Tag Archives: Literary Fiction

Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner Blitz

 

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A Novel

Literary Fiction

 

Publisher: LaPuerta Books and Media

Awarded So Cal Publicists Best Literary Fiction, Best Indie 100, NYC Big Book Silver, NABE Pinnacle Best Literary Fiction, FAPA President’s Bronze Adult Fiction.

Intrigue on the white sands of the Indian Ocean.

Aldo Barbieri, a slick Italian tour operator, convinces Harry to join a group of adventuresome “voluntourists.” In a resort town on the Indian Ocean, Harry doesn’t find the promised excitement with local ladies. But in the supermarket he meets Esther Mwemba, a demure widow who works as a bookkeeper. The attraction is strong and mutual, but Harry gets worried when he finds out that Esther and Aldo have a history. They introduce him to Victor Skebelsky, rumored to be the meanest man in town. Skebelsky has a plan to convert his grand colonial home and residential compound into a rehab center – as a tax dodge. The scheme calls for Harry to head up the charity. He could live like a wealthy diplomat and it won’t cost him a shilling! Harry has to come to terms with questions at the heart of his character: Is corruption a fact of life everywhere? Is all love transactional? Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner is an emotional story of expat intrigue in Africa, reminiscent of The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene and The Constant Gardener by John le Carré.

Praise for Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner:

“Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner is a captivating, witty read that explores the sociopolitical climate in Kenya in an honest way that is both entertaining and thought-provoking. This is a clear and compelling outlook that realistically paints Kenya while exploring glaring issues that are a bane to the country. When Harry decides to stop being a bystander who lets other people decide his fate, it’s noteworthy. This can be equated to Kenyans finally deciding to take responsibility rather than just going with the flow, waiting for decisions that affect their lives to be made for them. And it can be done without selling one’s soul in the process and leave a legacy and a better country worthy of its name.” – Desmond Boi, Editorial Writer, The Standard and Citizen TV, Nairobi

“Jones writes with clarity and precision, offering a convincing study of a man taking risks and exploring new relationships with an almost childlike view on the world he’s thrown into. In relatable fashion, Harry soon gets in over his head for the attention of a woman or the thrill of the deal. Esther sums up his character best: “Mister go-along. The fellow who’s happy to ride in the back and look out the window.” Readers looking for engaging contemporary fiction with an emotionally available adult male lead–“Grand passion is fleeting, also blinding,” Harry notes — will quickly be pulled into Harry’s fast-paced adventure, a memorable (literal) vacation read.” – BookLife Reviews

“I lived in East Africa for five months. In Kenya this included Nairobi and a village on the banks of Lake Victoria. Reading this novel brought back vivid, exhilarating memories. It so accurately captures the people and the social milieu of this fascinating part of the world, no praise would be sufficient. The story is so starkly real, at times I thought I was Harry! Yes, it’s an adventure. It’s an education. It’s a literary delight!” – John Rachel, author of Live from Japan! and nine novels.

“Gerald Everett Jones’s experience-based tale of Kenya’s growth in a rapidly changing world is done with care and affection. Wonderfully entertaining, decorated with interesting facts, this tale acknowledges the hopes of past and present, along with warmth for the future. Virtual tourism which will make you long to share the experience yourself.” – Edgar Scott, author of 418: I Am a Teapot

“I was concerned that working halfway across the world, Mr. Jones’s fiction might take a hit, but from the shores of Kenya to the stores of the Santa Monica Promenade Jones does not miss a step. All is well. Buy the book.” – Morrie Ruvinsky, author of Meeting God or Something Like It and The Heart and Other Strangers

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Excerpt

 

