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Only The Valet Will Do Blitz

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Historical Romance

Date Published: February 14, 2023

 

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A fated love destined to test their devotion…

 

When Lady Lilliana gets stuck in a hole and Mr. Tristan Henley comes to her
rescue, sparks immediately fly. Unfortunately, instead of being a fellow
peer, Mr. Henley is merely a valet. So as much as Lilliana would like to
pursue a romantic attachment with him, she must refrain, lest she ruin her
reputation. Something she probably should have considered before she
welcomed his kisses.

Intent on supporting his family, Tristan seeks employment, only to fall for
a woman he knows he cannot have. Lady Lilliana is everything he could
possibly dream of in a life partner. But pursuing her could spell disaster
for them both. Because the last thing Tristan needs is the complication
he’ll have to deal with if she discovers he’s not who he claims
to be.

About the Author

Sophie Barnes

USA Today Bestselling Author, Sophie Barnes, has spent her youth traveling
with her parents to wonderful places all around the world. She’s lived in
five different countries, on three different continents, and speaks Danish,
English, French, Spanish and Romanian with varying degrees of fluency.

She has studied design in Paris and New York and has a bachelor’s degree
from Parson’s School of design, but most impressive of all – she’s been
married to the same man three times, in three different countries and in
three different dresses.

While living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion –
writing.

When she’s not busy, dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys
spending time with her family. She currently lives on the East Coast.

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Galactic Treasure Teaser Tuesday

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Sci-Fi Romance, LGBTQ, Alien Encounters, Multiple Partners

Date Published: February 17, 2023

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Connor Masterson has finally managed to take some time off and go to Earth
Con. For three days and nights, he’s going to get his geek on without
worrying about work or the latest edition of his science fiction manga. He
never expected to find two men who embody all his dreams and fantasies there
and certainly not right after signing in.
 

Neither Valvik nor Zaraheed are looking forward to their current
assignment: go to the Earth Con located in Austin, Texas and track down any
and all rumors on the Ark scrolls, an ancient collection needed for the
betterment of their dying people. Neither warrior expects to be drawn to a
human, especially the same one.

The two men are determined to stay as low key as possible while searching
for the scrolls, but that might be hard to do when an intergalactic killer
wants the scrolls for himself.

 

Galactic Treasure tablet, phone

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Theodora Marie Adams

 

“I truly cannot believe you have somehow convinced me to participate
in this harebrained scheme of yours,” Valvik growled through clenched
teeth as he looked around the lobby. It was filled with people clustered in
groups. Some were talking loudly, others were whispering as though fearful
someone other than their neighbor would hear their innermost secrets. There
were humans dressed in their favorite character’s attire, aliens, human and
alien scientists, intergalactic explorers and military men and women, and
everything in between represented in the lobby of the center housing this
weekend’s Earth Con.

Valvik pulled at the hem of his simple white T-shirt. He felt ridiculously
underdressed seeing as more than a quarter of the people there were dressed
to the nines in their costumes and regalia, particularly those with an
intergalactic military background. “I should have worn my
uniform,” he snarled.

“This is an important assignment given to us by General Tsubotai
himself.” Zaraheed turned slightly and looked over his shoulder at
Valvik. His handsome face was a mask of displeasure. One dark eyebrow
arched. “We are attempting to fit in. We are already conspicuous
enough,” he whispered harshly, glancing around at the many eyes
watching them in curiosity.

At six feet eight, Valvik felt Zaraheed should be accustomed to being
stared at on Earth. They’d been dealing with the looks the whole cursed
assignment. Not that Valvik himself was much less physically impressive at
six feet five inches.

Valvik stifled the urge to roll his eyes. It was a very human reaction, and
really he was going to have to stop watching all their television, no matter
how entertaining it was. “Humans are short. We look like giants
compared to them. Second, we stand out because we are wearing regular
clothing, or are you too blind to see everyone else is wearing their native
ensembles? We are meant to be as discreet as possible.”

“By dressing as humans, we actually stand out more,” he grumbled.
He glanced around the lobby again and blinked. “Isn’t that a
Pulloxian?” Valvik asked, and jerked his chin toward the being in
question.

The being wore no disguise, at least none that Valvik could recognize. The
male, and Valvik could tell its gender from the marks on his fur and their
placement, was not trying to hide his large droopy eyes, medium green skin
with black splotches, or his four-fingered, claw-tipped hands. To a human,
the Pulloxian looked like a two-legged basset hound with slightly smaller
ears and green fur. He was as conspicuous as one could get.

