Book Feature & Giveaway: SEED OF TAMARIS by Penni Louise

SEED OF TAMARIS
Penni Louise
Fantasy

In a treacherous world, is it safe to be powerful?

A Brother with a tainted past. A Lord seeking a legacy for his daughters. A Queen in exhile from her ancestral home. For decades, the Lords and Ladies in the land of Tamaris have known peace among their Houses, unlike the Outlanders who face death everyday outside the kingdom’s borders. But when the King, consumed by power, turns against the beloved Queen, she is forced into hiding, and plots brew among the Houses. The threads of peace begin to unravel. From a Lord’s daughters facing the subordinations of womanhood, to the outcast who flees to The Coven of Sacred Sisters for redemption, to the boy in the mines who prefers darkness and worms to the Lightlands, the lives of the people of Tamaris are unknowingly tied to their Queen’s fate. Only the Witch knows to what end their loyalty leads them. They must navigate political ambitions, social expectations, the complexities of relationship, and traitor’s plots to survive in the midst of the building war. But many will forget that the worst peril often comes from those closest to home. SEED OF TAMARIS is an epic fantasy brimming with magik, desire, and wickedness. It is Book One of the Archipelago Series, and Penni Louise’s debut novel.

Amazon → https://amzn.to/30JffUJ

 Barnes & Noble → https://bit.ly/30JH1Az

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Having tired Timber out in the surf, throwing the stick till her arm hurt, the two weary friends rested on a smooth rock, basking in the afternoon sun.
 “I suppose they’ll be looking for us to get dressed and into the carriage,” Solar
sighed to Timber.
In the distance, the fishing boats were beginning to come into view on the
horizon, gulls circling and diving behind them, returning to their home harbor before the
night fell. She had asked Cook once why the boats did not stay out overnight. They seemed as big as castles, and as sturdy. Cook had shaken her head.
“They used to, little one, but not anymore. It’s dangerous to be so…exposed at
night nowadays. That’s why we tuck away in houses at night; there’s no good to be found out in the open in the dark.”
Cook refused to say why but Solar knew she had to be right.
Solar thought of her sister, always ill, and indoors. She felt badly for her, never
getting any fresh air or sunshine. She shook off the thought of stuffy rooms and stuffy carriages and stretched her legs, examining them in the sunlight.
“Look, Timber, I am getting fur like you!”
How splendid, she thought, reclining in the warm sun, and drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, Solar woke with a pain in her back, disoriented. She was
immediately overwhelmed by the gloom; it seemed to be trying to suffocate her in shadow. She could hear and feel that the tide was coming in; the water was now splashing against the rocks, the spray hitting her feet and legs.
How long have I been asleep? She peered into the dusk and saw the stars starting to emerge overhead. A long time, then.
Something was missing. The spell of the stars suddenly broken, she realized
Timber was not beside her.
“TIMBER!” she called.
She thought she heard an answering woof but couldn’t be sure over the crashing
sound of the waves.
She stood gingerly, twisting to release her muscles, and called again, “Timber!”
She was certain she heard something this time, and slowly, feeling her way, began to climb the rocks.
She called again when she reached the top but instead of the woof she was hoping for, she heard men’s voices, coming from the direction of home. A Border Patrol! If she revealed herself, she would end up in incredible trouble and worse, the men certainly would not come back to search for Timber. He could be hurt, and was surely lost.
What would make him run away without waking me?
Maybe the fear of the dark was a real concern. More scared than ever, she worried herself with thoughts of Timber being injured, stolen, or devoured by an unknown beast.
The voices were coming closer.
Despite the threat of being truly lost, or being eaten herself, Solar ran away from the voices and into the darkness to find her beloved dog.

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As an eager reader from an early age, much of Penni’s life was shaped by Bilbo’s exclamation that “he was going on an adventure!” Originally from Australia, Penni is now an avid storyteller and traveler (both physical and astral), currently located in Denver, Colorado. With a deep love of all things mystical, she also explores the energetic realm through her clairvoyance and channeling abilities.

Website: http://www.pennilouise.com

Twitter Address: http://www.twitter.com/Penni_Louise

Facebook Address: www.facebook.com/PenniLouise.Author

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GIVEAWAY!

Penni Louise is giving away 2  Kindle copies and 1 paperback copy of SEED OF TAMARIS!

Terms & Conditions:

• By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
• Three winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive either a Kindle or paperback copy
• This giveaway ends midnight September 30.
• Winner will be contacted via email on October 1.
• Winner has 48 hours to reply.

