⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Fighter Pilot's Daughter by Mary Lawlor #Memoir

 

The story of the author as a young woman coming of age in an Irish Catholic, military family…

 

Title: Fighter Pilot's Daughter

Author: Mary Lawlor

Publisher: Rowman and Littlefield

Pages: 323 

Genre: Memoir 

Format: Hardcover, Paperback, Kindle, Audiobook

Fighter Pilot’s Daughter: Growing Up in the Sixties and the Cold War tells the story of Mary Lawlor’s dramatic, roving life as a warrior’s child. A family biography and a young woman’s vision of the Cold War, Fighter Pilot’s Daughter narrates the more than many transfers the family made from Miami to California to Germany as the Cold War demanded. Each chapter describes the workings of this traveling household in a different place and time. The book’s climax takes us to Paris in May ’68, where Mary—until recently a dutiful military daughter—has joined the legendary student demonstrations against among other things, the Vietnam War. Meanwhile her father is flying missions out of Saigon for that very same war. Though they are on opposite sides of the political divide, a surprising reconciliation comes years later.

Read sample. 

Fighter Pilot’s Daughter is available at Amazon.

 

 

Book Excerpt 

The pilot’s house where I grew up was mostly a women’s world. There were five of us. We had the place to ourselves most of the time. My mother made the big decisions—where we went to school, which bank to keep our money in. She had to decide these things often because we moved every couple of years. The house is thus a figure of speech, a way of thinking about a long series of small, cement dwellings we occupied as one fictional home.

It was my father, however, who turned the wheel, his job that rotated us to so many different places. He was an aviator, first in the Marines, later in the Army. When he came home from his extended absences—missions, they were called—the rooms shrank around him. There wasn’t enough air. We didn’t breathe as freely as we did when he was gone, not because he was mean or demanding but because we worshipped him. Like satellites my sisters and I orbited him at a distance, waiting for the chance to come closer, to show him things we’d made, accept gifts, hear his stories. My mother wasn’t at the center of things anymore. She hovered, maneuvered, arranged, corrected. She was first lady, the dame in waiting. He was the center point of our circle, a flier, a winged sentry who spent most of his time far up over our heads. When he was home, the house was definitely his.

These were the early years of the Cold War. It was a time of vivid fears, pictured nowadays in photos of kids hunkered under their school desks. My sisters and I did that. The phrase “air raid drill” rang hard—the double-A sound a cold, metallic twang, ending with ill. It meant rehearsal for a time when you might get burnt by the air you breathed.

Every day we heard practice rounds of artillery fire and ordinance on the near horizon. We knew what all this training was for. It was to keep the world from ending. Our father was one of many dads who sweat at soldierly labor, part of an arsenal kept at the ready to scare off nuclear annihilation of life on earth. When we lived on post, my sisters and I saw uniformed men marching in straight lines everywhere. This was readiness, the soldiers rehearsing against Armageddon. The rectangular buildings where the commissary, the PX, the bowling alley, and beauty shop were housed had fallout shelters in the basements, marked with black and yellow wheels, the civil defense insignia. Our dad would often leave home for several days on maneuvers, readiness exercises in which he and other men played war games designed to match the visions of big generals and political men. Visions of how a Russian air and ground attack would happen. They had to be ready for it.

A clipped, nervous rhythm kept time on military bases. It was as if you needed to move efficiently to keep up with things, to be ready yourself, even if you were just a kid. We were chased by the feeling that life as we knew it could change in an hour.

This was the posture. On your mark, get set. But there was no go. It was a policy of meaningful waiting. Meaningful because it was the waiting itself that counted—where you did it, how many of the necessities you had, how long you could keep it up. Imagining long, sunless days with nothing to do but wait for an all-clear sign or for the threatening, consonant-heavy sounds of a foreign language overhead, I taught myself to pray hard.

– Excerpted from Fighter Pilot’s Daughter by Mary Lawlor, Rowman and Littlefield, 2013. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author

 

Mary Lawlor is author of Fighter Pilot’s Daughter (Rowman & Littlefield 2013, paper 2015), Public Native America (Rutgers Univ. Press 2006), and Recalling the Wild (Rutgers Univ. Press, 2000). Her short stories and essays have appeared in Big Bridge and Politics/Letters. She studied the American University in Paris and earned a Ph.D. from New York University. She divides her time between an old farmhouse in Easton, Pennsylvania, and a cabin in the mountains of southern Spain.

