Date Published: 20 June, 2017
Publisher: Carolina Blue Publishing
Katie Fitzgerald learned the hard way about love. She vowed to never get involved with a doctor at work, and when she did, he broke her heart. Older and wiser, Katie is serious about never getting hurt again. Dr. Flynn Reynolds, staff cardiologist at Windsor Falls Memorial, just might be the man to change her mind. Attraction explodes between the two from their very first meeting. But Katie is determined to protect her heart. Will Flynn convince her to take another chance?
About the Author
Kimberley O’Malley is a recent transplant to Charlotte, North Carolina from the frozen North. She is learning to say y’all but draws the line at sweet tea. Sarcasm is an art form in her world. When not writing, she is a full-time nurse and part-time soccer Mom, but not necessarily in that order. She shares her life with an amazing husband of more than twenty years, two teenagers, and one very sweet Shetland Sheepdog, Molly.
Facebook: Author Kimberley O’Malley
NEW COVER REVEAL
Genre: Contemporary Romance, MC Romance
Publication Date: July 20, 2017
Publication Date: July 20, 2017
Trouble by the name of Ruby rolls into town during Daytona Beach Bike Week, and as president of the Sentinels Tanner has his hands full with her and his MC.
As the president of the Sentinels Tanner has his hands full. It’s Daytona Beach Bike Week and Daytona is his town. Then trouble by the name of Ruby rolls in, pretty, sassy, and with enough curves to tempt a saint. Well, Tanner isn’t a saint, and she’s his kind of gal, except his onetime only rule isn’t for girls like Ruby. But then, rules are made to be broken, aren’t they?
WIN $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD
Contest runs from June 20 – 26, 2017.
About Tory Richards
I was born in Maine, but have lived most of my life in Florida where I went to school, married and raised my daughter. I retired from Disney a few years ago to focus on life, which includes spending more time with family, friends, traveling and writing. And let’s not forget my furry family. I have four cats.
I knew at the age of ten that I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. Spent hours penning stories by hand until at thirteen Santa brought me a manual typewriter. Then at seventeen I got an electric one. But nothing compared to my first computer.
I write romances of all kinds. Erotic, suspense, interracial, paranormal, biker, full length, short, and novellas. But one thing you won’t find in any of my stories, a cliffhanger! And all of my books have a HEA or HEAF ending.
Official website: http://www.toryrichards.com
Connect with Tory Richards on social media:
For more information, visit the The Sentinels Book Page at Book Unleashed.
In partnership with
Date Published: June 20, 2017
Publisher: Random Moon Books (indie)
Hardworking, successful lawyer Nora Ramsey, was at the height of her career. Now, she’s questioning everything in Murrell’s Inlet, South Carolina.
When she accepts her aunt’s dilapidated estate as her inheritance, Nora is plagued with misgivings and doubt. When one of her newly inherited horses takes ill, she prays for guidance and receives it in the form of veterinarian Shaw Flynn.
Dedicated and rugged, he assists Nora through the trying time. In Shaw, she sees someone gentle, caring and deeply devoted to God. The more she’s with him, the more he inspires her to embrace her own faith. And as their relationship blossoms into a something real and beautiful—like the coastal sunsets of Murrell’s Inlet—Nora stumbles upon Shaw’s deepest secret. Her trust is destroyed and the wisdom of her life-changing decision shaken as the future she envisioned is threatened.
As the truth becomes clear, can she find forgiveness within the sanctuary of her heart or will his betrayal destroy her faith in him once and for all?
Nora processed the stack of mail. One thick legal-sized envelope grabbed her attention. The return address was a law firm in South Carolina. A closer look revealed that the law firm was in Myrtle Beach. She shrugged and slid her finger under the envelope flap, pulled out the contents. She scanned the professionally prepared letter, frowned and read it again. She gasped and reached for her phone.
A few rings later, her sister Patty answered. “Hey sis, long time no …”
“Aunt Edie died?” she demanded.
