Reviews!

To any authors/publishers/ tour companies that are looking for the reviews that I signed up for please know this is very hard to do. I will be stopping reviews temporarily. My husband passed away February 1st and my new normal is a bit scary right now and I am unable to concentrate on a book to do justice to the book and authors. I will still do spotlight posts if you wish it is just the reviews at this time. I apologize for this, but it isn't fair to you if I signed up to do a review and haven't been able to because I can't concentrate on any books. Thank you for your understanding during this difficult time. I appreciate all of you. Kathleen Kelly April 2nd 2024

15 July 2021

Informative Guide to Living your Best and Longest Life Tour and Q&A!




Five Things Your Mom, Dad or Disabled Friend May Not Be Telling You

Everyone eventually has physical challenges as he or she ages. Many of my girlfriends and I started having arthritis or other painful hand issues as early as our late 50’s or early 60’s, and we sure did not consider ourselves old! I have had a mostly paralyzed leg from polio since I was three, so am aware of hidden difficulties, and also know that people with disabilities or physical challenges often don’t like to bring them up. Frequently people feel that admitting these issues is also conceding to aging, or that people don’t want to hear about physical problems. Well, no one likes to hear a lot of grousing, but it’s important to know if our relatives or friends need a little compassion or assistance.

1.     Pain or weakness are not always obvious. People have different pain tolerances, and sometimes people will put up with pain and try to hide it until there is physical detriment which might not be reversible. Tendinitis (painful tendon) can be healed with rest and physical therapy, and tendinosis (permanent damage to a tendon) requires making adjustments to live with it. If your friend or relative is limping a little, that’s almost always due to pain or weakness. Please don’t say, “Oh don’t let it bother you, just keep walking.” Shorten the hike and kindly ask what the problem is. A trip to a doctor may be in order.

2.     People in wheelchairs hate to be patted on the head, just as deaf people don’t like to be shouted at. These are condescending actions. Patting someone on the head when they are seated is treating them like a child or a pet. Additionally, it’s hard on one’s neck to talk to people at length when they are standing above you. So sit down in a chair where you’ll have direct eye contact and relate on a more equal basis; if it’s just a brief set of comments, squat next to the person.

3.     Many disabled or challenged people hate to ask for help unless it’s a dire circumstance, such as a fall. I need assistance much of the time, and rather than ask for it constantly, I save up my requests for the most significant needs. Mom may find shopping more difficult, or not be able to lift things as “light” as ten pounds. I finally learned to ask for carry out help at the market, rather than keeping up the pretense that I didn’t need help. When someone casually asks, “Need a hand?” it’s easy to say “Yes.”

4.     “I don’t want to be seen on a mobility scooter but I sure wish I didn’t have to walk this far.” When I realized I was starting to need a scooter, I was an accountant and went to three-day tax seminars, which were held at huge convention centers or hotels. It’s never been easy for me to walk the distances other people can, and these big venues became exhausting for me. But I had a biased mindset that people who used scooters were either obese and lazy, or giving up on themselves, and that walking was always good for me and others. I had a prejudice about disabilities, even though I had one! Walking is not always good for people if it causes pain or exhaustion. I tried renting scooters on vacations, and had a much better time! I eventually bought a folding one that comes apart which I can lift into my trunk. Mine is a TravelScoot, but there are others; some are heavier and good for rougher terrain but may require a helper, a van or a lift in order to transport them. I saw a guy with a nifty golf-cart-looking one recently; it was red, streamlined, had a windshield and roof, and would be good for the two-mile distance from my home to our nearest shopping center.

5.     “This house (and/or garden) has gotten too difficult for me to maintain, but I love my home and don’t want to think about moving.” This can be a tough one. If you notice that your mom’s or friend’s place is looking a little dirtier, messier or shabbier than it did in the past, there are a few approaches I’d suggest. One is to offer to chip in when you visit, or offer a particular time when you could come by for an hour to help clean, sort, or whatever. If there’s money to pay for extra help, you might say, “I have a great cleaning lady / gardener / handyman I think you would love; I’ll leave the phone number for you,” or offer to make the call. (Word to the wise: My 82-year-old mom refused help from her church, though her eyesight was so bad that she couldn’t see the dirt. She was too proud to have a “stranger” come in.) If things have gone beyond needing just a little help, it’s time to address finding a new and easier home environment; this is especially true if memory becomes an issue. Bring up these kinds of conversations far in advance of when a move or change is needed. Sometimes parents don’t feel comfortable with their adult kids “nosing through the checkbook” or changing things in the home, so a good way to begin this is to offer to help in small ways so that the parent (or friend) feels safe with your participation. We all love our homes to be bastions of privacy and safety. Abrupt changes are especially unsettling the older we become.

Some things about aging are welcome: the freedom from a full time job, or having time to read or see friends more often. But physical difficulties will come to all of us, and they always feel they’ve come too soon. Your gentle non-invasive inquiries about someone’s needs will likely be welcomed and generate a closer relationship!