Good luck everyone!

ENTER TO WIN!

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Feature: The Ancestor by Lee Matthew Goldberg

THE ANCESTOR
Lee Matthew Goldberg
Thriller / Mystery

A man wakes up in present-day Alaskan wilderness with no idea who he is, nothing on him save an empty journal with the date 1898 and a mirror. He sees another man hunting nearby, astounded that they look exactly alike. After following this other man home, he witnesses a wife and child that brings forth a rush of memories of his own wife and child, except he’s certain they do not exist in modern times—but from his life in the late 1800s. After recalling his name is Wyatt, he worms his way into his doppelganger Travis Barlow’s life. Memories become unearthed the more time he spends, making him believe that he’d been frozen after coming to Alaska during the Gold Rush and that Travis is his great-great grandson. Wyatt is certain gold still exists in the area and finding it with Travis will ingratiate himself to the family, especially with Travis’s wife Callie, once Wyatt falls in love. This turns into a dangerous obsession affecting the Barlows and everyone in their small town, since Wyatt can’t be tamed until he also discovers the meaning of why he was able to be preserved on ice for over a century.

A meditation on love lost and unfulfilled dreams, The Ancestor is a thrilling page-turner in present day Alaska and a historical adventure about the perilous Gold Rush expeditions where prospectors left behind their lives for the promise of hope and a better future. The question remains whether it was all worth the sacrifice….

Praise for THE ANCESTOR:

“Lee Matthew Goldberg is an animal—there is no other way to say it. His prose is heavyweight ambitious, as visceral as a sweaty-toothed dog at your throat. He evokes Robert Louis Stevenson as much as he does a modern thriller novelist. And I’ll be honest: I expected a crime novel, but I got a spell-binding epic, an epistolary revelation, a tale as rich as a paying gold mine. The Ancestor is more than a novel. It’s an ode to the rich tradition of adventure storytelling…seasoned with ample spice of love and violence and greed.” —Matt Phillips, author of Countdown and Know Me from Smoke

“In The Ancestor, Lee Matthew Goldberg masterfully weaves together a story involving family and violence set against the backdrop of an unforgiving Alaska of both past and present.” —Andrew Davie, author of Pavement and Ouroboros

“From the icy opening battle of man vs. wolf, you feel yourself in the hands of a master storyteller and that feeling never lets up.” —SJ Rozan, bestselling author of Paper Son

“This thrilling novel is rich in descriptions of the vast, snowy, and deadly wilderness of Alaska; it ably captures the type of person who chases gold.” —Foreword Reviews

“A story that blends the familiar and the supernatural in a manner that calls Stephen King’s work to mind. That said, Goldberg’s book possesses a flavor all its own—a distinctive mélange of the sincere and the strange.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Beautifully written, and capturing the unforgiving grit of Gold Rush Alaska, Lee Matthew Goldberg’s The Ancestor is a thrilling page-turner with an ache in its heart. I’m a huge fan.” —Roz Nay, author of Hurry Home and Our Little Secret

“A suspenseful historical thriller.” —Indie Reader

“One of the year’s best thrillers. Blake Crouch fans will love Goldberg’s Alaskan opus.” —BestThrillers

