Tag Archives: Action & Adventure

The Keeper of the Book Virtual Book Tour

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Action Adventure

Date Published: November 13, 2023

  

In the year 2043, World Council Edict 1735B proclaimed that all of the
world religions were to be outlawed in the interest of public safety. Houses
of Worship were labeled centers of dissension and attending any underground
religious service was punishable by imprisonment and relocation. To possess
any religious artifact or Holy Book was a mandatory death sentence. Jenny
Keane is a Believer, a Christian and the proud owner of a Holy Bible given
to her by her Grandmother. Michael Keane, her husband, is a former Special
Forces Operative. He is not a believer in the holy teachings of any
religion. Michael gave up the warrior path to live a cherished, peaceful
life with his family. Jenny and the children, while attending an illegal
religious service are captured by sadistic One World troops and taken to a
reeducation camp. This sets Michael out on a one man rescue mission to bring
his family home and nothing short of death will stop him. Against impossible
odds he walks a path of revenge and destruction with no negotiation, no
rules of engagement and no mercy for his enemies. He is aided by the unseen
prayers of the faithful and years of experience in killing his foes.

 

The Keeper of the Book tablet

EXCERPT

Michael Keane dreams of his dead mother. She is making breakfast. Her slight frame is backlit by a buttery morning sun shining through the kitchen window. It makes her glow, other worldly. Like an angel. 

The rich scent of bacon frying wakes Michael. Then tittering peals of laughter from his three children and the lilting, sweet voice of his wife, Jenny. Jenny is singing an old church hymn. Wonderful Grace of Jesus. Mama loved that song. Jenny sang it at her funeral ten years ago in 2031. Ten years. Time is flying by. Michael rolls over and out of bed. He is happy. Happier than he’s been in all his 42 years. He stretches right, then left. Ohhhh man, I just ache. He grunts and groans a little bit, then shakes it off. They’re just little aches and pains that come every day. Every ache and pain is a little reminder of his ten years in the highly elite Homeland Security Department Special Forces Units. Those ten years got him a tiny pension, a chest full of medals and a body full of scars. He steps in front of the mirror and stares at his reflection for a moment. His pale green eyes hold the stare with himself as he scrutinizes the scars on his body. I’m fine with it. At least I still have most of my hair. He runs his fingers through his full head of light brownish, blondish hair. I chose it. Nobody made me do it. My reflection proves I am still here. Still alive. 

Michael had been wounded five times over those ten years with HSD. The worst of it came in the African Campaigns when the whole world went to war over a rare earth metal mine in Uganda. There was no FBI or CIA or State Department anymore and no separate branches of the military. They had all been rendered impotent by the World Council Edicts. By 2033, they had all been absorbed under each nation’s umbrella version of the Homeland Security Department. 

The rich smell of bacon frying makes Michael’s mouth water. As he reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand, Gypsy, his brindle mountain cur dog, bounds into the bedroom and launches onto his bed. He leans down to let her give him a few overly enthusiastic, sloppy kisses. 

“Good morning, Gypsy.” Michael winces and turns his face to the side. “Gypsy, your breath stinks. I mean, really stinks.” She tries to lick his face again. 

“You stink. You been eating deer guts and you’re dirty. Get off of the bed.” Michael shoos her away, then makes the bed. He smooths the bed covers and tucks the corners tightly. A legacy of time spent in the military. Satisfied with the crispness of the bed cover tucks, he pulls on his jeans and boots. On his way out of the room, he stops at the dresser and takes a tee shirt out of the top drawer. He pulls it over his head as he makes his way to the kitchen. The children abandon their card game of Go Fish when they see Michael. They rush up to surround him. Michael picks the youngest one, four-year-old Gabriel, up in his arms. 

He kisses him on the forehead, “How’s my boy doing today?” The girls, 11-year-old Bridget and 6-year-old Amber, pull on Michael’s legs. 

“Pick us up too!” Amber commands her dad. Michael obeys. 

He scoops the girls up and holds all three children in his arms. They hug him and laugh. Jenny turns from the counter then places a platter stacked high with blueberry pancakes next to a plate of crisp bacon on the kitchen table. Jenny is lovely, radiant. Her dark black hair is just beginning to show the first strands of gray. She hates it. Her mischievous, sparkling dark green eyes entranced Michael from the first moment he laid eyes on her fourteen years ago. The ancient Irish, Druidic blood flowing in Jenny’s veins fuels her passion for life, for family, for love. Michael finds her eternally enchanting.