Francine Falk-Allen, Author of No Spring Chicken: Stories and Advice from a Wild Handicapper on Aging and Disability, and Not a Poster Child: Living Well with a Disability—A Memoir

https://FrancineFalk-Allen.com

www.Facebook.com/francinefalkallenauthor


Travelling with Your Wonky Knee or Other Testy Body Parts—Five Tips

It won’t be long before the pandemic will be far enough behind us that we can at least travel in the US. Fingers crossed! My husband and I are thinking we’ll look for places that have reached very high vaccination rates or low viral incidence within a local population; New Mexico and Hawaii are starting to look good. And speaking of research, when you can travel again, the first thing I recommend for the physically challenged traveler is:

1.      Research the place you’d like to go. It may be that you have always wanted to visit a setting that has looked lovely in pictures, but further research may tell you that it’s a very hilly area, and that most of the accommodations are two-story bed and breakfasts. This is fine for someone in tip-top shape, but I have had a weak, partially paralyzed leg from polio since childhood, and I have learned that there are many places with elevators and flatter terrain that are easier—and more fun—for me to visit. I recommend using www.TripAdvisor.com (I’ve placed a lot of reviews there myself) and Lonely Planet’s free accessible travel guides, https://shop.lonelyplanet.com/products/accessible-travel-online-resources-2019 (no later version available). Rough Guides are also very good.

2.     If you have walking difficulty and are flying, and do not have a scooter you’re going to be bringing along, arrange with the airline to have an attendant push you in a wheelchair to the gate, and another to meet you at the other end to take you to baggage claim. Do not be proud! If you think you will be embarrassed, that’s better than being exhausted or in pain by the time you get to your destination. Be sure to tip each attendant; generally around $3-$5 is appropriate. Most airlines will let you arrange for a wheelchair online; if not, call in advance or arrange this when you check your bags or check in in person at the airline counter. Allow extra time; attendants can take twenty minutes to arrive to pick you up. If a slow walker, always allow at least ninety minutes between connecting flights. And reserving a scooter with an equipment rental facility at your vacation spot might turn out to be the best decision you ever made; use it for longer distances, then stop and walk around a bit when you’d like.

3.     When reserving your hotel, if you have walking difficulty or fatigue problems, ask for a room that is not at the end of a hallway. Tell them you have a disability, even if you do not think of yourself as disabled. It’s OK to think of a hip that needs replacing or a very arthritic ankle as a disability, and the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) requires hotels to accommodate those who ask. An ADA room will always be closest, but, they are set up for wheelchairs, and the room will be sparse of furniture, have very low clothing poles in the closet, and have a roll-in shower with no tub. So if that is not what you want, ask for a room that is NOT an ADA room but is as close as possible to the elevator. Confirm a day or two before arrival that the hotel has noted this. If you or Dad are in a wheelchair but will want to use the pool, make sure it is accessible; some hotel pools I’ve used are accessible and some are not.

4.     Check out a few activities well in advance; if you need to get concert tickets and don’t want to climb stairs to your seats, arrange to get first floor seating ahead of time. Most museums now have wheelchairs available for your companion to push. (Easy, as long as there are not steep ramps such as at the San Francisco Academy of Sciences! Use their elevator instead.) If you’re on your own, a manual wheelchair may be too difficult because they require a lot of shoulder power. Be ready to let a few activities go, rather than over-tiring yourself. Companions of older or less strong travelers should be aware that jamming a day with one wonderful event after another may not turn out to be so wonderful. Leave time for spontaneity and just sitting in a scenic park with a cuppa.

5.     If someone offers to take you on a vacation, even just a day trip, take him or her up on it. Again, I emphasize, do not be proud! Please don’t think or say “It will be too much trouble.” It may be a little trouble, but what great experience you’ve had was not worth a little effort? When you are at an exhilarating outdoor concert, or watching birds on a beach, it will have been well worth packing up and letting someone assist you.

Getting outside, even around the neighborhood to see trees in season, is known to refresh our bodies, minds and souls. If actual travel is not in the cards for you in the near future, there are lots of travel videos available, more now than ever since we’ve all been stuck at home for a year. Here are a few good (free) substitutes for actual travel, and I’m sure you will find lots more online. https://goldencarers.com/armchair-travel/www.RickSteves.com/videos  (Europe), and Google Arts and Culture, The Hidden Worlds of the National Parks (and more) https://artsandculture.google.com.

Francine Falk-Allen, author of No Spring Chicken: Stories and Advice from a Wild Handicapper on Aging and Disability, and Not a Poster Child: Living Well with a Disability—A Memoir  

https://FrancineFalk-Allen.com

www.facebook.com/FrancineFalkAllenAuthor

Francine Falk-AllenTell us about your new book. 

No Spring Chicken addresses what we all face eventually: aging and the physical difficulties that can ensue. 

I’m a polio survivor who knows a thing or two about living with a disability, and offer my take on how to navigate the complications aging brings with equanimity (and a sense of humor). Part I is a jaunt through accessible travel pleasures and pitfalls; Part II addresses the adaptations caregivers can make for a mutually rewarding relationship with their loved ones, plus advice for physically challenged and aging persons themselves regarding exercise, diet, pain management, mobility, care tips and more; and Part III discusses the rewards of engaging with support groups sharing similar issues, with a little activism and advocacy for good measure.
I’m told it’s accessible and wryly funny, and is a fun and informative guide to living your best and longest life―whatever your physical challenges, and whatever your age.

What inspired you to write it? 

Well, again, I have a lifetime of experience to share about how to take care of oneself with a physical challenge, handicap or disability, and enjoy life as much as possible at the same time. I thought it would be useful to those facing the later years of life, or even younger people with a disability, or family and friends who are perhaps stumped about how to face their loved one’s challenges.

What is the one aspect that you hope readers learn from it? 

I hope they take away that there is almost always something we can do to improve at least one aspect of our condition, if not many, and to keep functioning as best we can in order to enjoy whatever opportunities present themselves to us.