“Uhhh, hello to you too,” she said pointedly.
Nora huffed, taking care of social niceties so she could get to the real information she wanted. “Yes, hello Patty, hope you’re well, did you have a nice day? And oh, by the way, did Aunt Edie die?”
“Yes,” her sister said, wisely getting to the point. “Like a month ago.”
“Holy smokes! Why am I just finding out about it now?”
“I don’t know. When was the last time you spoke to Aunt Edie?”
“Well … never. But just because we didn’t have a personal relationship doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to be filled in on family news, such as my favorite aunt from childhood dying.”
“Okay, sorry. Aunt Edie died from prolonged effects of the stroke she had about six months ago. You knew about that?”
“She was hospitalized after her stroke, eventually moving to a long-term care facility, and never really recovered. It was really more of a blessing than a sorrow that she passed on to be with the Lord.”
This news induced a wave of sadness over her. Aunt Edie, all alone, self-sufficient for the long years of her adulthood, suddenly unable to take care of herself. “Who took care of her?”
“You mean, who got her the care she needed?”
Nora shook her head, overwhelmed at all the details that had needed to be taken care of, the decisions that were made. Who helped her after her stroke? Who selected the place where they nursed her? Who visited her in her final months? Days? “Yeah.”
“She had good friends there in Murrells Inlet. She was a huge part of the community. She had church friends, neighbors. She was taken care of.”
“Wow,” she breathed. The reality and permanence of Aunt Edie’s situation permeated her mind. She would be Aunt Edie in a few decades. Alone, nobody checking on her. Except instead of being in a quaint beach town where neighbors watched out for each other, Nora would be in a pricey Philadelphia high-rise with a doorman and security doors where nobody knew their neighbors. When it came her time, would anyone even realize she was gone?
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, sis. I figured Mom would.”
Nora shrugged and said, “Yeah.” Mom probably would, if she’d done a better job of calling her regularly. Nora cringed when she thought of how many voicemails she’d received from Mom in the last month that she never returned. Or returned, but gave her a five minute time limit. Maybe Mom was meaning to tell her about Aunt Edie and Nora just hadn’t made enough of an effort. But with her long days and exhausting schedule, the last thing she wanted to do was sit with a phone plugged to her ear for an hour listening, or pretending to listen, to all the details of her mother’s retired life.
She squeezed her eyes shut and said a quick prayer of apology to God for that awful thought. She was lucky to still have a mother. She’d make an effort to stay in closer touch.
“So did you get your inheritance?” Patty asked.
“I assumed that’s why you’re calling. You got the inheritance letter from Aunt Edie’s lawyer?”
“Oh.” Nora shuffled through the small stack of papers. She hadn’t even gotten past the cover page where she’d learned of Aunt Edie’s death. Yes, the next few were the will. The lawyer had included the general wording, then had gone straight to the punch with what Aunt Edie had left her.
“Oh, my gosh.”
“What? What did she leave you?”
Nora stared, her mouth dropped open. The generosity of the inheritance astounded her. “What … what did she leave you?”
“She left us money to put into a college savings account for the girls.”
“Oh, how nice,” Nora said slightly, still staring at the page.
“Yes, it sure was. I mean, Joe and I had of course started saving for the girls’ college. But Aunt Edie’s gift will go a long way towards their expenses. And if there’s any money left over, we can give them each a gift of funds to start their adult lives with.”
“Yeah,” Nora said.
A quiet moment passed while she fully absorbed what her aunt was leaving her.
“So what did you get?”
Nora took a breath. “You’re not going to believe this, Patty.”
“Aunt Edie left me all her property. Ten acres, a barn and the house in Murrells Inlet. Everything – furniture, farm equipment.”
“That’s … extremely generous.”
A guilty wave came over her. Why would Aunt Edie leave her such a generous inheritance when she hadn’t even stayed in touch with the woman over the last few decades? When was the last time she’d seen Edie? Spoken to her? “I’m having trouble understanding why she’d leave this to me.”
