Posted in Blog Tour

Heart and the City by Cecilia Fyre **Excerpt** @rararesources

Happy Monday all!

Well our crazy world just got even crazier. I really have no words, but I do know I am very grateful for books that offer me an escape from reality.☮️

Heart and the City (Book 1 in the Love Medicine series

British doctor Lea Holm has come to New York to work in her chosen field of emergency medicine. She loves her new life in this exciting city and can’t wait to get started with her research project. The last thing she needs are distractions.

But then she meets famous actor Ricco Como in her building – a distraction if ever there was one. He’s gorgeous and sweet, and there’s an immediate connection between them. Lea tries to resist temptation, but when he comes to her for help dealing with his steadily worsening migraine she can’t turn away from his plight.

As Ricco’s health takes a turn for the worse, their lives become more and more entwined. But can their growing attraction withstand the strain of his ill health, and can he let Lea be more than just his doctor?

**This novella series contains detailed descriptions of long-term health conditions, cheating and a bereavement.**

The series is set in New York City and was written before COVID-19. It makes no reference to recent events.

Purchase Link –

Author Bio –

Cecilia Fyre is the pen name of a romance author trying out something new.

She likes sunny, crisp autumn days. Cups of hot cocoa with little marshmallows floating on top. The roaring of the sea. Laughing until your face hurts. The silence when you curl up with a good book. 

Her stories are about people. Some of them are strange, some think they’re boring. They all have secrets, they’re all scared sometimes. Cecilia writes about life, about love. About how hard it is to do it right. Usually, there’s a happy ending, or at least there might be one, someday.

But life’s not all sunshine and roses, and that’s why Cecilia tells her stories.

In the real world, Cecilia lives in England.

Social Media Links –

Giveaway – Win 2 x A Complete set of all 5 novellas in the Love Medicine series, in an ebook format (Open INT)

The five novellas are:

Book 1 – Heart and the City

Book 2 – Unexpected Truth

Book 3 – Been There Before

Book 4 – Wish The Pain Away

Book 5 – A Thousand Little Pieces

*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.



The shift seemed to have gone on forever. Lea put the clipboard on the front desk and stretched, a hand on her back. She winced as her sternum cracked.

Why was she so tired? She should be used to being on her feet for twelve hours. But today her lower back hurt, her feet ached and she just wanted to crawl into bed.

Her cell buzzed. The sound still startled her. She wasn’t used to having her phone during work. But now that Ricco was in her life, and his availability was unpredictable, she’d started carrying it during shifts.

This shift was as good as over, so Lea allowed herself to peek at the screen. It was a text message from Ricco, and her heart beat faster.

Hey baby girl, how’s work? U got 10 mins, can I call u? X

Lea frowned. In the last couple of weeks he’d started calling her baby girl, especially if he had bad news. Still, a message from him gave her butterflies. And it was unlikely that his news were migraine-related, or he would’ve called, no matter what she was doing.

She wrote back, Just finishing handover. Will call you in 15 mins. x

Lea took care not to let her mind wander while she gave the day shift instructions. Only when she was confident that she had delivered a good handover did she hurry into the junior doctor’s changing rooms.

Ricco answered on the first ring. “Morning, doc.”

“Morning,” she said. “You’re up early. It’s five am.”

“Couldn’t sleep, there’s too much to do.”

“Don’t give yourself another migraine over it,” she admonished.

“Good point.” He sighed. “Listen, babe. Some stuff’s come up. Travel show shit, someone fucked up and we gotta smooth things out before we can move ahead.”

This sounded ominous. Lea’s heart fell. “If it’s not convenient for me to come to Ottawa tomorrow, don’t worry about it,” she said, even though it was hard not to show her disappointment. “We’ll do it another time.”

There came another sigh. “I hate this, y’know,” he said. “I want you here so much. Finally show you the place.”

“Hey, they’re not gonna ban foreigners from visiting Canada anytime soon, are they?” she joked. “I’ll come next time you’ve got a few days to spare, don’t worry.”

“You’re the best,” he said in a quiet voice, sounding relieved.

“I know I am.” She had to make light, it wouldn’t help if he was upset. “Wouldn’t be much fun sitting in your house while you get drunk with suits.”

“Ha-ha.” His laugh was subdued, but at least it was a laugh.

“Listen, I’m really tired,” she said. “And I still have to drive home. Call me tonight?”

“Will do, babe. Drive safe, and get some real sleep, okay?”

“Hark who’s talking,” she sighed. “Have a good day, darling.”

“Speak later.”

“Bye.” Lea thumbed the phone off, disappointment bubbling inside her. She hadn’t wanted to make him feel bad, so she had kept a lid on it, but the thought of going to Ottawa had sustained her all week.

It had only been two weeks since the jazz club. A few days together without distraction was what they needed to see where things would be going from here. They both wanted things to work, but if they couldn’t spend any time together, that would be difficult.

But there was nothing to be done just now. Lea yawned, and changed into her street clothes. She had to get to bed, she was beat.

When she emerged from the changing room ten minutes later she noticed several of her colleagues staring at her. What was going on? Had she – her heart lurched – left the changing room without putting her jeans on? She looked down to check. Well, it wasn’t that, thank goodness. Kathy, her favorite nurse, beckoned her over to reception. A long, white box sat atop the counter.

“You got an admirer, Dr. Holm?” asked one of the day shift nurses and giggled.

“What do you mean?” Lea stared at her, then at the box, dread forming in her gut.

Kathy pointed at the box. “It’s addressed to you. Open it!”

Confused, Lea did so without thinking. When the lid came off she gasped, along with the nurses.

A dozen long-stemmed red roses nestled in white tulle paper, looking more expensive than any present Lea had ever gotten. Dazed, she picked up a small, gold-embossed card.

Sorry doc… x Before anyone could peek at it, Lea slipped it into her pocket.

“Who are they from?” The day nurse’s voice was hushed.

“No idea,” Lea lied. “No name on the card. Excuse me.” She snatched up the box, lid on akimbo, and hurried away without another word.

When she got to her car she bundled herself in and dumped the box onto the passenger seat. Then she sat there, out of breath from fleeing at high speed. After a minute she lifted the crumpled lid an inch. The red petals glinted through the gap. Lea snatched her hand away as if scalded.