As family members age, what should we keep in mind? 

That they are the same people they have always been with the same needs and desires, and they want to keep participating in life to the extent possible. Also, generally, aging people could use a little or even a lot of assistance, but most of us hate to ask, and only ask when it’s a dire necessity. There are exceptions of course, but most people I know prefer to be as independent as possible. So chipping in more than you used to without an air of “You should have asked me for help” or “Mom, you aren’t keeping your house clean enough anymore” is likely to be appreciated.

What adaptations should we make for our loved ones? 

Ask what is most needed rather than assuming we know. Remember that walking can become more difficult and think about what you can do to make this accommodation. For instance, renting a mobility scooter for family outings or vacations can allow Grandma or Mom to participate fully. A friend surprised me with this on a vacation in Hawaii and it made all the difference; I had a much better time since I could not walk the long distance to the beach or even to the pool in the complex, and it was helpful when we went shopping as well.

You have traveled many places as someone living with a disability. What are your favorite places to travel? 

Ooh, there are so many great places. I love Maui, Hawaii; Edinburgh, Scotland; New Orleans, LA; Butchart Gardens on Victoria Island, BC, Canada; Kilkenny, Ireland; New York City, NY; and of course, Paris, France.

What do you look for when deciding on a vacation spot? 

My husband and I both like places with beautiful scenery, and/or perhaps some culture such as concerts, or music clubs. We sometimes go to museums as well, but find that we can only do a couple of hours of a museum before we start to feel overwhelmed. We also are very interested in history and the culture of the people in the area we visit, and we like places with very good restaurants. (I start to feel ill if we eat too much fast food or simple carbs.) We sometimes plan a trip in order to see friends or family, also. For getting around, there have to be paved walkways for my scooter, or we take a lot of cabs or rent a car. I cannot go for long walks, but like to go places where I can scoot around, and then get off the scooter and walk a bit and see things up close, or sit in a park or on a beach and read. Sometimes I paint a watercolor, so I appreciate a really nice view.

With regard to lodging, my first priority is that the hotel is easy and either has an elevator or is one-story, since stairs are very difficult for me, and also has food service in case I’m too tired to go out. Next would be that if there is not a restaurant in the hotel, there is one next door! And I always try for a place with a warm accessible pool if possible. I always call ahead to make sure the staff does not put us down a long hallway, because then sometimes I may be able to go to the lobby or restaurant without needing to use my mobility scooter.

Share some of your favorite self-care tips. 

I do a little yoga and core strengthening every single morning, and I do pool therapy a few days a week. Stretching and keeping up what strength you have is important in order to stay mobile. I also avoid eating large amounts of simple carbohydrates (basically, white foods!) but I do try to eat a large amount of vegetables! It’s important to keep weight down, or to at least not become obese, to avoid or keep in check joint pain, heart disease, diabetes and cancer. And of course all that helps just to assist yourself in feeling great so that you have a positive attitude. Also, I rest regularly, and sometimes take a little nap, and get at least six or seven hours sleep every night. I think meals or tea dates with friends, reading good books, watching inspiring movies and spending time outdoors are also great ways to reduce stress and increase a feeling of peace and well being.

Do you have any advice for someone who wants to be an activist? 

Look for others who are already activists in the issues you care about. Someone has probably already got a group going and would love your participation and assistance and perhaps your knowledge and experience. If you can’t find that, you can start a group; I describe how to do that in my book. If you are housebound, you can research on a computer and stay informed with news on PBS and other reliable channels, and there are websites you can access which recommend what actions you can take, such as signing petitions or donating money, or making phone calls. Some groups will continue meeting on Zoom now that that is established. I am on an Americans with Disabilities Act accessibility committee in my town, which has met via Zoom during the pandemic, and I started a polio support group some years ago.

Anything else you would like to add? 

I truly hope people will buy and enjoy No Spring Chicken, or ask for it at their local library, and suggest it to their friends and family. If they do, it’s helpful to the success of any book, especially for someone who is not a celebrity author, to leave a very good rating or review on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes and Noble or Walmart’s book review pages. Do remember that anything less than four or five stars is considered poor, though, by the algorithms that run those sites.

Even if people don’t read either of my books (my first book was Not a Poster Child: Living Well with a Disability—A Memoir, about growing up with a disability and navigating the world as a women with a disability), I hope that everyone who has physical difficulty is finding ways to keep on enjoying life! That’s what I’m intending to do. Later this year, we’re hoping to visit someplace like Hawaii or New Mexico, where there is a high number of vaccinated people and a low incidence of the Covid-19 virus.

Happy trails to all!

 


Minor Trouble by Julie Archer Release Tour!

Seth Hudson’s relationship with the teenage son is hanging on by a thread. Guidance counselor Ainsley Coren is ready to help the father and son reconnect. Will Seth and his son be able to move forward and with Ainsley by their side, or will this minor trouble become too much? Readers will swoon for this redeemed hero romance featuring a sexy but lovable bad boy dad. Fall in love with your next book boyfriend with Minor Trouble by Julie Archer, the last book in the Single Dad’s Romance series.

Read Now!

Seth Hudson has a reputation for being the “bad boy”. Trouble in his teen years led him down the wrong path but now, at almost thirty, he’s gotten his life together and things are going well. Until the fateful phone call that changes everything. 