“Aunt Edie loved you. And me. Both of us. She never had kids so we were like her children.”
“Yes, I remember going to this place every summer as kids.”
“Lots of sentimental value for the both of us.”
“But … why me?”
“I guess Aunt Edie wanted to help take care of my girls. And since you don’t have kids, and she knew you loved visiting there, that gift was more appropriate for you.”
Nora hesitated, not exactly sure how to put her concerns into words. Until she just came out with it. “Are you mad that she left the property to me?”
“Not at all,” Patty insisted. “No. Her gifts were well thought out. I live in the Midwest. I have kids to raise. What would I do with a beach front farm property?”
Nora nodded. So, no hard feelings there. That was a relief. “Wait. I’m a partner in a law firm in Philadelphia. What am I going to do with a beach front farm property?”
About the Author
Award-winning author Laurie Larsen leads a double life. During the day she’s a respected Project Manager in the fast-paced world of Information Technology. After dinner and a glass of wine, she becomes a multi-published author of Christian fiction grounded in today’s modern world.
Laurie’s been published for 17 years, but feels she finally found her writing “niche” in 2009 when her first inspirational romance, Preacher Man was published. It won fans, accolades, and the prestigious EPIC Award for the Best Spiritual Romance of 2010. From then on, her path was clear. She was put on this earth (in part) to tell love stories combined with a strong message of faith. Her Pawleys Island Paradise series is a much beloved, at times best-selling series of six books following Leslie and Hank, and the Harrison clan, as they face the daily challenges of life while trying to include prayer and praise. Reviewers say the books are heartwarming, life-changing and an example to follow for including God in your life.
Laurie loves the beach (obvious to anyone who’s read the Pawleys Island Paradise series) and she’s fondly looking forward to a day (not too far away) where she can retire from the demanding day job, and spend her days living at the beach and writing novels. Until then, she travels back and forth between Illinois and South Carolina just as often as possible.
Date Published: October 2016
The indomitable widow of a Marine sniper is faced with the reality of starting a new life with her teenage son, after hearing the awful news that her loving and brave husband was killed in the line of duty. Drawn back to her childhood home, Rossalyn Channing meets up with old friends and begins her healing process, safe in the loving company of her parents.
Irresistibly drawn to a mysterious little building in a small town, Rossie impulsively buys it and makes big plans for an eatery that her late husband would have loved. Things are not always as they seem in quaint small towns, however, and she begins to wonder if the challenges that she faces are insurmountable. The determination of the fearless military wife is strong, but will she prevail as a stranger in a strange land?
Add to the mix a body found on her property, and scary strangers randomly appearing to torment her, and you set the stage for the first book in the Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Series. This poignant tale of courage in the midst of adversity will inspire you, and leave you hungry for more.
Other Books in the Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries Series:
Baby Back Murder
Hawg Heaven Cozy Mysteries, Book 2
Published: December 2016
Rossalyn Channing’s savory new bacon-heavy business in a small town is booming, and she, along with son Ryan, is settling in quite well, until one of her favorite television shows comes to town wanting to film nearby. Rossie directs them to a place that she knows and is dismayed when her location turns out to be tragic. Sinister character emerge on all sides, and Rossalyn fears for her life and Ryan’s safety. With the help of some unexpected friends, will she manage to solve the murder before it’s too late? Find out in this next exciting installment of the Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Series!
Nacho Usual Murder
Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries, Book 3
Published: January 2017
Rossalyn Channing’s world is rocked when a stalker gets up close and personal. She receives surprises visits and surprise bouquets from a would-be suitor who was recently released from jail. Things take a dramatic turn for the worse as she becomes the suspect in a local murder, and everything turns upside down when a close ally seems to suddenly be acting suspiciously. Will the events that occur be enough to drive the newcomer Rossalyn, and her son Ryan out of their small town? Or will Rossie figure out who’s been lurking in the shadows, before it’s too late?
