Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Edge of Death by Joni Parker @parkerjoni #urbanfantasy


* Edge Of Death *

* Joni Parker *

* Urban Fantasy *



In this second installment of The Admiralty Archives, the warrior Lady Alexin, the Keeper of the Keys for the Elf realm of Eledon, finds herself exiled to the harsh world of near-future London. Rendered little more than a political pawn by the Elfin Council of Elders to avoid a war with the Rock Elves, she has little choice but to struggle to find her way in this strange new land. Taken under the protection of kindly mentors, Vice Admiral Malcolm Teller of the British Royal Navy and his wife, Alex brings all her skills to the fore as she uncovers a series of deadly plots.

Murder is on everyone’s mind as an underground White Supremacist organization takes aim at Admiral Teller while two wizards, resurrected from death, must kill Alex in order to survive. To make matters worse, the Rock Elves dispatch a hundred assassins from Eledon with their sole mission to bring Lady Alexin to the very… Edge of Death.

ORDER YOUR COPY

Amazon → https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07X43MSQG

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TEASER




______________________

EXCERPT

Chapter 1: Edge of Death

Alex had never felt so alone in her entire life. She stared blankly out the window of the limousine she shared with Admiral Teller and his staff. Her eyes focused on her reflection as a tear escaped down her cheek. She swiped it away. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel grateful for their help and support, but her heart ached—she wanted to go home…to Eledon…to her Elf grandparents…to her job as the Keeper of the Keys…not to London.
Alex’s mortal father had died when she was four and she’d been raised by mortals until she turned fifteen. She thought she’d have a better understanding of life here on Earth, but she didn’t. She even missed the snooty Council of Elders and the grumpy Chamber Elf. Helping those mortals had been the worst decision she’d ever made. Over seven hundred sailors on five ships had been stranded in Eledon and she’d returned them safely. She brushed away another tear and looked around. Good, no one’s looking at me. She turned back to the window.

An unusual sound caught her attention and she gazed out the sunroof of the black limousine. It was a helicopter. Or a chopper. A helo—whatever they called it. Alex leaned her head back and sighed. What was it doing here? It wasn’t part of the motorcade. Over the past few weeks, she’d seen a lot of them flying in and out of Portsmouth’s Royal Naval Base in southern England. The Royal Marines had told her about them. This one hovered way too close. The pilots smiled and waved at her, so she waved back. Friendly, she thought, at first. But why were they wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day? Her instincts told her something wasn’t right. Who were these men? Assassins? Why were they waving at me? The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she thought of the worst-case scenario. The helo was going to attack them.
She nudged Leftenant Nelson of the British Royal Navy—the red-haired, fair-skinned man raised his chin, but his eyes remained fixed on the screen of his mobile. He played a video game to pass the time.
            “Wait.” The young officer pushed the buttons with his thumbs and stared intensely at the small screen. The car crashed and the game ended. “Damn it!” He shook his fist and gritted his teeth. “I can’t get past this level. What in the bloody hell do you want?” He pulled his ear buds out and turned sharply; his eyes narrowed—his anger still prevailing.
            “Sorry, but why is that helicopter flying so low?” Alex pointed up. She had learned one thing about the mortal world—it could be dangerous here.
            “It’s just a traffic helicopter, looking for accidents on the highway.”
            “So why are those men wearing sunglasses? It’s cloudy out.”
            “They’re pilots—they think it makes them look cool.” He waved his hand dismissively and went back to his game.
            “Good.” Alex felt relieved. Her instincts were wrong. No need to worry. This was normal. Since that night she was supposed to return home to Eledon, but couldn’t, she wasn’t quite sure what was normal and what wasn’t here in the mortal world. She relived the scene, repeating in her head on an endless loop and clenched her jaw. Lord Fissure of the Rock Elves had threatened to kill her grandfather if she tried to return home—and the sneer on his face told her that he’d won.
Sitting across from her was Vice Admiral Sir Malcolm Teller. He was a kind man, but he was a mortal…and a target. She’d already foiled three assassination attempts on him. He was targeted by a white supremacist group called the 23rd Infantry, just because he was a black man. It didn’t make sense to her. Over the past few weeks, he’d also become her mentor and benefactor and promised to help her find a way home. But how? He didn’t know anything about the Elf world. Were there more entry points somewhere? Even she didn’t know—she was stranded. No, exiled.
Next to him on a laptop computer was Captain Jonas, a brilliant naval officer and the Admiral’s chief of staff, who always looked at her with suspicion. Was there any way to convince him I wasn’t a scout for an alien invasion? She doubted it. He was a stubborn man.
Over the past few weeks, the Admiral had taken charge of the return of the sailors, the ships, and the civilians who’d been stranded in Eledon, while she’d made friends with Captain Shauna O’Leary, Royal Marines. Alex worked out with the Marines on a daily basis and learned a lot about the mortal world from them. This morning, however, she was notified the Admiral had completed his task and would be leaving for London in an hour. She would have liked more time—she barely had a chance to say farewell to Shauna. But she packed quickly and got to the limousine before anyone else.
Alex had no clue what to do next, but she felt an urgent need to get back to Eledon to protect her grandfather from those Rock Elves, especially Lord Fissure. Until she figured out how, the Admiral had offered to let her stay with him and his wife. Without any other option, she agreed.
Her best hope of getting home was to find Ecstasy, the wizard. He’d brought her to the mortal world in the first place, but even Detective Inspector Tyler of Scotland Yard couldn’t find him. So, how could she?

