Crepe Expectations – Sarah Fox / #Extract #BlogTour #SilverDaggerBookTours @SDSXXTours @TheWriteFox


The Pancake House Mysteries #5

When a murder case from the past heats up again, it’s up to Marley McKinney to sort through a tall stack of suspects in the latest Pancake House Mystery. . .

Although it’s a soggy start to spring in Wildwood Cove, the weather clears up just in time for the town to host an amateur chef competition. Marley McKinney, owner of the Flip Side pancake house, already signed up to volunteer, and chef Ivan Kaminski is one of the judges. But when Marley visits her landscaper boyfriend Brett at the site of the Victorian mansion that’s being restored as the Wildwood Inn, she discovers something else pushing up daisies: human remains.

The skeleton on the riverbank washed out by the early-spring floodwaters belonged to eighteen-year-old Demetra Kozani, who vanished a decade earlier. While the cold case is reopened, Marley must step in when some of the cook-off contestants fall suspiciously ill. Stuck in a syrupy mess of sabotage and blackmail, it falls to Marley to stop a killer from crêping up on another victim. . .





The last diners of the day left the restaurant shortly after two o’clock, and I locked the door behind them, flipping the “open” sign to “closed.” Leigh Hunter, The Flip Side’s full-time waitress, untied her red apron from around her waist. Patricia Murray’s daughter, Sienna, did the same with her apron. Sienna was seventeen and still in school, but she worked at the pancake house on the weekends.

“Did you know that Logan’s entering the amateur chef competition?” I asked Sienna.

“Yep. He’s a really good cook. He got into watching cooking shows about three years ago, and now he can make some really amazing stuff.”

“I hope he does well in the competition,” Leigh said.

“He will,” Sienna said with confidence. “My friend Ellie Shaw’s entering too. She didn’t really want to, but her mom thought she should.”

“Why didn’t she want to?” I asked.

“She’s kind of shy. I don’t think she likes the idea of cooking in front of an audience.”

“Maybe she’ll forget anyone’s watching once she gets cooking,” Leigh said.

“I hope so. She’s really talented, especially with desserts.” Sienna headed for the break room to fetch her jacket, and soon she and Leigh had left the pancake house for the day.

Talking about cooking made me wonder if Brett would be finished work by dinnertime. I sent him a text message asking him how things were going. I tidied up the pancake house while waiting for his response. It came about half an hour later. He figured he’d have to work until six o’clock, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to stay at the inn any longer than that.

Hungry? I wrote in another text. I can bring you a snack.

I love you, was his quick response.

Smiling, I finished up my remaining tasks and grabbed a can of soda from the kitchen before heading out. I walked to Marielle’s Bakery and picked up two doughnuts and half a dozen chocolate chip cookies. From there, I set a course for home. The Wildwood Inn sat on the outskirts of town, and making the trip on foot would have taken a while, so I decided to make a quick stop at home to pick up my car.

After checking on my cat, Flapjack, and Brett’s dog, Bentley, I set off in my hatchback. When I reached my destination, I followed a long driveway toward the beautiful white Victorian mansion and continued along the branch that led around the house to the large detached garage, built in the same style as the inn. I parked my blue hatchback next to the cube van Brett used for his lawn and garden business.

With the paper bakery bag and soda can in hand, I wandered around the garage until I could see clear to the back of the inn’s property. An expanse of green lawn stretched from the mansion to a white gazebo—a

new addition, Brett had told me. Beyond the gazebo, flagstone pathways wandered around numerous flower beds. Brett had been working hard to add some color before the garden party. He’d already transplanted numerous types of flowers in a variety of hues and would add more over the coming days. Some of the flower beds farther back in the garden were home to recently planted rosebushes, which would bloom in a few weeks’ time.

As soon as I started across the lawn, I spotted Brett near the back of the property, working away at one of the last flower beds, only a stone’s throw from the woods that bordered the garden. There was a small cottage in the back corner of the lot, but I couldn’t see anyone else around. The garden was peaceful, the only sound the chirping of birds in the trees.

I followed the flagstone pathway past the flower beds, raising a hand in greeting when Brett looked up and saw me approaching.

“I come bearing food,” I said as I reached him.

He grinned and drove the spade he was holding into the soil so it would stand upright on its own. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”

I glanced around the garden. “You’ve made a lot of progress since the last time I was here. It looks great.”

“I need to work at a couple of other sites this week, but hopefully this job will be done in the next two weeks.” He pulled off his work gloves and tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. “How was your day?”

“Great. Everything went well at The Flip Side. A lot of people were talking about the garden party. They’re going to love what you’ve done here.”

