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Saturday, April 30, 2016
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Friday, April 29, 2016
New Releases / Free & Bargain Books
Sharing the Love of Books
Enjoy our selection of New Releases / Free & Bargain Books this week
Authors please feel free to add your own books
Readers please free to add your own finds
(any genre except erotica welcome)
This weekly link up is hosted by Beck Valley Books & these awesome book loving blogs...
Monday
Life as Leels | IrishdaisylovesRomance | Book Babble | All Romance Reader
Tuesday
It's My Side of Life | Celticlady's Reviews | First Time Mommy Adventures | Bound 2 Escape
Wednesday
Beck Valley Books | A Library of Reviews | Cinnamon Hollow Reviews
Thursday
Miki's Hope | Nicki's Nook
Friday
Ebook Addicts | I Love Romance | A Bit Bookish | Mother Distracted | Colorimetry | The Ultimate Fan Blog
Saturday
Totally Addicted to Reading | 3 Partners in Shopping | Angie's Angle | I Creat Purty Thangs | Wishful Endings
Sunday
Lynchburg Mama | LibriAmoriMiei | Ali - The Dragon Slayer | Wondermom Wannabe | My Bizzy World | Deal Sharing Aunt | Rambling Reviews
For Pre-orders post - PRE-ORDER / genre / title /author
For New Releases post - NEW / genre / title / author
For Free Books post - FREE / genre / title / author / end date
For Bargain Books post - SALE / price / genre / title / author / end date
(Strictly no Erotica please. Steamy romance is fine but watch those covers people, incase any underage child is viewing it!)
(Strictly no Erotica please. Steamy romance is fine but watch those covers people, incase any underage child is viewing it!)
Here is this weeks awesome selection!
Would you like to share our linkup on your site? click here
Would you like to become a weekly host? sign up here
Come back and check out the new selection every week x
The Body in the Wardrobe by Katherine Hall Page Book Tour and Book Review
The Body in the Wardrobe
by Katherine Hall Page
on Tour April 26 - May 30, 2016
Minster’s wife, caterer, and part-time sleuth Faith Fairchild pairs up with Sophie Maxwell, last seen in Body in the Birches and now a newlywed living in historic Savannah, Georgia, where Sophie crosses paths with murder. Attorney Sophie Maxwell has come to Savannah to be with her new husband, Will. But nothing throws cold water on a hot relationship faster than a dead body. Worse for Sophie, no one believes the body she knows she saw is real, Will is spending an awful lot of time in Atlanta on a case he claims is urgent, and she’s been tasked with house hunting for them with his former sweetheart, who Sophie can’t help but suspect wishes Sophie would return to her Yankee roots!
Fortunately, Sophie has a good friend in Faith Fairchild. With teenage Amy being bullied by mean girls and husband Tom contemplating a major life change that will affect all the Fairchilds, Faith is eager for distraction in the form of some sleuthing. In between discussions of newlywed agita, surprising Savannah customs and, of course, fabulous low country food, Faith and Sophie will pair up to unmask a killer!
Book Details:
Genre: Cozy Mystery Published by: William Morrow Publication Date: April 26th 2016 Number of Pages: 256 ISBN: 0062439502 (ISBN13: 9780062439505) Series: Faith Fairchild Mystery Purchase Links:
Author Bio:
Photograph by Jean Fogelberg[/caption]
Katherine Hall Page is the author of twenty-two previous Faith Fairchild mysteries, the first of which received the Agatha Award for best first mystery. The Body in the Snowdrift was honored with the Agatha Award for best novel of 2006. Page also won an Agatha for her short story “The Would-Be Widower.” The recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award at Malice Domestic, she has been nominated for the Edgar Award, the Mary Higgins Clark Award, and the Macavity Award. She lives in Lincoln, Massachusetts, and Deer Isle, Maine, with her husband.
Catch Up with Katherine Hall Page -
Tour Participants:
Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours
My review
I have read other books by author Katherine Hall Page and I have enjoyed each of them. "The Body in the Wardrobe" is no exception! Attorney Sophie Maxwell is now living in Savanah. She has come to be with Will who is her new husband. No one believes Sophie when she says that she has seen a body. On top of that Will is doing a lot of work in Atlanta and she has to look for a house for them to buy. Even Will's former girl-friend is helping her find a house. Sophie's friend Faith Fairchild wants to come and help. Faith and Sophie will have to figure this out on their own. The recipes are wonderful and I cannot wait to try them. I give this book a 5/5. I was given this book by Partners in Crime Virtual book Tours and these are all my opinions.Thursday, April 28, 2016
Mars...With Venus Rising by Hope Toler Dougherty Book Tour, Book Review and Giveaway
Travel to the small town of Mars, where you'll find a meddling horse, paper bag floors, and a flying saucer on the town square—in Hope Toler Dougherty's book, Mars . . . with Venus Rising. Penn Davenport dreams of passing the CPA exam and moving away from the two aunts who reared her after her parents died in a plane crash. When John Townsend—full of life and the joy of living—moves to town, he rattles Penn's view of herself, her life, and her dreams . . . which isn’t such a bad thing until she falls for him and discovers he’s a pilot.