*          *          *

Leftenant Nelson tapped her arm. “Hey, Alex. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You didn’t know about the traffic helo. Sorry.”
            “It’s all right. Sorry, I bothered you.” Alex wasn’t really sorry, but thought it was the polite thing to say. He’d always been pleasant to her. The chopper rose higher over the vehicle, pacing the limo’s speed on the highway. Its body was made of glass and metal with pods on either side. Alex stared at it curiously and went back to her thoughts.
            Without warning, the limo veered off the main highway and exited onto a two-lane country road. Alex grabbed hold of a handle to her left and sat up straight, alert for trouble. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened as her head swiveled around, looking for the source of the problem.
            “What’s going on, Jonas?” Admiral Teller dropped the newspaper onto his lap and looked over to the Captain.
            “I’ll find out, Admiral.” He pressed a button near his head. “Petty Officer Thomas, where are we going?”
“Following the security car in front, Captain. It’ll take us around an accident ahead.”
Captain Jonas glanced at the traffic on the highway. It wasn’t slowing down and his phone didn’t have any reported accidents. “Thomas, there aren’t any accidents reported. Call the security car and get them back on the highway. We have an appointment at the Ministry this morning.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Yet, the limo continued along the empty country road.
Thomas reported back. “Captain, no reply from the security car.”
The Captain grew alarmed; this wasn’t supposed to happen. He checked his phone again, still no accidents. He craned his neck to look at the traffic, flowing smoothly on the highway.
The sound of the chopper drew closer. Alex looked out the sunroof—the pilots grinned. This time, not in a friendly way. Alarm bells went off in her head.
“I thought the chopper was supposed to watch traffic on the highway.” Alex looked to Nelson, who was also peering out the sunroof; his jaw tight and his eyes focused on the chopper.
“I don’t like this.” Captain Jonas pressed the button. “Thomas, get us out of here!” His eyes narrowed.
“I can’t, sir. We’re boxed in.”
“Leftenant, send out a distress message immediately!”
Nelson’s thumbs flew over the screen of his mobile phone, sending out a text message.
Alex felt helpless and she could tell the men didn’t know what to do either. She turned in her seat to see the driver’s face in the rearview mirror. His eyes were so wide she could see white around his pupils as he clutched the steering wheel.
Captain Jonas slammed his laptop shut and pushed the intercom. “Thomas, take evasive action. Turn left up ahead.” He turned to his right. “Fasten your seat belt, Admiral. Leftenant, call for help again.”
The Admiral put on his seatbelt and Alex tightened hers. The Leftenant sent out another message over his phone. Thomas slammed on the brakes and turned the limo to the left. The long vehicle barely made the sharp turn and skidded sideways before it straightened. Then he stepped on the gas. All at once, he jammed on the brakes and nearly ran into the chopper as it hovered low over the road.
Alex broke into a sweat. How are we going to get out of this? She looked to the Admiral, who looked at the Captain. No one had any answers.
“Turn right!” The Captain pointed to a smaller road.
Thomas quickly turned the limo down a road which became a dirt path leading into a pasture where black and white cows munched on grass. The limo broke through a barbed wire fence and drove into the field. Alex gripped the handle as she bounced in the seat. Oh, my stars!
“Damn it! Turn around! Get us out of here!” The Captain’s eyes grew large as the chopper followed behind. “Did you send the message, Nelson?” He pulled the Admiral away from the window as Nelson frantically texted another distress message.
“Jonas, this car is armored. We’re safer in here than out there.” The Admiral pointed out the window.
“Thomas, get us out of here!” Jonas waved his hand forward.
“I can’t, sir! I’ve lost control!” The steering wheel spun wildly under his hands as the limo fishtailed across the grass.
Alex rocked to the right as the chopper’s nose tilted down. “It’s aiming at us!” She pointed out the back window. The Marines had told her about helos, firing rockets and shooting guns, but that was in a war zone, not in the English countryside.
Two white streams of churning smoke fired from the pods on the chopper, exploding just behind the vehicle, kicking up mounds of dirt, and lifting the rear end. Gunfire strafed the back window, shattering the glass but remaining intact.
Alex covered her face as the limo sped through the field, barely missing a cow. Seconds later, the limo ran into a stone wall and came to an abrupt stop. The airbags deployed and everyone sat stunned for a few seconds.
“The chopper’s coming around for another crack at us, Captain.” Leftenant Nelson grabbed the door handle. “Let’s get out of here!” He scrambled out the door, followed by the rest, jumping behind a stone wall in front of a stand of trees.
Just as they ducked behind the wall, the chopper sent two more rockets at the car, which exploded at the rear. Then it opened fire with machine guns. In spite of the armor plating and bulletproof glass, the limo was severely damaged—it hissed and steamed.
Alex hunkered down next to Nelson as bullets pounded against the wall. She’d never felt anything so powerful and wondered if the wall was strong enough to protect them. It brought back memories of when she’d been shot, but somehow, she didn’t remember it this way. Her recent training with the Marines had involved simulated bullets; this wasn’t the same. Her panic rose. She couldn’t move. Her breathing grew shallow; sweat dripped off her face. She felt if she was on the edge of death, about to go over. The men were just as scared as she was.
Her courage was buoyed by a short lull in the action; she peeked around the wall and saw the chopper back up to maneuver for another round. I have to do something.
“Is there a weak point on the chopper?” Alex asked.
“The rotor on top.” The Captain pointed up.
As the chopper flew forward, Alex aimed the palms of her hands at the rotor. “Break!” she shouted. An intense beam of blue light shot from her hands, knocking the rotor off. The blades struck the ground, sending dirt and shrapnel in all directions while the cabin tumbled across the field and exploded.
“What in the bloody hell was that?” Captain Jonas stared at her—his eyes wide.
“My blue light.” She grinned at him.
“My God!” The Captain glared at her. “Don’t do that again!”
Why was he so surprised? The Captain had seen her use it before when she’d healed some people. She pressed her lips together in frustration.
“Wicked.” Nelson glanced at her and nodded, raising an eyebrow.
Wow, that’s weird. He can raise one eyebrow at a time. At least, Alex thought it was unusual. She’d never seen…
“Stay down!” Captain Jonas pushed the Admiral’s head behind the wall as he detected movement to the left. The two fake security vehicles had arrived on scene. Out of one car, two men in black ran at them on the left—they were scouts, leading the attack.
“Men on the left.” She nodded to Leftenant Nelson.
“More on the right.” The Leftenant grimaced. “We’re screwed.”
“I’ll use my blue light again.” Alex was about to raise her hands.
“No!” The Captain glared at her. “Don’t use that thing. It’s unnatural.”
“So are guns. We can’t just sit here and do nothing.” Then, she had another idea.