Harry Gardner, who thought his given name “Harrison” much too formal, did not consider himself an immoral man. His shrink, if he still had one, would say he was on a therapeutic quest. The more generous of his peers in the golf-club locker room would say he was taking a much-deserved breather. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that his intention in going to East Africa was to engage in illicit activities, although he had only a vague idea of what those activities might involve.

~~~

As he sat at the bar in the Tiki Lounge in Diani Beach, just a short walk from the white sand, Harry wondered whether he’d been betrayed. Aldo was supposed to meet him here, and the fellow was more than an hour overdue. Granted that appointments in Kenya are more good intentions than hard deadlines, Aldo’s client expected to get what he’d paid for. The trip package had been prepaid, as was customary, and so far all the bookings had been solid and the accommodations sumptuous. Harry doubted whether Aldo had absconded with any funds. But this was wary Harry’s first venture offshore in a lifetime, and part of the deal was supposed to be Aldo’s companionship and watchful guidance.

Harry would later learn that Aldo was in Mombasa meeting with an attorney, David Odiengo. Since Esther was in Mombasa as well, did they meet? Were they somehow working together? On what? And for whom? These became questions that nagged at him.

About the Author

Gerald Everett Jones

Gerald Everett Jones obtained his Bachelor of Arts with Honors from the College of Letters, Wesleyan University. He is the author of ten novels, most recently the mystery-thriller series “Preacher Finds a Corpse” and “Preacher Fakes a Miracle,” as well as the psychological literary novel “Clifford’s Spiral.” He wrote a series of three satiric Rollo Hemphill misadventures, the adult melodrama “Christmas Karma,” the crime story “Choke Hold,” the father-son comedy “Mr. Ballpoint,” and the historical thriller “Bonfire of the Vanderbilts.” He coauthored the nonfiction memoir “The Light in His Soul: Lessons from My Brother’s Schizophrenia.” He has also written more than 25 nonfiction books on business and technical subjects and is an award-winning screenwriter. He is a member of the Writers Guild of America, Women’s National Book Association, Dramatists Guild, and the Independent Writers of Southern California. His business title “How to Lie with Charts” has become something of a classic on the subject of presentation design.

He is the host of the GetPublished! Radio show.

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Shared Sorrows Blitz

 

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Literary Fiction

 

Release Date: December 8, 2021

Publisher: ‎BookBaby

Frank DioGuardia, a New Jersey college professor always feared the onset of autumn.

A chill in the air and rainy skies took him back to the day his father died decades ago. It was a memory that each year caused Frank to start counting the days until he reached the milestone of having spent more time on earth than his dad.

This year would be no different, bringing about the realization that after thirty years of marriage and three children he had been inhabiting the earth for all the wrong reasons.

This realization came to Frank after he committed a violent act on a stranger during New York’s Columbus Day parade. It also brought into his life Dr. Laurie McDevitt, the emergency room physician who had treated his injuries after the incident. When she revealed that her father died on the same night as his those many years before, Frank had a comrade in grief.

Will their shared sorrows be enough to survive the media frenzy that follows?

Shared Sorrows — a story of love and redemption.

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About the Author

Vincent Panettiere

Vincent Panettiere is the author of five other books.

In addition to Shared Sorrows, he has written the award-winning and critically-acclaimed These Thy Gifts; the Mike Hegan mysteries A Woman to Blame and The Scopas Factor as well as The Music of Women – an Erotic Stream of Unconsciousness. His only nonfiction work is The Internet Financing Illusion, a cautionary tale about the dark side of the internet.

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Tales from the Liminal Virtual Book Tour

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Literary Fiction

 

Date Published: 10-12-2021

Publisher: Deuxmers Publishing

In this collection of fifteen curious and delightful short stories by S. K. Kruse, you never know who you’re going to meet or where you’re going to end up. You can be certain, however, that whether you follow Schrödinger’s cat into the zeroth dimension, or hang out with Bigfoot on a public beach, or have drinks with a woman who’s seen Gertrude Stein in the condensation on her window, you’ll find yourself smack dab in the middle of some befuddling predicament of existence.

Using humor and horror, satire and allegory, fabulism and realism, Tales From the Liminal takes you for an extraordinary ride, submerging you in spaces where anything is possible, especially transformation.

 

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EXCERPT

Tales From the Liminal by S.K. Kruse

BIGFOOT’S GOT A LOVER