You can visit her website at https://www.marylawlor.net/ or connect with her on Twitter or Facebook.

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⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Cinder Bella by Kathleen Shoop #HistoricalFiction

She never had anything and he lost everything, but together they create a Christmas to remember.

 

Title: CINDER BELLA ('TIS THE SEASON BOOK 3)

Author: Kathleen Shoop

Publisher: Independent

Pages: 228

Genre: Historical Fiction

Format: Hardcover, Paperback, Audiobook, Kindle / FREE on Kindle Unlimited

She never had anything.

He lost everything.

Together they create a Christmas to remember.

December, 1893–Shadyside, Pennsylvania

Bella Darling lives in a cozy barn at Maple Grove, an estate owned by industrialist Archibald Westminster. The Westminster family is stranded overseas and have sent word to relieve all employees of their duties except Margaret, the pregnant maid, James the butler, and Bella. Content with borrowed books and a toasty home festooned with pine boughs and cinnamon sticks, she coaxes the old hens to lay eggs–extraordinary eggs. Bella yearns for just one thing—someone to share her life with. Always inventive, she has a plan for that. She just needs the right egg into the hands of the right man.

Bartholomew Baines, a Harvard-educated banker, is reeling in the aftermath of his bank’s collapse. With his friends and fiancé ostracizing him for what he thought was an act of generosity, he is penniless and alone. A kind woman welcomes him into her boarding house under conditions that he reluctantly accepts. Completely undone by his current, lowly position, and by the motley crew of fellow boarders who view him as one of them, Bartholomew wrestles with how to rebuild.

With the special eggs as the impetus, the first meeting between Bella and Bartholomew gives each the wrong idea about the other. And when the boarding house burns down a week before Christmas it’s Bella who is there to lend a hand. She, Margaret, and James invite the homeless group to stay at the estate through the holidays. But as Christmas draws closer, eviction papers arrive. Maple Grove is being foreclosed upon. Can Bella work her magic and save their Christmas? Is the growing attraction between Bella and Bartholomew enough for them to see past their differences? 

Read a sample.

Cinder Bella is available at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble & Kobo. 

Book Excerpt

Chapter 4

Bartholomew

He didn’t know how long he’d been daydreaming before excited murmurs drew him back to the line he was standing in and his assigned errand. So distracted by his childhood memories, he hadn’t even noticed the egg girl arriving and fitting her bin into the table space the bread lady had cleared. But he did watch as the bread lady hugged the egg lady and though he could see her only from behind, he could tell the egg girl was much younger. A scuffle in the line drew his attention to two women in front of him, one shouldering ahead of another for the “best selection of the special eggs.”

The dustup died down when the bread lady huddled up to referee. The egg girl was prancing away looking like she had the world on a leash, like he used to feel every day. Imagine feeling like that in such dire times. He watched those ahead of him gently place eggs in their baskets, only permitted to select twelve at most. None of them picked up eggs and weighed them in their palm. Choosing in the hopes of winning a double yolk was apparently only the desire of Mrs. Tillman and as he inched closer to his turn he was growing more self-conscious about what he had been commissioned to do.

When it was his turn he followed his orders, picking up each egg, closing his eyes and feeling the weight or whatever in his palm before either placing the egg back in the box and selecting another or putting it into the basket.

When he’d gotten to egg number six the woman behind him pinched the back of his arm. Not that it hurt through layers of clothing, but it startled him. “What?”

“What is right, all right. Think I got all day and night to wait for you to court each egg like it’s the princess you’re taking to the Christmas ball?”

He flinched and stared at the woman. Sooty cheeks and raw hands gave her station in life away. And her treatment of him caused him to lose any chance of responding. How dare she?

“Cat got your tongue, fancy pants? Let’s go or I’ll butt right in front of you.”

“Yeah, get the lead out,” another voice came from farther down the line.

“Ain’t got all day, sailor,” a third heckler joined in.

He lifted his basket. “I’ve been issued specific instructions for—”

A snowball smacked into his back, shutting him up. He spun around and scanned the crowd for who’d thrown it.