“Hopefully Lonny and Hope will love it too,” he said.

“They will,” I said without any doubt. “They like what you’ve done so far, right?”

“So far so good,” he confirmed.

I held up the paper bag and can of soda. “Your snack.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

“I can’t say I was disappointed to have a chance to see you before tonight.”

He grinned. “I’m definitely not disappointed either.”

He led me to a stone bench at the end of the garden that faced the flower beds, the mansion visible in the distance. I sat with him and snacked on one of the doughnuts while he devoured the other one along with a couple of the cookies. When I’d finished eating, I rested my head against his shoulder.

“It’s so peaceful here,” I said, listening to the birdsong coming from the woods behind us.

Brett took a long drink of his soda. “It’s definitely a nice place to work.”

I raised my head. “Speaking of which, I should probably let you get back to it.”

He eyed the rosebushes sitting in pots near one of the flower beds, waiting to be transplanted. “Another two hours or so and then I’ll be heading home.”

I got to my feet and set the paper bag on the bench. “I’ll leave these here in case you want more.”

Brett set down his soda can as he stood up. He took my hands, pulling me in close. “Thanks for stopping by, Marley.”

He gave me a lingering kiss that I reluctantly pulled away from.

“See you later.”

I was about to set off along the garden path when something small and black streaked toward the tree line. I spun around to follow its progress.

“A kitten!” I exclaimed. “Did you see that?”

The tiny black cat paused at the edge of the woods, its green eyes wide, one ear twitching while the rest of its body remained frozen.

“Does it belong to Lonny and Hope?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Brett said. “I caught a brief glimpse of it earlier today, but that’s the first time I’ve seen a cat around here.”

I took a careful step toward the kitten. It dashed beneath a bushy fern and hunkered down, out of sight except for the tip of one black ear.

“It looks way too tiny to be out here on its own,” I said.

“We can take it up to the house and see if that’s where it belongs. If we can catch it, that is.”

As if it had heard Brett’s words, the little kitten darted out from its hiding place and zipped away, deeper into the woods.

“Catching it might not be possible, but I don’t want to leave it in the woods. Maybe we can at least get it to run back this way.”

“We can try,” Brett agreed.

We moved off in opposite directions, planning to circle around into the woods and hopefully herd the kitten back to the garden. I tried to move quietly as I entered the woods, not wanting to scare the cat farther into the forest. Despite my efforts, twigs still snapped under my feet and the underbrush rustled as I picked my way through the trees.

I could hear rushing water somewhere nearby and realized we were close to the Wildwood River. My concern for the kitten shot up. Although the water level was on its way down now, the river was still higher than usual and could be dangerous for anyone who got too close to the slippery, unstable banks. I didn’t want the kitten going anywhere near the water.

As I moved deeper into the forest, the dirt beneath my feet became soggier. Through the trees, I caught sight of the river, still swollen and muddy, hurtling its way toward the ocean. I swept my gaze from left to right, desperately seeking out any sign of the kitten.

“Can you see it?” I called out to Brett when he came into view. We were almost to the river now, and I had to talk over the sound of the rushing water.

“Not yet,” Brett called back.

At the sound of his voice, something moved slightly a few feet away. I peered at a small, hollowed-out cavity at the base of an old tree. It was dark inside the hole, but I was certain I’d seen movement. I crept closer

to the tree, moving slowly and cautiously.

I was about to crouch down in front of the hole when the kitten darted out of the hollow tree. I dropped to my knees and grabbed at the kitten, ending up flat on my stomach, my arms outstretched ahead of me. A fallen tree branch poked at my ribs, cold moisture was seeping through my jeans, and I had a face full of ferns, but I also had a wriggling kitten in my grasp.

“Are you okay?” Brett asked as he hurried over to me.

“I caught it!” I said through the ferns.

I couldn’t see too well, but I heard Brett reach my side. One of his hands brushed against mine.

“I’ve got it. You can let go now.”

I released my firm but gentle hold on the cat and climbed to my feet, brushing pine needles and clumps of mud from my clothes. I smiled at the sight of Brett holding the little kitten against his chest, but when I reached down to brush a clod of mud from my knee, my smile slipped away.


“Are you hurt?” he asked with concern.

I shook my head and stepped back before pointing at the ground.

Next to the patch of ferns I’d landed in, a partial human skull poked out through the mud.

Thank you, Sarah Fox and Silver Dagger Book Tours.

