to his growing need to mark her as his that suggests magical forces may be at play.

Now there’s no escaping each other, or the attraction that grows stronger by the second. But no one, especially a human woman, should have this effect on a lone wolf. And just when he’s sure that having her could be his undoing…the truth steps out of the shadows.

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Whoever this woman was, she was pure temptation, a dangerous distraction he didn’t need. If anything, he needed to keep his guard up until he discovered why he’d been drawn to her.


She licked her lips again. Unable to resist, he leaned toward her. When she didn’t object, he brushed his mouth against hers. Lust roared through him like a runaway freight train. He almost staggered under the onslaught. Every muscle in his chest rippled as her hand skimmed over it before settling on his shoulder.

 

Mine! The possessive impulse caught him off guard. Wolves mated for life, but not lone wolves. As the name implied, they were solitary creatures by necessity.

 

Inhaling sharply, he sorted through myriad scents. Beneath the layers of sweat, liquor, and artificial fragrance lay a richer one—sweet with a hint of arousal—hers. It went straight to his dick, making it throb. Then he caught a darker, musky scent mixed with a hint of blood.

 

A low growl escaped him before he could swallow it back. Everything inside him stilled as he scented his quarry. Needing to be sure, he buried his face against her neck and shoulder. It was stronger near her back. There was no mistaking it. This was no mere brush from someone passing by. The rogue had marked her with several drops of his blood.

 

Either she was involved with the rogue he was hunting, or the male had watched him save her life earlier and decided to draw her into their deadly game of hide-and-seek. Whatever the reason, she’d been marked. Rogues chose their victims at random to leave no pattern to track, but this was deliberate.


Once upon a time N.J. had the idea that she would like to quit her job at the bookstore, sell everything she owned, leave her hometown, and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the bookstore and her hometown and settled in for another seven years.

One day she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first romance novel and life would never be the same.

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks--all vie for her attention. It's a tough life, but someone's got to live it.

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Watch Your Back by @stacy.claflin Book Blitz! #stacyclaflin #watchyourback #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

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Watch Your Back
Stacy Claflin


(Ariana Jones, #1)
Publication date: May 22nd 2022
Genres: Adult, Thriller

Even perfect neighborhoods have deadly secrets.

Ariana and Damon moved to the gated neighborhood of Rosy Hills to leave behind their traumatic pasts. Now they have their dream jobs and are part of a tight group of friends. All of that crumbles when their neighbor Rita disappears without a trace.

Now it looks like one of their own could be a killer. Ariana and Damon must figure out who it is, or they risk never finding Rita alive. If they don’t reach her in time, they could all end up dead…

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“Rita, where are you?” he called.

She readied herself to run again.

His footsteps sounded close. “Ready or not, here I come.”

She held her breath. Waited.

Had to get the shoes off.

“Rita…”

A shiver shot down her spine.

“You can’t hide forever,” he said, now sounding farther away.

Stomach lurching, she peeked around the corner.

He neared the swings, his back to her.

She loosened the buckle on her right pump. It stuck. Resisted.

Footsteps grew closer.

Now he was heading her way.

She froze. Tried to fix her buckle. Fumbled.

“There you are!”

Heart nearly giving out, she turned.

He stood halfway between the playground and her.

Rita leaped to her feet and ran. Her right shoe clung to her foot loosely, the buckle not fully undone. Made it hard to remain steady. She kicked, trying to free herself from it.

Finally lost it as she darted between bushes. Rough bark dug into her bare foot. Then concrete as she reached the sidewalk. Her hips protested the three-inch difference between her two feet, one shoed and the other not.

“Gotcha!” His arms wrapped around her middle. He squeezed.

She struggled and kicked, barely able to breathe. “Help! I’m being—”

He covered her mouth.

She bit his finger.

He swore at her. Didn’t let go. Pulled her back toward the park.

Rita squirmed and flailed. Scratched at him.

She wasn’t going down without a fight.

They flew to the ground.

She landed with a hard thud.

He crashed on top of her.

She pushed and strained to get out from under him.

“This could’ve all been avoided,” he grunted. “I only wanted to talk.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She tried to push him off.

“Don’t you see we’re meant for each other?”

Rita almost laughed at the irony of his words. “This is your way of winning me back?”

“You have to see the obvious.”

The truth was clearer now than before. But pointing that out wouldn’t do any good. Just needed to get away. Get her phone back and call the cops.

Had to think fast.

“You think we can work things out?” she asked, and stopped resisting.

“If you’re willing to change.” He loosened his hold.