Celebrate Hope's Mars . . . with Venus Rising blog tour with a Kindle Fire Prize Pack giveaway!
One grand prize winner will receive:
Mars . . . with Venus Rising (Pelican Book Group, August 2015)
A meddling horse, paper bag floors and a flying saucer on the town square. The little town of Mars has it all—including a brand new resident who might spell heartache for one of its own.
Twenty-something Penn Davenport yearns for an exciting life in the big city and wants to shed the label of orphan that she’s worn for years. To achieve that dream, she must pass the CPA exam then move away from the two aunts who reared her after her parents died in a plane crash.
When John Townsend—full of life and the joy of living—moves to town, he rattles Penn’s view of herself, her life, and her dreams…which isn’t such a bad thing until she falls for him and discovers he’s a pilot.
Learn more and purchase a copy.
Hope Toler Dougherty holds a Master's degree in English and taught at East Carolina University as well as York Technical College. A member of ACFW, RWA and SinC, she writes for Almost an Author. Before writing novels, she published non-fiction articles on topics ranging from gardening with children to writing apprehension. She cheers for the Pittsburgh Steelers, ACC basketball, and Army West Point Football. Hope and her husband, Kevin, live in North Carolina and chat with their two daughters and twin sons through ooVoo.
Penn Davenport has decided to move away to the city and start new but, she has to complete a couple of things before she can. She lives in a small town called Mars with her two aunts who have taken care of her because her parents died in a plane crash. Then a man who seems wonderful comes to town. Penn is very affected by him until she finds out he is a pilot. What is she going to do? Will she be able to forget what happened to her parents and changed her life forever? I really liked this storyline and the characters. I give this book a 4/5. I was given this book by Litfuse publicity and these are my opinions.
Celebrate Hope's Mars . . . with Venus Rising blog tour with a Kindle Fire Prize Pack giveaway!
One grand prize winner will receive:
- A copy of Mars . . . with Venus Rising
- A $25 Amazon gift card
- A Kindle Fire
Mars . . . with Venus Rising (Pelican Book Group, August 2015)
A meddling horse, paper bag floors and a flying saucer on the town square. The little town of Mars has it all—including a brand new resident who might spell heartache for one of its own.
Twenty-something Penn Davenport yearns for an exciting life in the big city and wants to shed the label of orphan that she’s worn for years. To achieve that dream, she must pass the CPA exam then move away from the two aunts who reared her after her parents died in a plane crash.
When John Townsend—full of life and the joy of living—moves to town, he rattles Penn’s view of herself, her life, and her dreams…which isn’t such a bad thing until she falls for him and discovers he’s a pilot.
Learn more and purchase a copy.
Hope Toler Dougherty
Previous Campaigns
My review;Penn Davenport has decided to move away to the city and start new but, she has to complete a couple of things before she can. She lives in a small town called Mars with her two aunts who have taken care of her because her parents died in a plane crash. Then a man who seems wonderful comes to town. Penn is very affected by him until she finds out he is a pilot. What is she going to do? Will she be able to forget what happened to her parents and changed her life forever? I really liked this storyline and the characters. I give this book a 4/5. I was given this book by Litfuse publicity and these are my opinions.
Murder on Safari by Peter Riva Book Tour, Book Review and Giveaway
Book Description of Murder on Safari (Book 1):
Only a reality TV producer and an expert safari guide can stop a terrorist attack.
Every
adventure starts at the fringes of civilization. For expert safari
guide Mbuno and wildlife television producer Pero Baltazar, filming in
the wild of East Africa should have been a return to the adventure they
always loved. This time they’d be filming soaring vultures in northern
Kenya and giant sea crocodiles in Tanzania with Mary, the daughter of
the world’s top television evangelist, the very reverend Jimmy Threte.
adventure starts at the fringes of civilization. For expert safari
guide Mbuno and wildlife television producer Pero Baltazar, filming in
the wild of East Africa should have been a return to the adventure they
always loved. This time they’d be filming soaring vultures in northern
Kenya and giant sea crocodiles in Tanzania with Mary, the daughter of
the world’s top television evangelist, the very reverend Jimmy Threte.
