Grave Wind by Janice Tremayne ~ @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #GraveWind #JaniceTremayne #Horror

Grave Wind by Janice Tremayne

Haunting Dahlia Series, Book One

Horror, Supernatural, Paranormal

Date Published: June 30, 2025

A cursed lighthouse, a malevolent shapeshifter, and a deadly game. One life-altering decision could seal their fate.

In Solitary Island, Australia. A malevolent shapeshifter haunts a storm-battered lighthouse. When Dahlia confronts an ancient secret, she must make a life-or-death sacrifice to save herself and Paranormal Jack from a terrifying entity trapped between worlds.

Caught in a twisted game, Dahlia is forced to make an impossible choice—one of them must die for the other to survive.

As Paranormal Jack fights to escape the lighthouse's sinister grip, he must explore the human fear of death and what lies beyond to uncover the horrifying truth. Betwixt has been claiming the souls of those who enter the lighthouse for centuries, and its curse runs deep.

As fate hangs in the balance, Dahlia must uncover the dark history of the Island and make a desperate bid before the evil grave wind takes hold.

Grave Wind is the first book in the Haunting Dahlia series. This riveting tale, packed with unforgettable characters, heart-pounding paranormal investigations, and shocking twists, will leave readers spellbound. If you were hooked by the eerie tension of Dean Koontz's Phantoms, this electrifying story is must-read.

About the Author:

Janice Tremayne, hailing from Australia, is a celebrated author specializing in supernatural horror. Her novel "Haunting in Hartley" achieved finalist status in the Readers' Favorite 2020 International Book Awards in the category of fiction-supernatural, clinching the prestigious Distinguished Favorite Prize for paranormal horror at the New York City Big Book Awards. Janice's literary prowess was further acknowledged with the silver medal at the IPPY Awards 2021 in the Australia/New Zealand/Pacific Rim – Best Regional Fiction category, as well as the Bronze Award in Adult Fiction at the Wishing Shelf Independent Book Awards 2020. In 2023, she secured the Literary Titan Gold Book Award, a testament to her excellence in writing.

Residing in Melbourne with her family, Janice intricately weaves cultural superstitions into her narratives, drawing from her upbringing where such beliefs were deeply embedded in daily life and customs. Her bestselling series, "Haunting Clarisse," has consistently soared to the top of Amazon Kindle rankings, captivating readers with its blend of occult supernatural, ghosts, haunted houses, and British horror.

Janice's journey as an author began with a simple cup of coffee, sparking the inspiration to translate her fascination with cultural superstitions into gripping tales of horror. Her books are renowned for delivering heart-thumping, bone-chilling, and thought-provoking paranormal experiences, each narrative offering a fresh twist that keeps readers enthralled worldwide.

Stay updated on Janice Tremayne's latest releases by following the author.

 

Contact Links:

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Purchase Link:

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The Brothers Brown by R.G. Stanford ~ @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #TheBrothersBrown #RGStanford #BiographicalFiction

The Brothers Brown by R.G. Stanford

Native American Literature, Family Saga Fiction, Western, Biographical Fiction, Western

Date Published: 06-01-2025

You can almost feel the red dust clinging to your skin and catch the faint scent of jasmine in the air. This is Indian Territory at the edge of everything—law and lawlessness, hope and heartbreak, where the lines between right and wrong blur with every sunset.

Told with vivid detail, this is the story of a man caught between loyalty and his past, between a brother’s shadow and the light of his own becoming. A tale of love, betrayal, and the quiet courage it takes to change your fate.

From a stagecoach town in Tennessee to the first railroad towns of the Indian Territory, we delve into the lives of the charismatic and flawed brothers, Matt and Robert. Their sibling dynamic shapes the lives of the entire Brown family, steering them down a road of familial struggles and cultural clashes.

Matt always idolized his oldest brother, Robert – a smooth-talking charmer who taught him at a young age to live hard and win big. Following Robert’s footsteps, Matt is drawn into a life of high-stakes games and deception. Then he meets Milla. Sharp-eyed, brave, and unafraid to speak the truth, Milla is a woman rooted in her Choctaw heritage, carrying both strength and sorrow in equal measure. For the first time, Matt imagines a different future. But the past doesn’t let go easily and buried secrets never stay buried for long, clawing their way back to the surface when you least expect it. Now, Matt must choose between what consumes him and the life he wants to build. 

