Gas Money on tour….

Gas-Money-BannerGiveaway Details:

There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:

  • 10 signed, print copies of Gas Money

Giveaway is US/Can    JGBS Logo

Ends April 3rd at 11:59 PM ET

Rafflecopter giveaway link is at the end of this post.



Title: Gas Money

Author: Troy Lewis

Published: July 1st, 2015

Genre: Nonfiction Narrative/Memoir

Recommended Age: 12+

Synopsis: Gas Money is a heartwarming, honest narrative that shows how the everyday people we come in contact with can shape our lives forever.

Packed with much humor, lots of inspiration and occasional sadness, the collection of true stories captures the perspective and imagination of a six-year-old black boy growing up in 1960s Virginia and his soul-searching journey over the next five decades.

Excerpt from Gas Money by Troy Lewis:

As a 7th grader, I became a Mental Health Center client after being labeled a “sexual pervert” by my Aunt Dot. That label was given to me for what I did one day in gym class. After Mumma and Da parted ways, some in my family thought that I was well on my way down a path that was far more sinister.

While Coach Dickens was setting up the volleyball net, a girl (her name wasn’t important) came over and whispered, “If you follow me in the girls’ locker room, I’ll let you see my breasts!” I wasn’t going to miss that opportunity because I hadn’t seen any breasts! I took about two steps into the girls’ locker room before Coach Dickens snatched me by the back of my neck, “Troy Lewis, where in the hell do you think you’re going?” Uh oh. I was marched up to the principal’s office to see Mr. Meredith, and he had Mrs. Arnetta Kidd, the school secretary, call Grandma Latimore for someone to come pick me up. I guess they felt like they had to get me off the school premises as quickly as possible! To make matters worse, Mumma was at work, so Grandma Latimore took the phone call from Mrs. Kidd. Was there anything worse at 12 years old than standing in the secretary’s office listening to her explain to your grandmother that you are being sent home from school because you were caught sneaking in the girls’ locker room to look at a half naked 12-year-old girl? Grandma Latimore lived for another 23 years, but I sincerely thought she would be dead when I got home from school. Faye came down to pick me up, and she wasn’t happy as we walked toward her car. For each step, there was a smack to the back of my head! After starting the car and getting on 33, she gave me one more smack for good measure.

Aunt Dot lived across the field from Grandma and Grandpop Latimore’s house. When she saw Faye’s car pull up, she got in her tan 1970 two-door Chevy Malibu to see what was going on. It was unusual for Faye to stop by that early in the afternoon. Aunt Dot came in and asked, “Why are you home from school early? Why did Faye have to come pick you up? Are you sick?” “Sort of,” said Faye, as she explained what I had been up to while puffing on her Parliament cigarette that came in the royal blue and white pack. Aunt Dot’s contempt for me was evident when she said, “What are you? Some kind of sexual pervert?” I didn’t even know what a “pervert” was, but her face told me it wasn’t good. She went on, “There aren’t any perverts in the Latimore family, and you aren’t going to be the first.” She turned her head in Faye’s direction. “It’s obvious this boy needs some help, and isn’t that what that new Center in Saluda where you work is supposed to do? Help people? Let one of those psychiatrist people talk some sense into his big head! I don’t know what’s wrong with him! I think he’s lost his mind.”

Counseling may have been on the verge of becoming commonplace throughout the U.S., but it was cutting edge for Middlesex County in 1973. Anyone who “talked” to someone about a problem was considered “weird” or worse, “insane.” Counseling worked for me about 40 years later, but that’s another story. At the time, psychiatry was something that took place on television, not in Middlesex County. And if people happened to drive by the Middle Peninsula-Northern Neck Mental Health Center and saw your car in the tiny parking lot, you might as well have posted it in the Southside Sentinel that you had a mental health problem because it was going to be all over the county by the next day. That’s just the way it was in a small town.

Faye made an appointment for me with Dr. Jack Billups the following morning. Looking back, I was surprised Faye and Aunt Dot didn’t set up an emergency appointment for me the previous evening! Faye picked me up at 7:30, and we drove in silence for the 2 miles up to the Mental Health Center. She was still mad at me. We pulled into the driveway of the Center, and I followed Faye inside. She took a seat at her desk, and dismissed me by pointing her index finger in the direction of Dr. Billups’ office. That was my signal to get away from her! Dr. Billups greeted me at the top of the stairs and ushered me into his office. “Have a seat on the couch and tell me why you are here.” Wow, this really is like The Bob Newhart Show! I sat down on his couch. “I’m here because I am a sexual pervert.” A smile creased his face as he sought more information. Why is he smiling? This isn’t funny! I’m a pervert! “Please explain to me why you think that you’re a pervert.” “Well, I was in 6th period gym class, and a girl walked over to me and told me that if I followed her into the girls’ locker room she would let me see her breasts. I followed her in there, and Coach Dickens caught me.” “Is that it?” “Yes, sir.” He asked if I touched her. “No, sir.” “Did anything else happen?” “No, sir. There wasn’t time for anything else to happen.” “Okay, here’s my opinion. You aren’t a sexual pervert.” “Really?” “No, I don’t think you are. I think you’re going to be okay.” “I’m not a pervert?” “No, you’re just 12! Let’s go downstairs and get your Aunt Faye to take you to school.” My counseling session lasted all of 5 minutes, but Dr. Billups’ assessment wasn’t good enough for my family. They wanted continued counseling for the first pervert in the family!