About the author 

Sarah Fox is the author of the Music Lover’s Mystery series and the USA Today bestselling Pancake House Mystery series. When not writing novels or working as a legal writer, she can often be found reading her way through a stack of books or spending time outdoors with her English Springer Spaniel. Sarah lives in British Columbia and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada. Visit her online at

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Author Links








No Saving Throw – Kristin McFarland / #PromoPost #BlogTour #SilverDaggerBookTours @SDSXXTours @kaymcfarland


Autumn has everything she could possibly want: Loving friends, a successful business, and a gaggle of gamers in her store every day. Welcome to Ten Again, a tabletop gaming store that attracts nerds of every kind and fosters a community Autumn’s pretty proud of―a community that also keeps business afloat. And now that Autumn’s in the running for a grant, Ten Again’s future is looking bright. That is, until one of Autumn’s gamers is mysteriously murdered. With everyone in the mall as a suspect and accusations flying, Autumn is going to have to do some sleuthing of her own to save her shop and her gamers from a fate more dangerous than having no saving throw. “A nat 20! No Saving Throw is a fun, tight mystery that perfectly encapsulates the difficulties gamers face at being taken seriously. Protagonist Autumn Sinclair will stop at nothing to save not only her store, but also the geeky community it fosters.” ―Alex Erickson, author of the Bookstore Café Mysteries



Promo Post


Thank you, Kristin McFarland and Silver Dagger Book Tours.


About the Author

Kristin McFarland has a Master of Arts in Journalism from Indiana University, which launched her on a short-lived but very exciting career as a newspaper reporter. After graduate school, she worked for five different newspapers around the country, writing about politics, crime, arts, environmental issues, crack addicts, prostitutes, and parades. She eventually wised up and decided that making up political fights and crime scenes would be a lot more fun than reporting on real ones. Today, she lives in southern Indiana, where she spends most of her time daydreaming about fictional lives and/or thinking about wool.

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Author links





It All Comes Back To You – Beth Duke / #Interview #BlogTour #ItAllComesBackToYou #RandomThingsTours @bethidee


Alabama, 1947. 

War’s over, cherry-print dresses, parking above the city lights, swing dancing.

Beautiful, seventeen-year-old Violet lives in a perfect world.
Everybody loves her.

In 2012, she’s still beautiful, charming, and surrounded by admirers.

Veronica “Ronni” Johnson, licensed practical nurse and aspiring writer, meets the captivating Violet in the assisted living facility where Violet requires no assistance, just lots of male attention. When she dies, she leaves Ronni a very generous bequest―only if Ronni completes a book about her life within one year. As she’s drawn into the world of young Violet, Ronni is mesmerized by life in a simpler time. It’s an irresistible journey filled with revelations, some of them about men Ronni knew as octogenarians at Fairfield Springs.

Struggling, insecure, flailing at the keyboard, Ronni juggles her patients, a new boyfriend, and a Samsonite factory of emotional baggage as she tries to craft a manuscript before her deadline.

But then the secrets start to emerge, some of them in person. And they don’t stop.

Everything changes.

(the official publisher of the book is The Art of Dixie)





1.When and where do you prefer to write? 

I write sitting in bed, on a laptop. Ideas flow best in the morning and early afternoon, and my bedroom is my hermetically sealed, silent writing chamber. No interruptions. My face gets monstrously scary when my husband interrupts my writing, and he rarely does anymore.

2. Do you have a certain ritual?

I don’t have a writing ritual, except the aforementioned silence. I know there are writers who work to soundtracks; I could never do that!

3. Is there a drink of some food that keeps you company while you write? 

I usually promise myself food as a reward for finishing, so I’m not sipping or eating anything while writing.

4. What is your favourite book? 

I cannot possibly name one favorite book. Among my most beloved are “A Prayer for Owen Meany”, “The Pillars of the Earth”, and whatever book I just closed the cover on that lingers in my heart and mind.

5. Do you consider writing a different genre in the future?

I love historical fiction and writing in different eras, but haven’t done an entire book in that genre. It would be my first choice of new direction.

6. Do you sometimes base your characters on people you know? 

I do base characters on people I know, though they generally end up composites of several people with a great deal of imagined detail. If I’m really mad at someone, they might be portrayed in a less-than-flattering fashion…though they’ll never know it. That character will be heavily disguised!

7. Do you take a notebook everywhere in order to write down ideas that pop up? 

I email myself ideas. Best electronic helper in my life.

8. Which genre do you not like at all? 

I am not a big fantasy fan, and haven’t read much magical realism I loved. There are always exceptions, though.

9. If you had the chance to co-write a book. Whom would it be with? 

Stephen King, simply to witness The Master.