Thirteen years ago, Seth fathered a child and was all but forced out of the boy’s life. With Noah’s mother passing away, it’s up to Seth to step up to the plate and raise the son he barely knows. But what does he know about parenting a teenager? 

Ainsley Coren has just moved to Cali Cross and is starting over as the high school guidance counselor. It doesn’t take long for her to encounter the troubled teen and his single father who are holding on by a thread. 

Making it her mission to help save this broken family, Ainsley steps in and goes above and beyond with the father and son duo. The more time she spends helping them, the more she slowly finds herself falling for the reformed bad boy/single dad. 

Can they make things work or will Ainsley bolt at the first sign of minor trouble?

Minor Trouble is an angsty contemporary romance featuring a redeemed hero and the guidance counselor who steals his heart. Download today and get ready to fall in love with your next favorite book boyfriend.

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Excerpt 

Copyright 2021 Julie Archer

“I know it’s a lot to take in, Seth. You can contact me any time if you’ve got any questions.”

Numb, I swallowed hard and nodded. Then, realizing that Carol from Child Protective Services couldn’t see me, I found my voice. “Sure, of course I will. Thank you.”

“I’ll be in touch again so we can finalize everything.”

I almost nodded again. “Thank you. Talk soon.”

The line went dead.

It had been a Thursday just like any other.

Fixing cars, making plans for the weekend, chatting shit with Maddox.

Until the call that spun everything off its axis, turned the world upside down, and any other cliché you’d care to toss in for good measure.

My vision swam, legs trembling as I walked out of the office and back into the main part of the garage and over to the car I’d been working on. I grabbed the wrench to pick up where I’d left off, but it tumbled out of my grip clattering on the concrete floor with an almighty crash.

“Seth? You okay, buddy?” Maddox Riley called from the other side of the garage.

I tried to dislodge the huge lump in my throat, anything but okay. “Yeah, all good,” I managed.

“Shit, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost. You’ve gone really pale.”

Ha, she was haunting me already. I raked a hand through my hair. If I didn’t tell Maddox what was going on, he’d find out soon enough. I had to hope he was as flexible a landlord as he was a boss.

“You got a minute? There’s something you should know.”

He glanced up from the engine he’d been looking over. “Sure, gimme a sec.”

I headed towards the open door, inhaling a lungful of fresh air.

After a couple of minutes, Maddox joined me. “What’s up? Who was on the phone?”

“Child Protective Services needed to talk to me about Noah.”

Noah was my thirteen-year-old son: the result of an illicit relationship when I was sixteen with a cheerleader two years older than me.

“Is he okay?”

Slowly, I nodded.

He was fine.

He hadn’t been in the truck with his mother, her boyfriend, and her parents. He’d been hanging out with one of his buddies playing video games. For once, I thanked God for Noah’s Fortnite obsession.

“Then why did CPS need to talk to you?” Maddox rubbed at an oil mark on his wrist, eyes focused on trying to remove it.

“There was a car accident.” The lump grew even larger, making it increasingly difficult for me to get the words out. “Hannah, her mom and dad, her boyfriend—” My voice cracked. “Didn’t make it out. They’re gone.” Saying it out loud took some of the burden off of me, and I could at least share it with Maddox.

His eyes grew wide, staring silently at me.

Disbelief, confusion, anger, grief.

Without another word, he pushed me out of the way and pulled on the chains to shut the doors to the garage.

“We’re closing,” he stated. “I can’t let you go through this on your own.”

Once Maddox had made a few calls to let customers know about the unexpected early finish, we headed upstairs to the tiny apartment above the garage. After I’d come out of jail—a six-month stint for petty theft—Maddox had been my lifeline. He’d offered me a job through an offenders’ rehabilitation program, which had come with the apartment. Its one caveat was I could never be late for work.

Taking charge, Maddox got two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator, popped the caps, and handed one to me. We went over to the sofa and sat down at each end.

“Have you spoken to Noah?”

I shook my head, gulping down the beer. “Not yet.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

I chewed on my lips, fingernails scratching at the label on the beer bottle. “I’m his biological father and the only living relative he has. I have to step up. There isn’t anyone else.”

About Julie Archer

Julie Archer is the author of contemporary romance featuring rock stars, small towns, a healthy dose of angst, some steamy times and always a happy ever after!

When not writing, she can usually be found binge watching teen drama series on Netflix, or supporting Spurs (the English Premier League football team, not the American basketball team!) from my armchair, and running around after her two feline children, Corey and Elsa.

Real angst. Real romance.

Follow: Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads | BookBub | Website| Newsletter | Amazon |

About the Single Dad’s Romance Series

Seven single dads, all from different walks of life and doing the best they can to raise their children - are ready to make you fall in love. 

From the celebrity dad just trying to protect the ones he loves from the spotlight...to the silver fox who's out to prove it's never too late to have a family of your own - this single dads collection guarantees to bring you a whole lot of love and of course, a happily ever after. 

Look no further, your next book boyfriend is here!

Follow the @IndiePenPR FB Page for all the Single Dad's news: https://www.facebook.com/IndiePenPR

This promotional event is brought to you by Indie Pen PR

14 July 2021

The Highlander’s Pirate Lass by Heather McCollum Reveal!

The Highlander’s Pirate Lass
Heather McCollum
(The Brothers of Wolf Isle, #2)
Publication date: August 23rd 2021
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance

Description TBA

Sequel to:

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Author Bio:

Heather McCollum is an award-winning, historical romance writer. With over twenty books published, she is an Amazon Best Seller and a Readers' Choice winner.