“See, even people not in line with us are tired of your mouth. Move it.” The woman behind him held his gaze.

He’d never felt so… he didn’t even know how to describe how this treatment made him feel. He tried to stop himself from rattling off the specifics of his resume and instead went with the general query of, “Don’t you know who I am?”

Another snowball thwapped his back.

“A regular jackass,” someone said from down the line.

He turned again to see who’d hit him with the snowball and the woman behind him used the opening to slide in front. He turned back and stuck his hand into the box, blocking her out. “I’ll hurry. Just let me get the other six.”

She crossed her arms, the baskets resting in the crook of each bent elbow. “Six seconds for six eggs. Get on with it, moneybags.”

“Thank you,” he said. He reached for an egg and lifted it in his palm as he had the others.

The woman started counting one, two, three and the rest of the line joined in. They were serious about him moving quicker. Mrs. Tillman would just have to understand. He didn’t doubt they’d toss him out of line if he didn’t just pluck eggs from the box and move on. And so he did. The last thing he wanted was to break eggs and have to shovel coal or something to make up for it when he got back to Mrs. Tillman’s.

“I have things to do, too, you know,” Bartholomew said. “You folks aren’t the only ones with obligations and—”

“Yeah, whada you have to do today, change into other pairs of fancy pants another three times before burrowing into a bed laid with golden goose feathers?” the woman who’d pinched him asked.

His tongue tied, but he didn’t stop himself from responding. “Uh…”

“Uh? Smoke a pipe of the finest tobacco? Yeah, what else? Sit all day with the paper while someone shines your shoes?” another voice from down the line said.

He straightened, face burning hot, blindly plucking eggs from the pile and placing them into his sack. All of those things would have been fairly close to his daily life before. Before it all crashed around him. “No. Newspapers, yes, but for the market reports and…” Suddenly his studying the news of the day seemed like a luxury instead of the work it was when pronouncing the task to the particular crew waiting in line. Suddenly, he had no words at all. “Forget it.” It was as though none of them knew he was a nice guy. It was as though they assumed he’d done something awful—that it was written across his forehead. He hesitated before moving to pay, considering whether to give them an education in all his achievements and good works. But the woman muscling past him sapped the last bit of energy he had that morning.

He paid and stalked away having been saturated with enough degradation to last the day, to last a century.

– Excerpted from Cinder Bella by Kathleen Shoop, Independent, 2021. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author

Bestselling author Kathleen Shoop, PhD writes historical fiction, women’s fiction, and romance. Shoop’s novels have garnered awards in the Independent Publisher Book Awards (IPPY), Eric Hoffer Book Awards, Next Generation Indie Book Awards, and more. You can find Kathleen in person at various venues. She’s on the board of the Kerr Memorial Museum, teaches at writing/reader conferences, co-coordinates Mindful Writers Retreats and writing conferences, and gives talks at various book clubs, libraries, and historical societies.

Sign up for her newsletter at www.kshoop.com. 

Visit her website at www.kshoop.com or connect with her on X, Facebook, Instagram, BookBub, TikTok and Goodreads.

Cinder Bella is available at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble & Kobo. 

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⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Christmas in Newfoundlandland 3 by Mike Martin #HolidayMystery

Christmas traditions, old and new from Sgt. Windflower and his family and friends.

 

Title: CHRISTMAS IN NEWFOUNDLAND 3

Author: Mike Martin

Publisher: Ottawa Press and Publishing

Pages: 160

Genre: Mystery/HolidayFiction

Format: Paperback / Kindle / FREE on Kindle Unlimited

Sgt. Windflower loves Christmas and we’re happy to share what he and his family and friends do at Christmastime in Grand Bank or Marystown or Ramea, Newfoundland. Some of the stories feature Windflower and Sheila’s adorable daughters and of course Eddie Tizzard and his family make several spotlight appearances. Other stories take you back to Christmas seasons of many years long past and there’s even a return of a fabulous Newfoundland tradition, the Mummers.

Christmas is a time to celebrate but it is also a time to reminisce and remember. We hope that it will bring back pleasant memories for you and your family to share at Christmas and throughout the year. Come celebrate Christmas in Newfoundland with Sgt. Windflower Mysteries.

Read sample here.

Christmas in Newfoundland is available at Amazon.