That had been a real shock. Sure, Ricco was sweet and thoughtful, and he was sorry that they wouldn’t see each other this weekend. But why this grand gesture? They’d already talked on the phone, and he’d apologized. And why send the flowers to her workplace? Did he want everyone to know about the two of them? Maybe he did. They hadn’t discussed it. The possibility made her heart race.

Or was this another case of Ricco thinking he had to mollify her with an expensive gift? That she expected something like this?

Her phone buzzed. Lea flinched. It was another text from Ricco. U got them yet? They okay? Do u like them? Is it too much? X

Lea smiled. He was sweet, that silly doofus. And he seemed as much at sea with their thing as she was. She typed a reply. They’re quite something. My colleagues were impressed!

His response came within seconds. Too much, I knew it! Damn… I’m sorry?

Guilt churned in her gut. Sure, the roses were overkill, but he shouldn’t feel bad. Course not. I love them. Speak later, okay? x

Okay. I’ll call u. Sleep well! X

Shaking her head Lea put the phone away. It would take a while for him to believe that she didn’t need grand gestures. And she had to work on not freaking out about a gift. She glanced in the box again. The roses were exquisite.

Shame she had no vase for them, never mind a suitably grand place to put them on display.

Have a peaceful day and stay safe! XOXO Berit☮️

Posted in Blog Tour

Celeste Three Is Missing by Chris Calder **Excerpt** @rararesources

Happy Monday/Memorial Day all!

Today I’m excited to share with you this excerpt from what looks like a very intriguing book!✈️

Celeste Three Is Missing

The world’s first earth-orbit passenger plane, the sensational Celeste Three, takes off from its base in Arizona, also the only place where it is designed land. On a routine flight the craft disappears.

On board is Viktor Karenkov, billionaire oil magnate who has used his wealth to evade prosecution for a murder he committed years earlier. Gregory Topozian, the murdered man’s friend, has been waiting for a chance to bring Karenkov to justice. With dogged determination and considerable ingenuity, he conceives an audacious plan.

Getting the craft down in total secrecy is key. And someone has to pay the huge costs involved.

Purchase Links:

Amazon US :

Amazon UK:

Author Bio –

After ten happy years of retirement in rural France, Chris Calder is back in England. He came late to writing novels, penning his first whilst incarcerated in a French hospital following cancer surgery. At the time he spoke little French. Unable to communicate effectively with the staff, he spent his time fleshing out his first novel. Five more have followed; light thrillers leavened with humour. Best of all, the cancer is now history.

Chris knows that readers of fiction expect to be diverted and entertained. He loves feedback and believes passionately that taking on board readers’ views improves what what he does. You can email him at Go on, he’d love to hear from you.

Social Media Links –




An extract from the book manuscript.

Context: A routine test flight of space plane Celeste Two, predecessor of Celeste Three.

“All done?” Test pilot Matthew Wallace glanced over his shoulder at his colleague, first officer Richard Palfrey, on a test flight of the prototype space plane Celeste Two. Palfrey had been carrying out the pre-descent checks.

“Uh-huh. Just gimme a sec.” He scanned his instrument display panel again. “Yep, all good. I’m telling you, this is one sweet aircraft.”

“So far, but this is only her third flight. Better than Celeste One. I like the extra power but you can’t make a judgment yet. How far to re-entry engine burn?”

“About three minutes. Time to cross-check with FCC.” He was referring to the Flight Control Centre at their base in Benson Flats, Arizona.

In the captain’s seat Wallace sat up suddenly. The instrument panel displays had just switched off. “What the hell…?”

Palfrey reacted immediately, flicking the switch to open the communication channel to the control centre. “FCC, Celeste. There’s a problem, all displays are out,” he said crisply.

In the flight control centre director Gus Mead had been relaxed, watching over the routine test flight when the call startled him. Did he hear right? His stomach knotted as he jabbed at the send button, his words sharp and clear.

“Celeste, FCC. Say again, please, we do not copy. Repeat, we do not copy.”

The reply came from the usually laconic captain Matt Wallace.

“Matt here, Gus. I say again, we have no telemetry. The screen is blank.” In the background the voice of Rich Palfrey could be heard swearing as he tried desperately to resuscitate the dead display.

Mead immediately turned to Robin Stevens, another of the test pilots who was on monitoring duty in the control room.

“Any suggestions, Robbie?”

Stevens looked horrified. “Blank display? Shit, I thought they’d fixed that. Right now Celeste’s on the primary glide path, too close to re-entry burn.”

“Oh, God,” Mead muttered. He took a deep breath and pressed the send button.

“We’re on it, Celeste. We got you on GPS, we can count you down to the burn. What have you tried?”

“Everything. Gus, we gotta have attitude info. The screen is blank.”

Mead was staring at one of the three monitors. He turned to Stevens. “Get on to Pickard, right now. I want options, fast.”

Stevens grabbed his intercom to call the systems and electronics expert as Mead pressed the send button again.

“Copy that, Celeste. We’re checking with Pickard.”

“Too late for that. Count us down, I’ll give it my best shot. We don’t want to go exploring space just now.”

Mead’s heart was pounding. He knew that the only alternative was an attempt at re-entry, with Wallace relying on his experience and skill to get the entry attitude exactly right. Chances were not good. His mouth went dry as he made the effort to stay calm.

“You are precisely one hundred fifteen seconds to engine burn, Matt. Keep trying, here we go.”

With the room now silent and all present watching, Mead started the countdown. He kept his eyes fixed on the monitors as the seconds drained away.

“…..fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…”

From Celeste, Wallace cut in. “See you guys later.”

“…five, four, three, two, one, ignition.”

The tense silence of the control centre was shattered by the familiar roar of the engine’s blast, confirming that the burn was working and for a few heart-stopping moments all seemed well. Four seconds later it ceased, abruptly. Instantly Mead reached out and stabbed at the intercom.

“Celeste? Come in, Celeste. FCC to Celeste, come in.” The director’s voice cracked, his anxiety increasing. “Come in, Celeste. Matt, come in, dammit.”

There was no response. With his staff watching in complete silence, Gus Mead’s face reflected the horror they felt. He sank into his chair and put his head in his hands.