Amazon → https://amzn.to/31Oays9

Down and Out Books → https://downandoutbooks.com/bookstore/goldberg-ancestor/

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1

       One eye open, the other frozen shut. He knows what an eye is, but that other “I” remains a mystery. Mind scooped out and left in ice. Words are hunted, slowly return. Blue sky, that’s what he sees. The sun twinkling like a diamond. Tundra, there’s another recalled word. Packed snow on all sides as if the world succumbed to white. The air a powerful whistle. A breeze blows, not a friend but a penance. It passes right through and chills to the core, this enemy wind. Limbs atrophied, no idea when they last moved. Boil of a sun thaws and prickles. Tiny spiders swinging from leg hairs, biting into flesh. He cries out but there is no sound. For it feels like he hasn’t spoken in centuries.
            Back of throat tastes of metal. Blood trapped in phlegm. A cough sends a splatter of red against the stark land, a streak in the form of a smile. When was the last time he ate? His stomach growls in agony, a good sign. Organs working, or at least attempting to work. His one eye scans to the left and the right, no sign of anyone, not even an animal. No chance for a savior or sustenance.
            He gums his jaw, the first inkling of movement. Aware of his scraggily beard coated in frost. Crystals spiral from his chin, collect in his lap. Now he sees his hands, luckily in gloves except they are a thin brown leather, rather useless. Bones crack as he maneuvers to remove the gloves. Fingers tremble once hit with fresh air and numbness subsides. Massages his legs, gets the blood flowing, an injection of life. The spiders accelerate and then relent, toes wiggle, and he sits up. Around his neck rests a notebook and a fountain pen, the tip crusted in flakes. He feels an object in a front pocket and pulls out a silver compact mirror, the back embroidered with floral patterns, ladylike. This is not my mirror, he decides, but then has a more important realization. Who am I? With trembling hands, he brings the mirror up to his face for a glance.
            The reflection of a stranger. All beard save for some features that emerge. A bulbous but authoritative nose, green eye flecked with gold, a mane of dark hair cascading to his shoulders. Handsome in a grizzled way. Shades of a bear in the roundness of his cheeks and a wolf in his stare.
            “I am…,” his lips try to say, but there is no answer. Often one can wake from a dream and the dream seems real for a moment, but a sense of self never vanishes. Whoever he was has been long gone, unlikely to return anytime soon. At least while he remains freezing in the wilderness.
            I must make it out of here.
            It’s relieving that he thinks of himself as an “I”. Whoever he is, he is someone. A mother birthed and fed him from her breast. A father taught him.…taught him what exactly? Survival skills? How to hunt? If he had a father worth his while, he’d know how to do this.
            And then, a caterwauling from the depths of his soul, a fawn-in-distress call that plants a trap for curious predators. He knows this sound well, meaning he’s lured prey before. His daddy schooled him like a good man should.      
            The waiting game. Another call erupts, a coyote’s howl this time. He can recognize the difference. Then it comes to him that he needs to know what to do should an animal appear. He pats down his pockets, no weapon but his fists. And then, the clinking of sharp nails against the ice sheet. A majestic wolf, eyes like the sky, shimmering coat the color of clouds. Its charcoal nose twitches; the blood he hacked up in plain sight. He and the wolf lock into a dueling stare, neither wanting to be the first to flinch. A vision of death with baring teeth, or the start of his new life if victorious. The wolf doesn’t give him a chance to contemplate, lunging with a mouth full of saliva. He catches it in a brutal embrace and becomes knocked off his heels, slamming his back against the hard ground. They skitter down a slick snowcap, snapping at one another like angry lovers. The wolf is relentless, a worthy opponent, a test of wills. He gets the beast in a headlock, trying to crack its neck, but the wolf is too slippery. Breath fumes from other kills circle into his nostrils—this wolf has never lost a battle before. Blood splashes, no clue which of them has been wounded. They spin in the snow like a tornado. He makes a fist, jams it in the wolf’s mouth. Teeth marks scrape against his knuckles as he rams his fist farther down the wolf’s throat. The wolf heaves, chokes, attempting to chew off his hand but its strategy is futile. It has only come across other animals, never a human mind that can think steps ahead.
            Now he attempts a headlock again with his left arm, squeezing off circulation. The wolf lets out a whimper that reverberates through his wrist. They lock into a dueling stare again, except this time he does not see the many kills of the wolf through its gaze. He visualizes its sadness, its inevitable end. And then, the sound of a heavy branch snapping, the wolf’s neck broken, his blood-soaked fist removed from the back of its throat. Its dead tongue lolling out of its mouth against the icy bed. He pets its beautiful coat, this formidable foe, now a present wrapped with a bow. Delectable to quench his all-consuming hunger.
He needs the clearest block of ice he can find. Using the wolf’s teeth to carve a fine translucent round piece, he creates a magnifying glass. He rubs the dirt away and keeps rubbing until enough moisture flecks off. There’s a bed of whittled grass at the slope he and wolf ended up in, and he holds the ice over the dry grass, propping it against two logs until a brilliant rainbow prism shoots through and ignites a fire. He rips off all the breakable branches he can locate to stoke the flames. While it continues to spread, he procures a rock to blunt out the wolf’s teeth, then uses them for the painstaking task of skinning the fur. He does it carefully so a semblance of a coat remains, which he dips into a nearby brook to wash away any lingering blood and sinew. The sun has mostly dipped behind the mountains and he wears the wolf’s coat to mask the chill, then roasts its carcass over the roaring fire, breaking off legs and gnawing while the true flesh still cooks.
            The meat is a godsend to his empty stomach and also an immediate poison that his body rejects by throwing up. But he sucks on some ice and the queasiness diminishes. By the time it’s fully cooked, darkness reigns and he feels more like a shell than anyone has before. Except with each chew, this lessens and soon he becomes human again. But the loneliness isn’t as easy to fight off. There are souls that feel lonely, he assumes, but at least they have themselves for company. They can rely on memories to help them through cold nights. He searches his mind for a wisp of the past, any nugget, wading through a never-ending sea. The horizon seemingly attainable, but with every stroke just as far away. He’d cry but the tears are frozen in his ducts, and his one eye still sealed shut.
            When enough of the wolf has been eaten so his belly distends like a newly pregnant woman, he feeds the fire with more broken limbs and curls up to its warmth, his only confident in this harsh wilderness, possibly his only companion forever—a lifetime of attempting to be caressed by flames and nothing more. He wraps himself tightly in the wolf’s fur, hoping that when he wakes again he’ll know who he is. The nightmare vanished along with the sun rising like a bride’s pretty little hand on his grizzled cheek.