The rugged beauty and rich history of Great Britain captivates Ms. McCollum each time she visits. The country's history and landscape have been a backdrop for her stories since her very first book.

When she is not dreaming up adventures and conflict for brawny Highlanders and feisty heroines, she spends her time educating women on the symptoms of Ovarian Cancer. She is a survivor and resides with her very own Highland hero and three spirited children in the wilds of suburbia on the mid-Atlantic coast.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter


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Grace in Hollywood by Kari Bovee Book Tour and Giveaway!

 


Join us for this tour from June 22 to July 19, 2021!

​​Book Details:   

Book Title:  Grace in Hollywood - A Grace Michelle Mystery by Kari Bovee
CategoryAdult Fiction (18 +), 336 pages
GenreHistorical Mystery
Publisher:  Bosque Publishing
Release date:   May 25, 2021
Content Rating PG + MBook has mature themes; adultery, murder, bigamy, but there is no bad language.​ 

Book Description:

All that glitters… is sometimes blood. With her golden ticket buried in the ground, can she save a wrongly accused teen from the gallows?
Hollywood, 1924. Promoted to lead costume designer of a star-studded film, Grace Michelle should be on top of the world. But between her husband’s debt, her sister’s recent death, and the troubled teenaged girl she’s fostering, she’s struggling to please everyone and still keep a smile on her face. And when a Tinseltown shindig turns deadly, Grace is horrified to discover her young charge unconscious alongside the director’s grisly corpse.

Determined to prove the girl’s innocence, Grace’s own haunted past fills her sleep with prophetic nightmares. And no sooner has she sought clarity from a medium than a second body lands the scared teenager in the slammer.

Can Grace turn the camera on the real culprit before another victim ends up on the cutting room floor?

Grace in Hollywood is the second book in the riveting A Grace Michelle Mystery historical series. If you like fiercely loyal heroines, thrilling whodunits, and the magic of old cinema, then you’ll love Kari Bovee’s enthralling tale.​

BUY THE BOOK:
Amazon
Add to Goodreads

Also Available for Your Mystery-Reading Pleasure: 


Book Details:

Book Title: Grace in the Wings - A Grace Michelle Mystery by Kari Bovee
CategoryAdult Fiction (18 +), 340
Genre
Historical Mystery
Publisher:  Bosque Publishing
Release date:   September 19, 2019
Format available for review e-book (mobi file (for Kindle), ePub, )
Will send print books out:  USA
Content Rating PG + MBook has mature themes; adultery, murder, bigamy, but there is no bad language.​ 


Book Description:
 

A ghost from her past. Her sister murdered. Can Grace slay her demons and find the killer before she ends up dead?
 

New York City, 1920. Grace Michelle has everything she wants: a home, a family, and a future career as a costume designer for famed showman Florenz Ziegfeld, Jr.’s Ziegfeld Follies. Pretty good for a girl who once lived on the streets of New York City. But when her sister, Sophia, the star of the show, is murdered, Grace’s safe and protected life is shattered.

Battle-scarred by the war and emotionally scarred by his past, Chet Riker has made it a practice to keep his distance from others; love, after all, leads only to pain. But Chet has a problem—a big one: he’s become indebted to mob-boss Joe Marciano in an attempt to save his estranged mother’s life, and Marciano wants him to pay up or else. Desperate to get the money, he contacts former client Florenz Ziegfeld for work.

Soon, Chet finds himself playing bodyguard for introverted Grace, who has reluctantly agreed to be Ziegfeld’s new leading lady—on the condition that Ziegfeld promises to find Sophia’s killer. Upon meeting Grace, Chet quickly finds his hardened theory that love equals pain tested. Grace, meanwhile, is swept up in a life she never wanted as the Follies’ star, and as the pawn in a series of publicity stunts during a transcontinental train trip to California that puts her life at risk. Who would want her and Sophia dead? Together, she and Chet must confront publicity-hungry Florenz Ziegfeld, power-driven Joe Marciano, and their own pasts to find Sophia’s killer—and let themselves love once again.

BUY THE BOOK:
Amazon
Add to Goodreads


Meet the Author:

When she’s not on a horse, or walking along the beautiful cottonwood-laden acequias of Corrales, New Mexico; or basking on white sand beaches under the Big Island Hawaiian sun, Kari Bovee is escaping into the past—scheming murder and mayhem for her characters both real and imagined, and helping them to find order in the chaos of her action-packed novels.

An award-winning author, Bovée was honored with the 2019 NM/AZ Book Awards Hillerman Award for Southwestern Fiction for her novel Girl with a Gun. The novel also received First Place in the 2019 NM/AZ Book Awards in the Mystery/Crime category, and won First in Category in the International Chanticleer Murder & Mayhem Awards. It was also a finalist in the 2019 Next Generation Indie Awards. Her novel Grace in the Wings won First in Category for the 2019 International Chanticleer Chatelaine Awards. Peccadillo at the Palace won Grand Prize in the 2019 Goethe Awards, and was a finalist in the 2019 Best Book Awards Historical Fiction category.

Bovée has worked as a technical writer for a Fortune 500 Company, has written non-fiction for magazines and newsletters, and has worked in the education field as a teacher and educational consultant.