 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Fantasy novels are Joni Parker’s writing passion. Thus far, she’s written two complete series:“The Seaward Isle Saga,” a trilogy, and “The Chronicles of Eledon,” the award-winning four-book series. Her latest series, “The Admiralty Archives,” began with the publication of her book, “Curse of the Sea” and continues with the second book in that series, “Edge of Death.” Her work extends beyond novels into short stories and blog articles. Joni’s retired from military and federal government service and devotes her time to writing. She currently resides in Tucson, Arizona.

website & Social links

Website → http://www.joni-parker.com
Twitter → https://twitter.com/ParkerJoni
Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJoniParker


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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: 'Twas the Night by Marin @fontrealbooks #children

'TWAS THE NIGHT

Marin

* Children's Picture Book *



Title: ‘TWAS THE NIGHT
Author: Marin
Publisher: Fontreal
Pages: 32
Genre: Children’s Picture Book

BOOK BLURB:

‘TWAS THE NIGHT is a wordless book that “tells” a heartwarming and inspirational Christmas story. The illustrations gift each reader, young and young at heart, the opportunity to reimagine the Season’s wonder, and the freedom “to script” (if they choose to) their own lines to go with the images. Keep dreaming big!
______________________

TEASER





______________________

EXCERPT

'TWAS THE NIGHT is a wordless book that "tells" a heartwarming
and inspirational Christmas story. The illustrations gift each reader, young and young at heart, the opportunity to reimagine the Season's wonder, and the freedom "to script" (if they choose to) their own lines to go with the images. Keep dreaming big!