Book Excerpt

A Christmas Wish

Richard Tizzard gazed out at the ocean from his small home in Grand Bank, Newfoundland. The wind was high, and the waves were crashing against the shore, sending spray up into the air. Already, his house had a thick coating of the stuff on the side facing the water and he could hear it creaking and groaning against this relentless onslaught.

But inside, with the wood stove piled high, Richard and his old dog, Rusty, were perfectly comfortable and content. Both of them were coming to the end of their lives and Richard had accepted that almost completely. His children were trying to keep him hanging on as long as possible, but he was fine with what he knew was an inevitable outcome. 

He loved the quote by the great Bengali poet, Rabindranath Tagore that his friend, Doctor Vijay Sanjay had shared with him. He smiled to himself as he repeated it to Rusty. “’Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp as dawn has come’.” Rusty seemed to smile, too, at this saying. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to go, but Richard Tizzard was getting himself ready. In the meantime, he planned to enjoy his family to the upmost. His two daughters, Margaret and Brenda lived in Grand Bank with their almost grown-up families. His son, Eddie, lived in Marystown now with his wife Carrie and their two children. Little Hughie was almost two and the joy of Richard’s life while the baby, Sophie, was quickly overtaking her brother as his favourite. 

He smiled again when he thought about Eddie and his young family. It reminded him of when he had a young family of his own back in the tiny community of Ramea. Ramea is and was a small village off the southwest coast of Newfoundland that was only accessible by ferry. It did, however, have a rich fishing ground nearby and for many years provided a good livelihood for Richard and his four brothers, all of whom fished the abundant waters for many years.

But in the early 1990’s the inshore cod fishery collapsed and by 1992, when the cod moratorium was declared, all of them were out of work. The older brothers retired their boats and licenses and took the government support that was offered. Richard was too young for that, so he used the payout to move to Grand Bank. First, he worked in the fishing industry on a crew of a longliner operating out of Marystown. But when that work diminished, he went back to his true love, carpentry and woodworking.

He still did a little personal work on the side but his days of working for a living were over. He enjoyed all his family and the grandchildren tremendously, but the truth was that all he had left today were memories. Like many older people he spent a lot of time reminiscing and remembering these days. And as it was getting near Christmas, he thought a lot about Christmas from his past.

Growing up in his mom and dad’s saltbox house in Ramea. Christmas was a very quiet and peaceful affair. But he still remembered it fondly as one of the nicest times of the year. His father and older brothers were fishermen, so the winter was a slow season. They fixed their nets and did a few odd jobs around the house, but most of their time was spent cutting and splitting wood for the cast iron woodstove that heated their home and was action central for all cooking and baking.

About two weeks before Christmas his mother would start her Christmas baking. Shortbread cookies, mince pies and next year’s Christmas cakes. This year’s cakes were all ready to be unwrapped in a week or so and that would begin the ‘season of eating’ his dad called it. Richard loved the smell of the cookies and cakes as the days went by and to hear his mother singing, usually some old hymn or Christmas song like Angels We Have Heard on High or Away in a Manger. 

The men would continue their work as usual until a few days before Christmas Day. Then, his father would announce that it was time to get their tree and the whole family, except his mother, who was almost literally chained to the stove in the kitchen, would head out with their horse and sleigh to find a Christmas tree. They didn’t have to go far.

The houses in Ramea were built mostly around the harbour in sheltered nooks and crannies out of the constant wind. That meant almost all the land above them was still heavily forested with an abundance of Balsam firs that made the perfect Christmas trees. His father would lead the procession into the forest, but the tradition in the Tizzard family was that all the children would draw straws to see would pick their tree. The year Richard drew the shortest straw he was so excited he almost peed his pants.

As the others urged him on, making suggestions, Richard took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them and turned around, he saw it. A six-foot Balsam fir with many branches that spread out from top to bottom. “That’s it,” he cried, and everyone cheered. They cut it down and put it on the back of the sleigh to go home. When they arrived, their mom had made a pot of hot cocoa and while the tree was drying out in a corner they sat around and enjoyed their sweet, hot treat with some home-made cookies.