Connect with the author:  Website ~ Goodreads ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Instagram
~ Pinterest

Tour Schedule:

June 22 – Working Mommy Journal – book review / giveaway
June 22 - Cover Lover Book Review – book spotlight / giveaway
June 23 – Books Lattes & Tiaras – book review
June 24 – JB's Bookworms with Brandy Mulder – book spotlight / giveaway
June 25 – Rockin' Book Reviews – book review / giveaway
June 28 – Rajiv's Reviews – book review
June 29 – Elizabeth McKenna – Author – book spotlight / giveaway
June 30 – Lisa Everyday Reads – book spotlight / author interview
June 30 - Olio by Marilyn – book review of GRACE IN THE WINGS / giveaway
July 1 – Sadie's Spotlight – book spotlight / author interview
July 2 – She Just Loves Books – book review
July 2 - PuzzlePaws Blog - book review of GRACE IN THE WINGS / giveaway
July 6 – @twilight_reader – book review
July 7 – Jazzy Book Reviews – book spotlight / author interview / giveaway
July 7 - I Read What You Write – book review / author interview / giveaway
July 8 – Splashes of Joy – book review / author interview / giveaway
July 9 –Literary Flits - book spotlight / giveaway
July 9 - Olio by Marilyn – book review / giveaway
July 12 –Bigreadersite - book review / giveaway
July 12 - PuzzlePaws Blog - book review / giveaway
July 13 – Wickedly Romance – book review / author interview / giveaway
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Enter the Giveaway:

GRACE IN HOLLYWOOD (Grace Michelle Mystery) Book Tour Giveaway

 


13 July 2021

The Moonshine Shack Murder (A Southern Homebrew Mystery) by Diane Kelly Book Tour and Giveaway!

The Moonshine Shack Murder (A Southern Homebrew Mystery) by Diane Kelly

About The Moonshine Shack Murder

 

The Moonshine Shack Murder (A Southern Homebrew Mystery) 

Cozy Mystery 1st in Series 

Publisher: Berkley (July 6, 2021)

Mass Market Paperback: 304 pages 

ISBN-10: 0593333225 

ISBN-13: 978-0593333228

Digital ASIN : B08KPKD22T 

In this intoxicating new cozy mystery series, the future for modern-day moonshiner Hattie Hayes looks bright--until death darkens the doorstep of her Moonshine Shack.

 

The Hayes family has made moonshine in Chattanooga since the days of Prohibition, and Hattie is happy to continue the tradition, serving up fun, fruity flavors in mason jars for locals and tourists alike. All signs indicate her new 'shine shop will be a smashing success. What's more, mounted police officer Marlon Landers has taken a shine to Hattie. For the first time ever, the stars seemed to have aligned in both her work and romantic life. But when a body ends up on her store's doorstep alongside a broken jar of her Firefly Moonshine, it just might be lights out for her fledgling business.

 

The homicide detective can't seem to identify the person who killed the owner of a nearby bar. The only witness is Hattie's longhaired gray cat, and Smoky isn't talking. When the detective learns that the victim and Hattie had a heated exchange shortly before his murder, she becomes her prime suspect.

 

Lest Hattie end up behind bars like her bootlegging great-grandfather a century before, she must distill the evidence herself and serve the killer a swift shot of justice.

The Moonshine Shack Murders 

Chapter One

The machinery sloshed, whirred, jangled, and clinked as I stood in breathless anticipation at the end of the conveyer belt on the factory floor. Where is it? Come on! After another jangle and clink, the rubber safety strips that hung over the machine’s exit hatch swung outward, and there it was—the first jar of my Firefly brand moonshine, the mason jar’s aluminum lid sparkling in the light from the fixtures overhead. 

“Woo-hoo!” I threw my fists in the air and snatched the jar from the belt, planting a big kiss on the label before hugging it to my chest. Melodramatic maybe, but this jar had been years in the making. I’d invested my heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into my new moonshine business, not to mention every last cent I’d saved and then some. The first payment on my bank loan would be due in two short weeks. Good thing my Moonshine Shack would be ready to open for business first thing Monday morning, only three days from now. 

I slipped the inaugural jar of shine in my tote bag and readied a cardboard box. Another jar exited the hatch and began its journey down the metal rollers, shimmying like one of Beyoncé’s backup dancers. I grabbed the jar and tucked it into a corner of the box, adding eleven more as they jiggled their way toward me over the next two minutes. The ancient bottling machine wasn’t fast, but it was efficient enough for my small-batch operation and the factory manager had charged me a fair price to use it.  

A quick zip-zip with the strapping tape dispenser and the box was sealed and ready to be loaded into my secondhand cargo van for transport to my shop. I’d had the van painted day-glow green and affixed magnetic signs with my Firefly Moonshine logo to both sides. Might as well advertise my wares while I drove around town, right? My good friend Kiki, a freelance artist, had designed the whimsical logo for me. The graphic featured two flirty cartoon fireflies writing in fluorescent green against a midnight blue background. The first firefly used his bright behind to spell FIREFLY. The other used her dazzling derriere to spell MOONSHINE. The image was cute and eye-catching, perfect for my products. 

The floor supervisor circled around to check on things. “Everything all right over here, Miss Hayes?”

My dark curls bobbed as I turned to him. “Looking good!” I pointed to the carton at my feet. “My first case. Isn’t it marvelous?”

He chuckled. “Never seen anyone get so excited about their products.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? Moonshine’s in my blood.” 