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Lee Matthew Goldberg is the author of the novels THE DESIRE CARD, THE MENTOR, and SLOW DOWN. He has been published in multiple languages and nominated for the 2018 Prix du Polar. The second book in the Desire Card series, PREY NO MORE, is forthcoming, along with his Alaskan Gold Rush novel THE ANCESTOR. He is the editor-in-chief and co-founder of Fringe, dedicated to publishing fiction that’s outside-of-the-box. His pilots and screenplays have been finalists in Script Pipeline, Book Pipeline, Stage 32, We Screenplay, the New York Screenplay, Screencraft, and the Hollywood Screenplay contests. After graduating with an MFA from the New School, his writing has also appeared in the anthology DIRTY BOULEVARD, The Millions, Cagibi, The Montreal Review, The Adirondack Review, The New Plains Review, Underwood Press, Monologging and others. He is the co-curator of The Guerrilla Lit Reading Series and lives in New York City. Follow him at leematthewgoldberg.com

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

Website: http://www.leematthewgoldberg.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/LeeMatthewG
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/leemgol
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53472461-the-ancestor

James S. Kelly's I DIDN'T FORGET BLOG TOUR

I DIDN'T FORGET
James S. Kelly
Mystery

The double murder of two long time friends has caused hysteria in the small town of Solvang, Ca. Its up to Clay Wrens, the county’s premier detective to solve the murders and calm the townspeople.
Complicating the investigation is a local politician who’s afraid the Wrens will uncover his financial transgressions, while a female reporter, with her own agenda, is suggesting that Wrens be replaced
As the investigation moves to a climax, Wrens is drawn to a twenty five year old murder and the convicted murderer, who’s just been released from prison.

ORDER YOUR COPY

Amazon → https://amzn.to/3cS2I4b

The clock struck twelve. Lucille and three of the other laundry workers took off the scarves protecting their hair, looked in the mirror, applied some lipstick, walked down a long corridor and up two flights of stairs to the main cafeteria. It was Tuesday and meatloaf was the special today. To Lucille, it brought back memories of family meals with mashed potatoes, kernel corn and buttermilk biscuits. Most of her family had passed away; she wondered why time had passed so fast.

Lucille grabbed a tray, some napkins, utensils and started down the line; she
decided to have a salad with the special. After she’d made her selections, she looked around and saw that the other three women had found a vacant table near a window. She walked over and sat down with them. They were acquaintances not friends, but they’d spent enough time together that the talk between them flowed free and easy. The best thing that could be said for this group was that none of them smoked.

The four passed the lunch hour with idle gossip until about ten minutes to the hour, then they dumped their refuse, put the empty trays on a rack and started back to work.

Two of the women stopped to talk to another woman at a different table, so Florence Rice
followed Lucille back through the corridor, past security and down the stairs. They still had three hours before their shift ended.

As Lucille started down the stairs, she was struck on the back of her head and she
staggered, but instinctively reached out and grabbed the rail with both hands. She was initially able to maintain her balance, until she was hit again in the back of the head. Lucille started to lose consciousness as she fell to the bottom of the stairs, landing on her stomach and hitting her head on the concrete floor. Still partially alert, Lucille felt someone land on her back and stab her several times; finally, she passed out.

George Bellows, a senior security guard was coming up the stairs at the same time Lucille was being attacked on the landing between the two flight of stairs. The aggressiveness of Florence was more than Bellows could deal with and he called for help. It required two more security officers, in addition to Bellows, to subdue the attacker.

Medical personnel responded quickly, but blood was oozing from four puncture wounds in Lucille’s back. As soon as the medics were able to control the bleeding, Lucille was
placed on a gurney and transported to the infirmary. The physician on duty and his nurse
assistant worked feverishly to stabilize Lucille, clean and stitch up the wounds.