About the Author

Ryland Harris

Ryland Harris is a father, a builder and a combat decorated Marine. He
resides in the Appalachian mountains of southwestern Virginia. He enjoys
long hikes in the mountains, designing and building houses and spending time
with his children. He shares his life with nine chickens, three goats and a
black mouth cur dog.

 

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The Keeper of the Book Blitz

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Action Adventure

Date Published: November 13, 2023

  

In the year 2043, World Council Edict 1735B proclaimed that all of the
world religions were to be outlawed in the interest of public safety. Houses
of Worship were labeled centers of dissension and attending any underground
religious service was punishable by imprisonment and relocation. To possess
any religious artifact or Holy Book was a mandatory death sentence. Jenny
Keane is a Believer, a Christian and the proud owner of a Holy Bible given
to her by her Grandmother. Michael Keane, her husband, is a former Special
Forces Operative. He is not a believer in the holy teachings of any
religion. Michael gave up the warrior path to live a cherished, peaceful
life with his family. Jenny and the children, while attending an illegal
religious service are captured by sadistic One World troops and taken to a
reeducation camp. This sets Michael out on a one man rescue mission to bring
his family home and nothing short of death will stop him. Against impossible
odds he walks a path of revenge and destruction with no negotiation, no
rules of engagement and no mercy for his enemies. He is aided by the unseen
prayers of the faithful and years of experience in killing his foes.

 

About the Author

Ryland Harris

Ryland Harris is a father, a builder and a combat decorated Marine. He
resides in the Appalachian mountains of southwestern Virginia. He enjoys
long hikes in the mountains, designing and building houses and spending time
with his children. He shares his life with nine chickens, three goats and a
black mouth cur dog.

 

Contact Link

Website 

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

 

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Deadlock Teaser Tuesday

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(Revenge and Zombies)

 

Sci Fi Romance, Suspense, Action & Adventure

Date Published: September 29. 2023

 

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Rory and Tessa have managed to work together to survive the island, but now
they have an even bigger task at hand. Together, they must find Bennett and
the missing zombie before the virus can take over the mainland.

Easier said than done. The mainland Tessa knew before is a different world
from the one that exists now. A mysterious plague taking over the poorer
population has people nervous, and Rory and Tessa will have their work cut
out for them. Will they be able to stop Tessa’s virus before
it’s too late?

Deadlock tablet

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Torri Heat

 

It was silent out on the water. The kind of silence that screamed in your
ears, demanding to be heard. The kind of quiet that raised the hairs on the
back of your neck and created trails of goose bumps along your arms. It
spoke of a storm brewing in the distance, of an imbalance in the
scales.

The last time it was this quiet was after my father died, when the laughter
had died off, when I had snuck out from under the table I was hiding beneath
and ran to cradle his body. Afterwards, I knew I had been screaming from the
soreness of my throat, and the way I gasped for air. But during those
moments, before the paramedics showed up and carried his body away, it was
silent. Completely and utterly silent. There was only the screaming quiet in
my ears, surrounding me in a way I thought I would never experience
again.

Until now, on the boat. Rory was at the wheel, frowning as he stared into
the grey skies. We hadn’t spoken since the rush to the boat, and that
had been in mostly short sentences.

“Untie the rope for me.”

“Hand me that oar.”

“Push off.”

And getting to the boat had been too loud as we snuck past the small hordes
of zombies that had spread out across the island. Luckily, since we had
arrived at the safe zone, everything had quieted down. The zombies that had
been at the door soon gave up and spread out, and we knew that it was now or
never to make our move. Joe had loaded us up packs filled with supplies and
food — whatever the safe house had to spare. We probably had enough to last
the two of us a week on the mainland, maybe two if we stretched our rations.
A week to find Bennett, the zombie, and make our mind up about what would
happen next. I wasn’t sure yet if we’d return to the island
together, or go our separate ways. Right now, our minds were on the next
steps, and the next steps alone. We needed to find Bennett and that zombie.
There was no other way around it. If he managed to release it into the wild,
the whole thing could be a complete disaster.