Set against the raw beauty of the Choctaw Nation, this is a powerful story of blood ties and hard choices, of the people we love and the ones we betray. Gritty, tender, and unforgettable—this is where redemption begins.

Read an Excerpt:

 

Albert kicked the door once, twice.

The window lit up with the light of a lamp. Through the window he saw Milla jump out of bed. He kicked the door harder.

Milla wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stood at the bedroom door. “I told you I don’t want you here anymore,” she yelled. “You can just go...”

“Milla, open the door! It’s Albert!” He kicked again, struggling to hold Matt upright. “Matt’s hurt bad!”

She dashed to the door and let her brother-in-law in.

Albert held Matt tight around the waist and draped Matt’s left arm over his shoulder as the pair stumbled across the threshold. “Help me get him to the bed. I’m going for Doc Poor.”

Milla lifted Matt’s other arm over her shoulder and sat him on the bed, holding him steady. “Hurry,” she gasped.

Albert grabbed the coat hanging by the front door and ran out of the house.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Matt?” Milla pulled his coat off and unbuckled his holster, laying it on the nightstand. The sight of his shirt and pants covered in blood and dried mud sent a chill through her veins. He fell sideways on the bed and then she saw it—the cut on the back of his shirt.

“Owww!” Matt cupped his hand protectively over his wound, but the pain was too intense. He cried out again.

“You hold on, Matt. Albert went to find Doctor Poor. You just hold on now.” It was an order.

Matt gasped for air, then spoke in fits of agony. “They... got... Robert.” He strained to sit up and failed. His body fell limp, then he fell silent.

“Who got him?” Milla tried to roll Matt over, but he wouldn’t budge. Gasping at the sight of the blood on the bed, she backed away, hands trembling.

Is he dead?

Did he die?

Albert bolted straight up in bed and strained to listen. What was that? He thought he heard a horse neigh, but all he heard now was the creaking of the loose shutter and his own breath. But there it was again, the sound of a horse.

He stretched to look out the window. And there it was, the shape of a horse in the front yard.

Throwing off the blanket, Albert fumbled for his pocket watch on the nightstand and held it to the window. In the moon’s light, he saw it was near two in the morning. The horse was neighing again, louder and longer this time.

Albert glanced out the window as he slipped on his pants; it was Matt’s horse, Girl. The moon lit the corner of the yard where she stood, stomping her front right hoof on the frosted ground in distress.

In his bare feet, he flung open the door and rushed to the panicked horse. Matt sat slumped in the saddle, unconscious or dead. He couldn’t tell.

“Matt?” Albert touched Matt’s leg, but he nearly slid from the saddle at Albert’s touch. “Matt?”

The blood on his coat and shirt told Albert all he needed to know. It was bad, and it looked like he’d been bleeding for a while.

Without thinking, Albert mounted the horse, wrapping his arms around Matt to hold him steady, and rode as fast as he could to Matt’s house. Doc Poor lived on the back side of the field behind Matt’s place. He would take Matt home, then go wake the doctor at once.

About the Author:

Raised on the beaches of South Texas, R.G. Stanford has always been drawn to stories that transcend time. That passion was ignited in 1976 with the discovery of Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, and deepened with The Feast of All Saints just a few years later. Though historical fiction wasn’t an immediate calling, a personal journey into genealogy changed everything.

With no close relatives nearby, R.G. Stanford turned to online resources in search of extended family. That search became a twenty-year journey through genealogy websites, Federal Census records, the National Archives, and old newspapers. Along the way, R.G. Stanford uncovered incredible stories about her family and the people who once lived in the Choctaw Nation, Indian Territory.

Compelled to record the truth of her family in the lore, sprinkled with imagination, R.G. Stanford is a history lover, a research buff, and a passionate genealogy enthusiast. She is also a mother, a grandmother, and a teller of stories, now living near Orlando.