Hawgs, Dogs, and Murder
Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries, Book 4
Published: April 2017
Rossie’s accountant confesses a possible connection to the untimely demise of her coworker, and Rossie fears that the woman’s life might be in danger. Meanwhile, the single mom wonders if she’s losing her mind, or if there really is a stranger lurking about. Throw in a heaping helping of Jose’s amazing cooking, and a love triangle that just might be the end of her, and you have a hearty recipe for a good old-fashioned mystery, filled with action, drama, and suspense.
About the Author
Summer Prescott is a best-selling Cozy Mystery author. Her highly regarded INNcredibly Sweet series continues to be a reader favorite, and The Hawg Heaven series has been tremendously well-received. The author spends her days creating new and inventive ways for her characters to solve crimes and save the day.
Literary Fiction/Coming of Age
Publisher: Literary Vagabond Books
Poor Billy Green! When he was just turning four, his father tried to throw him in the trash. He was a smart kid but that just seemed to create enemies. His mom did everything to protect him. But this was Detroit, armpit of the wasteland! Catholic school didn’t help much, except the time he got his first kiss from an atheist nun. Home life was dismal. Was his father capable of anything but drinking beer and farting? And what was with that neighbor who made puppets and tried to molest Billy? Golly! Detroit was sucking the life out of him. At such a young age. Then adolescence swirled around him. Like water in a toilet bowl. High school was a B movie. Only without a plot. So finally he did something about it. Billy ran away … to college. Cornell University. That was a good move for sure! He studied hard, lost his virginity, met the love of his life. Things were definitely looking up! What could possibly go wrong?
Other Books in The Man Who Loved Too Much Series
The Billy Green saga continues! Billy’s challenging, sometimes humorous, sometimes tragic, always unpredictable journey.
He was more determined than ever to find meaning in life and comfort in love.
Billy came to know one thing for sure.
Love is real.
He could now with the absolute cocksure confidence of pure enlightenment, scoff at the naysayers and spit in the face of the purveyors of romantic nihilism, the cynics who say that love is an illusion.
Billy knew the real score.
Love is the light that never dims.
Love is a wine that flows in our hearts.
Love is a wonder that has no beginning or end.
Love is a master key that opens the gates of perfection.
Love is the language our souls use to speak to one another.
Love is the trafficking of fantasies and transcending of mortality.
Love is an energy that can neither be created or destroyed.
Love is God Allah Yahweh Shiva Qat Aphrodite.
Love is touch smell feel taste listen pray.
Love is the poetry of the senses.
Love is metaphysical gravity.
Love is the gift of oneself.
Love is sweet tyranny.
All you need is love.
Descartes. You almost got it right.
Je aime, donc je suis.
Yes. That’s how it should go.
I love, therefore I am.
Valentines Day solipcism.
But does it ever turn out the way we planned? The way we hoped and dreamed?
How do we function in a world which is both as randomly and intentionally cruel, as it is randomly and intentionally kind? Can we make sense of our lives when so much around us makes no sense?
In this, the final book of the trilogy, we find out what it means to be a “man who loves too much”. More importantly, we discover if Billy Green is such a man.
THE EARLY YEARS
1986 – 1995
It was an especially cold Thanksgiving on Woodward Avenue in Detroit. Today was the annual Thanksgiving Day Parade and the crowd alternated between shivering and cheering. People shuffled and stomped, attempting to keep their feet from freezing. Gusts of steamy cold blew from their dripping noses and through clenched teeth.
Suddenly Billy started screaming. “My balloon!! My Balloon!!”
“Harold, do something. His balloon!”
“Goddammit, Irene. Do I look like I have wings? It’s too late.”
Up up it went. The string had slipped from Billy’s grasp and the balloon was off to wherever balloons go. The stratosphere? Balloon heaven?