But
when a terrorist cell places them in the crosshairs, there is suddenly
no escape and they must put their filming aside and combine all their
talents to thwart an all-out al-Shabaab terrorist attack on Jimmy
Threte’s Christian gathering of hundreds of thousands in Nairobi, Kenya.
when a terrorist cell places them in the crosshairs, there is suddenly
no escape and they must put their filming aside and combine all their
talents to thwart an all-out al-Shabaab terrorist attack on Jimmy
Threte’s Christian gathering of hundreds of thousands in Nairobi, Kenya.
Author's Bio:
Peter
Riva has spent many months over 30 years travelling throughout Africa
and Europe. Much of this time was spent with the legendary guides for
East African hunters and adventurers. He created a TV series in 1995
called Wild Things for Paramount. Passing on the fables, true tales, and
insider knowledge of these last reserves of true wildlife is his
passion. Nonetheless, his job for over forty years has been working as a
literary agent. In his spare time, Riva writes science fiction and
African adventure books. He lives in Gila, New Mexico.
Riva has spent many months over 30 years travelling throughout Africa
and Europe. Much of this time was spent with the legendary guides for
East African hunters and adventurers. He created a TV series in 1995
called Wild Things for Paramount. Passing on the fables, true tales, and
insider knowledge of these last reserves of true wildlife is his
passion. Nonetheless, his job for over forty years has been working as a
literary agent. In his spare time, Riva writes science fiction and
African adventure books. He lives in Gila, New Mexico.
Connect with the author: Website Twitter Facebook
My review;
"Murder on Safari" by author Peter Riva is the kind of book that gets you hooked from the very first pages. The novel takes place in beautiful Africa. Pero Baltazar is a film producer of wildlife for television. He is with a guide whose name is Mbuno when they realize that they will have to stop terrorists who are going to attack a place where thousands of Christians are going to be meeting. This story has it all mystery, suspense and a beautiful location. I give this book a 5/5. I was given this book for a review and these are my opinons.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
My review;
"Murder on Safari" by author Peter Riva is the kind of book that gets you hooked from the very first pages. The novel takes place in beautiful Africa. Pero Baltazar is a film producer of wildlife for television. He is with a guide whose name is Mbuno when they realize that they will have to stop terrorists who are going to attack a place where thousands of Christians are going to be meeting. This story has it all mystery, suspense and a beautiful location. I give this book a 5/5. I was given this book for a review and these are my opinons.
Not Quite So Stories by David S. Atkinson Blog Tour and Giveaway
We're thrilled to be hosting David S. Atkinson's NOT QUITE SO STORIES blog tour today! Be sure to enter the giveaway to win a copy of either BONES BURIED IN THE DIRT or GOOD AND EVIL PANCAKES!
Author: David S. Atkinson
Publisher: Literary Wanderlus LLC
Pages: 166
Genre: Absurdist Literary Fiction
The center of Not
Quite So Stories is the idea that life is inherently absurd and all people
can do is figure out how they will live in the face of that fact. The traditional
explanation for the function of myth (including such works as the relatively
modern Rudyard Kiping's Just
So Stories) is as an attempt by humans to explain and demystify the
world. However, that's hollow. We may be able to come to terms with small
pieces, but existence as a whole is beyond our grasp. Life simply is absurd,
ultimately beyond our comprehension, and the best we can do is to just proceed
on with our lives. The stories in this collection proceed from this conception,
each focusing on a character encountering an absurdity and focusing on how they
manage to live with it.
For More Information
- NOT QUITE SO STORIES is available at Amazon.
- Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.
- Watch the book trailer at YouTube.
TURNDOWN SERVICE
Margaret's
heels clicked repetitiously on the polished marble floors of Finklebean's
Mortuary. The sharp sound echoed down aisles of metal-faced vaults in the
chilled, solemn hallways. Her steps were quick but purposeful, her stride
constrained by the tight skirt of her starched navy business dress. An invoice
was clutched tightly in her talon-like hand. Someone owed her an
explanation…and that debt would be paid.
Catching sight of the plain brown wooden door hidden off in a back hallway bearing a faded Caretaker's Office sign, Margaret halted, causing her heels to clack loudly on the stone. She pursed her lips as she scrutinized the sign. As if using the white metal sign with flaking black letters as a mirror, she adjusted the smartly coiled chestnut bun of her hair. Then she shoved open the weathered door and marched inside.
"Excuse me," she called out sternly before looking what the room happened to contain, or even whether it was occupied.
A portly man in old blue coveralls sitting at a rough wooden worktable looked up at her calmly. Long stringy gray hair framed his face around a set of coke bottle eyeglasses perched on the end of his reddened bulbous nose. A metal cart, half full of plastic funeral flower arrangements, was positioned next to the worktable. Individual plastic flowers littered the table surface.