Have a lovely day! XOXO Berit🌸

Posted in Blog Tour

Rage and Retribution by Lorraine Mace @rararesources. *Excerpt*

Happy Monday all!

Sometimes I wish I had more time in the day to read! So many books so little time! This looks like such a good book and I’m hoping to be able to squeeze it in at some point!🖤

Rage and Retribution

Can two wrongs ever make a right?

A man is found by the side of a canal, comatose and brutally attacked.

It quickly becomes clear that someone is abducting men and subjecting them to horrific acts of torture. After three days they’re released, fighting for their lives and refusing to speak.

A councillor is accused of fraud.

Montague Mason is an upstanding member of the community. That is until he’s publicly accused of stealing the youth centre’s funds – an accusation that threatens to rip through the very heart of the community and expose his best-kept secret. But how far would he go to protect himself?

Two cases. One deadly answer.

As the two cases collide, D.I. Paolo Sterling finds he has more questions than answers. And, when torture escalates to murder, he suddenly finds himself in a race against time to find the killer and put an end to the depravity – once and for all.

Purchase Links

UK –

US –

Author Bio – When not working on her D.I. Sterling Series, Lorraine Mace is engaged in many writing-related activities. She is a columnist for both Writing Magazine and Writers’ Forum and is head judge for Writers’ Forum monthly fiction competitions. A tutor for Writers Bureau, she also runs her own private critique and author mentoring service. She is co-author, with Maureen Vincent-Northam, of THE WRITER’S ABC CHECKLIST (Accent Press). Other books include children’s novel VLAD THE INHALER – HERO IN THE MAKING, and NOTES FROM THE MARGIN, a compilation of her Writing Magazine humour column.

Social Media Links –






The perpetrator of the attacks on men is tormenting one of his victims. This is from the account Nemesis keeps in an encrypted blog.

As the soiled water ran into the drain under the table, Jason screams turned to whimpers. When I was certain he was as clean as I could get him, I turned off the tap and dropped the hose next to it. Walking back to the table, I smacked Jason’s cheeks with my open hand. I’d need to put some alcohol on those wounds, but that was a job for tomorrow. A final gift before I released him.

“Let me go,” he whispered. “You’ve had your fun. Please, let me go.”

“Is that what your victims said to you? Did they beg? Did they promise to do whatever you asked, if only you let them go?”

Jason went still.

“Ah, you didn’t realise I know everything about your sordid secret life, did you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said. “You’ve got the wrong man. That’s what it is, you’ve made a mistake.”

I sighed again. So bloody predictable. They all said that on days one and two. By tomorrow, when it was time for him to go home, he’d have confessed to his crimes and would never be stupid enough to commit any more.

“You’ve had it easy so far. I’m going to leave you until this evening to think about why you’re here. When I come back again, you can look forward to my visits every hour on the hour until I get too tired to service you. Bye for now.”

Jason must have realised I meant what I’d said, as he cried out.

“Wait! Please. I’m so thirsty.”

“Would you like some water to drink?”

Jason’s body trembled. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please, if you take off the blindfold I promise not to look. If you’ll just –”

“Just what? Give you a drink? Sorry, no can do. You have to take your punishment like a man. See you in a few hours.”

“No!” Jason begged. “Please. I’ll die unless you give me something to drink.”

“No you won’t. I told you. You’ll be here for three days. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink, but lots and lots of sex. Isn’t that what you tell your victims? Don’t you tell them they are there to provide you with lots of sex? Now it’s your turn to find out what that feels like. Keep that thought in mind until I get back.”

Posted in Blog Tour

Sisters by Choice by Susan Mallery @tlcbooktours @harlequinbooks *Excerpt*

Happy Monday!

I had an amazing weekend at an author event on the Queen Mary, only problem was I was not able to post everything I needed to, the Wi-Fi was very spotty. So I had more of a break then I was anticipating, simply because so many things would not load for me, but I am back!

About the Book

From the New York Times bestselling author of California Girlscomes an all new original Blackberry Island novel told with Susan Mallery’s trademark humor and charm. Sisters by Choiceis a heartfelt tale of love, family and the friendships that see us through.

Cousins by chance, sisters by choice…

After her cat toy empire goes up in flames, Sophie Lane returns to Blackberry Island, determined to rebuild. Until small-town life reveals a big problem: she can’t grow unless she learns to let go. If Sophie relaxes her grip even a little, she might lose everything. Or she might finally be free to reach for the happiness and love that have eluded her for so long.

Kristine has become defined by her relationship to others. She’s a wife, a mom. As much as she adores her husband and sons, she wants something for herself—a sweet little bakery just off the waterfront. She knew changing the rules wouldn’t be easy, but she never imagined she might have to choose between her marriage and her dreams.

Like the mainland on the horizon, Heather’s goals seem beyond her grasp. Every time she manages to save for college, her mother has another crisis. Can she break free, or will she be trapped in this tiny life forever?

Purchase Links

Amazon | Books-A-Million | Barnes & Noble

Connect with Susan

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram


Chapter Two

While the Blackberry Island Inn restaurant offered break¬fast and lunch, it didn’t serve dinner…except on alternate Wednesdays when the doors were opened for a traditional fried chicken supper. Sophie had been told by the nice lady at the front desk, and two women who had come by to “take a look” at the warehouse, that it was a do-not-miss event.

After confirming that Amber and Heather could make it, Sophie had made reservations for three. The restaurant didn’t have a liquor license, so she’d swung by one of the local tasting rooms to pick up a bottle of chardonnay and returned to the inn in time to meet Heather and Amber in the main reception area.

Sophie saw Heather first. The twenty-year-old held the front door open for her mother. Sophie had heard about Amber’s car accident, but hadn’t expected her to be using a cane or walk-ing so slowly.

Other than that, Amber looked much as she always did. A little rumpled, with a disapproving expression. Her hair was a medium brown, nearly the same shade as Kristine’s, but without the pretty highlights. Heather was taller than all of them, with hazel eyes, instead of the brown the cousins shared. Sophie al¬ways figured Heather had inherited the color from her father—a rodeo cowboy who, according to Amber, had seduced her into a one-night stand that had left her pregnant and with a ruined life.

On second thought, maybe she should have only invited Heather to dinner.