There was a reason I liked science. I liked reasons. Logic. I liked there
to be answers to my questions if I worked hard enough. Two plus two always
equalled four, and I had a plan in place for how I wanted to spread the
virus. Bennett releasing one random zombie into the wild was not how my plan
was going to go and could ruin a lot more than just my revenge. I needed to
stop him before that happened.

As for Bennett when we found him… well. Unfortunately in my line of
work, there were some things I needed to do, and this was one of them. But
Bennett was a liability, and I couldn’t afford to have him running
around any more than I could have that zombie running free. I’d take
care of him when and where we found him.

The skies were darkening, and the wind was picking up, bringing my silence
to an end. Reality was flooding in, and I still needed to figure out what
our plan of action was. I pointed to the grey beach in the distance.
“I think we should try there!” I called over to Rory, yelling to
be heard over the screaming wind.

He turned to look at me, the boat cutting sharply over a wave that splashed
us both with cool water. “What?”

I pointed again. “There! Try there!”

Rory nodded and turned the wheel in the direction of the small beach. It
wasn’t the largest dock Bennett could’ve gone to, but it was
definitely the closest and easiest, which if I was bringing a zombie on my
own to the mainland is what I would’ve gone for.

The wind blew through my hair, and I grabbed for the elastic wrapped around
my wrist. Twisting my hair into a tight braid, I watched Rory as he
controlled the boat easily, as if he had been doing this all his life
despite the increasingly choppy water. I wondered what was going through his
head at this moment. Did he regret coming with me? Or maybe this was just
his way of getting back to the mainland, and he’d dump my ass as soon
as we touched ground, maybe even sending the cops my way. Not like I needed
him, really. I was certain I’d be able to find Bennett without
Rory’s help. I had been finding my way in this world alone since I was
young, and nothing had changed now.

But it might be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off, since I no longer
had James. A real, live sounding board. I didn’t need him to have
pointless conversation with. I’d rather save my breath. But to see if
my ideas were on the right track or not? Yeah, that might be nice.

I’d have to wait and see what his plan was once we got the boat to
the mainland.

About the Author

Torri Heat has always loved control. Her mind was blown when she discovered
she could control entire worlds through story writing. Throw some steamy
romance in there, and it was pretty close to perfection. Torri loves dark
heroes who ride off into the sunset on their motorcycles, fierce heroines
who can fend for themselves, and a sprinkle of the paranormal to keep things
interesting. When she’s not creating alternate realities you can find her
managing her three ring circus of kids and animals.

Find all of Torri’s books and sign up for her newsletter at her
website, or follow her on social media. You can also leave reviews!

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook: @torriheatwrites

Authoron Instagram and TikTok: @torriheat

 

Publisher on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram: @changelingpress

 

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Taken by the Siren Teaser

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Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Action Adventure

Date Published: July 7, 2023

 

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Michael Blessing thought he had everything he ever wanted when he met his
wife. Then he found out the truth, and his world was shattered by a car
accident. Coming home to Eerie was supposed to be his time to heal his
broken heart.

The siren had other ideas.

Lia Darling never forgot the shy, handsome young man she’d known when they
were children. Seeing Michael again awakens a need within her she can’t
explain or deny, but she’s been hurt before. She doesn’t want another dead
end, and when she looks into his eyes, she sees forever.

Maybe this second chance is just what they need to heal, move forward and
find love… together.

Taken by the Siren tablet

 

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Megan Slayer

 

“Home,” Michael Blessing murmured as he drove past the city limit line into
Eerie. He hadn’t been back in so long. Seemed like the day he left was the
last day he thought about his hometown. Silly, really. Eerie wasn’t a bad
place. It was quaint. Like a storybook town. The buildings were whimsical,
full of gingerbread and swirls, plus glitter and bright paint. The streets
were clean and the sidewalks wide. The flowers blossomed brighter, and the
people seemed to welcome everyone back.

There wasn’t a stranger in Eerie — except humans. They were all strangers,
but he wasn’t a human. His Fae father had married a woman who knew
witchcraft. They’d been a good pairing, and Michael had the best childhood.
Everyone thought his mother was human, but he hadn’t cared. He was
loved.

His parents were still alive and still cared about him. He was their son,
and they’d always love him, but they had no idea the depths of loneliness he
felt. They didn’t understand the grief he dealt with on a daily basis.