Unlike the somber and silent polished gray marble trimmed in shining brass of the hallway outside, the caretaker's room felt more like a basement or garage. The walls were cinderblock, unpainted, and the floor was bare concrete. Obviously, the room was not used for professional services.
"My bill is incorrect," Margaret said, thrusting the invoice out at the frumpy little man between a thumb and forefinger, both with nails bearing a French manicure. "You maintain my grandfather's plot, but this month's bill is way over the usual twenty-five sixty-three…nine hundred dollars more to be precise. You may not be the person in charge of this, but you're who I found."
The older man quietly looked at her still presenting the invoice even though he had made no move to take it. "Name?"
"Margaret Lane," Margaret said curtly.
"No," the caretaker shook his mess of oily old hair. "I won't remember you. I meant your granddad's."
Margaret pursed her lips again. "Winston Lane."
"Ah, yes." The heavyset man leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and cocking out his elbows. His belly pushed on the table slightly, causing loose plastic flowers to roll around on the tabletop. The flowers were separated into piles according to color: red, white, yellow, purple, and orange. "Winston Lane. His is over on hillside four, I believe."
"I'm sure." Margaret crossed her arms, still clutching the invoice. "So why do I have a bill for over nine hundred dollars?"
The caretaker hunched forward, setting his chin on a pudgy arm and wrapping a flabby hand around his mouth. "Let's see…Winston Lane…bigger than normal bill…oh, that's right!" His face brightened with recollection.
Margaret smugly waited for the expected rationalization to begin, the extras and add-ons designed to take advantage of the gullible grieving. She wouldn't be so easily manipulated.
"He got an apartment."
Margaret's expression cracked.
"That's what the extra money is," he pleasantly explained. "It's to cover the rent."
Margaret stared, blinking occasionally. A thin purple vein throbbed angrily at the side of her neck.
The man smiled. Then he pushed his round glasses further back up his nose and grabbed one of the plastic funeral arrangements from the cart. It had a block of dense green foam set in a fake bronze vase and various colors of plastic flowers stuck in the foam. The man pulled all the flowers out in a single movement and set each in the respective colored pile on the worktable. Then he placed the vase in a pile of similar vases on the floor.
"You…rented my grandfather an apartment?" Margaret finally asked. "Why?"
"Don't be ridiculous," the older man snorted, dismembering another arrangement. "He rented the apartment, not us."
Margaret sneered, having recovered her self-possession and indignation. "Sir, my grandfather is deceased."
"Yep," the caretaker agreed. He started quickly taking vases from the cart, ripping them apart, and then tossing the materials in the respective sort piles. "Guess he didn't like the plot he picked out. Maybe it wasn't roomy enough, I don't know. Some things like that you just can't be sure of till you get in a place and stay there a while. Anyway, he must not have liked something about it because he went and got himself that apartment. He wouldn't have done that if he'd been happy where he was at."
Margaret stood rigid. The toe of one foot tapped irritably. "How could my grandfather possibly rent an apartment? He's dead!"
"How couldn't he?" The caretaker snorted again. "It's a great apartment. Plenty of light. Nice carpets. Good amount of space. It's got a nice pool, too. Not that pools make much of a difference to a guy like him, being dead and all. Anyway, take a look; happen to have a photo of the place right here. Can't rightly remember why."
The man handed Margaret a bent-up photograph he pulled from a coverall pocket. It depicted a pleasantly-lit living room with vaulted ceilings. Tasteful black leather and chrome furniture was arranged around a delicate glass coffee table. On top of the coffee table sat her grandfather's mahogany coffin, looking just as stately as it had at her grandfather's funeral service.
Margaret glowered, unsure what to make of the photograph, noticing after a moment that she was chewing her lip as she ground her teeth. Her brain couldn't keep up, it was all just too ludicrous for her to grasp. The man sorted more funeral arrangements. "So…you're telling me that my deceased grandfather rented an apartment. Him, not you."
"Yep. That's the long and short of it." The man jammed the photograph back into his pocket.
"My dead grandfather."
"Yes'm." He took the last arrangement off the cart and disposed of it as he had the others. He paused to dust off his hands. Then he grabbed a vase from the floor, jammed a plastic flower inside from each stack, and set the newly arranged arrangement on the cart.
"How could anyone rent my grandfather an apartment!?" Margaret threw up her arms. "He's dead! The landlord couldn't do that!"
"Sure they can," the caretaker countered, paying more attention to the funeral arrangements than Margaret. "The building is zoned for mixed use."