The wishful thinking made her smile as she hurried forward to greet them.

“You’re back!” Heather hugged her close. “I’m so excited to see you and hear about the business. I can’t wait to see the ware¬house you rented. It’s so exciting.”

Amber’s hug was less enthusiastic. “I can’t believe how far the parking is from the front door. I should have made my doctor give me a handicapped sign so we could have parked closer.”

“Mom, I let you off at the front door, then went and parked.”

“Where I had to stand by myself, waiting for you.” Amber rolled her eyes.

“You’re here now,” Sophie said, touching Amber’s arm, knowing the best way to handle her was to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. “Thanks for joining me for dinner. Shall we go get our seats?”

Amber set a snail’s pace that made Sophie instantly antsy. She distracted herself by linking arms with Heather.

“How’s school? Do you still have forty-seven jobs?”

“I took my last final yesterday. I should be able to see my grades anytime now. I only have three jobs.”

“You’re such a hard worker,” Sophie said. “You’ve been work¬ing since you were what, twelve? You must have a lot of money saved. Good for you.”

Heather looked at her mother then away. Sophie felt an in¬stant uptick in the tension between mother and daughter and wondered how she’d managed to step in it during the first three minutes of the conversation.

“The warehouse is huge,” she said, hoping to change the topic to something more neutral. Normally, she wasn’t bothered by the emotions of those around her but lately she was more sen-sitive to what everyone was feeling and that was a serious drag.

“It’s nearly double the square footage of what I had before. There’s less office space, but that’s okay. I don’t need that many employees and if necessary I guess we could easily frame in a few offices. I’ll have to see.”

“Because you’re too successful?” Amber asked, her tone more annoyed than playful. “Poor Sophie, overwhelmed by how glo¬rious it all is.”

“Mom! She had to move because her business burned down,” Heather said. “We’re glad she’s back but it’s not as if she moved by choice.”

“I’m okay,” Sophie said brightly. “Or I will be. It is a little hard, dealing with everything. A lot of work.”

They reached the restaurant and were quickly shown to a table with a view of the water. A sailboat caught the wind as it headed toward the setting sun on the horizon. The hostess handed them a slim piece of paper.

“The menu is fairly simple,” she said, waving at Heather. “You can order two, three or four pieces of chicken, along with two sides each. There’s a choice of cobbler for dessert. Your server will be by shortly to take your order and open the wine.” She smiled. “Heather, iced tea for you?”

“Just water’s fine, Molly.”

“A friend of yours?” Sophie asked, thinking they looked to be about the same age.

“I waitress here in the morning. They’re always busy and the tips are great.”

Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you worked here. I could have picked a different restaurant. You must be tired of their food.”

“I know I am,” Amber said with a sigh. “The same thing, every morning for breakfast.”

Heather visibly stiffened. “I didn’t know you felt that way, Mom. I always get the special, whatever it is. I’ll stop bringing you breakfast after my shift.”

“There’s no need to do that,” Amber told her. “I can make do.”

Heather’s expression was unreadable. She turned to Sophie. “Believe me, the chicken dinner is a real treat. I’ve only had it once before and it was delicious.”

“When did you have dinner here?” Amber asked sharply. “I didn’t know that. I never get to go anywhere.”

“You’re here now,” Sophie said quickly as she waved the menu. “Yummy. All the sides look delicious.”

“I can’t believe they only have cobbler for dessert.” Amber sighed. “I wanted pie.”

They were rescued by the server’s appearance. She opened the wine and poured two glasses, then brought water for Heather and biscuits for the table.

Posted in Blog Tour

A Degree of Uncertainty by Nicola K. Smith @nicolaksmith @rararesources #excerpt

Happy Saturday from a sunny Southern California!

One of the best parts about being a book blogger is you have access to so many amazing books and are introduced to so many amazing new authors. The problem is you don’t always have the time to get to them all. Here is a book that I would love to read I just unfortunately don’t have the time to, but I’m excited to share it with you because it sure looks great!

A Degree of Uncertainty

A Cornish town is slowly fracturing under the weight of its growing university…

Prominent businessman, Harry Manchester will not stand by and see his beloved hometown turned into a student ghetto — and many residents and students are relying on him.

But Harry’s stance sets him on a collision course with Dawn Goldberg, formidable Vice Chancellor of Poltowan University, who is set on doubling its size and cementing her career legacy.

As Harry’s marriage falls apart, his business comes under threat, and fellow traders accuse him of halting progress, Dawn is battling her own demons, not least the need to live up to her late father’s expectations and erase the memory of his tragic death.

There can only be one victor in this battle for the soul of a close-knit community…

Purchase Links

UK –

US –

Author Bio – Nicola K Smith is a freelance journalist contributing to a number of titles including the The Times,,, BBC Countryfile and Sainsbury’s Magazine. She lives in Falmouth, Cornwall, a town which inspired A Degree of Uncertainty, although it is set in the fictional Cornish town of Poltowan.

Social Media Links –

Twitter: @NicolaKSmith

Instagram: Nicolaksmith740

Facbook: @NicolaKSmith74

Giveaway to Win 10 x A Degree of Uncertainty (Open to UK Only)

*Terms and Conditions –UK entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.



(Extract from Chapter 18)

This extract gives an insight into the stagnant state of Harry and Sylvia’s marriage, shortly after they agree to put the house on the market.

Sylvia watched from the upstairs window as Harry banged in the For Sale sign at the end of the drive. He hammered it quickly and hard, throwing his considerable muscle behind the lump hammer to drive it into the earth. He finished with an almost frenzied display of battering that took her by surprise.

He stood back for a moment to look at it, kicking halfheartedly at the bottom of the post after raining down the final blow. It stood fast. He stared at it for a moment before starting back towards the house.

Sylvia turned away. Out at the back, just over the hedge, a flurry of activity had started as people unloaded three transit vans packed with large black boxes and generators. They ambled slowly to and from the marquee, which seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere the day before.

The weather looked promising. It was a bright February day and there was a hint of warmth in the mid-morning sunshine that flooded through the bedroom window. Sylvia closed her eyes, letting it bathe her face.

She could hear Harry in the kitchen downstairs, opening and closing drawers and cupboards and talking in the gruff voice he reserved solely for Sting. She listened.