It was true, figuratively and, sometimes, literally. Back in the days of prohibition, my great-granddaddy was the number-one bootlegger in the region, the primary supplier of hooch all the way from his hometown of Chattanooga, Tennessee south to the Chattahoochee River in Georgia. He’d made a small fortune before the sheriff arrested him. While my great-grandfather lost the fortune to revenuers, homestead laws allowed him to hang on to his rustic cabin in the Smoky Mountains and the rusty still hidden among the pine trees at the back of his property. He’d passed the cabin, the still, and the secrets of making shine along to my granddaddy, who’d passed them down to me when he’d moved into the Singing River Retirement Home a few years ago. 

Yep, making moonshine was a family tradition, and it was high time the Hayes family started making money at it again. 

###

With money-making in mind, I drove my van to the Moonshine Shack late Friday afternoon. The place was adorable, if I do say so myself. I’d hired a carpenter to create a front façade that resembled a hillbilly house. He’d fashioned an awning of spare boards that appeared haphazardly nailed together for effect, but which was completely up to code and had easily passed inspection. The words MOONSHINE SHACK were spelled out in neon-green glow-in-the-dark letters over the awning. I’d situated a couple of wooden rockers and a porch swing out front to entice tourists to sit a spell. Shamelessly stealing an idea from the Cracker Barrel restaurants, I’d also set out a small table and two stools so customers could challenge each other to a game of checkers, chess, or cards. I wanted the ‘Shine Shack to be a comfortable, inviting place with a casual country charm. But, even more, I wanted it to be a smashing success. I’d left a secure job with Chattanooga Bakery, Inc., maker of the world-famous MoonPie, and sacrificed a regular paycheck and the promise of a pension. I’d hate for it to have been for naught.   

I circled around to the alley, parked, and hopped out to unlock the back door that led to the storeroom. My gray cat Smoky, named for the nearby mountains, lay atop the wooden desk in the corner, watching me with his firefly-green eyes as he lazily licked a paw. The cat weighed upwards of sixteen pounds and, unless food was in the offing, rarely moved, more cinder block than companion. I greeted him, as always, with an affectionate scratch under the chin and a “Hey, boy. Did you miss me?” His yawn told me that my absence had not affected him in the least. Hurtful, sure, but I’d long since accepted that ours would be a one-sided relationship.

Even with help from a dolly, moving the cases from the van to the storeroom proved to be backbreaking work. The muscles in my arms strained and shook, unused to being punished so severely. Smoky cast me a look of disdain each time I groaned or grunted. Next batch, I’d box the moonshine in smaller cases of six jars rather than twelve.

As I rolled the dolly outside to round up more moonshine, my ears picked up an unexpected sound. Clop-clop-clop. I turned to discover a mounted police officer riding up the alleyway on a beautiful chestnut mare. The horse’s reddish-brown coat gleamed in the sunshine as she tossed her flaxen mane. The officer wore his uniform with black riding boots, a helmet, and mirrored sunglasses. Despite being built like a sculpted boulder, he rode with a graceful athleticism, at one with his steed. 

Clop-clop. When they reached me, the officer pulled back on the reins and spoke to his horse. “Whoa, Charlotte. Let’s find out what this little filly is up to.”

It took me a moment to realize I was the “little filly” he spoke of. Standing a mere five feet, I was undeniably small. But I made up for my stature in tenacity and sass. I looked up at the officer to see a set of broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and myself looking back, reflected in his sunglasses. I angled my head to indicate his horse. “I see you’ve got a thing for leggy blondes.”

He sat silent and unmoving for a few beats before his lips spread in a slow smile. He ducked his chin and reached up to ease his sunglasses down, gazing at me over the rims, his amber eyes lit up like lightning bugs in amusement. His focus shifted to the logo on my van and the cartons of liquor before returning to my face. “A bootlegger, huh? I suspect you’ll cause me no end of trouble.” 

“I can’t make any promises, officer.”

In a swift, smooth move, he slid down from his horse to stand directly in front of me. He towered over me by at least a foot, putting him around six-feet-two-inches tall and putting me on eye level with his rock-hard pecs and his name badge. M. LANDERS. Why does that name sound vaguely familiar? 

Officer Landers removed his glasses and tucked them into the collar of his uniform. “I’ll give you a hand. Charlotte needs a rest, anyway.”

With my back and biceps screaming for mercy, I wasn’t about to turn him down. “Thanks.”

He tied his horse’s reins to a water pipe before reaching up to remove his helmet. When he did, he released a cascade of loose, short curls the color of buckskin. He ran his hand through his hair and it settled into a contemporary pompadour, short on the sides, longer on top. He resembled a rockabilly artist, or a blond version of Elvis from his early years. I felt the heat of a blush warm my cheeks. 

He grabbed a case from the back of the van and tucked it under one arm before grabbing another. As he turned to carry them through the back door of my shop, he spotted Smoky standing sentinel in the doorway. “Is your guard cat going to attack?”

“Smoky?” I stepped over and scooped my precious pet up in my arms. “He’s harmless.” Smoky stiff-armed me, pushing his paw against my chest, playing hard to get. Three years into our relationship and I was still trying to win the furry guy over. Maybe someday.

The cop eyed my cat and shook his head. “That there is why I prefer horses. They show some affection now and then.”

Smoky issued a hiss, as if he understood he’d been insulted. As if she’d understood she’d been praised, Charlotte issued a nicker. 

The officer stepped past me and my cat and into my storeroom, glancing around. “Where should I put these boxes?”

Returning Smoky to the floor, I gestured to an empty shelf. “Right there is fine.”