"Mixed use?! He's dead!" She wiped her hand down her face slowly, stretching her skin as it went.
"So? He's residing there. That's a residential use. Certainly isn't commercial." The caretaker accidentally shoved two red plastic flowers in the same vase. Laughing at himself, he ripped them out again and started over.
Margaret stepped back, perhaps wondering if the caretaker was insane as opposed to just conning her. That would explain the photograph.
She crossed her arms loosely and tilted her chin upwards just a little, trying to mentally get a handle on the situation. Her brain felt like an overheated car with no oil in the engine. "I'm sorry, but that's very distracting," Margaret commented, pointing at the plastic flower piles on the worktable. "Is there any way that you could stop a moment?"
"Sorry." The older man shook a thick calloused finger at an old clock on the wall, stopped as far as Margaret could tell. "I got to get this done."
"But…what exactly are you doing? You're just taking them apart and putting them back together."
The rumpled man gestured at the flowers. "Well, people pay us to put these on graves, don't they?"
"Right…"
"They come from a factory, don't they? Someone paying someone else to bring something a machine made? I don't think much of that. My way, there's at least some thought in it."
Margaret did not respond. Instead, she watched the man fill up the cart again. The arrangements looked exactly the same as before.
"Anyway," the caretaker went on, "don't you owe your granddad?"
"Pardon me?" Margaret puffed out her chest.
"Sure," the man said, peering up at her through the finger-smudged lenses of his glasses. "He said when he bought the plot that you were going to take care of it and he was going to leave you money to keep going to school. He thought you should start working, but helped you out since you were going to mind his spot."
Margaret swallowed, ruining her attempt to look indignant. A few beads of sweat gathered at her temples.
"You figure you've done enough?" The man had his head held low, hiding the tiny smirk on his face.
Margaret's eyes widened. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her shoulders slumped. "But…"
"Hey, that's between you two. I just take care of things like I'm paid to. If he wants his plot, I do that. If he wants a two-bedroom palace, I do that instead."
Margaret absentmindedly twisted an old, ornate gold ring on her finger. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed as if the light in the dim room had gotten brighter. The meticulously squared corners of her mind twisted and stretched deliciously. "That's right…it was a deal."
"Come again?"
"I agreed to have his plot cared for."
"And?"
"Well…" Her lips slipped into a pointed grin. "I pay you a fixed monthly amount to care for that plot. Apparently this apartment is his plot now, so the rent should be part of your monthly care. I expect you to take care of it accordingly. After all, caring for his plot is caring for his plot."
"Now see here–"
"Regardless, I can't help but think," she went on, "that it reflects poorly on your services if grandfather isn't happy with his plot, not mine."
The caretaker gawked at Margaret, his mouth hanging loose. "Is that what you think now?" The older man finally growled.
"It is," she responded with a saccharine tone, "and I expect that all future bills will be for the correct amount."
"Hmph," he huffed, settling back into his chair. "Wonder what your granddad would say about that."
Margaret smirked. "You're welcome to go and ask him, if you think it will get you anywhere."
Catching sight of the plain brown wooden door hidden off in a back hallway bearing a faded Caretaker's Office sign, Margaret halted, causing her heels to clack loudly on the stone. She pursed her lips as she scrutinized the sign. As if using the white metal sign with flaking black letters as a mirror, she adjusted the smartly coiled chestnut bun of her hair. Then she shoved open the weathered door and marched inside.
"Excuse me," she called out sternly before looking what the room happened to contain, or even whether it was occupied.
A portly man in old blue coveralls sitting at a rough wooden worktable looked up at her calmly. Long stringy gray hair framed his face around a set of coke bottle eyeglasses perched on the end of his reddened bulbous nose. A metal cart, half full of plastic funeral flower arrangements, was positioned next to the worktable. Individual plastic flowers littered the table surface.
Unlike the somber and silent polished gray marble trimmed in shining brass of the hallway outside, the caretaker's room felt more like a basement or garage. The walls were cinderblock, unpainted, and the floor was bare concrete. Obviously, the room was not used for professional services.
"My bill is incorrect," Margaret said, thrusting the invoice out at the frumpy little man between a thumb and forefinger, both with nails bearing a French manicure. "You maintain my grandfather's plot, but this month's bill is way over the usual twenty-five sixty-three…nine hundred dollars more to be precise. You may not be the person in charge of this, but you're who I found."
The older man quietly looked at her still presenting the invoice even though he had made no move to take it. "Name?"
"Margaret Lane," Margaret said curtly.
"No," the caretaker shook his mess of oily old hair. "I won't remember you. I meant your granddad's."
Margaret pursed her lips again. "Winston Lane."