Zaraheed followed his gaze. He sighed and his broad shoulders slumped
slightly. His amber eyes searched the group gathered around the Pulloxian.
“Maybe you are right, as that one does seem to be basking in their
attention,” he admitted after a moment of contemplation.

“True.” Valvik continued moving through the crowd so he could
reach the check-in table that stood right in the middle front of the lobby.
His superior hearing was able to capture bits and pieces of the conversation
flowing around him. It seemed the Pulloxian was going to be a “shoe
in” for best costume.

“Still, General Tsubotai was clear about what he expected of
us.”

“I read the mission parameters. There is no need to remind me. I would
just like to point out that if we were allowed to wear our uniforms we would
not be unarmed.”

Zaraheed snorted. “You expect me to believe you are unarmed at the
moment. Do not play me for a fool, Valvik the Glorious. You are probably
carrying no less than five blades on your person.”

Valvik allowed a small smile to settle across his mouth. “I am not as
armed as I would like, and that is the truth. I am sure you feel the same,
Zaraheed the Valiant,” he retorted, looking his compatriot up and
down.

Zaraheed’s dark hair was bound into a single plait. The tail end of his
sable hair swung just between the strong muscles of his back. A few strands
had pulled free from the braid and framed the sides of Zaraheed’s sharply
planed handsome face. His most startling and mesmerizing feature was his
eyes. They shifted colors depending on his emotion, going from the lightest
sunset orange to the darkest color of a flame. Valvik had never seen such
eyes before. He doubted he’d ever see another pair again.

Zaraheed caught Valvik staring. His gaze tightened. “What?” he
asked.

Valvik shook his head. “Nothing. Forgive me. It seems I was lost in my
thoughts,” he admitted as he waved a consoling hand through the
air.

Valvik was still trying to get accustomed to Zaraheed’s dark complexion. As
far as he knew all the members of the House of the Gallant had light hair
and eyes. Valvik’s house, Disciplined, had similar coloring. Valvik had pale
blond hair and lavender eyes.

His dark hair and lightly tanned skin made Zaraheed an outsider, just as
his gorgeous eyes did.

He’d heard rumors that Zaraheed was only half Tolkian. Valvik had done his
best to ignore them as he wasn’t much for gossip but he couldn’t help
wondering about the source of Zaraheed’s mesmerizing features.

This was the second mission the two were working together so it wasn’t that
he’d never seen Zaraheed or noticed his unusual coloring, but there was
something about seeing him in the lobby, wearing the preferred dress of the
North American human male: white short-sleeve shirt and dark denim jeans,
waiting in line for them to sign in for the Earth Convention that made
Valvik all the more aware of his rich coloring.

The clothing should have made him appear as pale and washed out as it did
Valvik, but Zaraheed looked magnificent. A small tendril of desire curled in
his gut when he first walked into the convention center and spotted the
Valiant warrior.

“I hope they are here,” Zaraheed murmured, breaking him out of
his thoughts.

Valvik grimaced, thinking on his words. It would be a shame if the scrolls
they were searching for weren’t on Earth. He personally thought it was
ridiculous that the scrolls their whole legion had searched a thousand years
and several galaxies for was supposedly on Earth and at a science fiction
gathering. He laughed long and hard, until his stomach muscles protested,
when his commanding officer relayed the information, thinking it was a
joke.

Three standard months later and Valvik was in Austin, Texas, waiting in
line for the Earth Convention.

Personally, Valvik didn’t think there was a chance in all the known solar
systems of the Ark scrolls being at the convention, but he went where his
commanding officer sent him. Even if it was the stupidest mission ever.
“If it is… I’m not entirely sure what I will do, but I know it will
include lots and lots of blood,” he muttered. And intoxicants. He would
need barrels and barrels of wine to drink away the insult.

Zaraheed stilled. Valvik turned to look at his compatriot in question.
Zaraheed shook his head as though confused, then, eyes bright, laughed. The
booming sound caught the attention of the people waiting around them and
they watched, mesmerized.

Valvik knew how they felt…

 

 

About the Author

Theodora is an avid traveler who discovered Japanese manga and anime in her
youth, closely followed by yaoi. She’s been in love with pretty boys who
love equally attractive men since then. Theodora can usually be found in a
local coffee shop drinking black tea and typing furiously.