The woman he loved was dead. The moment he’d seen Chloe, he knew he wanted
her for the rest of his life. She’d be the best partner and eventually would
make him a father.

Then she had, but she died.

He hadn’t been able to manage the grief, not even a year and a half later.
He needed somewhere to hide. Eerie wasn’t the place to hide. Most everyone
in town stood out. Witches, Elves, Faeries, gargoyles, shifters and every
other kind of paranormal creature was there.

But he had a cabin in the woods on the other side of town, with a pier on
the lake and plenty of space to be quiet, to hide and regroup. No one would
bother him. He could write and be alone with no one bugging him, making him
come out of himself or pleading with him to be social.

He didn’t have any social in him.

Not today. Not this week. Maybe not ever.

His magic had dried up, too.

Did he care? A little, but not as much as he should. He drove through town,
then onto the side road leading to the woods. The beauty of Eerie was that
everyone had a space. The lake, the village, the little cottages, the woods…
If a paranormal creature wanted a space, there was one. If he wanted to hide
at his cabin and write, then practice his magic, then he could.

No one would annoy him.

He pulled into the dirt path that led to his cabin. The second he wound
through the trees to his little house, he felt better. Like he
belonged.

But that was always the way he felt when he came here. His heart was in the
woods, among the trees and peace. Maybe he was always meant to be alone.
Chloe had seen the most in him — more than anyone — but she was gone, and
he had to pick up the pieces.

He pulled into the dirt patch next to the cabin and parked. As the engine
cooled, he debated what to do. He needed to put up the carport to protect
the Jeep — not from the falling branches, but the leaves, rain and debris.
He supposed he could use his magic to protect the vehicle, too. Probably
should do that. It’d be a reason to practice his magic and prevent too much
damage to his Jeep.

Despite needing to put the carport together, he left his vehicle and headed
into the cabin. The place would need a lot of cleaning up, but he could use
those tasks to procrastinate instead of writing.

He carried his bag into the cabin, then set about to put the tarp, PVC and
canvas carport up. If nothing else, the carport would hide his vehicle, and
maybe if anyone saw the lights on, they’d leave him alone.

He hated being so despondent and crabby, but he’d been hurt and had no idea
how to get over his loss.

An hour later, he managed to secure the Jeep in the carport and even
cleaned up the living room enough for living. He added a bit of magic to the
carport, adding extra strength to the canvas to protect his vehicle. He’d
murmured the words and checked to ensure the spell had gone correctly. Sure
enough, it had, and he grinned.

At least one thing had gone his way.

He headed back into the house, and his stomach grumbled. He should eat, but
there wasn’t anything in the fridge. Hell, the fridge hadn’t even been
turned on. He needed to make a run to the store, but also should set up the
Internet, too.

He cleaned the dust from the living room, then set about getting the
kitchen in order. He removed the sheets around the house to reveal the
furniture and, as he worked, he swore he heard music.

A familiar song. Sweet, too.

He paused, and his thoughts turned to a song he remembered from his
childhood. A girl he’d known had sung the song, but probably never where she
thought anyone could hear her.

He chuckled to himself. He hadn’t thought about that girl or the song in
ages. What was her name? She’d been a sweet young woman, with flame-red hair
and fiery eyes. She rarely spoke, but she’d filled out quickly and wore
revealing clothes. She grabbed attention wherever she went, but no one
really got to know her.

He knew her name. He’d lusted after her the entire time they were in
school.

Lia.

 

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since
2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and
paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been
nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best
BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on
various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well
as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football
is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the
Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Author on Instagram

 

Publisher on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram: @changelingpress

 

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Giant’s Garden Teaser Tuesday

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(Celtic Magic, Book 4)

 

Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Romance,
Suspense, Urban Fantasy

Date Published: June 16, 2023

 

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A grant to do doctorate work in a bleak corner of Northern Ireland is Penny
Gallagher’s last chance to find her wings and break free of her
oppressive industrialist boyfriend.

When she finds her time there has been engineered for her boyfriend’s
profit, it takes a voiceless giant of a man to help her discover her own
magic.