When Richard closed his eyes today, he could still smell that Christmas tree in their kitchen and taste that delicious hot cocoa. He remembered his mom sitting by herself next to the stove smiling. That was one of her last Christmas holidays with them, he recalled. She died like so many others at that time from complications in the birth of his youngest sister. Christmas was never quite the same in their household after that.

– Excerpted from Christmas in Newfoundland 3 by Mike Martin, Ottawa Press and Publishing, 2025. Reprinted with permission. 

About the Author

Mike Martin was born in St. John’s, NL on the east coast of Canada and now lives and works in Ottawa, Ontario. He is a long-time freelance writer and his articles and essays have appeared in newspapers, magazines and online across Canada as well as in the United States and New Zealand.

He is the award-winning author of the best-selling Sgt. Windflower Mystery series, set in beautiful Grand Bank. There are now 16 books in this light mystery series with the publication of Friends are Forever. 

A Tangled Web was shortlisted in 2017 for the best light mystery of the year, and Darkest Before the Dawn won the 2019 Bony Blithe Light Mystery Award. All That Glitters was shortlisted for the LOLA 2024 Must Read Book of the year award.

Some Sgt. Windflower Mysteries are now available as audiobooks and the latest Darkest Before the Dawn was released as an audiobook in 2024. All audiobooks are available from Audible in Canada and around the world.

Mike is Past Chair of the Board of Crime Writers of Canada, a national organization promoting Canadian crime and mystery writers and a member of the Newfoundland Writers’ Guild and Capital Crime Writers.

His latest book is Christmas in Newfoundland 3: Sgt. Windflower Holiday Tales.

Visit Mike’s website at www.sgtwindflowermysteries.com. Connect with him at X and Facebook.

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⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐A Quarterback for Chistmas by Linda West #HolidayRomance

When pro quarterback Nash Jordan tears his ACL, he gets drafted to his hometown team the Buffalo Bills. Humiliated, broken and in need of healing, he finds the perfect solution to his problem is the girl that broke his heart...

 

Title: A QUARTERBACK FOR CHRISTMAS

Author: Linda West

Publisher: Independent

Pages: 177

Genre: Holiday Romance

Format: Kindle / FREE on Kindle Unlimited

He’s Buffalo’s hometown hero. She’s the one who got away. When fate and a little Christmas magic bring them back together, love might just score the biggest comeback of all.

When Buffalo’s hometown quarterback Nash Jordan gets traded back just before Christmas, his career—and his heart—are both on thin ice. A lingering injury threatens his future, until help arrives in the most unexpected form: Eden Landers, the woman he never stopped loving.

Eden’s a talented chef with a hint of magic in her kitchen, and healing others is what she does best. But moving into Nash’s guest house to help him recover stirs up more than old memories. Between snowstorms, laughter, and late-night meals, love begins to simmer again.

Can they trust each other enough for a second chance? Or will fear and fame keep them apart once more?

Heartwarming, wholesome, and full of Christmas cheer, A Quarterback for Christmas is a cozy holiday romance about love, forgiveness, and finding your way home.

Read sample here.

A Quarterback for Christmas is available at Amazon.

Book Excerpt

The rain had just started when Nash Jordan stepped off the practice field, helmet in hand and sweat soaking through his gray workout shirt. His leg ached every time he shifted his weight, a dull reminder of the ACL tear that still hadn’t fully healed. He told himself it was nothing—it had to be nothing—but the tightness in his jaw said otherwise.

“Jordan,” one of the junior trainers called. “Coach wants to see you.”

Nash nodded and headed down the long hallway toward the coach’s office. The walls were lined with framed photos of better days—division titles, playoff wins, smiling faces. For a split second, he imagined one of those photos showing him, wearing the Rams jersey with a championship ring on his finger.

The coach was waiting behind his desk, arms folded and expression unreadable. “How’s the leg?”

“I’ve been better,” Nash admitted with a half shrug. “Probably just a minor flare-up. I’ll be back to full speed real soon.”

The coach took a breath. “You know we believe in you, Nash. You’re one of the best quarterbacks we’ve had come through here.”

Nash gave a small smile. “Thank you, Coach. I appreciate that.”

“That’s why this is hard.” The coach paused. “We just traded you to Buffalo.”

Nash blinked. “Buffalo?”

“They need a backup for Allen. It’s a solid deal—next year’s first and second round picks. You’ll get a fresh start.”