She bit back a sarcastic retort. Needed to get him to move off her. “What do you want me to do?”

“You have to stop flirting with guys at the bar, for starters,” he said, giving her more space.

Not enough to run.

“Let’s talk about that,” she said.

He rolled off her and started to say something.

Rita jumped up and ran.

He called after her.

She raced to the park. Through it.

He screamed profanities at her, getting closer.

She yelled for help. For all the good that would do.

Her restaurant came into view.

All she needed was to get to her car. Her fingerprint would start it. Thank God for technology. She’d lost her keys and purse somewhere along the way. Hadn’t even noticed when.

She reached her property.

Something hard struck the back of her head.

Rita flew forward. Landed hard on the ground, her car just out of reach.

Another hit to the head.

Everything went black.

Stacy Claflin is a USA Today bestselling thriller author who has published more than 75 novels, including Girl in Trouble and The Perfect Death. She has always been curious about the human mind, and in her quest to learn more, she earned a degree in Psychology. Her favorite course was Abnormal Behavior, which has been useful in writing fiction.

Her love for thrillers goes back to her early childhood when she fell in love with Unsolved Mysteries and America’s Most Wanted. When Stacy was five, she got mad at a babysitter who wouldn’t let her watch the evening news. These days, she spends her free time listening to true crime podcasts or watching documentaries on the subject.

She has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, and as child would often get into trouble for trying to convince friends her wild tales were true. Now she puts her creativity to better use by writing page-turning stories that leave readers begging for more.

Stacy occasionally dabbles in other genres, so as you peruse her library of works, you’ll find some romance and paranormal tales, all with strong suspense elements.

Join Stacy's newsletter to get three free novels: https://stacyclaflin.com/newsletter

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Release Tour for Twist of Date by Lauren Helms! @LaurenEHelms #TwistOfDate #HEAIncseries #SecretFling #MatchmakerRomance #FriendsToLoversRomance

  

Layla James has always been in the business of love and never mixes business with pleasure, but when Cole Reed walks back into her life, she’s left questioning everything. Can this blast from the past convenience Layla to set her rules aside and take a chance on love? Fans of secret fling romances will love TWIST OF DATE by Lauren Helms, a steamy matchmaker romance.

Read Now!

 
 

Amazon https://bit.ly/3IYHZyC 

Once upon a time, there was a charming restaurant owner and an unsuspecting matchmaker who refused to mix business with pleasure…

Layla
I've always been in the business of love. Happily Ever After, Inc. has thrived under my leadership and the hard set of rules that I set for myself. But when a never quite forgotten blast from my past walks into my life, I'm suddenly questioning everything and everyone around me.

Cole Reed is everything I want in a man - handsome, successful, and charming.

There's just one small hiccup...Cole is Happily Ever After's latest client, and he's got his sights on me.

Cole
I'm used to getting what I want and I've never left a date unhappy. So when my grandmother insists I need to work with a matchmaker...her lifelong best friend at that...I'm skeptical. Especially when my path crosses with the girl that always seemed to get away.

She's sexy, smart, and determined - everything I've always admired about her. And this time, I refuse to let her get away.

There's just one small problem...Layla James is my so-called matchmaker's granddaughter - and the owner of the matchmaking company that's just taken me on.

It feels like a weird twist of date that's put the two of us back in each other's life, but Layla doesn't quite see it that way.

Can I convince her to break a few rules and take a chance on our own happily ever after?


Add to Goodreads!


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Excerpt 

Copyright 2023 @Lauren Helms

** Language

“For real, though, a matchmaker? Really, Cole?”

I groan and cover my face with my hand, scrubbing my palm over my eyes then down my cheeks and chin. “Long story short, my grandma asked Ruth to do her a solid and get me settled down. So Ruth went through her song and dance. I think she may have mind ninja’d me into agreeing to be her newest client.”

“Well, shit.” He barks out a laugh.

“Yeah. So I guess I’ll be going on prearranged dates and stuff. I’m not one hundred percent sure what this whole thing involves.”

“I’m here for it, though. This is gonna be one hell of a ride, brother. Entertaining as fuck, I’m sure.” Travis is going to have a blast with this.

“Here’s the crazy thing, though. Ruth’s granddaughter, who actually owns the company, I went to school with her. We had a few business classes at IU and kinda hung out in the same crowd. We were never a thing, but I think we both wanted to be.”

“Oh, snap,” he mutters. “Tell me more.”

“I didn’t know she was related to Ruth, but I saw her today. We chatted a little. I gave her my number. I want to catch up with her.”

“Is she hot?”