"Ah, yes." The heavyset man leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and cocking out his elbows. His belly pushed on the table slightly, causing loose plastic flowers to roll around on the tabletop. The flowers were separated into piles according to color: red, white, yellow, purple, and orange. "Winston Lane. His is over on hillside four, I believe."
"I'm sure." Margaret crossed her arms, still clutching the invoice. "So why do I have a bill for over nine hundred dollars?"
The caretaker hunched forward, setting his chin on a pudgy arm and wrapping a flabby hand around his mouth. "Let's see…Winston Lane…bigger than normal bill…oh, that's right!" His face brightened with recollection.
Margaret smugly waited for the expected rationalization to begin, the extras and add-ons designed to take advantage of the gullible grieving. She wouldn't be so easily manipulated.
"He got an apartment."
Margaret's expression cracked.
"That's what the extra money is," he pleasantly explained. "It's to cover the rent."
Margaret stared, blinking occasionally. A thin purple vein throbbed angrily at the side of her neck.
The man smiled. Then he pushed his round glasses further back up his nose and grabbed one of the plastic funeral arrangements from the cart. It had a block of dense green foam set in a fake bronze vase and various colors of plastic flowers stuck in the foam. The man pulled all the flowers out in a single movement and set each in the respective colored pile on the worktable. Then he placed the vase in a pile of similar vases on the floor.
"You…rented my grandfather an apartment?" Margaret finally asked. "Why?"
"Don't be ridiculous," the older man snorted, dismembering another arrangement. "He rented the apartment, not us."
Margaret sneered, having recovered her self-possession and indignation. "Sir, my grandfather is deceased."
"Yep," the caretaker agreed. He started quickly taking vases from the cart, ripping them apart, and then tossing the materials in the respective sort piles. "Guess he didn't like the plot he picked out. Maybe it wasn't roomy enough, I don't know. Some things like that you just can't be sure of till you get in a place and stay there a while. Anyway, he must not have liked something about it because he went and got himself that apartment. He wouldn't have done that if he'd been happy where he was at."
Margaret stood rigid. The toe of one foot tapped irritably. "How could my grandfather possibly rent an apartment? He's dead!"
"How couldn't he?" The caretaker snorted again. "It's a great apartment. Plenty of light. Nice carpets. Good amount of space. It's got a nice pool, too. Not that pools make much of a difference to a guy like him, being dead and all. Anyway, take a look; happen to have a photo of the place right here. Can't rightly remember why."
The man handed Margaret a bent-up photograph he pulled from a coverall pocket. It depicted a pleasantly-lit living room with vaulted ceilings. Tasteful black leather and chrome furniture was arranged around a delicate glass coffee table. On top of the coffee table sat her grandfather's mahogany coffin, looking just as stately as it had at her grandfather's funeral service.
Margaret glowered, unsure what to make of the photograph, noticing after a moment that she was chewing her lip as she ground her teeth. Her brain couldn't keep up, it was all just too ludicrous for her to grasp. The man sorted more funeral arrangements. "So…you're telling me that my deceased grandfather rented an apartment. Him, not you."
"Yep. That's the long and short of it." The man jammed the photograph back into his pocket.
"My dead grandfather."
"Yes'm." He took the last arrangement off the cart and disposed of it as he had the others. He paused to dust off his hands. Then he grabbed a vase from the floor, jammed a plastic flower inside from each stack, and set the newly arranged arrangement on the cart.
"How could anyone rent my grandfather an apartment!?" Margaret threw up her arms. "He's dead! The landlord couldn't do that!"
"Sure they can," the caretaker countered, paying more attention to the funeral arrangements than Margaret. "The building is zoned for mixed use."
"Mixed use?! He's dead!" She wiped her hand down her face slowly, stretching her skin as it went.
"So? He's residing there. That's a residential use. Certainly isn't commercial." The caretaker accidentally shoved two red plastic flowers in the same vase. Laughing at himself, he ripped them out again and started over.
Margaret stepped back, perhaps wondering if the caretaker was insane as opposed to just conning her. That would explain the photograph.
She crossed her arms loosely and tilted her chin upwards just a little, trying to mentally get a handle on the situation. Her brain felt like an overheated car with no oil in the engine. "I'm sorry, but that's very distracting," Margaret commented, pointing at the plastic flower piles on the worktable. "Is there any way that you could stop a moment?"
"Sorry." The older man shook a thick calloused finger at an old clock on the wall, stopped as far as Margaret could tell. "I got to get this done."
"But…what exactly are you doing? You're just taking them apart and putting them back together."
The rumpled man gestured at the flowers. "Well, people pay us to put these on graves, don't they?"