 

Follow the Publisher on Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

 

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Vagabonder Virtual Book Tour

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Science Fiction/Fantasy

Date Published: 09-20-2022

Publisher: Aurelia Leo

 

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Humans have always feared Caen’s kind.

Survivors of a mysterious virus, Ruĝa Morto, that killed 80% of
Earth’s population two centuries ago, they have endured enslavement as
Neurologically Compromised Individuals, or NiCIes, owned by OnyxCorp. Now,
in 2261, Caen begins a perilous journey to seek the Vagabonders, the
original moon colonists, whom many believe hold the key to freeing his
people.

He knows he is hunted. He expects death at every turn.

But he doesn’t anticipate meeting Dr. Ligeia Obumbwe, a human
biogeneticist desperate to protect her brother Finn, yet another victim of
the endemic virus. When OnyxCorp promises to keep Finn safe in exchange for
her work in their lunar lab, she accepts despite her increasing unease
regarding the Corporation’s motives.

Ligeia and Caen become unlikely partners in a dangerous quest to reach the
Vine, the space elevator that is the first step in their journey to the
moon.

What they find along the way could help them bring OnyxCorp to its
knees…or destroy everything they love.

Vagabonder tablet

EXCERPT

Chapter 3

I wander through Montevideo’s broken industrial district for an hour before I find the next station, a warehouse several blocks from the canal’s edge. Headquarters for Lee Chou.  Montevideo was once a thriving metropolis, even after Ruĝa Morto, but now, ruined by rising sea levels and neglect, it’s practically abandoned. Every building looks the same: Corrugated siding, graffiti, warnings against trespassing, Closed by OnyxCorp Authority in a variety of languages and symbols. As I pick my way through the crumbling streets and refuse, I notice a few stubborn residents peeking from makeshift doors and windows in rusting cargo containers. I give one or two a nod, prompting them to disappear without a word.

Every Dua child knows the name Lee Chou. Tales about unfortunate Dua children have the same moral: Always obey Authority, or Chou will take you. Follow the curfew, or Chou will get you. Never upset a human, or Chou will snatch you up. Chou’s reputation as a smuggler and ruthless killer is fueled by his association with OnyxCorp, which has relied for decades on his services. The remnants of outdoor enclosures surrounded by chain-link fencing are scattered throughout the district. Those enclosures are empty now, but over the decades they’ve confined thousands of Dua, bound for workstations across the globe, on the Vine, on the moon. 

Why would Mama send me here, straight to the boogeyman’s lair? I can’t begin to guess. You will find Lee Chou in Montevideo. Then you will know what to do next. Typically cryptic, but it’s the only thing I have to go on if I’m to make my way to the Vine.

This building is much like the others, save for a bright green door and the human male perched on a metal chair to the door’s left. The back of his bald head rests against the building’s metal siding, and his arms hang loosely at his sides. A weapon of some kind lies across his lap. His face is leathered by UV exposure. He lets out a rumbling snore as I approach. 

Unimpressive so far, but I’m not keen on startling him and getting blasted with whatever weapon he has. I stop several meters away and clear my throat. Nothing. I take a few more steps forward and kick a piece of metal siding lying on the ground as hard as I can, sending it sailing into a pile of similar metal debris. 

The man leaps, knocks the chair over, and sends the weapon flying to land at my feet. I bend, retrieve the weapon, and rise.

“I’m here to see Chou.”

The man shifts from his left foot to his right. “Now, listen, man. I don’t want any trouble.” His voice is a whisper, and when he glances nervously back toward the green door for a third time, I realize why.

“You were asleep on the job.” I switch the weight of the weapon to my left hand and let it hang, barrel down.

“Frank?” A voice comes from a speaker hanging above the green door. I glance up, noticing the imager. I wave at it with my right hand. 

The man, the Frank in question, takes a step toward me. “Look here, NiCIe—” He cuts off when he sees my expression. “No offense, man, just…give me back the gun.”

“Frank!” The voice is loud and sharp enough this time to echo through the alley. “Get your ass to the comm!”

Frank gives me a grave look and backs away toward the door. Without taking his eyes from me, he reaches out, fumbles for several seconds, and finally manages to locate the comm panel next to the green door. “Uh, hi. Everything’s ok—”

“Like hell.”