Faye picked me up Monday mornings at 7:30 for the next few weeks, but we never stopped at the Center. At least she realized I wasn’t a pervert! We drove from one end of Middlesex County to the other in her grey 1972 Datsun 240SX for an hour. As we drove “up and down the county,” she puffed on her Parliament cigarettes and drank coffee, while we talked about life, family, girls and homework. She then dropped me off at school, winked and said, “Remember, this is our secret and don’t you tell anybody!” It took about 2 months to be officially “rehabilitated.” Our secret remained just that until I revealed the truth to Mumma some 40 years later. “Are you kidding me? I’m gonna kill Faye!”

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Troy-LewisAbout the Author:

Troy Lewis is the author of the book Gas Money. Troy was born and raised in the tiny town of Saluda, Virginia (where the population has doubled to 769 since his departure in 1974).

Troy and his book, Gas Money, have been featured on C-SPAN Book TV, Steve Adubato’s One-on-One PBS TV program, radio, various newspapers and a review in The Huffington Post.

Since the launch of his book, Troy has had numerous public appearances and speaking engagements. He is a dynamic speaker who shares his inspirational stories with schools, libraries, fund-raisers and book clubs.

Troy currently resides in New Jersey and enjoys writing. Gas Money is his first foray into the literary world.

Author Links:

Amazon Author Page




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Posted in Book Blog Tours, Children and Young Adult Authors, Memoirs., Non-Fiction, Young Adult and Adult | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Trifling Favors by Heather Hiestand

ET_TriflingFavors_Banner copyHeather will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

GENRE: Historical Romance (Victorian)


The sweetest treat is a kiss…

Greggory Redcake’s plate is full. Widowed young and left with two small children, the manager of the Kensington location of the illustrious tea shop is besieged on all sides between the bakery and family matters. If only his remarkably efficient shop assistant, Betsy Popham, could manage his home life, too! But Greggory can’t linger on thoughts of Betsy’s fetching smile when a dead body is discovered in the bakery…

Betsy has no time for romance, not even with the delectable Mr. Redcake, whose kisses are all too unforgettable. Haunted by a specter from her family’s past, Betsy is terrified that the man blackmailing her has turned to deadly violence. Yet the only way to save her position–and possibly her life–is to accept Greggory’s help as their delicious attraction sweetens into the tantalizing promise of true love…



Exclusive Excerpt:

As Betsy started down the stairs, the lights behind her were extinguished. She craved this silence after a long, busy day. No more customers, no cakies or shopgirls bustling about.

When she reached the entry hall, she saw one of the ferns, hanging in pots on wires above her head, was swaying. Mr. Redcake stopped behind her and breathed on her neck.

“What is wrong?”

She pointed up. “The fern is swaying, as if someone bumped it.”

He lifted his hand and stopped the basket from moving. “It’s up seven feet. No one bumped it, unless we had a late customer who is a circus freak.”

She turned. “A man could reach up a hand and set it into motion as easily as you stopped it. Or a very tall man with a tall hat could have bumped it.”

He pulled a silver pocket watch from the interior of his coat and peered at it. “No one should have been here this past half hour.”

They both stood silently, craning their necks, not sure what they were looking for.

“How long would it take for a fern to stop swaying?” she asked.

“Not half an hour. Was a window left open? The doors are closed.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll check the tearoom,” she said.

“I’ll see to the bakery.”

They separated. She saw one of the doors to the tearoom was open slightly, which was unusual at this time of night. The double doors were usually locked because the tearoom closed an hour before the bakery did.

She peered through the door, hearing the snick of a key in a lock as Mr. Redcake opened the bakery doors, which must have been closed properly. Light still streamed in through one window. White and gold lace and cotton curtains properly covered all but that window on the far right. She glanced along the room, following the path of the light.

When she saw the man’s shoe, slack and brown against the gleaming white floor, she screamed.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Heather Hiestand was born in Illinois, but her family migrated west before she started school. Since then she has claimed Washington State as home, except for a few years in California. She wrote her first story at age seven and went on to major in creative writing at the University of Washington. Her first published fiction was a mystery short story, but since then it has been all about the many flavors of romance. Heather’s first published romance short story was set in the Victorian period, and she continues to return, fascinated by the rapid changes of the nineteenth century. The author of many novels, novellas, and short stories, she has achieved best-seller status at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. With her husband and son, she makes her home in a small town and supposedly works out of her tiny office, though she mostly writes in her easy chair in the living room.