"Right…"
"They come from a factory, don't they? Someone paying someone else to bring something a machine made? I don't think much of that. My way, there's at least some thought in it."
Margaret did not respond. Instead, she watched the man fill up the cart again. The arrangements looked exactly the same as before.
"Anyway," the caretaker went on, "don't you owe your granddad?"
"Pardon me?" Margaret puffed out her chest.
"Sure," the man said, peering up at her through the finger-smudged lenses of his glasses. "He said when he bought the plot that you were going to take care of it and he was going to leave you money to keep going to school. He thought you should start working, but helped you out since you were going to mind his spot."
Margaret swallowed, ruining her attempt to look indignant. A few beads of sweat gathered at her temples.
"You figure you've done enough?" The man had his head held low, hiding the tiny smirk on his face.
Margaret's eyes widened. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her shoulders slumped. "But…"
"Hey, that's between you two. I just take care of things like I'm paid to. If he wants his plot, I do that. If he wants a two-bedroom palace, I do that instead."
Margaret absentmindedly twisted an old, ornate gold ring on her finger. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed as if the light in the dim room had gotten brighter. The meticulously squared corners of her mind twisted and stretched deliciously. "That's right…it was a deal."
"Come again?"
"I agreed to have his plot cared for."
"And?"
"Well…" Her lips slipped into a pointed grin. "I pay you a fixed monthly amount to care for that plot. Apparently this apartment is his plot now, so the rent should be part of your monthly care. I expect you to take care of it accordingly. After all, caring for his plot is caring for his plot."
"Now see here–"
"Regardless, I can't help but think," she went on, "that it reflects poorly on your services if grandfather isn't happy with his plot, not mine."
The caretaker gawked at Margaret, his mouth hanging loose. "Is that what you think now?" The older man finally growled.
"It is," she responded with a saccharine tone, "and I expect that all future bills will be for the correct amount."
"Hmph," he huffed, settling back into his chair. "Wonder what your granddad would say about that."
Margaret smirked. "You're welcome to go and ask him, if you think it will get you anywhere."
Watch the Trailer!
David S. Atkinson is giving away one paperback copy each – BONES BURIED IN THE DIRT & THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL PANCAKES!
Terms & Conditions:
- By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
- Two winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive either BONES BURIED IN THE DIRT or THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL PANCAKES
- This giveaway begins March 1 and ends on May 27
- Winners will be contacted via email on May 29.
- Winners have 48 hours to reply.
Good luck everyone!
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The Dawning of Scarlett by Jennifer Osborn Book Blast, Excerpt and Giveaway
The
Dawning of Scarlett
by
Jennifer Osborn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE:
YA Paranormal
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
As
a pale revenant—the vampire faction believing all life is
sacred—sixteen-year-old Scarlett Ellis has learned to hide in the
human world. She goes to night-school, works at a coffee shop, and
her uncle Chasem trains her in martial arts. No matter what, she has
to be prepared, because when she turns seventeen, she’ll be of
Dawning age—and her biological father Apollo vows to see her dead
first.
Expecting her Dawning to be impossible, she accepts the fact that she will become a rogue, forever hunted by revenant renegades and outcast by her own people. Scarlett thinks she’s prepared for this—until the curly-haired Nicholas Lightener walks into her life and asks her out on a date.
Torn between her feelings for Nick and the danger of the revenant world, Scarlett’s strange life is turned inside-out when she’s kidnapped and forced to do the one thing she swore she’d never do. Plus, she has no idea whose memories keep appearing in her dreams, or if they can even help her. Determined to free herself from a death sentence, Scarlett must fight to become who she was born to be.
Expecting her Dawning to be impossible, she accepts the fact that she will become a rogue, forever hunted by revenant renegades and outcast by her own people. Scarlett thinks she’s prepared for this—until the curly-haired Nicholas Lightener walks into her life and asks her out on a date.
Torn between her feelings for Nick and the danger of the revenant world, Scarlett’s strange life is turned inside-out when she’s kidnapped and forced to do the one thing she swore she’d never do. Plus, she has no idea whose memories keep appearing in her dreams, or if they can even help her. Determined to free herself from a death sentence, Scarlett must fight to become who she was born to be.
Excerpt
His lips
freeze in surprise for a moment, warm and tasting like salt, but they
quickly yield to mine. Before I know it, his surprise melts into
participation, and he kisses me back. It’s all pleasantly
confusing, and I feel dizzy. My blood pounds wildly in my veins and
I’m worried my eyes are going to change out of excitement. But
before I can pull back, he does first, and his breath is hot on my
cheek.