______________________

TEASER


______________________

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My name is Marin and I was a child a very long time ago. My father passed away when I was one year old. My mother remarried and I was raised by my loving (but strict!) grandparents. After losing their son, they were terrified by the thought of losing their grandson. For this reason, they didn’t let me play on the street, swim in the nearby pond or explore the forest with the rest of the kids. This was also the reason I learned to read and write long before I went to school. My grandparents surrounded me with books. Books became my imaginary parents and my fictional friends. Apart from my genetic building blocks, books also came to be the main component in my development as a creative, compassionate and competitive individual.

I studied nuclear physics, art, and literature, but I enjoyed art the most. As a young artist, I was eager to succeed, winning prizes from various countries. I later became a partner in an advertising agency and switched my attention to serving clients. My last award was somewhere in the early nineties – The Best in the West by Corel Draw Corporation.

Oh, a few more boring things about me: I do not drive, I do not drink carbonated beverages, I have never consumed food from McDonald’s, Burger King, KFC or any other fast food restaurant, I do not have a mobile phone, I have never used legal or illegal drugs (except Gravol when I fly), and I have never visited my GP (much to the disapproval of my wife).

I read. I read every day. I am what I am today because of books. This publishing house is my little “thank you” to all of them.

website & Social links

Website  → http://www.fontreal.com

Twitter  → http://www.twitter.com/fontralbooks

Facebook  → http://www.facebook.com/fontreal/



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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Phantom Audition by Simon Dillon @uncleflynn #psychological #thriller

PHANTOM AUDITION

SIMON DILLON

* Psychological Thriller *



Title: Phantom Audition
Author: Simon Dillon
Publisher: Dragon Soul Press
Pages: 300
Genre: Psychological Thriller

Small-time actress Mia Yardley, recently widowed wife of renowned actor Steven Yardley, discovers her late husband’s secret acting diary. The diary details appointments made with a psychic medium, who advised Steven on which roles to take. It also raises questions about his mysterious and inexplicable suicide. Seeking answers, Mia speaks to the medium, but in doing so is drawn into an ever- deepening mystery about what happened to her husband during the final days of his life. Eventually, she is forced to ask the terrible question: was Steven Yardley murdered by a vengeful evil from beyond the grave?
______________________

TEASER




______________________

EXCERPT

Mia sighed. None of this was really news to her, and after reading a few similarly unremarkable entries, she was tempted to ignore the rest of the journal. All this was doing was make her miss Steven more than ever. However, she caught sight of Etta’s name at the beginning of the next entry and her interest was piqued once more.
Etta made a quite singular suggestion today regarding Bingley that she is
convinced will land me that long overdue Oscar. I am a little apprehensive about what she is asking, but also quite exhilarated at the prospect. Etta has never been wrong before, and even though certain aspects of what she is asking worries me, I think I will take the leap. Perhaps it will all prove
ridiculous, and much ado about nothing.

The next entry was brief, and equally cryptic.

It’s happening with Etta today. Very nervous.



 

______________________


ABOUT THE AUTHOR




The spirit of Simon Dillon took human form in 1975, in accordance with The Prophecy. He kept a low profile during his formative years, living the first twenty or so of them in Oxford, before attending University in Southampton, and shortly afterwards hiding undercover in a television job. In the intervening years, he honed his writing skills and has now been unleashed on the world, deploying various short stories and novels to deliberately and ruthlessly entertain his readers. He presently lives in the South-West of England with his wife and two children, busily brainwashing the latter with the books he loved growing up.

website & Social links


Website:
Blog:
Twitter: 
Facebook:


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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial by Michelle Jester @michelle_jester #children


GRASSHOPPER EYE AND THE LOST VIAL

MICHELLE JESTER

* CHILDREN *



Title: Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial
Author: Michelle Jester
Publisher: Yellow Duckie Press
Pages: 36
Genre: Children (Juvenile>general, Juvenile>social issues> feelings and emotions)

When the villagers first noticed that each of them had one item missing from their homes, they set out on a journey that ends with them finding something far more valuable than things. Go with Grasshopper Eye on a journey through friendships, feeling, and fitting in.

 

ORDER YOUR COPY

Amazon → https://amzn.to/3657KIr

______________________

TEASER



______________________

EXCERPT

Grasshopper Eye lived in a village deep in the forest. He made small vials that villagers could put their sad tears in.