It didn’t appear that any organs had been damaged. Lucille was still unconscious but her
breathing was normal. There was a moderate size bump on her forehead where she hit the
concrete floor and one on the back of her head where she been struck.  Bellows recovered both weapons that Florence used.

A specialist came in from Chicago that evening to repair the damage to several muscles in Lucille’s back. It was after midnight before Lucille regained consciousness and asked for something to drink. When the doctor came back on duty at eight the next morning, the nurse on duty told the doctor that Lucille was incoherent and confused.

“She kept asking me what happened and wanted to know where she was. I told her that
she’d been assaulted and stabbed several times.”

“By who?” she asked me

“By one of the inmates,” I responded.

“Inmates of what?’  she asked me.

“Inmates of the State Prison of Illinois for women.”

James S. (Jim) Kelly is a retired United States Air Force Colonel with over 100 combat missions in Vietnam. Prior to his retirement, Jim was Program Director for a Communication’s Program in Iran, working directly under the Shah. Jim and his wife, Patricia own and operate High Meadow’s Horse Ranch outside Solvang, California. All of his novels use Solvang and the Santa Ynez Valley as a setting. Over the past 15 years, Jim and his wife have been active in a charity supporting our troops in forward operating locations, in hostile territory, overseas. To contact Jim, email him at jkelly2020@outlook.com.

Website: www.kellywritings.com

 

Book Feature: SURVIVING HIROSHIMA by Anthony Drago & Douglas Wellman

SURVIVING HIROSHIMA
Anthony Drago & Douglas Wellman
Biography

From Russian nobility, the Palchikoffs barely escaped death at the hands of Bolshevik revolutionaries until Kaleria’s father, a White Russian officer, hijacked a ship to take them to safety in Hiroshima. Safety was short lived. Her father, a talented musician, established a new life for the family, but the outbreak of World War II created a cloud of suspicion that led to his imprisonment and years of deprivation for his family.

Then, on August 6, 1945, 22-year-old Kaleria was doing pre-breakfast chores when a blinding flash lit the sky over Hiroshima, Japan. A moment later, everything went black as the house collapsed on her and her family. Their world, and everyone else’s changed as the first atomic bomb was detonated over a city.

After the bombing, trapped in the center of previously unimagined devastation, Kaleria summoned her strength to come to the aid of bomb victims, treating the never-before seen effects of radiation. Fluent in English, Kaleria was soon recruited to work with General Douglas MacArthur’s occupation forces.

https://amzn.to/2DHTSue

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At 09 15:15am Tinian time - 08 15:15am Hiroshima time - the bomb drop sequence counts down to zero and Little Boy falls free from the bomb bay. Major Ferebee announces, “Bomb away,” but the everyone already knows that. Suddenly no longer struggling with its nearly 10,000 pound load, the Enola Gay has leaped upward, jolting the crew. Tibbetts immediately pulls the aircraft into a 155 degree right turn to put as much distance as possible between them and the blast site. They will have some time to make their escape. It will take Little Boy 44 seconds to fall to its designated detonation altitude of just under 2,000 feet.

In 44 seconds the future of warfare will be inalterably changed.

In 44 seconds tens of thousands of people will witness a horror never before seen.

In 44 seconds a 24-year-old Russian émigré, Kaleria Palchkoff, will be in the center of a horrendous conflagration never before unleashed in human history.

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Anthony “Tony” Drago was born in Camden, New Jersey and spent much of his early childhood at his paternal grandparents Italian grocery store. From a young age, his mother, Kaleria Palchikoff Drago, would tell him the captivating story of her journey from Russia to Japan and then to the United States. It created Tony’s foundation for his love of history—especially his family’s history—bringing him to write this book.

After retiring in 2006, Tony doubled down on his passions—flying his airplane, restoring his classic car, and traveling the world with his wife, Kathy. Tony and Kathy have been married for forty-five years. They have three adult children and enjoy spending their days on the beach in their hometown of Carmel, California with their eight grandchildren and dogs, Tug and Maggie. For more information about Kaleria and the book, visit http://www.survivinghiroshima.com.

Douglas Wellman was a television producer-director for 35 years, as well as dean of the film school at the University of Southern California. He currently lives in Southern Utah with his wife, Deborah, where he works as a chaplain at a local hospital when he isn’t busy writing books.
For more information on Doug and the books he has written, visit his website at http://www.douglaswellmanauthor.com.