10. If you should travel to a foreign country to do research, which one would you chose and why?

I have done research unwittingly in Ireland and Austria and New Zealand and everywhere I’ve explored. Certain knowledge and landscapes will end up in my books, but when I travel, it’s for fun and memory-making. I don’t want to be working!

Thank you, Beth Duke and Random Things Tours.


About the author

Beth Dial Duke is an Amazon #1 Best Selling author and the recipient of short story awards on two continents. She is eyeing the other five. Beth lives in the mountains of her native Alabama with her husband, one real dog, one ornamental dog, and a flock of fluffy pet chickens. She loves reading, writing, and not arithmetic. Baking is a hobby, with semi-pro cupcakes and amateur macarons a specialty. And puns—the worse, the better. Travel is her other favorite thing, along with joining book clubs for discussion. Please invite her to London…England or Kentucky, either is fine. Anywhere!

Please see for more information. Twitter @bethidee

Strange Blood – Vanessa Morgan / #GuestPost #BlogTour #SilverDaggerBookTours @SDSXXTours @eeriestories


Strange Blood

71 Essays on Offbeat and Underrated Vampire Movies

This is an overview of the most offbeat and underrated vampire movies spanning nine decades and 23 countries. Strange Blood encompasses well-known hits as well as obscurities that differ from your standard fang fare by turning genre conventions on their head. Here, vampires come in the form of cars, pets, aliens, mechanical objects, gorillas, or floating heads. And when they do look like a demonic monster or an aristocratic Count or Countess, they break the mold in terms of imagery, style, or setting. Leading horror writers, filmmakers, actors, distributors, academics, and programmers present their favorite vampire films through in-depth essays, providing background information, analysis, and trivia regarding the various films. Some of these stories are hilarious, some are terrifying, some are touching, and some are just plain weird. Not all of these movies line up with the critical consensus, yet they have one thing in common: they are unlike anything you’ve ever seen in the world of vampires. Just when you thought that the children of the night had become a tired trope, it turns out they have quite a diverse inventory after all.



Guest Post



Reading a book or watching a movie is always better with some cookies at hand’s reach. And since you’re going to read a book on vampire movies, why not pair them with vampire cookies?


round peanut butter cookies


edible eyes

red and white edible decorating gel


Melt the chocolate in the microwave in 30 second increments

Dip the peanut butter cookies in the melted chocolate and place on parchment paper to harden

Add edible eyes while the chocolate is still melted

Use decorating gel to add a mouth and vampire teeth

Thank you, Vanessa Morgan and Silver Dagger Book Tours.


About the Author

Vanessa Morgan is the author of several fiction and non-fiction books in the horror genre. Three of her stories (The Strangers Outside, Next to Her and A Good Man), have become movies. When she’s not working on her latest book, you can find her reading, watching horror movies, digging through flea markets, or photographing felines for her blog Traveling Cats (

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Aurelia – Alison Morton / #Extract #BlogTour #RomaNovaSeries #Aurelia #RandomThingsTours @annecater @alison_morton


Late 1960s Roma Nova, the last Roman colony that has survived into the 20th century Aurelia Mitela is alone – her partner gone, her child sickly and her mother dead – and forced to give up her beloved career as a Praetorian officer. But her country needs her unique skills. Somebody is smuggling silver – Roma Nova’s lifeblood – on an industrial scale. Sent to Berlin to investigate, she encounters the mysterious and attractive Miklós who knows too much and Caius Tellus, a Roma Novan she has despised and feared since childhood. Barely escaping a trap set by a gang boss intent on terminating her, she discovers that her old enemy is at the heart of all her troubles and pursues him back home to Roma Nova…






(Chapter 2)

‘One more run should do it,’ I said. ‘Get the troops formed up, Senior Centurion Numerus, if you please.’ I squeezed my gloved hands together hard and released them in the hope of stimulating some warmth in my fingers. And I felt the first touches of sleet on my face as I looked round the grey walls of the mountain valley. At least we’d been warm overnight in the winter hut and had stomachs full of hot field rations. But despite our mountain gear with fur-lined hoods and dark goggles protecting against the high-altitude sunlight, the icy wind found exposed skin and froze it numb.

Thank the gods this was our only permeable frontier, but curse them it was this high and cold. We were nominally at peace with all other nations around us, although the Reds in the East continually attempted to infiltrate. As a tiny country wedged in between the Italian Federation to the south-west and New Austria to the north, we were vulnerable. Our vigilance and electronic barriers were our joint protection. For my money, I would have kept a watchful eye on the Prussians to the north, but I was a mere soldier.