“Well, uh, there’s a, a NiCIe out here—”

“I can see that. Goddamit, Frank. One job.” Frank glares at me reproachfully, and I shrug as I adjust the gun in both hands. “Bring him in.”

There’s a soft ping, and the bright green door swings open. Frank motions for me to follow him, stops just at the threshold. “Can I at least have my gun back?” 

“Let’s see how this goes.” 

Grumbling, he shuffles into the building. I follow him, ducking slightly to miss the lintel, and am plunged into sudden darkness. 

A hand grabs my left arm and grapples with the weapon as I am pulled through the gloom. I can make out darkened figures, and as my eyes adjust, I see a narrow hallway ahead with a long series of closed doors on either side, a soft glow pooling beneath them. Ceiling lights blink and buzz, casting eerie shadows across the walls and floor. Frank gives a final jerk and lets out a frustrated grunt when he fails to dislodge the weapon. 

“He has my gun, Raj,” he says.

“We know.” Another figure emerges from the gloom, a large human male, his face covered in a grizzly beard. He’s holding a weapon as well, leveling it steadily at my chest. “What you want, NiCIe?” 

I hold my arms out at my sides, the shotgun firmly in my grip. “Here to see Chou.”

“He’s wacked out, Raj. Just walked right up, like the place belongs to him.” 

“You wacked out, NiCIe?” Raj’s face glistens. He’s missing a front tooth.

“I don’t think so.” I nod to the gun in Raj’s beefy hands. “Why don’t we let Chou decide?”

Raj blinks, narrows his eyes. He lowers the gun slightly. “You’re different, that’s for sure.” He jerks his head toward the corridor. “Follow me. Don’t touch anything.”

“He has my gun, Raj.” Frank trots behind us as Raj escorts me down the corridor to a door at the far end.

“We know, Frank.” Raj clears his throat. “Stand there,” he says, indicating the wall across from the door. I back up as he puts his hand against a wall scanner. The door clicks open.

Sudden light tears through my eyes. 

Frank, or maybe it was Raj, shoves me into the blinding room. 

“Identify yourself!” 

I blink rapidly as a human female comes into focus, short, not much taller than a Dua child. Her right hand holds a stunstic, pointed straight up at my head. On her left thigh is a holstered electristic; her hand hovers over its stock expectantly.

“Who are you?” The woman’s grey hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she pushes her lips together in a small, thin line. She runs her eyes up and down the length of my body, and their implants flash briefly as they catch the light.

“My name is Caen.”

“And just what the hell are you doing here, Caen?”

“I’m looking for Lee Chou.” She narrows her eyes and presses her wrinkled lips together in a frown. “Word is Chou can get me to Buenos Aires.”

She takes more careful aim with the stunstic. “The maglev can get you to Buenos Aires. The tunnel can get you to Buenos Aires. You don’t need Lee Chou to get to Buenos Aires.”

“Not without attracting Authority attention.”

Her hand moves to the electristic. “Who sent you here?”

I take a deep breath. “Lenore.”

A wave of confusion moves over her brown-skinned face. “Lenore?”

“My mother.” I swallow down the lump that’s suddenly formed in the back of my throat. “She says Lee Chou is the best forger in SoAm.” The room behind the woman comes into focus now. It is bright, airy even. Not at all what I would expect in this desolate place, in this crumbling building. “Is he here?”

The two henchmen behind me chuckle. The corners of the woman’s mouth turn up slightly, but she doesn’t lower the weapon. “Ah, yes, the infamous smuggler Chou, responsible for millions of NiCIe children disappearing from their beds and forced into slave labor. That Lee Chou? Why would your mother send you to O Diabo?”

“I’m wondering the same thing myself.” I try to smile.

The woman regards me for a few seconds more over the stunstic’s barrel. Slowly, she lowers her arm. “How is your mother, Lenore?” 

“She’s dead.” I’m surprised to see shock and dismay pass over her face.

“So that’s why we haven’t heard from the Paysandú station,” Raj says quietly behind me. 

The woman shakes her head as she cuts him a glance. “You’re Lenore’s Earth child?”

 “I have a sister—” Then I realize what she’s just said. “Earth child?”