“You stupid little fuck. I told you to let me tie it to your wrist. But you’re so goddamn smart. See what happens when you don’t listen.”
Billy’s face instantly melted into a chastened mask of humiliation and defeat, as he started to cry like his puppy had been crushed under a bus.
“Nice work, Harold. Give the kid a complex. Let’s find a vendor and get him another one.”
“Over my dead body! He’ll learn something from this. Next time something is so goddamn important to him as that there balloon …” Harold jerked his thumb skyward at the latex dot which was all but invisible by now. “… maybe he’ll take better care of it.”
“Jesus Christ, he’s only three. How could I have married such a heartless man? Come here, sweetheart.” She reached down and picked up the heartbroken and tremulously sobbing young boy, face streaked and blotchy, mittens wet with the fresh tears of tragedy.
Another parade float approached and would soon be right in front of them.
She pointed. “Look, Billy. Look at the dinosaur.”
Sure enough, big as a moving van, bloated with helium, tethered to the 8-wheel steel flatbed of a float frame covered with artificial turf, and looking about as realistic as cardboard and crayons, was a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Its mouth was agape in what was supposed to be a scary, imminent man-devouring chomp. Several repairs were visible on the rubber underside, patches which were poorly matched in color to the skin of the faux beast. To underscore the implausibility of the threat, eight baton twirlers circled around the float, dancing, kicking their bare legs high, tossing and twirling gleaming chrome batons in the clear November air.
“Grrr!! Grrr!! Careful he doesn’t eat you up.” She tickled his cheek with her wool-gloved finger and tried to elicit a smile.
Billy had already stopped crying and just looked confused. He seemed more interested in the baton twirlers than the gas bag monster.
Next came a landlocked riverboat float, bearing the Flint Banjo Club players. This was their historic parade debut and they enthusiastically picked and twanged their way through various Dixieland and bluegrass favorites to a crowd which almost seemed to notice. Two mounted policemen followed, their horses snorting and blowing foggy jets from their wet nostrils.
“Harold, I need to powder my nose. Can you take him?” Giving her husband no real choice in the matter, she abruptly reached over and pushed the boy up against his father’s chest.
“Mommy, I have to—”
“Just sit tight, Billy. Mommy will be right back.”
“But, Mom … “
His father took Billy, obviously under protest, and slung him up on his shoulders. The boy completely caught off guard by the sudden and heavy-handed move, grabbed on desperately to keep from falling, wrapping his arms tightly around his father’s neck.
“Easy! Easy! You don’t have to choke me to death.”
Billy knew better than to try to talk to him and just settled in an uncomfortable slump against his father’s head. Before she had left, he was trying to tell his mom that he had to pee. But she was off to find a ladies room and it would have to wait until she got back.
He had to go. Really bad.
To make matters worse, his father was bouncing him. Whether this was to entertain Billy or just to try to stay warm was a moot point. The pressure of the full kidneys built quickly and all Billy could do was concentrate on holding it in. He couldn’t even look at the parade floats. He closed his eyes and bit on his lower lip. The critical pressure in his groin quickly intensified. He clamped his legs together as hard as he could against the urgent and painful need for release.
“What the fuck are you doing up there? This ain’t no wrestling match. Back off with the leg lock.”
His dad reached up under Billy’s arms and shook him to drive home his point. That was all it took for the dam to burst. Billy let out a tiny whimpering cry. Then silence. He tried to stop it but his urethral valve was open and it wasn’t about to be turned off until the job was done.
At first Billy’s father only noticed a slight increase in the temperature around and below the collar of his coat. Then he felt the wetness and sensed the faint odor of the boy’s young discharge.
“Is that what I think it is? You little shit!”
Billy was swallowed whole by shame and fear. He fought desperately to keep from crying and covered his face with both hands as his father roughly lifted him off and held him out in front of him to confirm his worst suspicions. Billy was still going. Pee dripped from the bottom of his wet trousers, past his shoes, onto the pavement.