Numerus saluted and beckoned his NCOs over to receive their orders and assemble the patrol groups. Gamma Troop had set off straight after breakfast back to base with a truckload of prisoners, mainly smugglers, but also a couple of Balkanites looking for a better life. Minutes later, thirty-six soldiers stood in three groups of four by three deep in the lee of the hut. None of them showed any reaction to the cruel weather. Numerus’s runner, Mercuria, a petite young woman lost in the folds of her winter uniform parka, handed me the deployment list.

We moved out at 09.00 with full backpacks, forty-eight more hours on the mountainside in front of us. Beta and Delta were west and east respectively of my Alpha Troop. An hour later, with snow falling lightly, we were creeping along behind the ridge overlooking the track we’d patrolled five days ago when I heard a thud below.

‘Scheiß Schnee!’

‘Halt’s Maul,’ hissed another voice.

Germanic, standard, a faint Prussian twang. I hadn’t heard it for years.

I brought my hand across in an abrupt cut-off gesture. We stopped dead. What in Hades were they were doing up here on one of the highest, and most treacherous passes?

I signalled Numerus to take four troops to head them off. The senior optio I signalled to take her group up to the high point above the mountain pass the two were heading for. I would spring the trap from behind. Motionless, we listened to their heavy footsteps, smashing down on the crisp snow as they approached. When we saw the plumes from their breath, we pounced.

In the end, it was ridiculously easy. At my challenge, they ran straight into a grim-faced Numerus. Dropping instantly into a crouch, the two men drew black combat knives. The snowlight reflected the thread of silver along the cutting edges. The taller one, his arm bent back ready to force his blade into Numerus, ran towards the Roma Novan at full tilt. Numerus launched his fist like a battering ram into the Prussian’s face before his opponent could make the thrust.

The other one slashed Mercuria’s arm, but was overpowered by a charge from the other two Praetorians. Metallic clicks from above as the optio’s detail readied their rifles and aimed down at the Prussians’ heads finished off any idea of escape.

We stood motionless for a few moments, legs braced, eyes darting around checking for others. The only sound breaking the silence was our breath. Then came a

whoosh, a rustle, a half-sound so faint it could only have been a wild animal scampering away. But there wasn’t any wildlife up here in the falling snow. I signalled silence. One of Numerus’s troops stuffed his gloved fist in the conscious Prussian’s mouth to stop him shouting a warning.

Shouldering my rifle, I beckoned two troops to follow me. Crouching down, and walking like ruptured crabs, we eased along the back of the ridge. I heard it again. A soft crushing sound on the snow, then another. I peeped over the edge, holding my breath so it wouldn’t show. My pocket scope showed nothing, but as I went to withdraw below the edge of the ridge, I spotted a figure slinking away. I signalled my two troops to spread out ready to make a pincer movement.

‘On my mark,’ I whispered into my radio, hoping our quarry couldn’t hear through the snow. I unslung my rifle, counted to three and stood up.

‘Halt!’ I shouted in Germanic. ‘Stay exactly where you are. You have precisely three seconds to show yourself and surrender. Or we’ll shoot.’

The only answer I got was a laugh, a full-throated, rich, masculine laugh. I couldn’t believe it. What idiot laughed surrounded by an armed patrol authorised to terminate? Then I heard gunfire and a muffled curse in Latin. Mars, he’d shot one of my troops. I climbed over the ridge and advanced at full speed towards the point of origin of the laugh. Bastard. I’d laugh at him when we caught him.

A shot and a burst of pain in my ear. Hades, that stung. But I grabbed my breath along with my rifle and ran on, zigzagging to break his aim. Then I saw his figure outlined against the snow, legs pumping as he sprinted toward the next ridge. I pushed myself to my limit, freezing air dragging in and out of my lungs, but he was gaining space between us. I was going to lose him. I stopped, steadied my breath, aimed at his upper body and fired. I saw him fall, then nothing. The snow was in full blizzard now. I trotted in the direction of the ridge, searched for the body, but found nothing. I looked down the slope in front of me and through the thickening curtain of snow saw a figure moving impossibly fast and swaying.



Thank you, Alison Morton and Random Things Tours.