He was hairy. And tall. A sasquatch down from the mountain. His tangled mass of hair indistinguishable from his beard. Tufts of thick, brown fur sprouted from his back and shoulders and covered his torso and appendages like wall-to-wall carpeting. Sprawled out on the sand, someone might mistake him for a rug and wipe their feet on him. But people kept their distance. He looked harmless enough, sitting next to me in his SpongeBob swim trunks and listening to Barry Manilow on an old boombox, while he slurped on a raspberry popsicle. When he finished it, he rose from his faded paisley beach towel, did a few lunges and burpees, and then bounded into the ocean with loping strides, leaving a trail of footprints for sunbathers to photograph and submit to National Geographic.

Everybody knows Bumbles bounce, but do Bigfoots float? We all paused what we were doing and squinted out into the sparkling waves, secretly rooting for him to make it or conflictedly hoping he would drown. After a nail-biting minute in which his brown coat bobbed and ducked indeterminately in the waves, his shaggy arm shot into the air, followed by the other, and with perfect backstrokes they hauled him down the shoreline, impervious to the waves.

Next to me, Barry finished singing “Mandy” and started in on “Copacabana.” A greatest hits cassette. Some people look down on such compilations, but I appreciated its efficiency. It made me want to get up and dance. And sing. But my skin hadn’t seen the sun in six months so my cellulite lacked the disguise of a good tan, and I wasn’t as free as the hirsute hominid who now hauled himself through the water in the opposite direction with a flawless breaststroke. I wondered how he’d gotten that way. So free. If it was something he’d had to work at or something forced on him by his … condition. Maybe it had come to him in a flash. Maybe one day he’d been in a coffee shop politely sipping an iced chai latte, hoping his boat shoes and gelled hair and Tommy Hilfiger polo would be enough to fit in with everybody else when management came and asked him once again to please leave the premises, and Bigfoot decided once and for all he’d had enough.

The song was half over. The sasquatch came back onshore and shook the water from his fur. Mothers pulled their children from half-finished sandcastles. Fathers reeled in their fishing lines. People hid the phones that had been mounted on the ends of their arms, but Bigfoot stayed at the shoreline and commenced a series of graceful Tai Chi moves. The phones came back out. Dong Hai Chuan Serves the Tea. I knew this one. I did it myself but in my bedroom with the door closed.

Everybody knows humans worry about what other humans think of them, but do Bigfoots care? Surely, we were all pondering that question as we squinted at his matted fur glistening in the sun, some of us hoping against hope he wasn’t just an elaborate prank staged by an aspiring YouTuber, others of us bristling with indignation that a member of any sentient species would engage in such outrageous conduct on a public beach.

Meanwhile, it was thirty years later at the Copa. Poor Lola was still wearing the same damn dress she had on the day that bastard Rico shot Tony, and I was still sitting on my towel, looking wistfully around the beach, hoping someone would get up and start the dancing. Surely everyone wanted to. And while we were at it, break out singing that final, impassioned chorus about that fabulous, fated nightclub where the whole nasty business went down. I could start it. I could stand up and start singing. Reach my hand out to the person next to me. And that person could reach their hand out to the person next to them, and pretty soon the whole entire beach would be singing and dancing, and I could be the one to start it.

I looked at Bigfoot, currently engrossed in a fluid and focused Repulse the Monkey. I could feel my toes tingling. My body on the verge of standing up. Lola had lost her mind and so had I! I got to my knees. Stood up on my towel. Opened my mouth to start singing the last refrain, when a group of teenage boys came running up behind Bigfoot, giant slushies in hand. A collective gasp went through the crowd. I started to say something but hesitated, and then it was too late because the slushies flew, and syrup ran thick like glue down the back of the furry sasquatch, and we all could see as plain as day just who got who.

“Get a wax!” one of the boys hollered, and then they all ran off laughing. Next to me, Barry was warning us not to fall in love, but there were more immediate dangers in life like setting yourself up for humiliation. On a public beach. In front of hundreds of people. I sat back down on my towel. Bigfoot stood motionless for a bit, then trudged back into the water to wash off the slushy. When he finished, he came back to his towel, dripping and downcast. He shook his fur, showering me with droplets of saltwater. I tried to think of something nice to say, but everything sounded stupid when I imagined it coming out of my mouth.

“Copacabana” was over. The tape whirred for a few seconds before Barry started in on “It’s a Miracle.” I knew this one, too. You usually did with a greatest hits tape. That was the point. I glanced sideways at the sasquatch drying off and packing up his stuff. Then I looked around the beach where people were pretending to get back to their own business but were really just watching him surreptitiously through their sunglasses. I could hardly believe it when I heard myself speak.