 

Giant's Garden paperback

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Siondalin O’Craig

 

Penny

The Giant’s Causeway

Sean Feeney took another long drag from his pocket flask. Heavy gold chains
around his wrist grated against the flask’s metal rim. Penny Gallagher
watched him sway unsteadily in his skinny designer jeans and black Converse
high tops.

He reached out and draped his bony arm around her shoulders. She
couldn’t tell whether it was to keep himself from falling over or an
awkward maneuver meant to be making a pass at her.

She hoped it was the latter. First off, they were standing at the top of a
cliff. Not just any cliff, but a bare, windswept cliff tumbled with black
hexagonal stone columns jutting out into the North Channel of the Irish Sea
between the north coast of Ireland and the west coast of Scotland. If Sean
dropped onto those lichen-pocked rocks it would mean a fatal mess involving
a lot of paperwork and long, dim conversations with uniformed authorities.
And if I fell… no, she told herself firmly, we’re not going
down that line of thinking right now.

Secondly, she hadn’t gotten laid since James Carbill threw her over
six months ago for some new interior designer he had fallen for. And to tell
the truth, she had not been laid decently for months before that.
James’s steel-blue eyes had started wandering elsewhere long before
that ugly day when he’d told her that she needed to move out of the
Beacon Hill apartment he had been keeping her in, and that both of her
positions — as his personal assistant, and as his sexual partner and dinner
party arm candy — were terminated effective immediately.

James had softened the blow a bit by pulling some strings to secure this
grant so she could finish her doctorate degree in psychology from
Boston’s Fauntel University, and that’s how she wound up
standing on top of a windy cliff, watching Sean’s long, shaggy blond
hair blow into his eyes, which were fixed vacantly on the horizon.

She reached up to her shoulder and twined the fingers of her right hand
with Sean’s, hoping to lower the odds that they’d both go off
the cliff. The smell of salt spray on stone mingled with alcohol fumes. She
reached for his flask with her left.

“Give me a hit of that,” she said, raising her voice over the
wind. “You can’t have all the fun yourself.”

He handed her the flask absent-mindedly, its cap dangling from a little
silver chain. She took a swig. Smoky, peaty whiskey seeped into her tongue
and the flesh of her throat, straight into her bloodstream. She would swear
it never even hit her stomach.

“All this,” Sean said, gesturing broadly with a wobbling sweep
of his arm. Penny braced her feet, but they did not topple over. “When
you write your… your… thing.”

“My thesis.”

“Your thee, your thing. On all this. You’ll make millions of
dollars. We’ll all make millions of dollars. Because everyone will
want it.”

Penny took another hit of the whiskey. It felt mellower this time, as if
she and the whiskey were getting acquainted. “No one ever made
millions of dollars on their psychology doctorate thesis,” she
said.

“Oh, but you will.” Sean turned around, his face close to hers,
and poked her hard in the chest with the point of his index finger.
“You will. I will. Everyone will. Because this,” he swept his
arm out again along the horizon, “this is the Giant’s Causeway.
You’ll write about why it makes people feel so good — you feel good,
right?”

Penny nodded skeptically. He didn’t wait for her response before
rambling on.

“Because it makes people feel so good that they will all want to live
here, and I’m selling my land to the American developer who will give
them all a place to live. And everyone else will too. Just as soon as you
are done.”

Penny smirked and shook her head. It’s true that her doctorate
proposal had talked about the intersection of landscape and psychology, and
the grant that James had helped her secure had sent her to this bleak,
forsaken, vertical drop-off to write about it. But in point of fact, she had
not yet started writing, and now that she was here, she could not for her
life figure out what to write about.

“Sean, you handsome devil,” she said. “It’s a pile
of rocks.” Basalt, she noted to herself, recalling one of the
guidebooks she’d read on the plane. Lava from a volcanic episode,
cooled slowly, formed hexagonal columns. Why do people find the myths more
interesting than the science?

 

 

About the Author

 Siondalin O’Craig writes romance with the slow burn of a peat fire on
an autumn night deep in the woodland hills. Sip a glass of Irish whiskey,
turn the page, and let the magic overtake you. Siondalin lives in the
mountains of New England where she walks under the trees celebrating the
wheel of the year, grows a luscious garden full of magical herbs, and plays
a wicked Irish fiddle. Follow her on Facebook and email her at
siondalinocraig@gmail.com to sign up for her newsletter.

Publisher on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @changelingpress

 

 

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