About the author

Alison Morton writes the Roma Nova thriller series featuring modern Praetorian heroines. This springs from a deep love of Roman history, six years’ military service and a life of reading crime, adventure and thriller fiction. All six full-length novels have received the BRAG Medallion. SUCCESSIO, AURELIA and INSURRECTIO were selected as Historical Novel Society’s Indie Editor’s Choices. AURELIA was a finalist in the 2016 HNS Indie Award. SUCCESSIO featured as Editor’s Choice in The Bookseller. A ‘Roman nut’ since age 11, Alison has misspent decades clambering over Roman sites throughout Europe. She holds an MA History, blogs about Romans, social media and writing. Oh, and she gives talks. She continues writing, cultivates a Roman herb garden and drinks wine in France with her husband. To get the latest news, subscribe to her free newsletter

Twitter : @alison_morton Author Page on Facebook

Invisible Girl – Jill Childs / #Review #BooksOnTour @bookouture @author_jill


I know you. I know you in a way you can’t even imagine. I have been searching for you in the years since you wrote that letter – the letter that told me you were looking for me too. But now that I’ve found you, I don’t know if I can say the terrible truth of what I am. It would ruin your perfect life. It would hurt your beautiful daughter.

So, I hesitate – bide my time, for now. This morning, you’re running late and your little girl, tugged by the hand, scurries to keep up with you. She’s clean but a little scrawny. Maybe that’s because you struggle with the bills; maybe she’s just made that way.

I know what it is to have lost a child. I pray you never learn how that feels. But I can’t wait forever… and when I finally tell you my secret, will it break you like it did me all those years ago?



My review

How to deal with a tragedy? Sadly there is no manual for it to help you cope. Some people are strong enough to pick themselves up after a (short) period of grieve. Others however are completely lost and let themselves go. Nothing can bring them back from the deep tearfilled pit they have fallen in and in the end drastic actions have to be taken.

Suddenly you see a little pinprick of light at the end of the long and dark tunnel. Are you being given a second chance? Are you brave enough to take that step or are you too afraid of failure?

This is a beautiful and emotional story about family, grieve, love and new beginnings. It was a real pleasure seeing the past being unravelled and linked to the present. A very enjoyable read. 4 stars.

Thank you, Jill Childs, Bookouture and Netgalley.


About the author

Jill has always loved writing – real and imaginary – and spent 30 years travelling the world as a journalist, living overseas and reporting wherever the news took her. She’s now made her home in London with her husband and twin girls who love stories as much as she does. Although she’s covered everything from earthquakes and floods, riots and wars, she’s found some of the most extraordinary stories right here at home – in the secrets and lies she imagines behind closed doors on ordinary streets, just like yours.

If you’ve enjoyed reading one of Jill’s books, please do leave a review.
For latest news, follow Jill on Twitter (author_jill) and Facebook (Jill Childs)

Author Social Media Links:



The Raven Coven – Emma Miles / #Interview #BlogTour @rararesources @EmmaMilesShadow


Kesta had left her heart across the sea. They were at peace, her people saved from slavery, and yet… her soul was uneasy.

Chem lies in chaos, its people suffering as a result of the death of the ruling sorcerers. Refugees flee the cursed Borrows, begging for help from those they had made their enemy. A Queen unknowingly makes a dark, deadly pact, and new powers rise to fill the seats left empty by the Dunham necromancers.




I hope you enjoy this.


When and where do you prefer to write?

I’m a shift worker and work long hours so I fit my writing in whenever I can, sometimes a quick email to myself on my phone, or a few words hastily scribbled down on paper. With shift work I don’t have a favourite time to write, but my favourite place to write is in my back garden with the birds coming and going from my apple tree.

Do you have a certain ritual?

No, I sadly have so little time for writing I just snatch a few minutes whenever I can. I do make a playlist for each book I write though to help me get into the right frame of mind.

– Is there a drink of some food that keeps you company while you write?

Generally, just water, but I do love a glass of red wine when I write in the garden on a day off. I’m one of those weirdos who doesn’t drink tea or coffee.

What is your favourite book?

It’s hard to pick just one. If I went by the book I’ve reread the most out of my favourites, that would be Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.

Do you consider writing a different genre in the future?

I have several more books I want to write and of those one is Sci Fi and the another is a supernatural thriller.

Do you sometimes base your characters on people you know?

No, all my characters are totally fictional.

Do you take a notebook everywhere in order to write down ideas that pop up?

I have a notebook for every book I write but I don’t carry it with me. Random ideas are emailed to myself or jotted down on a scrap of paper. I used to carry a small dicta-phone with me years ago to record bits to write down later.

Which genre do you not like at all?

I’m not sure if there’s one I don’t like at all. I prefer fantasy and sci fi but love to diversify and try other things, especially if it’s a book that’s recommended or written by an indie author I know who needs support. I’ll read horror, historical, romance, dystopian, biographies… I’ll try anything. I haven’t read many thrillers, but that’s more a case of not having time to get around to everything.

If you had the chance to co-write a book. Whom would it be with?