For more information, visit Heather’s website at Heather loves to hear from readers! Her email is

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Posted in Adult E-Books, Adult Fiction Authors, Adult Romance, Adult Thriller, Book Blog Tours | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Collective Ramblings: Volume 1 by Various Authors

BB_CollectiveRamblings_Banner copyThe authors will be awarding 1 print copy of Collective Ramblings: Volume 1,(international winner) or 2 ebooks (one of Collective Ramblings: Volume 1 and the second winner’s choice) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

GENRE: Anthology


2015’s Twenty Short Story Contest winners assembled in one place. Five stories from each category (Super Powers, Deserted Island, Horror, and Labyrinth), including the top winners of each contest shown below.

The Era of Super Weapons – Roger, America’s super-soldier, embarks on what seemed a routine mission –until his enemies turn to allies against a horde revealing information that will turn the entire world on its head.

Synchronysi – A steampunk masterpiece. After her volunteer operation, a woman awakens to a world made entirely of tine crystals. As she travels the shining island, the product of her surgery reveals much more than she may be able to handle—neither the land of crystals nor the world from which she arrived are exactly what they seem.

Terrors Great and Small – A couple barricades themselves in their home to escape a viral outbreak carried by mosquito bites. As the days of panic and solitude stack up, they battle with both their own crumbling sanity and the terror of what really awaits them beyond their front door.

The Walls Are Alive – in a world where violent offenders are placed in a deadly, automated labyrinth—designed to let no one escape alive—the labyrinth’s caretaker steps inside for a routine maintenance. When the automation turns on him, he’s forced to run the maze like all the criminals he’s sent to their own demise.



Excerpt:  Horror

From out in the hall, something big dropped from the ceiling, slamming its bulk into the door and knocking Simon against the desk. He quickly bounced back, throwing all his weight against the door, pushing it back. A terrible droning sound filled them all with a primal fear. It rose in pitch and volume as the door moved toward Simon. He pushed against it with all his strength, groaning as he gained and lost inches. Simon used the desk behind him as a brace, using his legs to add to the strength of his push. The door was closing. He was…winning.

He shouted in alarm as something grabbed the door from the outside. At first, he thought it was a stick, like a branch. It was segmented and moving, with bristling hairs, like thorns. He gave a greater push as the droning outside reached a terrifying whine. He was awestruck with horror when he risked a strained glimpse through the narrowing crack and saw a huge compound eye staring back at him.

Simon recoiled and the door opened a little wider. He could now clearly see the thing. It was neither a giant insect nor a man, but a ghastly amalgam of both. Torn and bloody flesh was a quivering, wet curtain beneath the bulging eyes. From behind the bleeding mess, a long and slender tube, like an exposed muscle, stretched toward Simon’s face. He almost wept when he saw, above those prismatic eyes, a tuft of shocking orange hair. The frantic beating of veiny, cellophane-like wings caused the droning. He could feel the wind of their beating and he could smell the stench of decay it blew off its own shredded flesh.

–           Terrors Great and Small By John Langmaack


MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_CollectiveRamblings AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Just as it says, Collective Ramblings is a collection of various works, an anthology. In 2015, we completed our quarterly writing contests, each with its own theme. For each theme, the five best entries were selected from the contest to have their works published. All twenty stories have been compiled into this book for your reading pleasure. The four contest themes were:

  • Super Powers
  • Deserted Island
  • Horror
  • Labyrinth.

We know everyone will love these imagination-stretching stories, that are filled with suspense, bravery, and danger, as much as we did.




Posted in Adult E-Books, Book Blog Tours | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

WAY TO GO by Mandy Colton

MBB_WayToRoll_BannerMandy will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Rafflecopter and tour links are located at the end of this post.


Way to Go: Veronica Lane works in the travel industry in her dream job when she experiences a hellish travel day ending in the loss of her job and stranded far from home. To make the situation even worse, she drowns her sorrows in the hotel bar, and wakes the next morning to a big surprise.

Gathering up the remains of her dignity along with her travel bags, she returns to her hometown in Peachtree City, Georgia. A community similar to a progressive Mayberry, except with golf cart paths and carts. A lot of them. Her family is kooky. The parents are sexually free and liberal, her brother is a golf cart cop with more good looks and brawn than brains. Her grandparents, one from each side, live in the same retirement community and maintain a constant battle while entertaining the other senior citizens. The Grandmother on her dad’s side is stuck in the 1960’s, and the Grandfather on her mother’s side served in WWII and thinks that the Japanese are still trying to kill him.

She calls inquiring about a job in the newspaper, a group escort for a small tour company in Atlanta. She is hired immediately and leaves the next day with her first group to Jamaica. First, she meets a handsome pilot with the charter airline they use, and then there is one unusual group participant that doesn’t seem to belong. He leaves the group for periods of time and when things happen, he uses MacGyver like skills to get them out of the situations. She is aggravated and knows something is fishy and the bad thing is, the man is very charismatic and she’s not just a little attracted to him.