After he’d placed the cases of moonshine, the guy crouched and reached out to run a hand over Smoky’s head. “No hard feelings, buddy. I’ll forgive you that hiss.”

Smoky responded with a guttural growl. The cop countered with a chuckle.

With the brawny officer’s help, my van was unloaded in no time. As he set the last case in the storeroom, I fished a jar out of a box. “Here. Take some moonshine on the house.” I held the jar out to him, an expression of my gratitude.

He raised his palms. “Can’t. If the captain catches me on duty with liquor in my saddlebags, Charlotte and I will end up on the unemployment line.”

“Oh. Okay.” Though his reason for refusing my moonshine was valid, I couldn’t help but feel rejected. 

My feelings must have been written on my face, because he tilted his head and said, “I’ll come back to collect some time when I’m off the clock. How’s that sound?”

“How about Sunday evening?” I asked, hoping I didn’t appear overeager. “You free then?”

“Sure am.”

I set the jar of moonshine on my desk and picked up an envelope, holding it out to him. “Take this. It’s an invitation to my private pre-grand-opening celebration.”

“A private party? Well, now. This makes me feel special.” He took the envelope, removed the invitation, and read it over before returning his gaze to my face. “Count me in.”

“You can bring a plus-one if you’d like.” Okay, so I was fishing to find out whether this attractive officer was attached. But unless you counted movie nights on the sofa with Smoky, I hadn’t had a date in months. Could you really blame me? 

Much to my delight, he said, “It’ll just be yours truly. Charlotte’s the only girl for me.”

Good to know.

I followed him back into the alley, where he donned his helmet, untied his horse, and murmured sweet nothings to her, giving her a soft peck on the muzzle before remounting. He looked down at me a final time. “Be extra careful when you’re out here and keep your back door locked,” he warned. “Thieves sometimes come down these alleys looking for stuff to steal. A tiny thing like you would look like an easy target.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” I raised two fists and shadow-boxed the air before lowering my arms to my sides. 

Judging from the quirk of his upper lip, Officer Landers was not impressed. “If anybody gives you trouble, sic Smoky on them and call 9-1-1 right away. You hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, sir.”

With that, he tipped his helmet in goodbye, gave his horse a light squeeze with his muscular thighs, and headed off. 

As the officer and his horse clop-clop-clopped away from my shop, I issued a sigh and rolled the dolly into the corner of the storeroom where it would be out of the way. I opened the door to Smoky’s extra-large plastic carrier and walked over to the desk to round him up. A twinge puckered the muscles across my lower back as I lifted the hefty cat. “That’s it, boy. I’m putting you on a diet.”

I carried him out to the van and locked up my store, being extra careful and double-checking to make sure the deadbolt had hit home. Twenty minutes later, Smoky and I wound our way up the curved gravel drive that led to the two-bedroom, one-bath cabin the two of us called home. The place measured a paltry 800 square feet, but it had nonetheless hosted many a Hayes family holiday over the years. My mind held fond memories of summer evenings spent catching lightning bugs in mason jars with my siblings and cousins while our grandfather worked the still. 

I parked next to the cabin and slid out of the van, greeted by the slow chirp of crickets. A trio of fireflies sketched secret symbols in the evening sky as I carried Smoky up the creaky steps to the porch. It was late April, but the air remained cool at the upper altitudes once the sun went down. A little moonshine would warm me up, wouldn’t it?

I stepped into the cabin. While the interior walls bore standard drywall with soft green paint, the exterior walls were formed from reddish Douglas fir logs, looking the same on the inside as they did on the outside, as if the house had invited nature in. Though I’d kept many of my grandparents’ furnishings—the antique trestle table, the steamer trunks, the roll-top desk—I’d replaced their early-American velveteen couch with a more stylish faux-leather sectional. I’d also added bookshelves, a flat-screen television, and a carpet-covered cat tree for Smoky. The place was a wonderful mix of old and new, of mountain traditions and modern comforts.  

I released Smoky, who made a beeline for his food bowl. I followed after him, pulling the jar of shine from my tote bag and placing it on the counter. While I planned to save my first jar of Firefly Moonshine as a cherished memento, I had plenty of my granddaddy’s rotgut in the pantry. I grabbed a jug, splashed an ounce or two into a glass, and topped it off with lemonade. Other than condiments, a jar of pickles, and the pitcher of lemonade, my refrigerator was bare. Having devoted every spare second over the last few months to getting my business off the ground, I’d had little time to grocery shop. Luckily, I found a frozen pizza in the freezer that could serve as my supper. 

Twenty minutes later, I was stretched out on the couch with a plate of pizza on my lap and the glass of spiked lemonade in my hand. After polishing off every last morsel in his food bowl and washing his whiskers with his paw, Smoky wandered up, stopping for a moment to sharpen his claws on the braided rug. I looked down at him. “Another Friday night at home, just me and you,” I said. “I need to get a life, don’t I?”

He hopped up onto the couch and curled up next to me, letting me know he was perfectly content with me having no life whatsoever. Selfish cat.


About Diane Kelly

Diane Kelly writes stories that feature feisty female lead characters and their furry, four-footed friends. Diane is the author of over 30 novels and novellas, including the Death & Taxes, Paw Enforcement, and House Flipper mystery series. In 2021, she’ll launch two new series, the Southern Homebrew moonshine series and the Mountain Lodge Mysteries. Find Diane online at DianeKelly.com, on Twitter and Instagram @DianeKellyBooks, and on Facebook at her Author Diane Kelly page.

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