He felt that letting sad tears fall down your face or wiping them away was a huge waste of something that took so much pain to make.


 

______________________

TEASER




ABOUT THE AUTHOR





Michelle Jester is the author of several novels that fall into the Coming of Age, New Adult contemporary romance, Social Issues, Women’s Lit categories. Michelle’s titles, published through RopeSwing Press, include The Funeral Flower, Love, Cutter, and Two Thousand Lines (due out November 21, 2019.) In addition, Michelle is releasing a children’s book, Grasshopper Eye and the Lost Vial, through Yellow Duckie Press on the same day as Two Thousand Lines. It is featured in the contemporary novel, however is a stand-alone publications for a younger audience.

Michelle also writes several professional and personal blogs, contributes articles for independent publications, and is the Editor-in-chief for Modern Grace magazine. In addition, she is a Media and Publishing consultant, photographer, and graphic designer.

In 2007, she received the Louisiana Distinguished Civilian Service Medal for her work with military and their families. She has served as Public Relations manager and volunteer to non-profit organizations geared toward helping Veterans of war and their families. Michelle is a self proclaimed hopeless romantic who lives in Louisiana with her husband, high school sweetheart and a retired Army Master Sergeant. Together they have

website & Social links

Websitehttp://www.michellejester.net

Twitter → http://www.twitter.com/michelle_jester

Facebookhttp://www.facebook.com/authormichellejester

Goodreads → https://www.goodreads.com/michelle_jester



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Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: A Lady's Past by A.S. Fenichel @asfenichel #historical #romanc


A LADY'S PAST
A.S. Fenichel
* Historical Romance *


Title: A LADY’S PAST
Author: A.S. Fenichel
Publisher: Kensington Books/Lyrical Press
Pages: 223
Genre: Historical Romance




The greatest risk—for the sweetest reward…

His fiancée’s betrayal nearly cost Jacques Laurent everything. Despite his resolve not to trust anyone again, he can’t abandon the young woman he finds alone on the road to London. In the brief hours they spend together, the enigmatic Diana touches his heart in a way he can’t explain. Even after bringing her to the Everton Domestic Society for safekeeping, he can’t get her out of his thoughts. And when he next encounters her, working as assistant to a renowned scientist, he becomes even more intrigued…

The Society’s kindness is especially welcome after everything Diana endured in a French prison, but she fears for the safety of those who get close to her. French spies are on her trail, convinced that her scientific knowledge can help them win the war. As peril draws them irrevocably together, Diana and Jacques succumb to mutual desire. But love may be the most dangerous pursuit of all, when a lady guards her heart even more carefully than she guards her life . . .



______________________




______________________


Book Excerpt:

Chapter 1


Wet roads, a carriage that needed new springs, a relentless drizzle, and still Jacques Laurent had enjoyed one of the best days he’d had in a long time. Seeing his parents safe in England, after worrying about their fate in France all these years, was a relief beyond measure. If not for an important meeting in London the following morning, he would have stayed a few more days in the country.
Now that he had their well-being to worry about too, he could ill afford to miss an opportunity to increase his accounts.
His small covered carriage did little to protect him from the drizzle, and even less as it turned to a light snow. One never could predict November. He pulled the collar of his coat tighter.
Something large and gray darted into the trees on the side of the road. Pulling back on the reins, Jacques squinted into the dense woods. “I saw you, so if you have plans to attack me, you may as well show yourself.
I am well armed and not the least bit worried about dispatching a villain tonight, though it would ruin a perfectly good day.”
The leaves rustled, and someone cleared her throat.
Jacques’s curiosity was piqued. He’d never met a female highwayman. Would they be called a highwaywoman? He would give it thought, but later. Her gun barrel preceded her out of the shadows into the dusk of evening.
Hair the color of the richest coffee tumbled around her shoulders as her cape caught on a low branch. “I am also not afraid to shoot. Are you a spy?” Her question was not unusual. His French accent had provoked the notion more than once. It was the times, and nothing could be done about it until the unrest passed. “Certainly not. Spies do not dress well, and they keep terrible hours. The question is, why would a lady such as  yourself be traveling alone at night and on foot? More importantly and far more interestingly, why do you concern yourself with spies rather than highwaymen and murderers?”
She raised the barrel of her shotgun and looked at him through the threads. “I’m not in a position to answer any of those questions. You should be on your way.” She motioned down the road with the weapon while keeping her cheek against the butt and her finger on the trigger.
Chest tight, he sighed. “I’m afraid I cannot leave you here, madam.” “Why on earth not?” Her nose scrunched up in the most adorable way.
Wishing he could discern the color of her eyes, he squinted to try to make them out. Blue, perhaps, but the light was dim with the late hour and persistent snow. “I am a gentleman.”
“And that means you can’t leave a total stranger to her own devices?” A hint of amusement filtered into her voice.
There was something compelling about the low, raspy tone. “Were you running into or out of town?”
She huffed. “I’m not running.”
“I suspect this is a falsehood, but it is none of my business.”
“That much is true.” She pressed the gun’s butt tighter to the crease of her shoulder.
Laughing, he said, “If you are willing to stop pointing the dangerous end of that weapon at me, I would be happy to convey you into London and drop you wherever you wish.”
She lowered the gun, her bravado faltering. Her eyes cast down, she pursed her lips. “I will bash you on the head with this if you so much as look like you will attack me.”
“Noted.” He took both reins in one hand and offered her the other to climb up. Once she was seated, he clucked to Midas and the horse trotted on. “You may leave me at Parliament or Piccadilly, whichever is more convenient to you.” Weapon across her lap and no luggage, now her bravado failed, and she might have been a lost puppy rather than the bold woman
of a moment before.
It tugged at something inside Jacques that a woman with an education, from the sound of her voice, had come to be alone on the road several hours outside of London with nothing but a shotgun. He had a suspicion. “If you have no place to stay tonight, I can offer you my townhouse or perhaps take you to the home of one of my married friends. The Duke and Duchess of Middleton would be happy to take care of you this evening.”
Shoulders back, she stared straight ahead. “That is very kind, but unnecessary. I will be fine.”