Contact Links:

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https://mybook.to/TheBrothersBrown

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#BookReview ~ Loving Spirits at the Vintage Teashop by Sharon Booth #CozyRomance #Romance ~ @BoldwoodBooks @rararesources

Loving Spirits at the Vintage Teashop

The beautiful Cotswold village of Rowan Vale is run as a living museum, allowing tourists to see history in action. But there’s more to the place than any visitor would guess...

About the Book:

Fifty-something Shona grew up in the village and now runs its vintage, 1940s-themed teashop. Not everyone knows that the previous manager, her great-aunt Polly, still lives there too… as a ghost!

When newcomer Max arrives, hoping to find out more about the place where his German grandfather was a prisoner of war, both Shona and Polly are unsettled. Shona, because handsome, interesting Max is the first man to catch her eye since her divorce, and Polly, because she must finally confront the terrible truth about her past.

A 1940s-themed weekend planned for the village brings the families’ connections to a head and tragic secrets to light.

Can Shona help her ghostly great-aunt to find love and forgiveness once more, while also creating her own happy ever after?

The second in the comforting, feel-good, romantic series with a dash of fantasy that started with Kindred Spirits at Harling Hall.

My Review:

Loving Spirits at the Vintage Teashop is the second story in the Ghosts of Rowan Vale, a fantastically magical story. While I do own a copy of book 1, Kindred Spirits at Harling Hall, I have not read it yet. I didn't realize I read the series out of order until I was partway through the second book. I dove right into book 2 without a problem, though.

 

I really enjoyed this paranormal fantasy romance. I found the story unique and enjoyable. The characters are fun and entertaining. I loved meeting the living and the ghosts. Rowan Vale village is a quaint town thriving on the nostalgic. The village is preparing to host a 1940s themed weekend in hopes of boosting tourism. If successful, the village discusses hosting various other time period events throughout the year. 

This book focuses on Shona, her ghostly great-aunt Polly, and Max. Shona is long divorced but hasn't met anyone that catchers her eye. That changes when Max strolls into town. Max's reason for venturing to Rowan Vale involves learning more about his grandfather's past as a POW. I really like Polly's character. Parts of the story were upsetting as Polly had to relive her past and secrets were revealed.

A lovely cozy romance with paranormal elements. 

I was provided with a copy of this book. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

My Rating:

Purchase Link - https://mybook.to/LovingSpirits:

Amazon

Meet the Author:

Sharon Booth is the author of feel-good stories set in charming, quirky locations, and now writes cosy romances with a magical twist for Boldwood. She lives with her husband in East Yorkshire, England.

Social Media Links:

Facebook: @sharonboothwriter

Instagram: @sharonboothwriter

Newsletter Sign Up: https://bit.ly/SharonBoothNews

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#BookReview ~ To Murder a Marquis by Arabella Sheraton ~ Regency Time Slip Mystery, Book 1 ~ @ArabellSheraton @pumpupyourbook ~ #RegencyRomance #TimeSlip #TimeTravel

When Jane Carstairs goes to Chelston Hall to complete an archival project, she wakes up in the woods there, only it's no longer 2015 ... it's 1815, and she's faced with the discovery of a possibly dead man…

 

Author: Arabella Sheraton

Pages: 324

Format: Paperback, Kindle

Genre: Regency Romance/Historical Romance/Time Travel/Murder Mystery

About the Book:

Escape into the drama and romance of the Regency era with To Murder a Marquis, an immersive time travel adventure full of mystery and passion. When modern-day Jane Carstairs awakens in nineteenth-century England, she's thrust into a captivating world of lords and ladies, grand estates, and old-fashioned courtship. But Jane soon realizes there's a sinister murder plot afoot. As Jane works to discover the truth, she finds herself entangled in a web of intrigue. Will she solve the mystery in time or fall victim to the assassin? And can Jane resist the magnetic pull of attraction in this unfamiliar era? Transport yourself back to the richly detailed Regency world and join Jane on her unforgettable quest for justice and love. With vivid descriptions, gripping suspense, and passionate romantic encounters, To Murder a Marquis is a time travel adventure you won't want to miss. Embark on the journey today and discover why readers are raving about this unique, spellbinding tale of courage, connection, and timeless romance.