‘Sylvia?’ His voice floated up the stairs, as she knew it would.

‘Sylvia?’ She heard his heavy tread, his voice growing clearer.

She placed both hands on the windowsill, examining her thin fingers, the age spots starting to take hold on her skin. His feet retreated back down the stairs and she imagined him standing ponderously in the hallway, Sting purring affectionately alongside.

Slowly she roused herself, opening her eyes once more to the bright light and rejoining the present. ‘I’m coming,’ she called with some effort, but her voice cracked as she did so, fading to nothing.

Harry’s voice rose from the back garden and she looked out to see him striding purposefully towards the field alongside a young guy who stood even taller than him. The younger man’s arm was thrown loosely around Harry’s shoulders, almost protectively. They appeared to be sharing a joke as they disappeared through the gate in the hedge.

She lingered by the bedroom window and watched the activity unfold before her. The cars coming and going, unloading more gear; young people chatting and laughing, embracing, Harry directing things from the middle of the field, stopping to talk to people as he went. She had always admired that about him; his social ease, his ability quickly to find common ground with people, and the way they seemed to gravitate towards him, to find some sort of comfort in his presence.

Sylvia had never been at ease among people. She had always experienced anxiety in social situations, trying too hard or too little, and almost always resorting to silence, choosing shut- down mode as the safest way to navigate gatherings. Since she’d been with Harry, she’d gained confidence. She could play second fiddle while he took the lead, and she felt it suited her, allowing her to find her groove without having to endure the spotlight. There were far fewer expectations of her when she was with Harry. People expected him to perform, to hold court, to lead the way. It meant the demands on her were few.

She watched him walking back to the house alone now, before the familiar sound of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ stopped him in his tracks. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and paused, bending to replace a divot as he spoke.

It was probably her, thought Sylvia, shoulders sagging. Harry turned his back on the house, his free hand in his pocket, toeing the grass while he spoke. Sylvia had heard from Nell that they’d moved into an apartment on the river. She had seen it on Facebook and agonised over telling Sylvia, eventually letting it slip while they were walking one day. Sylvia had given little away. In truth, it had simply failed to penetrate her numb state and she had placed the information as if in a mental pending drawer, to address when she felt able. She had not yet felt able.

When Harry finished the call, continuing his walk towards the house, he caught sight of Sylvia standing at the window. He didn’t break stride or raise his hand but returned his gaze to the path in front of him and kept on walking.

The back door banged shut and she heard him stamping his boots. ‘Sylvia.’

She began to descend the stairs. Harry was standing at the bottom.

‘OK if I bring a couple of the guys in for a coffee in the kitchen? Not the whole crowd, just Ludo and Rockstr probably.’

Sylvia nodded, one hand resting on the banister rail, her foot still on the bottom stair, as if she was unsure whether to descend fully. ‘There might still be biscuits in the tin.’

He looked at her expressionless face: eyes almost unseeing, mouth set. ‘Will you join us?’

She shook her head, still hesitating on the stair.

‘Come on. It’ll do you good.’

The back door banged again and the sound of exuberant voices filled the room beyond. Sylvia turned away to climb the stairs again but Harry took hold of her hand. She turned to face him, surprised.

‘Come on, have a coffee with us. I’ll introduce you.’

‘No, Harry, really. I’ve things to do.’

‘Like what?’

She stared at him, trying to wrench her hand away but Harry held it firmly.

‘Harry. Let me go.’

He let her hand fall and tried unsuccessfully to swallow the words before they came. ‘If you’d just try…’

Sylvia looked up towards the top of the stairs as if at the summit of a mountain. ‘This is me trying, Harry,’ she said softly.

Posted in Blog Tour

More Then a Game by Ralph Robb @ralphrobb @rararesources #excerpt #morethenagame

More Than A Game

Sabina Park Rangers is the first team of black players to reach the final of the Watney’s Challenge Cup. But coach Horace McIntosh has more selection problems than most. The First Division champions want to sign one of his best players – and right up until the day of the match he is uncertain that he will have a team for the biggest game in the club’s history because of arrests, a scam and an atmosphere of impending violence.

Author Bio – Ralph Robb was born and raised in the industrial town of Wolverhampton, England, and now lives in Ontario, Canada with his wife, two cats and a dog. A proud father of four, Robb works as an engineering technician and loves rugby, martial arts and of course a good book. His world is balanced by his obsession with comic books, quality TV, global events and the great outdoors.

Social Media Links :


Twitter: @RalphSRobb



Taken from the Prologue – giving an introduction to the setting of the book.

Horace McIntosh had set up business in 1957 after listening to his recently arrived compatriots grumble about their inability to get a decent haircut from an English barber. In the following twenty-four years his trade hadn’t altered much: even though the seventies was the decade of the big Afro, for a lot of his younger customers it was still mostly all about a trim and a touch of Dax, or a shave and a splash of Brut. It was the shop’s interior that had undergone the most changes during the time he had been cutting my hair. Over the years the walls had become covered with posters of black football players. When I first went there in the sixties there were only creased sepia-tinted photos of the Caribbean All Stars and Jamaican sides of the fifties. The only exception to the football theme was a framed photo of the all-conquering West Indies cricket team. As time went by, the walls began to be covered with pictures of mainly South American footballers as it would be years before Jamaica’s ‘Reggae Boyz’, or the Trinidad and Tobago side made their appearances at the World Cup finals. Up until then most of Wolverhampton’s West Indian soccer fans supported Brazil – or failing that any international side that happened to be playing England. As I headed into adolescence black players were still a rarity – some said an exotic curiosity – in English soccer, as there seemed to be a common belief amongst professional managers that black men were not robust enough for the rigours of the British game. That began to change in the mid-seventies when Ron Atkinson of nearby West Bromwich Albion became the first high-profile manager to challenge the notion of race-based fragility and put three black players into his team. Photos of Regis, Batson and Cunningham were promptly added to Horace’s wall to join the lonely figure of Clyde Best, a Bermudan who had once played for West Ham United. Wolves followed suit a few years later and put a couple of black players called Hazell and Berry into the first team, giving the town’s black people more than a passing interest about what they were up to. Looking back from a time when nearly one in four of the superstars in the English Premier League are black, the 1980s really do seem a very strange and backward time.