I keep
my eyes down, for fear of what they might show. I glance up at the
artery in his neck, veiled by the paper-thin skin of a human. The
blood moves in thick shots and I hear his heart pounding. I feel the
urge to let my canines drop and lean over to bite him. I've learned
to control myself so much around humans that I’m able to push the
desire down. But he gives off the most intoxicating smell. I find
myself wondering what his blood would taste like. It’s odd to even
think about, because I don’t even need blood right now, but he’s
somehow attracting me in a way I don’t understand. It’s a strange
desire to bite—not to hurt, not even to drink, but to bite. I can’t
make sense of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR
Bio and Links:
After
working in the legal and technical fields for many years, Jennifer
Osborn took the plunge into full time writing in 2015. She is the
award-winning author of The Shilund Saga and The Sentinel’s
Insurgency. When not writing, she listens to a different muse and
creates paintings and collages of all sorts.
She
lives in the Cincinnati area with her husband, three dogs and two
cats.
You can
find out more about her at
Website:
www.jenniferosborn.org
Facebook:
AuthorJenniferOsborn
Twitter:
hondagirljen
Instragram:
hondagirljen
Amazon
Author Page & Buy Links:
http://www.amazon.com/Jennifer-Osborn/e/B00EMWYFX0/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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The Winemakers by Jan Moran Book Tour and Giveaway
Book Description for The WineMakers:
1956:
When Caterina Rosetta inherits a cottage in the countryside of Italy
from a grandmother she's never known, she discovers a long-buried family
secret -- a secret so devastating, it threatens the future of
everything her mother has worked for.
When Caterina Rosetta inherits a cottage in the countryside of Italy
from a grandmother she's never known, she discovers a long-buried family
secret -- a secret so devastating, it threatens the future of
everything her mother has worked for.
Many
years before, her mother's hard-won dreams of staking her family's
claim in the vineyards of California came to fruition; but as an old
murder comes to light, and Caterina uncovers a tragic secret that may
destroy the man she loves, she realizes her happiness will depend on
revealing the truth of her mother's buried past.
years before, her mother's hard-won dreams of staking her family's
claim in the vineyards of California came to fruition; but as an old
murder comes to light, and Caterina uncovers a tragic secret that may
destroy the man she loves, she realizes her happiness will depend on
revealing the truth of her mother's buried past.
From
author Jan Moran comes The Winemakers, a sweeping, romantic novel that
will hold you in its grasp until the last delicious sip.
author Jan Moran comes The Winemakers, a sweeping, romantic novel that
will hold you in its grasp until the last delicious sip.
Buy the book: Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Kobo ~ Chapters ~ Books-a-Million ~ Book Depository ~ iBooks
Author's Bio:
Jan
Moran is a Rizzoli bestselling and award winning author. She writes
historical women's fiction for St. Martin's Press (Scent of Triumph, The
Winemakers), contemporary women's fiction (Flawless, Beauty Mark,
Runway), and nonfiction books (Vintage Perfumes, Fabulous Fragrances).
Her stories are smart and stylish, and written with emotional depth. Jan
often draws on her international travel and business experiences,
infusing her books with realistic details.
Moran is a Rizzoli bestselling and award winning author. She writes
historical women's fiction for St. Martin's Press (Scent of Triumph, The
Winemakers), contemporary women's fiction (Flawless, Beauty Mark,
Runway), and nonfiction books (Vintage Perfumes, Fabulous Fragrances).
Her stories are smart and stylish, and written with emotional depth. Jan
often draws on her international travel and business experiences,
infusing her books with realistic details.
The
Midwest Book Review and Kirkus have recommended her books, calling her
heroines strong, complex, and resourceful. She likes to talk to readers
at www.janmoran.com and on social
media. She lives in southern California and loves lattes and iced
coffee, anything chocolate, and Whole Foods Double Green smoothies to
balance it all out.
Midwest Book Review and Kirkus have recommended her books, calling her
heroines strong, complex, and resourceful. She likes to talk to readers
at www.janmoran.com and on social
media. She lives in southern California and loves lattes and iced
coffee, anything chocolate, and Whole Foods Double Green smoothies to
balance it all out.
Blog Tour Schedule:
Here is the tour schedule. It can also be found at the author's Italy Book Tours home page.
Please verify that the date and the content you are posting is correct.
Do not change the date of your post unless you email me about it first
and we come up with an alternate date. Please publish your post no later
than 10 am Eastern time. If I don’t see your post I will be sending you a reminder email.
Please verify that the date and the content you are posting is correct.
Do not change the date of your post unless you email me about it first
and we come up with an alternate date. Please publish your post no later
than 10 am Eastern time. If I don’t see your post I will be sending you a reminder email.
Feel free to include the link to this tour schedule in your post:
Tour Schedule:
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