The snow came down harder. “I am sure that is true. What is your name?” The silence stretched out until he was sure she would refuse to answer.
Then, her voice barely a whisper on the wind, she said, “Diana.”
Why her name should make him grin, he  had  no  idea.  “Yet there is no moon.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He kept his attention on the road but felt her looking at him. “Your name. Diana, goddess of the hunt and the moon.”
“Yes, well, my father was fond of mythology.”
A tiny noose tightened around his heart. It was absurd. “And your father is no longer with you?”
It was a straight bit of road, and he turned his head in time to see her frown and the tightening of her full lips. She reached up and pulled her hair back, twisting it into a knot at her nape. “My father died a year ago.” “I’m very sorry. I am Jacques Laurent. Have you any family to whom
I might deliver you this evening?” Already sensing the answer, he wanted her to say something positive and comforting. The idea of her being alone in the world gnawed at him.
“No. I have no family. You may drop me at one of my previously stated locations.” Her back was straight as an oak, and she stared ahead into the waning gray day. Snow speckled her dark hair. Pulling her hood up, she hid her beauty.
It wouldn’t do to pull the hood back and demand she let him see her. He sighed. The places she’d requested to be left were both heavily frequented. She chose spots where she would not be alone. Obviously, she needed the crowd for protection. But who was she afraid of?
None of his business was the mantra he repeated in his head. He would drop her in the city, go to bed, attend his meeting in the morning and then head back to the country with his friends. The Duke and Duchess of Middleton were anxious to visit with his parents. Preston had been his friend since birth, as their fathers had attended school together. They would collect the dowager duchess and head back to Crestwood, the small estate he’d purchased for his parents. He’d left them with a competent staff, but he hated the notion of them being alone after their long journey.
His friends had recently married after meeting when Millie was hired through the Everton Domestic Society to be Preston’s matchmaker. It was no time at all before the matchmaker became matched. Jacques liked Millie; she was smart and funny and the perfect wife for the serious Duke of Middleton.