My Review:

To Murder a Marquis is a fantastic book. I loved every single bit of Jane Carstairs' adventures back to 1815. I was swept up in Jane's travel from 2015 back to 1815. Awakening in the same location but in a different century, Jane assumes the role of Amelia, her long distant relative to find the marquis lays dying in the road. It is up to Jane to figure out who wants him dead. 

This mystery pulled me in and kept me engaged. The "accidents" Robert is involved in are daring and too plentiful to be anything but assassination attempts. To keep her time period intact, Jane knows what she needs to do. Keeping Robert safe is action one. Finding out who wants him dead is action two. Not falling in love with a man who is destined to marry Jane's descendant is action three. All three actions are harder to accomplish than she thought.

I run in phases with historical fiction. I have to really be in the mood for regency stories. If I'm not, then the way women were regarded back then really affects my mood and how I perceive a story. I found The Murder a Marquis to be delightful, entertaining, and easy to fall in love with. The setting is vivid and descriptive. The characters so well-written. The plot fleshed out quite nicely. I really felt like I was transported into the book.

All lovers of historical fiction should read To Murder a Marquis.

I was provided with a copy of this book. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

My Rating:

Here’s what reviewers are saying about To Murder a Marquis!

“Arabella Sheraton seamlessly transports readers back to the Regency era, bringing the period to life with rich immersive details and offering a great balance of gripping suspense, vivid historical imagery, and passionate romance.”

— K.C Finn, author of The Mind’s Eye

"A delightful time-travel adventure that transports the reader to the captivating world of Regency England. Author Arabella Sheraton weaves an enthralling tale of mystery, romance, and self-discovery as modern-day historian Jane Carstairs finds herself unexpectedly swept back in time to the year 1815. The vivid historical details bring the Regency setting to life, allowing readers to fully immerse themselves in this milieu of grand estates and old-fashioned courtship rituals. The gripping suspense and clever twists kept me turning the pages, eager to uncover the truth alongside Jane..."

- Clio, Amazon

To Murder a Marquis is available at Amazon. 

Read a Book Excerpt:

Furious barking woke me from a very nice dream in which my ex-fiancé Allan Hunter was on his knees, begging me to stay, and I had just flung his ring back in his face in a most satisfying manner. The fact he’d dumped me for a full-breasted bistro waitress called Tawnee—that’s right, with a double “e”—who clearly said all the right adoring things, had the intelligence of a single-celled organism, and was a tigress in the bedroom was something I chose to ignore.

The dog wouldn’t stop barking. I opened my eyes, and there he was, a beautiful russet-coloured retriever, barking like mad, but with his tail wagging. Still slightly dazed, I shook my head. What the hell was I doing lying under a tree? I was supposed to be in the library at Chelston Hall, helping Dad, who was in hospital in London with bronchitis, collate the archives of the Hadley family. I could almost hear him say, “Jane Carstairs, what on earth are you doing there when you should be working?”

The dog was still barking. I’m not afraid of dogs so I raised myself on one elbow. “Here, boy. What’s the matter?”

I held out one hand for him to come over and have a sniff as an introduction. The dog took a few steps forward, then ran back to his original spot, and barked once. Clearly, a clever canine. He was telling me something. But what? I struggled to sit up. For some reason, my clothes were constricting; something like a straitjacket encircled my chest. Instead of my casual T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, I wore an ankle-length flowing dress, and short lace-up boots, along with a tight, short, long-sleeved jacket. I was in period costume straight out of Pride and Prejudice. Not funny! Someone had obviously pranked me but managing to undress and get me into this suffocating costume was beyond a joke. Plus, how did I get from sitting in a chair in the library to lying under a tree? 