Nash stared at the floor as the words sank in. Buffalo. Snow, cold, his old high school stadium. And him—once a top draft pick—now a backup. “Right,” he said quietly. “Buffalo.”

The coach stood and offered his hand. “You’re going to have a great career, son. I know it.”

– Excerpted from A Quarterback for Christmas by Linda West, Linda West, 2025. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author

Linda West is a best-selling Amazon author in fiction and non-fiction. She lives in the snowy wonderland of upstate New York with her husband and magical cat. 

Her latest book is the holiday romance, A Quarterback for Christmas. You can visit her website at http://www.morningmayan.com. 

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⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐The House of Gold by Joni Parker #Fantasy

 

The gold wasn’t harvested by the Mentors as Alex believed—it was stolen by the Star Elves.

 

Title: THE HOUSE OF GOLD

Author: Joni Parker

Publisher: Independent

Pages: 359

Genre: Science Fantasy

Format: Paperback, Kindle, FREE with Kindle Unlimited

She’s done playing by the rules.

Lady Alexin Dumwalt—Alex to those who know better—just got booted from her mortal-world job. Her response? Return to Eledon, reclaim her title as Keeper of the Keys, and dive headfirst into a mission that reeks of politics and secrets.

Her task: escort Lord Quasar of the Star Elves to Nimbus. Her reality: arrested at Moonbase, locked up by a power-hungry Lord Governor, and caught in a prison break that exposes a gold-smuggling operation buried beneath the surface.

The gold? Stolen from Eledon. The ship? Not what it seems. The Fire Elves? Gone—taken by someone who wasn’t supposed to be watching.

Now Alex is under guard, headed to Nimbus, and neck-deep in a conspiracy that could shatter the fragile balance between Elf factions. She’s got questions, she’s got enemies, and she’s got zero patience for anyone standing in her way.

Magic. Betrayal. One Elf with nothing left to lose.

Read sample.

The House of Gold is available at Amazon.

Book Excerpt

I tried to get some sleep, but the impact of getting fired made me think back to my arrival in the mortal world from Eledon. I had joined a rescue effort at home when five military vessels crashed into the Elf Seas, leaving more than six hundred mortal sailors stranded. The only way for them to get home was to use a ship owned by the Wizard Ecstasy. He took me and the first hundred sailors to London. Vice Admiral Teller was one of the first mortals I met when I got here. Although he believed me when I told him I was part Elf, the other authorities thought I was delusional and dangerous. They shot me, arrested me, and put me in prison. When I used my magical abilities to heal myself, they didn’t believe that either.

After a hearing, the charges were dismissed, and I was free to leave, but I had no way to get home since the Wizard Ecstasy had abandoned me. Luckily, I used my magic to get in touch with Lord Arethus, an Elf friend, who told me the rest of the sailors would be returned through a portal at the Portsmouth Naval Base on the fall solstice. When I told Admiral Teller, he was the only one who believed me and took me to Portsmouth. When the portal appeared, the leader of the Rock Elves, Lord Fissure, came through and told me I had to remain in the mortal world, or he would kill my grandfather, Lord Odin. So, I stayed, and my exile began. And that’s why I needed a job.

– Excerpted from The House of Gold: Book 4 in the Golden Harvest Series by Joni Parker, Joni Parker, 2025. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author

Joni Parker’s story reads like a cross-continental odyssey with grit at every turn. Born in the heart of Chicago, she was just eight when her family uprooted to Japan so her father could chase a dream most wouldn’t dare—becoming a professional golfer. He made it. And when the dust settled, they landed in Phoenix, Arizona, where Joni carved her own path.

After high school, she didn’t just serve—she committed. Twenty-two years in the U.S. Navy, followed by seven more in federal civil service, Joni built a career on discipline, resilience, and a no-nonsense drive to get things done.

Now retired in Tucson, Arizona, she’s traded uniforms for imagination, channeling her fire into writing, devouring books, and catching the sunrise like it’s a daily ritual of renewal. Her stories reflect the same edge she’s lived with—bold, unflinching, and full of heart.

Her most recent book is the science fantasy, The House of Gold (Book 4 in the Golden Harvest Series).

Visit her website at http://www.joni-parker.com or connect with her on Facebook, Goodreads and  Bluesky.

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