Upon their return, she finds out that the man is friends with her rather unconventional boss and after a second unusual group excursion to Puerto Rico; she knows for sure that the little tour company in Atlanta is not really what it seems on the outside. When the truth is revealed, she finds herself unintentionally dropped into a new career that she can’t exactly add to her resume.

Veronica finds herself in uncomfortable and hilarious situations, surrounded by crazy tour participants, family, friends, neighbors, and pets. After a long dry spell, she finds that there is suddenly an overabundance of romance, drama, and intrigue in her life. Her life is now a sometimes very bumpy, yet exciting ride.

Way to Roll:

Secure your seat belt and get ready for another bumpy ride.

Veronica Lane never considered her life dull as a single woman working in the travel industry as a sales representative—not until one bad day ends in the loss of her dream job, and desperation leads her to Cavalcade Tours. The fun quickly turns into chaos and eyebrow-raising questions. Disaster leads to a shocking revelation leaving Veronica disgruntled and unsure if she has what it takes to begin a whole new career.

Some time away, deep thought, and her own misadventures have her gathering up the remains of her dignity and returning to her job with its interesting group of colorful and charismatic cohorts…with one big change. She’ll no longer just be a tour escort this time. Milton Porter, the owner of Cavalcade Tours, owns another company with secrets.

With her mind made up, new skills, passport in hand, and her bags packed, Veronica is ready to roll out for new destinations. Things get hairy as she tackles the dual roles her new job demands, dodging wild animals, nasty foes, and sometimes even the new men in her life.

Surrounded by kooky tourists, Veronica’s adventures place her in some dramatic and hilarious situations, and each return home to Peachtree City, Georgia has its own drama with her family of oddballs, nutty bunch of friends, and their pets. Her new life is sometimes bumpy and filled with turbulence, but it stays an intriguing and exciting ride.

MediaKit_BookCover_WayToGoExcerpt from Way to Go:

I was dreaming about Gremlins, an old movie I’d watched years ago as a kid. The little critters in the movie were really cute, until they got wet and then multiplied and wreaked havoc. Somehow they’d gotten in my head and dragged a hot tub in with them, having some twisted version of a frat party. That’s when my dream turned into a nightmare—fur balls popped as the creatures multiplied, wiggling and wallering around squealing. All the bouncing around and commotion started to nauseate me. My subconscious pleaded with me to wake up and just make it stop.

When I finally opened one eye and turned to look at the clock, a line of drool followed me. I smacked at my lips, grimacing at the strange taste in my mouth, and looked down at my pillow. Yuck. I seriously slobbered in my sleep?

Nice, Lane. Can’t wait to look in the mirror.

I swiped my hand across my mouth and slowly opened the other eye. Looking down, I waited a few seconds for my vision to clear. No nightgown. Drooling and naked. Not good signs. Blinking a few times, I looked around the room.

Agh, shit!

I closed my eyes and declared in my head that I was still having a nightmare. I would open them again and just be curiously sitting here naked with a hangover. That’s all. One, two, three…

I opened one eye. Aww, fuck—I mean, fudge. What did I do? Uhn…probably did just that.

There was a man in my bed.


MediaKit_BookCover_WayToRollExcerpt from Way to Roll:

When Nash came back, he was naked, having shed his own wet clothes, and he was carrying a tray full of food.

That made me giggle. I pointed at his man parts. “Ha! A naked waiter. That’s pretty hot. I wanna place my order right now.”

He snickered and sat down in the floor next to the tub with the tray and began spooning me soup. That’s when I got a really good look at him in the light. He was almost blue!


“Yeah, kitten.”

I giggled again. “You look like a Smurf.”

He laughed. “So do you. We’re working on that.”

He fed me another bite of soup.

“You have to take some bites too,” I said touching his cold face.

He did and then smiled at me, and we continued to eat until the food was gone. He set the tray aside and then warmed up the water, stepping into the tub behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

“We did it, and we’re safe now, right?”

“Yes, we did, and we are safe.”

Feeling warmer, I was really getting drowsy again, thinking about the way he always seemed to come through and save us, keeping me and others around him safe. The sweet way he took care of me. The thoughts were giving me the warm fuzzies again. I picked up the hand on my stomach and grazed his fingers with my lips. Without thinking, I whispered, “Nash, I really love you.”

His body instantly tensed and minutes went by. Then he finally said in a very monotone voice, “Let’s get out of the tub and go to bed.”

I became more alert as we dried off, and when we crawled into the bed, he put his arm around me, but that was it. It was only a double bed and the cover was thin making me feel like the gesture had been made more out of necessity than affection. He never said a word, he never touched me further, and I felt the uncomfortable void that had suddenly grown between us like the Grand Canyon. And there was definitely emotional distance involved, he didn’t desire me anymore. When Nash was this close, he was always aroused. Not so tonight. It was what I’d said in the bathtub. I hadn’t really meant to say those words, meaning that I…that I really… I sighed. Fudge. They’d just sort of tumbled out and were hanging there for those awkward moments, and now something had changed in Nash. Guess I knew a sure fire way now how to repel him. Mentally and physically exhausted, I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.