I glare at him, his use of the term hot rubbing me the wrong way when it comes to Layla.

He throws his hands up and adds, “What? It’s a legit question. It’s okay if she’s not. You don’t always have to date a ten, man.”

I shake my head, annoyed. “No, Layla is a fucking twelve. She was a solid ten back in college, but she’s even more beautiful now.”

Travis whistles. “Damn, you’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t, just wasn’t expecting to run into her today. It’s been ten years.”

Travis hits me with the back of his hand. “Oh, oh, what if Ruth sets you up with her? Can’t you just ask your matchmaker to set you up with people?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I doubt it works like that, but maybe.” I trail off. Maybe I should ask Ruth about Layla. If she’s single and I’m single, maybe we can finally give it a go.

“Well, I’m team Layla then, man. That’s who I want you to give your first rose to. Oh, and then I’ll be the friend that she gets to meet before you take her home to meet the parents. It’s gonna be an intense ride getting to that final rose ceremony.” He gushes. I see the smirk.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? This isn’t a dating show, it’s my life, and I’m not even sure I’m going to go through with it.” I stand from the chair and walk toward the door.

“You’ll do it. Or Dorthy is gonna come hunt you down,” he says from the couch.

He’s not wrong.

“I’ll be back down around six on my way out. You better not be here.” I point at him and give him my best “I’m your boss” glare.

“Oh, hey, if you can fit it into your busy dating schedule”—I roll my eyes at his dig, but he doesn’t miss a beat and continues—“trivia night is coming up at that books and coffee place a few blocks from my apartment. Theme is ’90s Pop Culture. Wanna go and destroy the other teams?”

I chuckle because of our hobbies, the pop culture trivia is the one we both enjoy the most. He is training at becoming a blacksmith, and me, well, I’m a sucker for a good Dungeon and Dragons campaign. But trivia? Put us in a team and we are unstoppable.

“Sure, send me the info and I’ll add it to my calendar.”

“You got it, boss.” He salutes.

“Don’t call me that,” I grumble as I walk out his office door.

“If the shoe fits,” he yells after me. I raise my hand and flip him off, shaking my head at his laugh that follows me down the hallway.

He’s got about two hours before he needs to be kicked out for the night, so I’ve got two hours to get some work done and focus on my task list.

No more thinking about the gorgeous brunette from my past.

At least that’s what I tell myself anyway.

 

About Lauren Helms

Lauren Helms is a romance author her nerdy and flirty contemporary words. Lauren has forever been an avid reader from the beginning. After starting a book review website, that catapulted her fully into the book world, she knew that something was missing. While working for a video game strategy guide publisher, she decided to mix what she knew best--video games and romance. She decided to take the plunge and write her first novel, Level Me Up. Several published novels later, Lauren created PR company, Indie Pen PR, to help other authors promote their books. 

 Lauren lives in Indianapolis, Indiana sharing her love of books and video games with her own Gamer Boy husband and three young kid nerds who will hopefully grow up to share the love of things that united Lauren and her husband on their own happily ever after.

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This promotional event is brought to you by Indie Pen PR

27 July 2023

Enchanted Realms Tales of Fantasy in Light and Shadow Release Blitz!

For the first time, these 13 award-winning authors collaborate 

on fantastic novellas of adventure, magic, dragons, quests, fae, and war!

Enchanted Realms

Tales of Fantasy in Light and Shadow

with stories by

Richard Fierce, R. Kyle Hannah, Jeanne Hardt, William Heinzen, Kenyon T. Henry, Abigail Keam, J.L. Lawrence, Sandy Lender, Philip Ligon, Carl R. Moore, E.G. Rowley, Steven L. Shrewsbury, Stephen Zimmer

For the first time, these award-winning authors collaborate on fantastic novellas of adventure, magic, dragons, quests, fae, and war!

Find your next favorite fantasy world among these enchanted tales--from dragons to fairies to creatures you’d never dream of. Fantasy has been re-imagined for your reading pleasure in this boxed set of original novellas. Let them carry you to lands you won’t want to leave with fully fleshed—and sometimes scaled—characters you can’t help but cheer for--on adventures you may not survive…

If you like reading J.R.R. Tolkien, Terry Goodkind, and Ursula K. Le Guin, you will love Enchanted Realms. No matter your typical fantasy flavor, Enchanted Realms offers a tantalizing feast for your senses.