Back to the dog again, which now seemed very agitated. He ran back and forth a bit and whined. By pulling my dress and copious amounts of petticoat up to my knees, tearing something at the jacket shoulder in the process, I managed to stand. The dog ran off through the trees as if on a mission. Maybe someone was hurt, and the mutt was looking for help? Dogs can be so clever that way. Running in the narrow skirt was impossible so I hitched the skirt as high as I could and chased after the dog. Ten minutes later I arrived, panting, at the scene of a bloody accident. Bloody is no exaggeration. A man, also dressed in period costume—riding gear—lay on his back, his arms flung out. He was either asleep, or unconscious, or ... I didn’t even want to consider the last option. The dog stood next to him, its tail wagging. It looked at me, whining as if to say, “Help him.” I knelt and took a closer look. Robert William Edward Hadley, the Marquis of Coleston, lay before me. An arrow protruded from the top of his left shoulder, a massive amount of blood soaked the front of his fawn-coloured coat, and he looked very dead.

– Excerpted from To Murder a Marquis by Arabella Sheraton, Bublish, Inc., 2024. Reprinted with permission.

About the Author:

From Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer, Arabella Sheraton has found both enjoyment and inspiration in sparkling, witty Regency novels. She also loves history and generally finds the past more fascinating than the future. Arabella wrote her first Regency romance to entertain her aged mom who loved the genre. Arabella is honoured to share the adventures of her heroes and heroines with readers.

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Len Buonfiglio Caribbean Mystery Series by Brian Silverman ~ #Mystery @BSsilverman @partnersincr1me

Len Buonfiglio Caribbean Mystery Series

FREEDOM DROP & CALYPSO BLUE

by Brian Silverman

May 19 - June 27, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Amazon | Goodreads

FREEDOM DROP

 

A Len Buonfiglio/St. Pierre Caribbean Mystery

Len Buonfiglio is a former New York bar owner and family man. He has the perfect life until he yearns for more—for something he knows will destroy everything he had, but something he can’t resist. He makes his choice and that, along with a traumatic event, shatters his world. His life and what he had now broken, his only choice is to leave the city and his family. His flight takes him to the remote Caribbean island of St. Pierre where he opens a sports bar that he runs with his friend and partner, a young local islander named Tubby Levett.

In Freedom Drop, a genial tour guide, Rawle “Big Tree” Johns is a suspect in an American woman’s fall from a cliff and held in custody. John’s mother enlists Buonfiglio to help free her son and to prove that he had nothing to do with the woman’s death. Conflicted by the need to spend time with his sixteen-year-old daughter who he hasn’t seen in two years, Mr. Len as he’s known on the island, reluctantly agrees to help.

Buonfiglio’s search for the truth reveals that there are other, much more powerful forces involved in the woman’s death that threaten both his life and his family. In the course of his investigation, he confronts a high-ranking island politician, the local superintendent of police, the dead girl’s mother, and, ultimately, a shady yet powerful outsider investor. Was the girl’s death an accident or did Johns cause that accident? Or was she murdered? The lack of clarity—the mystery of what really happened to the girl—he realizes, reflects the enigma that is St. Pierre. It’s a riddle that, despite living on the island for several years, he still cannot solve.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: April 7, 2025 by Down & Out Books

Read an excerpt from FREEDOM DROP:

Amazon | Goodreads

CALYPSO BLUE

 

A Len Buonfiglio/St. Pierre Caribbean Mystery

In Calypso Blue, Brian Silverman crafts a gripping tale of mystery, revenge, and redemption set against the backdrop of New York and the Caribbean. The novel follows John Saint John, a man torn between his faith, past, and responsibilities as a father, as he grapples with a life-altering decision driven by a desire for justice. As his story unfolds in the shadow of a significant historical event, another narrative emerges—one centered on Leonard Buonfiglio, an American expatriate running a bar on the island of St. Pierre. When a legendary calypso singer, Lord Ram, dies under suspicious circumstances, Leonard is reluctantly pulled into an investigation at the behest of the island’s police superintendent.