Nash was up early and had already reported to WIC, and uploaded photos, and a map of the militia location. He had called the lady at the front desk about our wet clothes, and she’d been nice enough to stop by the room and take them for laundering. There wasn’t much we could do about our leather boots and jackets, as they were pretty much ruined. Nash gave the nice lady at the motel a generous tip, and thanked her for all she’d done for us when we left. We headed out, stopped quickly for some food, and moved on toward Crater Lake.

Nash had been unusually quiet all morning. He’d been polite, but curt, and avoided eye contact. It had stung the first time I put my arms around him on the bike and he’d gone nearly rigid like he couldn’t bear my touch. I was left with no doubts about how he felt regarding emotional ties, and I really wished that we could just go home now that we’d completed the mission. The rest of this trip was going to be miserably uncomfortable.

We caught up with the group at Crater Lake at the end of their hike. They were heading to a natural hot spring to soak, relax, and have some beers before dinner. Nash went with them, and I told Jemah to wake me to help with dinner and then headed to the coach for a nap. A while later, when I woke up and stepped off the coach, I noticed that the motorcycle was gone. Damn, the company I worked for had connections.

Nash set up his tent and sleeping bag for me that night, but he never joined me. He was up early, had breakfast with other tour members, and at the next coach stop, he disappeared. Although I wasn’t really surprised, it still hurt that he’d left without saying goodbye again.

The next two nights and days passed quickly. It had helped that I was in a mindless fog most of the time. We toured the caves of Lava Beds National Monument, a place where the U.S. Army and the Modoc Indians faced off at Captain Jack’s stronghold, and then Lassen National Park, currently a quiet volcano. The park had enough cracks in the earth and thermal activity to make the average man nervous and excite a volcanologist. Was supposed to be one of the wonders of the world. Made you wonder when it was really going to blow its stack again and hope you didn’t happen to be the dodo standing in the middle of it like we’d been.

Regarding blowing stacks… We had one more moment of excitement during the tour, and it came in a surprising form the last morning of the trip. I hadn’t slept much since Nash had left and was up early, had already showered and even helped in the breakfast line. Nash surprised the heck out of me and walked off the coach during breakfast, turning to give me a slight smile. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t already back in Atlanta. TI

This camp had a nice shower house, and Jemah donned her vintage swim cap again and headed that way after breakfast with her clothes and big scrub brush in hand while the rest of us finished cleaning up.

We had packed up the coach, and I was sitting at a picnic table talking to a few members of the group when we heard a hair-raising, high-pitched shrieking, followed by a sound like a squealing pig on the move. The door slammed open on the bathhouse, and out blasted a dripping wet and au naturel Jemimah, who was moving like the Roadrunner similar to that day after the bear encounter, scrub brush still in hand. We watched her squeal all the way to the coach and hop all three steps at one time like a mad bullfrog. Right before that door slammed shut, we heard a male scream, and Sully’s face appeared, plastered against the door window, looking freaked out with mouth agape. Suddenly, the door opened and he tumbled out onto the ground with a grunt, and then the door slammed shut again behind him. He just sat there on the ground, dazed and blinking, kind of like he was in shock.

After the rest of us had recovered from our own shock at that scene, some of the guys at the picnic table actually formed a plan and donned weapons and gloves to go in the bathhouse like they were expecting to find a killer or rapist like in the slasher flicks. They grabbed a cooking fork, a chopping knife, some big sticks, and a hammer and went to investigate. They came out several minutes later with Jemah’s clothes, howling with laughter. The only thing that they’d found was a tiny little deer mouse with a litter of babies.

Later, when we asked Jemah about it, she swore that it had raised up and tried to attack her like a momma bear with cubs. Poor Sully grumbled that his eyes burned and his butt was bruised for the first fifty miles heading back to Frisco. Nash pretty much stayed clear of me during the trip back.



AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Mandy Colton is from Louisville, KY, and lives a very quiet life with her husband and teenage son. She’s a fan of romance, fun adventure stories, and some occasional sci-fi or paranormal thrown in. Veronica Lane and the idea for her adventures came from her own experiences and career working in the travel industry.

She claims that working in the travel business could be horribly stressful but was equally laugh-out-loud funny at times. She enjoyed many priceless and comical experiences with groups, friends, and peers. Even her clients shared humorous adventures of their own. Her opinion is that there just are no better stories than those that involve true life.

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March 21: Christine Young
March 21: Long and Short Reviews
March 22: Writer Wonderland
March 23: A Writer’s Life
March 24: A to Z Reviews
March 25: Wendi Zwaduk ~ Romance to Make Your Heart Race
March 28: Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!
March 29: Rachel Brimble Romance
March 30: Two Ends of the Pen
March 31: T’s Stuff
April 1: Booklover Sue
April 4: Ali – The Dragon Slayer
April 5: EskieMama Reads
April 6: Author B. L. Blair
April 7: Louise Lyndon Romance Author Hear Me Roar
April 8: Straight from the Library



Posted in Adult E-Books, Adult Fiction Authors, Adult Romance, Book Blog Tours | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Cassandra released today……

New ReleaseBLURB:

Cassandra Hoffman orphaned at the age of five was raised by her maternal grandmother. Two decades pass when she is confronted with a letter from her father’s Denver based attorney. She’s shocked to learn that her dad lived through the car crash that took her mother and brothers in 1985. 