** Preorder now for only .99cents! **

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Della and the Dragon's Sword

by Sandy Lender

The clever Della Smithieson returns to a dragon’s lair not knowing if the beast will help her—or roast her for her audacity. She’s on a quest to retrieve a cursed sword for a wizard, unaware of the trap the ancient dragon set for her two winters ago, unaware of the covetous evil lurking in the fetid fields around her old home. This psychological horror story of dragon manipulation and #GirlPower is set in Sandy Lender’s fantasy world of Onweald and appears for the first time in Enchanted Realms: Tales of Fantasy in Light and Shadow, from Jumpmaster Press.





Excerpt from Della and the Dragon’s Sword, by Sandy Lender

The Demon Fight Scene, from chapter 1

(653 words)


A beast clicked its claws along the Anthelk Mountain pass in pursuit of her—the dragging hit of thick nails against stone gaining ground behind her with each step she took. It was time to make her stand against the threat, before she found herself fighting a demon that could see more clearly in the dark than she.

Grasping the hilt of a too-short dagger at her belt, Della struggled to soften her breath. Tried to listen over her blood sloshing in her brain to hear from where the creature approached. She glanced up.

Blast.

The chasm where she sought shelter gave way to a ledge where any number of monsters could stand. Then drop onto her. She mouthed a prayer to the gods, hoping at least one in Mahriket was paying attention.

Good luck, girl, she told herself.

She pulled the knife clear of its leather sheath and put its tip to the wall near the deflated satchel resting against her hip. With a calculated arc, she swirled her wrist, so the forged iron dragged in a metallic scrape for the space of a breath.

The creature grunted nearby.

In fact, the vile thing had crept close enough that she heard the bones in its neck snap toward her position. It gurgled deeply, lowly—a growl of anticipation. Its rotting-flesh stink wafted in her direction, along with the whine of tiny, winged insects seeking flesh to aggravate.

She fought her gag reflex, holding her open hand to her stomach.

Instead of giving in to sickness, she tightened her grip on the weapon—holding it pointed backward as Trume had taught her at the conclave.

I need a longer blade.

She glanced furtively around her feet for a rock, a stone, any jagged shard from the path that she could grab to bludgeon the creature’s mouth if it should rush her. She had to keep its teeth and claws at bay. If this was an edras—which is what it smelled like—she had to keep its venom off her skin.

I should’ve demanded a sword before I left.

She bent her knees, lowering her torso vertically down the rock face—momentarily catching the satchel strap on some blasted outcropping that probably bruised her flesh—to reach for a fist-sized rock about a hand’s width from her boot. Curling her long geasa’n fingers around it, she shifted it in her grip, so the smoothest surface positioned in her palm and the most jagged edge jutted out from between her thumb and splayed digits.

It’s my own fault. I should’ve picked up a sword on the way here. I had a full turn of the moons to change this insipid plan.

That’s when time slipped away for Della. Crouched close to the ground, basic weapons in each hand, she cringed at the putrid heap of flesh-covered bone landing not six feet from her. An edras demon hit the stone-and-earth path on all fours, powdering dust clouds around its feet and claws. Its alopecic head brought its snake-slit eyes level with hers. Slime-lined vocal cords vibrated a slippery, alto growl. “I know who you are, Della Sssmithiessson.”

Her whole body shuddered. No one in the world of Onweald wanted an edras singling him out; it meant someone in a position of power had called on this foul-smelling beast, summoning it from the dark spirit realm to find her specifically.

“Fight for your life,” it commanded lowly. “One who will not be named wantsss your valuable carcassss.”

The urge to run sent the geasa coursing through her. Blood thundered violently to her brain like the Wepanchiele River in flood. If I stand, I expose too much of myself. She could lunge to the left from her crouched position, could dive and dart away from this menace.

Except now the familiar hit-click of thick nails sounded from the left.

By the gods, there are two of them.


Sandy Lender is a construction magazine editor by day and author of #GirlPower fantasy novels by night, living in Florida to help with sea turtle conservation and parrot rescue. You can follow her author page on Amazon, check her website at SandyLenderInk.com, or subscribe to her newsletter at https://bit.ly/SSReNews.

With a four-year degree in English and thirty-year career in publishing, Sandy’s successes include traditionally and self-published novels, hundreds of magazine articles, multiple short stories in competitive anthologies, a handful of technical writing awards, and a handful of creative writing awards and nominations. Sandy’s been writing stories since she was knee-high to a grasshopper when her great-grandmother shared her odd little tales of squeaky ghost-spiders around an apartment complex in Southern Illinois. The stories have developed to include strong young ladies working with dragons to save worlds from terrible fates, but those pesky spiders still show up from time to time.

There’s always something brewing at Sandy Lender Ink headquarters where some days, you just want the dragon to win.

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