The woman closes the distance between us in a few steps. Her eye implants engage in soft flashes of light as she scans me up close. “Hm. Perhaps.” She steps back, holsters the stunstic on her right thigh. “It took my father years to develop his reputation for ruthless NiCIe hunting. A reputation that is supposed to keep nosy people from poking around here. Lee Chou is dead. I am now Lee Chou.” She waves at the two men. “I’ll take it from here.”

“He has my gun,” Frank says.

“So he does. You gonna take it from him?” 

Frank gives me a seething glance.

“He’s bigger than I am,” he says sullenly.

“Raj, take Frank out to the yard and show him how to do his job. Again. You can have your gun back,” she says, “when Raj says you can. Out.”

“Come on, kid,” Raj says, tugging at Frank’s arm. Frank casts one more angry look my way before he disappears into the corridor outside.

“I’d appreciate your putting that away,” Chou says, indicating the weapon I’m still gripping in my left hand. “I doubt you’d need it anyway, right?”

I sling the weapon over my shoulder. Turning to face Chou, I clear my throat. “So, can you get me to the coast, undetected?”

She narrows her eyes. “I offer my services for the right price, and to the right people.” 

“What’s your price?” 

“I don’t think you’re the right people.”

“What’s your price?”

She places her hands on her hips. “Six thousand credits.” 

“I’ll give you four.” 

“For four, I can get you within five miles of the coast. I trust you can swim.” 

 “My mother implied there was a debt owed her.” 

Chou reacts as if she’s been struck across the face. “There is,” she says slowly. “Why would you want to go to Buenos Aires? If you aren’t registered, you won’t be able to get work, or food, or shelter—”

“I need to get to the Vine.” 

Chou scoffs. “I can’t get you to the space elevator. It’s out of the question.” 

“But you know someone in Buenos Aires who can.” 

She frowns. “I haven’t spoken to that asshole in four years.” 

“But you do know the Captain.”

Captain my ass,” she mumbles. “You’re better swimming to the Vine. His isn’t the most reliable station, you know.” She sighs, then motions for me to follow her to a small circular table piled with flexscreens. The room is spacious and neat, with wallscreens covering the room floor to ceiling, projecting scenes of old Earth. An old NutriPrint model stands in a corner next to a modified Re-Claimer, obviously a knock-off from a now-defunct OnyxCorp competitor. Chou picks up a flexscreen. As it comes to life, she clears a space on the table, puts it down, and stretches it by the corners until it is about a meter square. 

Captain Abebe was here last time I checked.” There’s a trace of bitter sarcasm in her voice. She points to an area southeast of the city labeled Ensenada. “Here isn’t anywhere anymore…Ensenada, La Plata, the Canal…it’s all abandoned.” She pushes out with her fingers to zoom in.  “I can get you here, the mouth of the Canal, but I won’t go further. You’ll have to make your way to this location on foot.” She touches a square on the grid that features dilapidated warehouses and housing units next to the Arroyo del Saladero; the location glows a soft orange. She touches the corner of the flexscreen, and it snaps into its original size. She hands it to me, and I roll it into a small cylinder, fitting it neatly inside an inner pocket of my tattered jacket. “The Corporation is everywhere over there, even in the abandoned sections. There are bound to be drones and maybe even an old Authority model for good measure. If you get past them, you must deal with Abebe, who trusts absolutely no one. Especially me.”

“Should I mention you at all?”

“I’d like to see the look on his face when he hears my name. That would be worth losing 6000 credits alone.”

 

About the Author

R. T. Coleman

R. T. Coleman grew up in Little Rock, Arkansas, where she nurtured a
passion for reading and writing while nestled among blankets and pillows in
her bedroom closet. Her love of science fiction was born when she saw Star
Wars in the theater in 1977. Imagine her disappointment when she realized
she could never actually be Princess Leia.

She lives in Springfield, Arkansas, with her partner Joe on their 25-acre
farm, where she works as an instructional designer by day and a writer and
editor by night. Vagabonder is her debut novel.

 

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Beastly Tales Anthology Teaser Tuesday

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Paranormal Romance

Date to be Published: February 21, 2023

Publisher: Dragon Soul Press

 

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Monsters deserve love too…

From werewolves, vampires, and even Bigfoot, these beasts manage to find
love. Whether they are able to sink their claws into that love and keep it
is another story. When it comes down to it, don’t judge a book by its
cover. This anthology brings a mixture of what ifs and happily ever
afters.