Casey’s haunted nights begin with the death of her father. Who is the shadow man in her dreams? Could it be her dad whom she had believed dead? She discovers he had another family, and some dark secrets Casey sets out to solve the mysteries of her abandonment, and find the answers to the nightshades that threaten her sanity. 

Our heroine runs afoul of a previously unknown nemesis as she searches for answers, but she also finds the love of her life. He too abandons her, as he struggles with physical and mental wounds from multiple tours in the Middle East. Can Casey forgive him as they confront a mutual enemy?


cassandra FINAL copyExcerpt:

JD escorted Gram to the car, and she entered the Italian restaurant on his arm. Casey walked behind the pair. Gram really seemed to enjoy herself, and it was obvious she was getting a kick out of parading around on JD’s arm. Heck, why not? Casey figured it had probably been a long time since Gram had such a good looking man, one who wasn’t gray, pay so much attention to her.

As for the other ogling females, Casey thought that they should get a load of him in his dress blues. That sight would have folks running for the defibrillators to restore the victims’ regular heartbeats. Casey decided she was in the safest spot, behind him and temporarily out of range of his piercing blue eyes. The small parade, led by the hostess, ended at a secluded corner table, which suited Casey just fine. While JD was occupied seating Gram as if he were the reincarnation of Sir Galahad, Casey positioned herself in the corner and tried to fade into the shadows of the dimly lit room.

She wished she was able to relax and enjoy the evening, but she did not trust him. She was losing the daylong battle to subdue the tormenting ache behind her eyes as well as persistent nausea. Her order of minestrone soup and salad set both of her dinner companions on her case. Nibbling on a breadstick and sipping a warm cup of tea, she ignored them and surveyed the coming and going of diners.

Soup was served, and she felt that she had made an excellent choice: it was not disagreeing with her touchy stomach. She focused on her bowl and avoided eye contact as she listened to JD banter with Gram. Still, she could feel his eyes whenever they traveled her way and lingered. Hearing her name, she raised her eyes to meet two familiar faces.

Andy and Alice greeted Casey and her grandmother, who then introduced Jimmy.

Gram insisted that the couple join them. Casey moved over to the vacant chair next to Gram, leaving two unoccupied. Andy, no fool, seated Alice next to Casey, and placed himself between JD and Alice. Casey’s sense of humor kicked in at the obvious manipulation.

She was digging into the pocket on her sundress for her vibrating cell while the newcomers placed their order. Casey asked Gram if she wanted to speak with Millie.

“You know that I can’t hear on those contraptions. Just ask her what she wants.”

“She says she’ll pick you up at nine in the morning.”

“Tell her that I will be ready.” Gram waved her hand in dismissal.

Casey thought her grandmother’s hearing was getting worse. In addition to her lapses in memory, and her occasional bouts of believing Casey was still a child, Gram seemed to get confused and disorientated more lately. It was worrisome to Casey that getting her grandmother to a doctor’s office depended on her state of mind and mood when it was time to keep the appointment.

“Millie, she’ll be ready, but there is a small snag. Gram has company from out of town. Do you have room for one more on the bus tour? Wonderful! I’ll pass on the good news. Oh, don’t worry, you’ll like him, all the ladies do.”

“Okay, Gram you’re all set, and you are welcome to bring Jimmy along.” A small triumphant laugh escaped before she could squelch it. She didn’t look at him as she tucked her phone back into her pocket, but she could feel his blue eyes burning holes through her like two powerful lasers.

“Did you just book him a seat on a senior bus tour?” Alice whispered while covertly glancing at JD.

“Yep. Sure did,” she declared, and grinned at him when Alice broke out in a fit of giggles.

J M Anton 2015 author Photo 2Author Links:
Writing Blog:

New Adult Blog:
Author Website:
Author Page with buy links:
Authors Den:
Online Autographs:
FB Adult Fan Page:

Book Buy Links:
Janton’s Square Market:

Website with book store:

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Big Move and a Fan Contest in the works!

Untitled designFAN FUN…….Win a copy of Cassandra’s print book (U.S. ONLY) or e-book.

Tell author J.M. Anton your favorite character from the “Troubles in Love-Land Series,” or those in her 2015 award winner “Wind River Refuge.” Share your favorite and why in the comments. Contest winners will be drawn on March 30th of 2016.

Follow Hap’s FB link to share your comments. Please friend us even if you are not a fan, yet.

Half Appy Press FB:

Please share on your FB page to help spread the word about HAP.

J M Anton 2015 author Photo 2

Thank you for vitiating A to Z Reviews over the past several years.