I would have loved to write with Terry Pratchett. I have ideas for humorous fantasy but I’m not sure if I could pull off the humour part! Of living authors, Robin Hobb, her books are amazing.

– If you should travel to a foreign country to do research, which one would you chose and why?

I’ve already been to Scotland,  Norway, Sicily and Transylvania for inspiration. If I could go anywhere else for research it would have to be somewhere with desert as that’s something I haven’t experienced before. Maybe Morocco.

Thank you, Emma Miles and Rachel’s Random Resources


About the author

I presently live in the stunning county of Dorset where I’m a cat slave to Wolfe and Piglitt. I spend as much time as I can outside in nature and love exploring and learning about new cultures and languages. I’ve visited Greece, Serbia, Transylvania, Sicily and Norway as well as making several road trips around our beautiful United Kingdom. I paint, sculpt, dabble in photography and do a little archery but most of all – whenever I get a chance – I write.
My writing started from a very young age when I often found myself being the one taking charge of and entertaining all my younger cousins. They loved to hear my stories and although they mostly called for ghost stories it was fantasy I fell in love with when I read The Lord of the Rings when I was ten. I went on to write stories and short ‘books’ for my friends through school and college; then one evening whilst I was waiting for my aunt and uncle to visit an image came to my mind of a boy sitting beneath a bridge. I didn’t know who he was or why he was there, but from exploring those questions ‘The Wind’s Children’ trilogy blossomed and grew with roots going back into his far history as well as stretching out to his future. The boy’s name was Tobias.
I have since left Tobias’s world of ‘Naris’ to explore the Valley with Feather in the ‘Hall of Pillars’ which is now available through Amazon. I am now presently finding my way through Elden, the beautiful Fulmer islands, the ravaged Borrows and haunted Chem with Kesta Silene; a shamaness of sorts with a big journey ahead of her. I hope you come along to share her story and join her adventure; she needs you and you won’t regret it.


Social Media Links

Twitter @EmmaMilesShadow


The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club – Ann Warner / #PromoPost #BlogTour #SilverDaggerBookTours @SDSXXTours @annwrite


The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club – Book 1

In Book One of this cozy mystery series, a morose parrot with a reputation for biting sums up Brookside Retirement Community for reluctant resident, Josephine Bartlett. But when Brookside turns out to be a setting for art theft, dodgy dealings, and…naked poker it becomes vastly more interesting. Josephine investigates the unusual goings on with friend and handwriting expert, Lill Fitzel. And the two befriend a young woman Josephine tries to prevent from making the same mistakes she has made.

***Get it FREE!!! ***



The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club – Book 2

Josephine, Devi, and Mac’s story continues. Devi and Mac are falling in love, but a complication comes along in the form of Mac’s pregnant ex-wife. As for Josephine, with the excitement of unmasking the Brookside thief and Devi’s being shot now over, she’s finding Brookside Retirement Community (aka Babbling Brook) as dull as she initially expected it to be. Until, that is, she gets involved with a man who suspects her of being a criminal mastermind. Finding love at this late date is something Josephine never expected, and it’s her Edward Hopper painting that plays matchmaker.



The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club – Book 3

Josephine Bartlett is back, joined by a colorful cast of friends: her partner in mystery-solving, Lill Fitzel, flamboyant ex-beauty queen, Myrtle Grabinowitz, former attorney/current novelist, Philippa Scott Williamson, Brookside’s thief, Edna Prisant, good friends Devi and Mac McElroy, and last, but not least, love-interest Norman Neumann. When new resident, Lottie Watson, loses at Naked Poker, she tells a bizarre story about her husband disappearing in the LA airport. Josephine and Lill, intrigued enough to investigate, discover there are more ominous goings-on than a simple disappearance. Meanwhile, Josephine ignores the mysteries of her own heart.



Promo Post


Thank you, Ann Warner and Silver Dagger Book Tours.


About the Author

Raised in an Air Force family, Ann grew up to be a clinical chemist, toxicologist, and university professor, but her life took an unexpected turn in 2001, when she began writing fiction. Her debut novel, Dreams for Stones, was a finalist for the Indie Next Generation Book Award in 2007. Ann’s novels about strong characters facing interesting challenges take advantage of the many unusual settings she’s traveled to or lived in including New Zealand, Australia, Peru, San Francisco, Alaska,

Colorado, Boston, and Puerto Rico. As well, her experiences as a toxicologist have added fillips of intrigue to many of her stories. In Ann’s novels, the consequence of choosing to love or not to love is an underlying theme, as characters face crises and complications that force them to dig deep within themselves to discover their own resilience.