Featuring stories from T.C. Mill, A.K. Moss, Toni Mobley, Barend
Nieuwstraten III, Ashley L. Hunt, Charles Kyffhausen, Lil Deville, Kelly
Piner, Jess Monica, and Karen Bayly.

Graphic sexual content is included within this anthology.

 

The Beasts of Hank’s Wood by Lil DeVille

Joe Schola III is the eighteen-year-old son of Joseph Schola Junior, a
fire-and-brimstone preaching Fundamentalist televangelist. While young Joe
is far less homophobic than his father, he is struggling to come to terms
with his own sexual orientation. Will Joe dare accept the invitation to
become part of a clan of shapeshifters, and will he accept the love being
offered to him by the handsome fox shifter Lovell Azarola?

 

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Excerpt from The Beasts of Hank’s Wood

 

Reverend Jed didn’t miss what was happening between me and her
gorgeous friend. Taking my hands in hers, she smiled.

“There’s nothing wrong with letting nature take its
course,” she advised. “Then again, you don’t want to dive into
deep waters too soon. I’ve known Lovell all his life. He’s not the casual
and fleeting kind.”

“I’m not either,” I reassured her. “The truth is,
I’ve never been in a relationship. Because I don’t know a thing about
letting someone know I’m interested in them or establishing if they’re
interested in me, I don’t want to make a mistake. Straight people have it
hard too, but I think it’s even harder when you’re not straight. If a
straight guy hits on a girl who’s not interested, he probably won’t get his
backside handed to him, unless she has a jealous boyfriend he doesn’t know
about.”

“The thing is, I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t seen what was
happening between you and Lovell. He definitely noticed you.”

“Um…Forest didn’t, you know, notice Vic, did he?
‘Cause Vic’s straight. Vic won’t kick his butt, but I wouldn’t
want Forest to waste his time on a straight guy.”

Reverend Jed burst out laughing.

“Forest is straight too. He simply sensed a kindred spirit in
Vic.”

“I guess my gay-dar is broken,” I said. “’Cause he
looked me up and down and I kind of thought he might be checking me
out.”

“He was checking to see if you were safe for his brother. The boys
are very protective of each other.”

“Well, I’m safe,” I reassured Reverend Jed. “But
maybe a fine guy like Lovell isn’t going to be too keen on an
inexperienced dude like me.”

“He’s keen,” Reverend Jed said. “It’s up to
you if you want to encourage his interest.”

 

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Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson: Ten Steps from Baker Street Reveal

 

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Mystery

Date Published: 03-01-2023

Publisher: Tekrighter, LLC

 

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Return to the streets and alleys of Victorian London, where the game is
afoot once again! The Great Detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and his
steadfast companion Dr. Watson are back for ten new cases, spanning the
length of the quintessential detective’s illustrious career. Beginning while
Holmes was still a green investigator in Montague Street, this collection
encompasses the 1880s and the 1890s, up to the dawn of the new
century.  Walk with Holmes as he puzzles over the problem of a drunken
teetotaler, celebrates an old English Christmas at the Red Lion, tracks down
the Camberwell poisoner, and experiences the horror in King Street. If
you’ve been pining for new traditional, canonical Sherlock Holmes tales, Ten
Steps from Baker Street is the collection you’ve been waiting for.

 

About the Author

Thomas A. Burns, Jr.

Thomas A. Burns, Jr. is the author of the Natalie McMasters Mysteries. He
was born and grew up in New Jersey, attended Xavier High School in
Manhattan, earned B.S degrees in Zoology and Microbiology at Michigan State
University and a M.S. in Microbiology at North Carolina State University. He
currently resides in Wendell, North Carolina with his wife and son, four
cats and a Cardigan Welsh Corgi. As a kid, Tom started reading mysteries
with the Hardy Boys, Ken Holt and Rick Brant, and graduated to the classic
stories by authors such as A. Conan Doyle, Dorothy Sayers, John Dickson
Carr, Erle Stanley Gardner and Rex Stout, to name a few. Tom has written
fiction as a hobby all of his life, starting with Man from U.N.C.L.E.
stories in marble-backed copybooks in grade school. He built a career as
technical, science and medical writer and editor for nearly thirty years in
industry and government. Now that he’s retired to become a full-time a
novelist, he’s excited to publish his own mystery series, as well as to
contribute stories about his second-most favorite detective to the MX Book
of New Sherlock Holmes Stories.

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