Our blog tours will be moving to a new location in about 7 days.

Our new blog was previously set up as an access to a Goddess Fish pavilion party for one my adult books a few years back. As part of Cassandra’s release debut she will help kick off the Nightstalker and Nightshades blog. Here is the link if you want to snoop around.

Please note that the new blogspot site is still under construction, but the new look is up with the new name. We will need a few days to notify our tour partners,

Adult works will move to the new blog, and author interviews as well as children’s books and selected YA books on tours will be added to the posts on Writing for readers in a .com world

Thank you to our faithful followers we hope that you will make to move with us.


Jackie Anton

Posted in Adult Fiction Authors, Adult Romance, Author Interviews, Book Blog Tours, Book Updates, Children and Young Adult Authors, Free and Dicounted E-Books, New Book Release, Writer and Author's Events, YA to Adult Novels | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Nora & Kettle: A Paper Stars Novel by Lauren Nicolle Taylor

Nora and Kettle Blitz BannerThere is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:

  • A print copy of Nora & Kettle with a signed book plate

Giveaway is US only –Rafflecopter link is at the end of the post.

Ends March 25th at 11:59 PM ET                                                 JGBS Logo

3d Nora and Kettle


Title:    Nora & Kettle

Series: A Paper Stars Novel

Author:  Lauren Nicolle Taylor

Published: February 29th (ebook), March 15th (print)

Publisher: Clean Teen Publishing

Genre: YA Historical

Recommended Age: 13+



“What if Peter Pan was a homeless kid just trying to survive, and Wendy flew away for a really good reason?”

Seventeen-year-old Kettle has had his share of adversity. As an orphaned Japanese American struggling to make a life in the aftermath of an event in history not often referred to the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II and the removal of children from orphanages for having “one drop of Japanese blood in them” things are finally looking up. He has his hideout in an abandoned subway tunnel, a job, and his gang of Lost Boys.

Desperate to run away, the world outside her oppressive brownstone calls to naive, eighteen-year-old Nora the privileged daughter of a controlling and violent civil rights lawyer who is building a compensation case for the interned Japanese Americans. But she is trapped, enduring abuse to protect her younger sister Frankie and wishing on the stars every night for things to change.

For months, they’ve lived side by side, their paths crossing yet never meeting. But when Nora is nearly killed and her sister taken away, their worlds collide as Kettle, grief stricken at the loss of a friend, angrily pulls Nora from her window.

In her honeyed eyes, Kettle sees sadness and suffering. In his, Nora sees the chance to take to the window and fly away.

Set in 1953, Nora & Kettle explores the collision of two teenagers facing extraordinary hardship. Their meeting is inevitable, devastating, and ultimately healing. Their stories, “a collection of events, are each on their own harmless. But together, one after the other, they change the world.”

EXCERPT From Nora and Kettle:



Time is hard to tell when the lights flicker on and off with a mind of their own, but the frigid air makes me suspect it’s nearly dawn. One day, they’ll stop working all together as the wires erode from lack of maintenance.

I scrape my eyelids of sleep and grit, propping myself up on my elbows. The sound of snoring kids is intermittently drowned out by subway cars whooshing through tunnels. No one stirs. The rattle of wheels over tracks is a lullaby, comforting, reassuring.

Two nights home and now I have to leave again.

I sigh loudly and collect my gear. Keeper’s small voice penetrates the hazy light. “You going already?” she whispers as she wipes the back of her hand under her runny nose. I crawl over sleeping bodies and touch her forehead. She feels a little clammy, a little too warm.

“You feeling okay, Keeps?” I ask softly.

She nods her head and coughs into her palm. “Just a cold,” she says and smiles for me. Her big, green eyes blink, red rimmed. “Mubbee I got allergies?” she asks.

I sling an arm around her slim shoulders and laugh, pulling her to me. “Maybe. Just take it easy today. Make sure everyone cleans up before lunchtime, eh?” She scribbles notes in a frayed pad of paper I gave her six months ago, licking the tip of the pen every now and then.

The corners of her mouth are stained with black ink when she grins and nods. “Yes sir, Kettle.” She sniffs again, and I hand her a handkerchief from my pocket. She nuzzles into my chest, almost purring just like a cat.

“I don’t need anyone getting sick, okay?” I warn with a wink.

She coughs, trying to cover it by stooping over. Her black hair falls over her face in one solid lump. I light a candle and peer at the watch nailed to the rocks behind me. I’ve only got about half an hour.

“Keeps?” She swings around, hair hanging over her eyes and in her mouth. “Come here, let me show you something.” She shuffles closer, looking a little scared. I pull out a hairbrush from the bag I brought home last night. “This is a hairbrush.” She squints at it, waiting for it to do something. “It’s for your hair, so it’s not so, um, hard to manage…” She tips her head to the side, looking for all intents and purposes like a puppy about to have its first bath. She’s our first and only girl resident. “Come sit in front of me.” I pat the ground gently, and she slides backward. “Don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you,” I reassure, although I’m not one hundred percent sure that’s true. “Keeps, what did I say when you came to live here, when you became a King?”