Billy’s father was fast to act. Still holding Billy at arms length, he turned around and headed away from the street, towards the public restrooms, just as Billy’s mom was making her way back to join them.
At first she was puzzled at the way Harold was carrying the boy, then terrified by the look on her husband’s face. Obviously something had gone very wrong.
“I asked for a son and you gave me this piece of trash.”
She tried to grab for Billy, both to rescue him from his father’s rage and offer him whatever comfort might be needed. But Harold was too quick. He muscled past her and walked over to a large wire trash basket, already nearly full of newspapers, crumpled lunch bags and food wrappings.
He dropped Billy in head first and stormed away.
She was there within seconds.
“Are you all right? My poor little boy! My poor little boy!” She fought back her tears and tried to hide her anger, though the back of her eyes were angry hot embers and an ache for her abused little boy filled her chest with sulfurous pangs. As she reached down and uprighted Billy, she saw his wet pants and realized what had happened. She immediately drew him into the kind of hug that only a mother can provide a frightened child, covering his cheeks and head with kisses.
“It’s alright. It’s alright, my sweet handsome young man.”
The cushioning of the paper refuse already stuffed in the wastebasket had broken Billy’s plunge. He wasn’t hurt. No bruises. No scratches. Surprisingly, he wasn’t crying. He just blinked and stared off in the direction his father had taken.
Then he turned and whispered. “Can we watch the parade?”
“We probably should get you some new pants. Looks like you ran through the lawn sprinklers while I was gone.”
To take advantage of the masses of people attending the event, several stores were open for business, though it was a national holiday. His mom carried Billy into two clothing shops and they found some jeans he really liked. The new pants were a little big on him but at least they were warm and dry.
By the time they returned to the parade route, things were reaching a climactic conclusion. This, of course, was the arrival of none other than Santa Claus himself, on a motorized sled drawn by unmoving reindeer figures, deer-in-the-headlights gazes epoxied into their eyes, with the biggest reindeer celebrity of them all, red-nosed Rudolph himself, in the lead.
Billy’s eyes widened as the Santa float approached. Within minutes, there he was right in front of them, the man with the giant belly, rosy cheeks, red and white fur-trimmed suit, and a huge white beard which flowed down on his chest like angel hair. Santa laughed his deep, sonorous ‘ho ho ho’ and waved like a prom queen to the excited children and conspiratorial adults who were bonded together in a special covenant to perpetuate and promote the Santa myth, just as their parents had done before them.
When Santa had passed and only the top of his waving arm could be seen over the high back of his red and gold sled, Billy finally lowered his own tiny hand and let it hang at his side.
Lost in thought, Billy watched his own fidgeting hands, then looked up at his mom.
“Mommy. Can Santa bring me a new dad?”
About the Author
John Rachel has a B.A. in Philosophy, has traveled extensively, been a songwriter and music producer, political activist and is a bipolar humanist. Since 2008, when he first embarked on his career as a novelist, he has had eight fiction and three non-fiction books published. These range from three satires and a coming-of-age trilogy, to a political drama and recently a crime thriller. The three non-fiction works were also political, his attempt to address the crisis of democracy and pandemic corruption in the governing institutions of America.
Never knowing when enough is enough, the hyperthyroid Rachel continues to be very busy. He has three more novels in the pipeline for publication late 2017 through 2018: Sex, Lies and Coffee Beans, a spoof on the self-help crazes of the 80s and 90s; Love Connection, a drug-trafficking thriller set in Japan; and finally The Last Giraffe, an anthropological drama involving both the worship and devouring of giraffes, which unfolds in 19th Century sub-Saharan Africa.
John Rachel’s last permanent residence in America was Portland, Oregon where he had a state-of-the-art ProTools recording studio, music production house, a radio promotion and music publishing company. He still writes music and, much to the annoyance of his neighbors in the traditional rural Japanese town where he now lives, attempts to sing his original songs.