“Are you any good at Silk Reeling?” I asked.

Bigfoot finished rolling up his bag of cheese puffs and looked at me. “Well,” he replied, rather humbly I thought and with a little less bass than expected, “it’s foundational to Tai Chi, so … yeah.”

“Well,” I continued, clearing my throat and glancing around one more time in hopes that at least a few people had gotten bored and gone back to their own business, but everyone still seemed pretty much riveted, “I ask because I have some trouble with it. I’ve been watching online videos for pointers, but it just never seems to flow.”

“Well, I could show you but …” Bigfoot motioned to the crowd, “you might get doused in slushy.”

“I don’t care,” I replied unconvincingly.

“Well … if you want to …” Bigfoot said and then extended his hairy hand to me. I felt my face flush. Could feel everybody’s eyes on me. But I reached up and took hold of his hand.

Bigfoot pulled me to my feet, then took me through the move step-by-step. Everyone’s phones reappeared, mounted on the ends of their arms. Barry crooned about spectacles and miracles as the teenage boys returned and stood cross-armed off to the side. I could hear their snickers. Feel my face burn anew. Oblivious or ignoring of it all—I still do not know which—Bigfoot continued to advise me with articulate patience about the position of my hips and the stiffness of my arms.

“Bigfoot’s got a lover!” one of the boys taunted, but I just kept reeling the silk. Bigfoot wasn’t my lover. That was ridiculous. But, I thought, as our arms moved in synchronicity before hundreds of mocking, documenting cameras, he was very possibly my savior.

About the Author

Sandra Kaye Kruse

Sandra Kaye Kruse grew up in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, where she attended Catholic school for twelve years. She then moved to Madison to earn a degree in English from the University of Wisconsin and to launch her writing career. Her writing has appeared in The Onion and Reed Magazine, has been longlisted for the John Steinbeck Award for Fiction, and has won multiple awards in the National League of American Pen Women’s “Soul-Making Keats Literary Competition.” You can find more of her writing at: www.skkruse.com

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Tales from the Liminal Blitz

 

Tales from the Liminal cover

 

Literary Fiction

 

Date Published: 10-12-2021

Publisher: Deuxmers Publishing

In this collection of fifteen curious and delightful short stories by S. K. Kruse, you never know who you’re going to meet or where you’re going to end up. You can be certain, however, that whether you follow Schrödinger’s cat into the zeroth dimension, or hang out with Bigfoot on a public beach, or have drinks with a woman who’s seen Gertrude Stein in the condensation on her window, you’ll find yourself smack dab in the middle of some befuddling predicament of existence.

Using humor and horror, satire and allegory, fabulism and realism, Tales From the Liminal takes you for an extraordinary ride, submerging you in spaces where anything is possible, especially transformation.

About the Author

Sandra Kaye Kruse

Sandra Kaye Kruse grew up in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, where she attended Catholic school for twelve years. She then moved to Madison to earn a degree in English from the University of Wisconsin and to launch her writing career. Her writing has appeared in The Onion and Reed Magazine, has been longlisted for the John Steinbeck Award for Fiction, and has won multiple awards in the National League of American Pen Women’s “Soul-Making Keats Literary Competition.” You can find more of her writing at: www.skkruse.com

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Defiance and Redemption Blitz

 

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Literary Fiction

 

Publisher: Clara Publishing/ Spiro Books

Life As a Roller Coaster

Eva and Victoria’s grandfather tells them that life is like a roller coaster ride.

Sometimes things are great and you feel the joy of the heights and sometimes you face the overwhelming down turns. Hold on tight because everything passes!

This will be a hard lesson for the young women to learn for they will be challenged by love, passion, scandal, loss of fortune, and their hard-earned freedom.

About the Author

Maria J. Andrade

Maria J. Andrade was born in Ecuador, South America, and raised in New York and California. She has a bachelor of arts degree in English literature and a master’s degree in Counseling Psychology. As a licensed therapist and writer, Maria has been diving into other people’s minds and her own, through dreams, poetry, and books for over three decades. She traveled with the Four Winds Society where she studied and was initiated into Andean shamanism in 1990.

Before Maria retired as a therapist, she specialized in women’s issues and founded the Wise Women’s Circle a ritualistic and transpersonal study group that continues today. The women support each other through life’s challenges and in the growth of mind, body, and spirit.

Maria Andrade’s books for children and adults is found in a variety of genres. This is an unforgettable first novel that reflects her imagination and creative storytelling.

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