“Dat I could stay as long as I wanted and dat you would keep me safe,” she replies warily.

I grip the brush firmly in my hand and gesture to the section of cold stone in front of my crossed legs. “Do you believe that’s true?”

She scrunches her eyes shut and says, “Yes.” Crawling over to sit in front of me, she turns her mound of thick, black hair my way.

I raise the brush to her head, place it in her hair, and make a liar of myself.


The boys cover their ears to shield themselves from her caterwauling.

“Throw her back,” Krow mutters, scowling, which only makes her scream louder.

She bends her head back every time I run the brush through and screeches like I’m actually scalping her. The brush snags in the dirty clumps, and I can’t pull it through. I’ve said sorry about a hundred times but now that I’ve started, I feel like I need to finish it. She needs to look less like a street urchin and more like a child on her way to school if we’re going to remain inconspicuous.

On the hundredth and fiftieth scream, Kin finally storms over. He gets up in her face, and I think he’s going to tell her to shut up. It’s what I should have done, but I feel at a loss on how to deal with a ten-year-old girl who thinks I’m torturing her.

“Keeper, what would you like me to do? I can cut it all off or you can let us clean it up. Right now you look like a drowned rat wearing a dead cat toupee. Do you want to look like a drowned rat with a bad hairpiece?” Kin says.

She shakes her head and whimpers. Then she whispers, “I wanna look like that.” She points to the catalogue I’ve been teaching some of them to read from. A sweet girl with long brown hair in two plaits on either side of her head smiles thinly at us, her eyes round and blue, her ribbons frozen in mid-swing.

Both Kin and I stare at each other and gulp. Then Kin puffs out his chest, swears, and laughs. “If you can rescue women from burning buildings, together we can surely plait a ten-year-old girl’s hair.”

The boys snicker. “Shh!” I snap and then look to Kin. “Here you do this side and I’ll take the other.” We separate her hair into two uneven handfuls and go to work. With my mouth pressed tight, I start, with one eye on the photo we’re trying to replicate. The other eye is watching Kin try to plait hair with his giant paws. I swear he’s starting to sweat. I snort, gripping her hair so it doesn’t fall out.

Kin’s face jerks to mine. “What?”

I look down at the ground, my eyes watering. “Um, nothing…”

Kin holds his twisted clump of hair tightly, a concentrated, almost cross-eyed look on his face. “What?”

A laugh escapes my mouth, and all the boys join in. “I can’t watch you. My God. It’s like watching a bear try to peel a plastic banana!”

Kin sighs in exasperation but refuses to give up, a small smile creeping into his stern expression. “Yeah well, you’re surprisingly good at this. Anything you wanna tell us?”

Laughter fills the rocky space. It’s warm and bright, scrubbing the walls of grime and filling my heart.

When we’re finally done, I grip my plait tightly in my fingers, searching for something to tie it with. Krow steps forward and begrudgingly hands me two bread bag ties, which I wind around the ends. I push Keeps gently in the back. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Turning around, she gives me a look of ‘you’re kidding, right?’ and scampers to the mirror. She frowns when she meets her reflection. Her whole face is now visible, smooshed cheeks and pinchy little ears. She looks cute. She tips her head down, and one large lump falls over her eyes. I remember the gift I bought that I was saving for her King birthday. Fishing around in the paper bag, I retrieve two red clips with white polka dots on them. Keeps stares at herself like she doesn’t know it’s her face. I sweep her fringe back and clip it in place. She touches it lightly, like I’ve just put a diamond tiara on her head.

She smiles sweetly, her dark lips brimming with teeth. “I think you should cut it off. I’m a King, not a queen,” she states proudly.

I stall in shock, and then my heart does that proud, pumping-strong thing. Kin slaps my back, and I stumble forward. Keeps draws in a sharp breath as I fall and begins coughing uncontrollably.

“We’re going to be late,” Kin says, extending a long arm in my direction, his eyes sliding to the coughing girl sitting delicately on a faded purple cushion. “We’ll think about the haircut.”

I smile at her. “Think about it some more, Keeps. You might miss it when it’s gone.”

Her determined eyes tell me otherwise. Her sallow, sweaty skin worries me.

We leave the boys and… girl… with instructions and head to work.


Barnes & Noble


Lauren Nicolle TaylorAbout the Author:

Lauren Nicolle Taylor lives in the lush Adelaide Hills. The daughter of a Malaysian nuclear physicist and an Australian scientist, she was expected to follow a science career path, attending Adelaide University and completing a Health Science degree with Honours in obstetrics and gynecology.

She then worked in health research for a short time before having her first child. Due to their extensive health issues, Lauren spent her twenties as a full-time mother/carer to her three children. When her family life settled down, she turned to writing.

Author of the best selling Woodlands Series, she is also a 2014 Kindle Book Awards Semi-finalist and a USA Best Book Awards Finalist.

Author Links:

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