It was an early first snow. The wind picked up and the chill seeped through his coat. He imagined Diana was freezing in that light cape.
She pulled the edges closer around her neck, and her teeth chattered together in cadence with the rumble of the wheels. The snow was making it harder and harder to see, and the horse misstepped, pulling the carriage sideways.
Diana gave a short yelp and grabbed the seat.
Jacques couldn’t blame her. They had come inches from running off the road. “I think there is a small inn or a farmhouse up ahead. I assume you will not be keen on the idea, but we have to stop for the night and hope the weather clears by morning.”
Her shoulders lifted then sank with a long sigh, and she gave him a nod. The inn was indeed small, and a bit worse for wear. Jacques immediately doubted the wisdom of stopping at such a place with a lady, but they had
little choice. Neither he nor Midas could continue.
As soon as they stopped, a round-bellied man in a robe and nightcap rushed into the yard. “Lord, what a night. I expect you two got caught up. Come in. Leave the horse. I’ll have young Robbie take the beast for feed and shelter. He’ll give him a good rubdown as well. Come in, come in out of the cold. Mrs. Tinker has water boiling for tea.”
Jacques secured the reins and turned to Diana. “It seems we are welcome for a bit of an adventure.”
The smile she graced him with nearly toppled him from the seat. “It would seem so.”
He was going to have to get himself under control. This woman was nothing to him, and he would do well to remember that. Offering his hand, he helped her down from the carriage. He leaned close to her ear. “I shall have to give him a false name and tell him we’re married. I assume you have a reputation to protect regardless of your current situation, and you would not wish to be forced to marry me.”
“Heavens, no.” Wide-eyed, she truly looked horrified.
“You wound me with the quickness of your reply.” He joked, but her decisive rejection gnawed at him.




 

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A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.

A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.

Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in Missouri with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden.

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Free eBook! Every Reasonable Doubt by Pamela Samuels Young @authorpsy #freeebook




EVERY REASONABLE DOUBT

PAMELA SAMUELS YOUNG

* MYSTERY/LEGAL THRILLER *



Title: Every Reasonable Doubt
Author: Pamela Samuels Young
Publisher: Goldman House Publishing
File Size: 722 KB
Genre: Mystery/Legal Thriller

When attorneys Vernetta Henderson and Neddy McClain are tapped to take on the biggest case of their careers, they are less than thrilled about working together. Their strained relationship, however, is the least of their problems. Their socialite client—charged with the brutal murder of her husband—is demanding an immediate dismissal of the case. But a ruthless prosecutor is determined to make sure that doesn’t happen. Forced to fight a common enemy, the two women close ranks and, in the process, develop a bond that sees them through the uncertainties of trial, the pain of betrayal and pressures neither could have imagined.