Posted in Blog Tour

Heathcliff by Sue Barnard @authorsusanb @rararesources #Heathcliff #excerpt

Happy Tuesday!

Have you read Wuthering Heights? Don’t tell anybody but I haven’t🤫 but I do know there is a character named HeathCliff and this is his story!


It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now…”

Cathy’s immortal words from Wuthering Heights change Heathcliff’s life. At just seventeen years of age, heartbroken and penniless, he runs away to face an unknown future.

Three years later, he returns – much improved in manners, appearance and prosperity.

But what happened during those years? How could he have made his fortune, from nothing? Who might his parents have been? And what fate turned him into literature’s most famous anti-hero?

For almost two centuries, these questions have remained unanswered.

Until now…

Purchase Link –

Author Bio –

Sue Barnard is a British novelist, editor and award-winning poet whose family background is far stranger than any work of fiction. She would write a book about it if she thought anybody would believe her.

Sue was born in North Wales but has spent most of her life in and around Manchester. She speaks French like a Belgian, German like a schoolgirl, and Italian and Portuguese like an Englishwoman abroad.

Her mind is so warped that she has appeared on BBC TV’s Only Connect quiz show, and she has also compiled questions for BBC Radio 4’s fiendishly difficult Round Britain Quiz. This once caused one of her sons to describe her as “professionally weird.” The label has stuck.

Sue’s first novel, The Ghostly Father (a new take on the traditional story of Romeo & Juliet), was officially released on St Valentine’s Day 2014. Since then she has produced five more novels: Nice Girls Don’t (2014), The Unkindest Cut of All (2015), Never on Saturday (2017), Heathcliff (2018), and Finding Nina (2019).

Sue now lives in Cheshire, UK, with her extremely patient husband and a large collection of unfinished scribblings.

Social Media Links –







Giveaway to Win a signed copy of Heathcliff (UK Only)

*Terms and Conditions –UK entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.


In this extract, which comes very early in the story, Nelly Dean describes her conversation with Cathy.

I really don’t understand what Miss Catherine can be thinking of. The only possible explanation is that she must have lost her mind.

Earlier this evening, she came to see me in the kitchen, almost in tears. During the afternoon, whilst Mr Edgar was visiting her, she behaved appallingly towards me and young Hareton, and she even slapped Mr Edgar’s face. Goodness only knows what he must have thought of her. When she first appeared I wondered if she might have come to say she was sorry, though I’m well aware that this is not in her nature.

What she did say almost knocked me sideways. She told me that Mr Edgar has asked her to marry him, and that she has accepted! Then – incredibly – she asked me if she was doing the right thing.

As if I could give her an answer! But in any case, it certainly isn’t my place to tell her. If she really is doing the right thing by marrying Mr Edgar, she would know in her own heart, and wouldn’t need to ask anyone – let alone the likes of me.

I asked her if she loves Mr Edgar. She said she does, because he’s “handsome, and pleasant, and young, and cheerful, and rich.” And also because he loves her.

My first thought, on hearing this, is one which I would rather not repeat. My second thought was Heaven help poor Mr Edgar… I managed to control myself and tried to reason with Miss Catherine, suggesting that she might be marrying him for all the wrong reasons.

But even though I could see she was already beginning to have doubts about it (she even admitted that in her heart and her soul she was convinced she was wrong), she wouldn’t listen to me. Not that I’m surprised. She was always a wilful and headstrong thing, even as a child.

Then she told me that she’d once dreamed she was in Heaven, but she’d been so miserable that the angels had thrown her back down to earth. It made me feel very uneasy, to be honest, until she explained that she had no more business to be in Heaven than she had to marry Mr Edgar.

But then she said, “It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff.”

I was so taken aback at this that at first I failed to notice a slight sound from behind the settle, and possibly the creak of a door. I glanced up, and imagined I saw a faint movement in the shadows. But Miss Catherine, who was sitting on the floor with her back to the door, went on talking.

If I thought she was crazy before, what she said next convinced me of it. Her next words, after saying it would degrade her to marry Heathcliff, were “…so he shall never know how I love him”.

Oh dear God in Heaven.

I opened my mouth to say: “Love is a great leveller, Miss Catherine. So if you really love Heathcliff, then the question of rank or status wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, enter into it.” But before I could speak she just carried on, saying her soul and Heathcliff’s were one and the same, whereas hers and Edgar’s were as different as they could possibly be.

Yet another reason why marrying Mr Edgar is the worst thing she could possibly do.

When she finally paused for breath I held up my hand for silence, saying I’d heard the sound of Joseph’s cart in the yard, and it was likely that Heathcliff would be with him. At that point, she panicked, clearly terrified that Heathcliff might have any suspicion of what she’s done.

“But Heathcliff doesn’t know anything about love, does he, Nelly?” she declared.

“How can you be so sure of that, Miss Catherine?” I replied. “Is there any reason why he shouldn’t know? Let’s just suppose that he does – and that you might be the one he loves. Can you even begin to imagine how he might feel, once he finds out that you’re going to marry Edgar Linton?”

“But we’ll still be together,” she protested. “Don’t you understand, Nelly? Nobody will ever separate us! Edgar will understand, once he realises how much Heathcliff means to me.”

My face must have betrayed my horror at this point, because she carried on: “Nelly, I know you must think I’m a selfish brat. But has it not occurred to you that if I married Heathcliff, we’d be little more than beggars? Whereas if I marry Edgar, I can help Heathcliff to better himself.”

I was aghast. “With your husband’s money, Miss Catherine? Do you honestly think you can get away with that? And, begging your pardon, I think that’s your worst reason yet for agreeing to marry Mr Edgar.”

“No, it is the best reason of all!” she shouted. “Don’t you see how unselfish I’m being? I’m doing this for Heathcliff, not for myself or for Edgar! Don’t you understand?”

“No, Miss Catherine, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” By now I had run out of patience with her. “As far as I can tell, either you have no idea of what is expected of a married woman, or you are just a spoilt, unprincipled child. Please spare me any more of your ramblings.”

At this point the door opened and Joseph entered, effectively bringing our conversation to a close. Miss Catherine slumped into a seat in the corner, whilst I moved to the stove to continue preparing the supper. As I passed round to the other side of the settle, I spotted a small pale object on the floor underneath the bench by the wall. Bending down to retrieve it, I recognised Heathcliff’s clay pipe.