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Author Links







Crossline – Russ Colchamiro / #Extract #BlogTour @RRBookTours1 @AuthorDudeRuss


“A high-flying adventure of a novel, filled with ambitious ideas and a breathtaking conclusion.” — The Leighgendarium

In the SciFi/Fantasy spirit of Firefly, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Stargate, and Escape from New York…

Hotdog pilot Marcus Powell has been selected to test Taurus Enterprises’ Crossline prototype craft and its newly developed warp thrusters, which, if successful, will revolutionize space travel as we know it.

But during his jaunt across the stars, Powell is forced into a parallel universe — including a parallel Earth — where he finds himself at the center of an epic battle he may have been destined for all along.

Meanwhile, back home, reclusive oil tycoon and Taurus CEO Buddy Rheams Jr. — who sent Powell on that very mission — has a mysterious past and a secret agenda, one that could prevent Powell from ever making it back to his wife and little girl.

From author Russ Colchamiro, Crossline is a psychedelic, action-packed romp across time, space, and dimension that asks the question: once you cross the line, can you ever really go back?






The warp engines were ready for the first of six return blasts it would take to get him back to Earth, when a blip came across the screen. Powell shifted toward the incoming message, but his short-range sensor interrupted him. Something in the Saturn rings. Video amplification revealed that among a cluster of particles was an odd-shaped fragment, with sharper, more reflective edges than he would expect. But he supposed that after debris crashed around over millions if not billions of years, who knew what was really out there? He looked again. Probably nothing of consequence. Just some lagging hallucination from the multiple warps.

As suspected. Just ice particles swirling around the planet. Billions of frozen blue ice particles floating in space that—

Powell focused his monitor on the third ring layer. Studying it more carefully, his sensors revealed that the particle cluster wasn’t in the Saturn ring, but among it. The fragment wasn’t ran- dom, a collection of dust, or some anomalous asteroid fragment.

It was another ship. Looking just like Crossline. And headed his way.

Thank you, Russ Colchamiro and R&R Book tours.


About the author

Russ Colchamiro is the author of the rollicking space adventure, Crossline, the zany SF/F backpacking comedy series Finders Keepers: The Definitive Edition, Genius de Milo, and Astropalooza, and is editor of the SF anthology Love, Murder & Mayhem, all with Crazy 8 Press.

Russ lives in New Jersey with his wife, two ninjas, and crazy dog Simon, who may in fact be an alien himself. Russ has also contributed to several other anthologies, including Tales of the Crimson Keep, Pangaea, Altered States of the Union, Camelot 13, TV Gods 2, They Keep Killing Glenn, Thrilling Adventure Yarns, Camelot 13, and Brave New Girls.

He is now working on the first novel in a new series featuring his hardboiled private eye Angela Hardwicke, and the first of three collaborative novella projects.


Author Links

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The Community – Joe Hakim / #CoverReveal #BlogTour #LoveBooksGroupTours @JoeHakim_ @Wildpressed

A northern coastal city. A sinister, extra-dimensional intelligence is taking hold…

Joe Hakim draws the reader into the heart of a disenfranchised community impacted by strange forces beyond its control. A group of friends: separated by time, choices, and circumstance are reunited by their shared encounters with an uncanny presence that looms over their lives. The seeds were sewn in their childhoods, now they must try and understand what is happening, before it is too late.

Raw and uncompromising, The Community fuses social commentary with a dose of sci-fi horror, to cast a light on an existence spent in the Void.

Publisher’s note: this book contains strong language and explicit sexual references.



Cover Reveal


Thank you, Joe Hakim and Love Books Group Tours


About the author

Joe Hakim lives and works in Hull.

He’s performed spoken word at venues and festivals around the UK, including Latitude, Big Chill and Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

He was co-host and organiser of Write to Speak, (Hull Truck Theatre 2009 to 2013).

He is currently working with schools in Hull as part of First Story.

In January 2017, Joe travelled to Trinidad with The Roundhouse and Wrecking Ball Press, as part of the Talking Doorsteps project. This culminated in a performance at the BBC’s Contains Strong Language festival in September 2017, which featured young people from Trinidad’s 2 Cents Movement working alongside young people from Hull’s Warren Youth Project and Goodwin Community Centre.

Theatre work includes co-writing and developing Omni-Science with Brick by Brick, performed at Assemble Fest 2017, and Come to Where I’m From, developed in association with Paines Plough and performed at Hull Truck in May 2017.

The album ‘The Science of Disconent’, his second with musician Ashley Reaks, was released in 2018.

Joe toured and performed with LIFE, a Hull-based punk band, performing on the UK leg of the Slaves European tour.