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Prologue

If Max Montgomery ever had to commit to monogamy to save his wife’s life, she would just have to come back and haunt him from the afterlife.
Max rested his forearm on the registration desk as his eyes anxiously crisscrossed the lobby of the Beverly Hills Ritz-Carlton. He watched as people milled about, dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns. He made eye contact with a short, brown-skinned cutie who sashayed by in a dress so tight he could see the faint outline of her thong. Max smiled. She smiled back. Too bad he was already about to get laid. Otherwise, he definitely would’ve taken the time to follow up on that.
“Here’s your key, Mr. Montgomery,” said a cherub-faced girl with a shrill voice. “You’ll be in room 502. One of our most elegant suites.”
When he reached for the key, his fingertips accidentally brushed her hand and she nervously looked away. She wants me, Max thought. But she was way too young for his taste.
He thanked her and headed for the bank of elevators in the rear of the lobby. Max tapped the elevator button and the car to his left instantly glided open. Some of the tension eased from his body once he was safely inside. He had waited nearly a week for this night and his wait was almost over.
The anonymous invitation to a “private evening of intimacy” had intrigued him and he had immediately decided to accept. No questions asked. A man like Max didn’t make hasty decisions very often. On the rare occasion that he did, it was only because he was banking on a huge payoff.
Max stepped off the elevator, studied the sign directly in front of him, then turned left down a long hallway. He walked with a distinctive, self-assured stride, like a male model taking a slow stroll down the catwalk. He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and fished the plastic card key from his breast pocket.
A huge smile of anticipation spread across his face as he entered the lavish suite. The place was a classy ensemble of muted colors, luxurious fabrics, and calming scents. From the flowing silk curtains to the massive mahogany sleigh bed to the sleek suede comforter, everything in the room spelled class with a capital C. And that pleased him.
Max made his way over to a nightstand near the window, his feet sinking into the plush, caramel-colored carpet with every step. He examined a champagne bottle sitting near an antique lamp. Dom Pérignon, vintage 1995. Definitely his style. He only hoped his host was familiar with some of his more erotic personal preferences.
The sight of a red teddy hanging from the corner of the headboard triggered a twinge of arousal that warmed him inside. He rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers, smiled again, then tossed it onto the bed. On the floor near the nightstand was a large wicker basket with three packages of rose petals, twelve scented candles, two champagne glasses, and a book of matches. He set the basket on the bed and read the fancy gold card inside. It provided additional instructions for the evening.
Max glanced at his watch. He didn’t have much time. He scooped up the basket with one hand, began undoing his tie with the other and proceeded into the bathroom. It was just as dazzling as the rest of the suite. The marble floor, the shiny granite countertop, the extravagant gold fixtures were all symbols of an affluent lifestyle Max knew well.
As the card commanded, Max filled the oversized Jacuzzi tub with water, sprinkled it with the rose petals and positioned the candles about the room. He lit each one, then turned off the lights to admire his handiwork. Yes, yes, yes. He was about to have himself one big ball.
Max ripped up both the invitation and the card and flushed them down the toilet. A married man could never be too careful. Just as he was about to head back into the bedroom, the enormous mirror on the wall directly across from the tub stopped him in his tracks. Max grinned. He would get to watch.
Marching into the bedroom, he stripped off his Hugo Boss suit and draped it over the back of an armchair near the bed, making sure his pants were carefully folded along the crease line. After removing the rest of his clothes, he grabbed the champagne bottle and strutted naked into the bathroom, where he eased into the steaming hot water and waited.
All day long he had tried to figure out who his freaky little hostess might be. He had instantly ruled out Janice. A single parent with three kids didn’t have the time, not to mention the energy, to plan something this elaborate. She could barely escape from her solo law practice for their once-a-week lunchtime romps. That left Paula, a stewardess who had served him on a flight to New York three months earlier, and Natasha, the big-breasted Swede who was temping as a receptionist at his firm’s Newport Beach office. She had straight out boned him with her eyes when he walked up to the reception desk to find out her name. Yeah, both Paula and Natasha were kinky enough to plan something like this.
Max poured himself a glass of champagne and took a slow, satisfying sip. The air jets pelting his back with spurts of water felt great. He closed his eyes and slowly twisted his head to the left as far as it would go, then repeated the move on the opposite side. The muscles along the base of his neck felt like dense, knotted fists. Maybe she would give him a massage afterward.
At the sound of the hotel room door opening, Max bolted forward, causing rose petals to splash onto the floor. He could feel his pulse racing as he waited for his mystery date to appear, and when she did not, he settled back into the tub and tried to calm himself down. She was probably just slipping into that sexy little teddy. He was so hard now he had to fight the urge to jack himself off.
Max reached for the champagne bottle to refill his glass just as a sharp, searing pain attacked his left temple. He hoped it wasn’t another migraine. There was a time when he could almost will them away if he concentrated hard enough. But that wasn’t working anymore. He sat the bottle back down. He would wait and share the rest with her.
Max leaned back, sucked in a long, deep breath, and closed his eyes for several seconds. When he reopened them, he could not focus. A thick curtain of haze had suddenly filled the room. He tried to sit up, but his head felt heavier than a bowling ball and fell backward, slamming hard against the tiled wall. He was now blind, dizzy, and in excruciating pain.
By the time the bathroom door opened, Max could feel the presence of someone else in the room. He could even hear a voice. A voice he was too dazed to place, speaking words he could not quite make out. Max had never had a migraine like this one before. He tried to speak, but his lips spewed nothing but gibberish. Had the champagne been spiked?
Without warning, a powerful jolt of pain pierced the right side of Max’s chest at the same time that his head seemed to explode.
His visitor, hovering over him now, plunged a knife deep into Max’s chest, then repeated the motion. A second time, a third time, a fourth time. The stabbing continued until the rose petals disappeared into a pool of deep, dark red.

 

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Award-winning author and attorney Pamela Samuels Young writes mysteries that matter. Dubbed “John Grisham with a sister’s twist” by one reviewer, Pamela’s fast-paced novels often tackle important social issues.

Her most recent legal thriller, Failure to Protect, takes on the bullying epidemic and its devastating aftermath. Pamela won the prestigious NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Fiction for her thriller Anybody’s Daughter, which provides a realistic look inside the world of child sex trafficking. Her courtroom drama Abuse of Discretion centers around a troubling teen sexting case. #Anybody’s Daughter and #Abuse of Discretion are young adult editions of the two books. A young adult version of Failure to Protect goes on sale in December 2019.

Pamela also writes dangerously sassy romantic suspense under the pen name Sassy Sinclair. Her first foray into the romance genre, Unlawful Desires (2017), was awarded Best Erotic Romance by Romance Slam Jam. Her second book, Unlawful Seduction (2018), was honored as a finalist in Romance Writers of America/Passionate Ink’s Passionate Plume contest in the Best Contemporary Erotica category.

The prolific writer is a frequent speaker on the topics of sex trafficking, bullying, online safety, fiction writing, self-empowerment, and pursuing your passion. To invite Pamela to your book club meeting or to read excerpts of her books, visit www.pamelasamuelsyoung.com and www.sassysinclair.com .

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