I recalled having heard the door creak. That was when I realised what had happened: Heathcliff must have overheard the earlier part of our conversation, up to when Miss Catherine said it would degrade her to marry him – at which point, he’d got up and left.

Posted in Book Spotlight

The Summer of Sunshine and Margot by Susan Mallery @SusanMallery @harlequinbooks @tlcbooktours #excerpt #thesummerofsunshineandmargot

Happy Monday all!

Delighted to share with you today and excerpt from this book that I am really looking forward to! The book comes out on June 11 and I will be sharing my review with you later in the month, this is a perfect summer beach read!🏖

About the Book

The Baxter sisters come from a long line of women with disastrous luck in love. But this summer, Sunshine and Margot will turn disasters into destiny…

As an etiquette coach, Margot teaches her clients to fit in. But she’s never faced a client like Bianca, an aging movie star who gained fame—and notoriety—through a campaign of shock and awe. Schooling Bianca on the fine art of behaving like a proper diplomat’s wife requires intensive lessons, forcing Margot to move into the monastery turned mansion owned by the actress’s intensely private son. Like his incredible home, Alec’s stony exterior hides secret depths Margot would love to explore. But will he trust her enough to let her in?

Sunshine has always been the good-time sister, abandoning jobs to chase after guys who used her, then threw her away. No more. She refuses to be “that girl” again. This time, she’ll finish college, dedicate herself to her job as a nanny, and she 100 percent will not screw up her life again by falling for the wrong guy. Especially not the tempting single dad who also happens to be her boss.

Master storyteller Susan Mallery weaves threads of family drama, humor, romance and a wish-you-were-there setting into one of the most satisfying books of the year!

Purchase Links

Amazon | Books-A-Million | Barnes & Noble

Connect with Susan

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram


An hour and a half later, Sunshine put a completed salad into the refrigerator and glanced at the clock. According to a text from Declan, he was planning on joining them for dinner. She’d set the table for three, but honestly, she wasn’t holding out much hope. Her boss was in the middle of a big project—something about designing the gardens of a new five-star hotel just north of Malibu. Not only was the job time consuming, there was actually no good way to get to Pasadena from anywhere by the beach without dealing with miles of gridlock and hours stuck in traffic. More than once he’d texted to say he would be home in time for dinner only to call her an hour later to say he was still on the freeway and to start without him.

Sunshine didn’t mind when it was just her and Connor, but she knew the boy missed his father when he wasn’t around.

Once he got home, Declan spent the rest of the evening with his son and he was the one to get Connor ready for bed. They were obviously close, which was good. Still, the whole situation remained slightly awkward for her. Normally by the three- week mark of a job, she was comfortable in the house and had a set routine. She and Connor were doing great, but she’d barely seen Declan and they hadn’t talked and she really had to tell him they should have a sit-down at some point. Maybe in the next couple of days.

The first weekend she’d been employed, Declan and Connor had gone to Sacramento to visit Declan’s parents. Last weekend, Declan had been out of town at a conference and this weekend she had no idea what was going on.

“Do you and your dad have plans for tomorrow?” she asked. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. If he’s busy, what do you want to do?”

“I thought we’d go to the Star Eco Station.”

Connor finished putting the flatware in place. “Do I have to hold the tarantula?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Arachnids aren’t ants,” he said, his tone defensive.

She held up both hands. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m perfectly fine with an ant farm but if you told me you wanted to start a spider colony, I’d run screaming into the night.”

He grinned. “In your pajamas?”

“Very possibly.”

His laughter was interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening.

“Dad’s home! Dad’s home!”

She watched him race across the kitchen and through the mudroom, then looked back at the table. Looked like there would be three for dinner and wouldn’t that be fun.

Not that she was nervous. She wasn’t. It was just she barely knew Declan. Which was fine—tonight they would have a conversation over lasagna roll-ups with ant-sized zucchini.

“…and Sunshine’s going to help me with the ant farm. We’re going to check online tomorrow and it’s okay because I read three books and I’ve checked out two more from the library and I’ll read them this weekend so I’m gonna know everything.”

Based on the framed photographs she’d seen in Connor’s room, Sunshine knew he took after his mother. He was small for his age, with a slight build and dark hair and eyes, so every time she saw Declan, it was something of a shock.

The man was big. Not heavy, but tall with broad shoulders and a lot of muscles. He had sandy-colored hair and green eyes, had to be at least six-two. With her only being five-four, that seemed a little extreme. He wore a suit and tie most days, which somehow made him even more impressive. He also had a presence about him—he was someone who was noticed wherever he went. She didn’t know him well enough to have much of an opinion about him, but he seemed like a decent kind of guy. He loved his son and honestly that was all she cared about.

“Good evening, Mr. Dubois,” she murmured as he set down his briefcase, then swept Connor up in his arms and turned the boy upside down.

As his son hung there, shrieking with happy laughter, De clan met her gaze. “We talked about this, Sunshine. Call me Declan, please.”

“Okay, just checking.”

“I want to keep things casual.”

She liked casual. Now that she thought about it, casual was probably for the best considering she’d kicked off her shoes when she’d walked into the house and was currently standing barefoot, wearing jeans and an oversize T-shirt advertising a bar in Tahiti.

Declan turned Connor right side up, then glanced at the table. “That looks nice. What are we having?”

“Ant food!” Connor told him gleefully. “Zucchini ant sticks.”


“Salad, lasagna roll-ups, garlic knots and zucchini fries,” she corrected.

“The garlic knots are bread,” Connor told his father. “I tied them all myself.”

“Did you?” Declan ruff led his hair. “That’s great. Give me five minutes to get changed and I’ll be back to help.” He picked up his briefcase and started for the hallway, his son at his heels. “Sunshine, do you drink wine?”

“Only on days ending in Y.”

“Good. Why don’t you pick us out a bottle of red from the wine cellar? You know where it is?”

“I do.”

Except for Declan’s bedroom, she’d explored the house that first weekend. She knew every place an eight-year-old boy could hide and had moved a bucket full of different bottles of cleaning solutions out to the garage. Yes, Connor was old enough to know not to play with stuff like that, but why tempt fate?

Looks good, doesn’t it! Berit

Posted in Blog Tour

Cross line by Russ Colchamiro @authorduderuss @rrbooktours1 #bookpromo #crossline #excerpt #giveaway


Welcome to the blog tour for Sci-Fi/ Adventure CROSSLINE, by Russ Colchamiro! I have an excerpt, book trailer, and a fantastic giveaway for you all today! Check it out!


First Published: March 2013

Genre: Science Fiction/ Fantasy

“A high-flying adventure of a novel, filled with ambitious ideas and a breathtaking conclusion.” — The Leighgendarium

In the SciFi/Fantasy spirit of Firefly, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Stargate, and Escape from New York…

Hotdog pilot Marcus Powell has been selected to test Taurus Enterprises’ Crossline prototype craft and its newly developed warp thrusters, which, if successful, will revolutionize space travel as we know it.

But during his jaunt across the stars, Powell is forced into a parallel universe — including a parallel Earth — where he finds himself at the center of an epic battle he may have been destined for all along.

Meanwhile, back home, reclusive oil tycoon and Taurus CEO Buddy Rheams Jr. — who sent Powell on that very mission — has a mysterious past and a secret agenda, one that could prevent Powell from ever making it back to his wife and little girl.

From author Russ Colchamiro, Crossline is a psychedelic, action-packed romp across time, space, and dimension that asks the question: once you cross the line, can you ever really go back?

Add to Goodreads


The warp engines were ready for the first of six return blasts it would take to get him back to Earth, when a blip came across the screen. Powell shifted toward the incoming message, but his short-range sensor interrupted him. Something in the Saturn rings. Video amplification revealed that among a cluster of particles was an odd-shaped fragment, with sharper, more reflective edges than he would expect. But he supposed that after debris crashed around over millions if not billions of years, who knew what was really out there? He looked again. Probably nothing of consequence. Just some lagging hallucination from the multiple warps.

As suspected. Just ice particles swirling around the planet. Billions of frozen blue ice particles floating in space that—

Powell focused his monitor on the third ring layer. Studying it more carefully, his sensors revealed that the particle cluster wasn’t in the Saturn ring, but among it. The fragment wasn’t ran- dom, a collection of dust, or some anomalous asteroid fragment.

It was another ship. Looking just like Crossline. And headed his way.


Barnes & Noble

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For your chance to win a print copy of this high-flying adventure in either print or digital, AND a $15 Amazon Gift Card, be sure to click the link below!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author

Russ Colchamiro Headshot

Russ Colchamiro is the author of the rollicking space adventure, Crossline, the zany SF/F backpacking comedy series Finders Keepers: The Definitive Edition, Genius de Milo, and Astropalooza, and is editor of the SF anthology Love, Murder & Mayhem, all with Crazy 8 Press.

Russ lives in New Jersey with his wife, two ninjas, and crazy dog Simon, who may in fact be an alien himself. Russ has also contributed to several other anthologies, including Tales of the Crimson Keep, Pangaea, Altered States of the Union, Camelot 13, TV Gods 2, They Keep Killing Glenn, Thrilling Adventure Yarns, Camelot 13, and Brave New Girls.

He is now working on the first novel in a new series featuring his hardboiled private eye Angela Hardwicke, and the first of three collaborative novella projects.

Russ ColchamiroFacebook | Twitter | Goodreads  


Blog Tour Schedule

May 27th

Reads & Reels (Excerpt)

She Marie (Excerpt)

Tranquil Dreams (Review)

Didi Oviatt (Excerpt)

Tsarina Press (Excerpt)

May 28th

The Magic of Wor(l)ds (Interview)

Ity Reads Books (Review)

The Book Dragon (Review)

Breakeven Books (Excerpt)

May 29th

The Faerie Review (Review)

Audio Killed the Bookmark (Excerpt)

Reading Nook (Excerpt)

May 30th

That Nerdy Girl (Review)

Triquetra Reviews (Excerpt)

Reviews by Nyx (Excerpt)

May 31st

Every Book Counts (Review)

Jessica Belmont (Review)

Dash Fan Book Reviews (Excerpt)

Sophril Reads (Excerpt)

The Consulting Writer (Excerpt)

Blog Tour Organized By:


R&R Book Tours


The warp engines were ready for the first of six return blasts it would take to get him back to Earth, when a blip came across the screen. Powell shifted toward the incoming message, but his short-range sensor interrupted him. Something in the Saturn rings. Video amplification revealed that among a cluster of particles was an odd-shaped fragment, with sharper, more reflective edges than he would expect. But he supposed that after debris crashed around over millions if not billions of years, who knew what was really out there? He looked again. Probably nothing of consequence. Just some lagging hallucination from the multiple warps.

As suspected. Just ice particles swirling around the planet. Billions of frozen blue ice particles floating in space that—

Powell focused his monitor on the third ring layer. Studying it more carefully, his sensors revealed that the particle cluster wasn’t in the Saturn ring, but among it. The fragment wasn’t ran- dom, a collection of dust, or some anomalous asteroid fragment.

It was another ship. Looking just like Crossline. And headed his way.

Posted in Blog Tour, Book Promo

The Family Lie by Jake Cross @bookouture #bookpromo #thefamilylie

Now Available!!!

About the Book

You whispered goodnight to your daughter. You didn’t know that would be your last goodbye.

You wake up in the middle of the night.

Your five-year-old daughter is gone.

Your husband is nowhere to be seen.

Your family think he took her.

The police believe he’s guilty.

But he wouldn’t do that, would he?

He’s a loving father. A loving husband. Isn’t he?

An addictive and completely gripping psychological thriller with a twist that will blow you away. Fans of The Girl on the Train,K.L. Slater and Shalini Boland won’t be able to put down this jaw-dropping novel.


Check Out An Excerpt

About the Author

Jake has been making stuff up from a real early age. His parents never believed his silly lies when he was young, so he still has no idea why he thought he could invent a decent story as an adult. But he kept trying, and here we are. THE CHOICE is his first novel, the first of three thrillers to be published by Bookouture, and he hopes you like it. If you don’t, he at least hopes you don’t ask for a refund.


Author Social Media Links





Buy Link: 


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