Blending elements of crime, culture, and personal reckoning, Calypso Blue explores themes of loss, second chances, and the ghosts of the past that refuse to be forgotten. With vivid storytelling and rich atmospheric detail, Silverman transports readers into a world where music, memory, and mystery intertwine.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: June 30, 2025 by Down & Out Books

Read an excerpt from CALYPSO BLUE:

Praise for FREEDOM DROP:

"An impressive debut…Silverman capably captures the feel of his setting en route to a satisfying conclusion. A sequel is warranted."
~ Publishers Weekly

"Silverman had me at the Caribbean setting, and held me with his fully human characters—of both good and bad natures—and their situation."
~ SJ Rozan, Edgar-winning author of The Murder of Mr. Ma

"A mystery steeped in authentic Caribbean atmosphere. Silverman knows his territory, as does his hero, an ex-Marine-turned-sleuth who discovers that, even in paradise, things aren’t always what they seem."
~ Wallace Stroby, author of Heaven’s a Lie and Some Die Nameless

"A buddy book, a whodunit, and a family drama, Freedom Drop is mystery magic."
~ Reed Farrel Coleman, author of Sleepless City

"Brian Silverman’s Freedom Drop is an exciting and welcome new addition to the crime writing pantheon."
~ S.A. Cosby, author of Razorblade Tears and All the Sinners Bleed

 

Author Bio:

Brian Silverman’s writing career has spanned over 30 years. He has written about travel, food, and sports for publications including the New York Times, Saveur, Caribbean Travel and Life, Islands, the New Yorker, New York, and others. From 2004 through 2013, he was the author of the annual Frommer’s New York City guidebook series. He co-authored the acclaimed Twentieth Century Treasury of Sports with his father, Al Silverman.

His short fiction has appeared in numerous publications, including Mystery Tribune, Down and Out Magazine, and Mystery Weekly. His stories have been selected to appear in The Best American Mystery Stories in 2018 and 2019, and The Best American Mystery and Suspense Stories 2021. His other short fiction has appeared in publications such as Down and Out Magazine, Mystery Magazine, Dark Waters, and Vautrin. Freedom Drop is his first published novel. He lives in Harlem, New York, with his wife, Heather, and his sons, Louis and Russell.

Catch Up With Brian Silverman:

www.BrianSilvermanWrites.com
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X - @BSsilverman

 

 

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Elegance and Evil by DK Coutant ~ Traditional Mystery, Amateur Sleuth @dk_coutant @partnersincr1me

ELEGANCE AND EVIL

by DK Coutant

June 2 - 27, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

About the Book:

A Cleo Cooper Mystery

 

Cleo Cooper left ocean-dipping weekends as a psychology professor in Hawaii to sample life in the high desert of Santa Fe for her sabbatical. With her romantic relationship on the rocks in Hawaii, Cleo falls for Luc, a charming international expert in her field and is tempted to make the change permanent. She enjoys the people, the work, and the sparkling conversations, even if they come with a bite. But, when a wealthy backer of her project is killed, the snarky scientists, artists, and a Saudi ex-pat, who Cleo thought were her new friends, are now at the top of the suspect list. And with a killer on the loose, Cleo finds her life, and her love, in danger.

Praise for Elegance and Evil:

"DK Coutant’s ELEGANCE AND EVIL is a tightly written, fast-paced read that plunges us into the backdrop of a Santa Fe community, so beautifully described, it becomes one of the characters. Celo Cooper is a smart and savvy amateur sleuth who reads people as thoroughly as the research papers she reviews in her world of academia, making her an A-plus crime solver. A cast of quirky characters adds to the book’s charm and had me wondering who to trust until the surprise ending. A big thumbs up!"
~ Cindy Goyette, PSWA award winner and LEFTY finalist author of OBEY ALL LAWS and EARLY TERMINATION of the Probation Case Files Mystery Series.

"Elegance and Evil is crisp, engaging, and subtly atmospheric, blending elements of classic mystery with a modern, conversational tone. DK Coutant crafts a narrative that is both immersive and accessible, using a first-person perspective to draw readers into Cleo’s thoughts and observations."
~ Morgan Hatch, author of Gone To Ground

"Readers will enjoy the balance between a spicy romance and cunning mystery in Elegance and Evil by DK Coutant."
~ Joy Ann Ribar, author of The Bay Browning Mysteries and Deep Lakes Cozy Mysteries

"Cleo Cooper is a fascinating character in this taut, twisty mystery that will delight readers. Hopefully, author DK Coutant brings her back very soon."
~ R.G. Belsky, author of the Clare Carlson mystery series

"When psychologist Cleo Cooper takes a temporary assignment in Santa Fe, volcanic eruptions threaten her Hawaiian home, and her relationship with her boyfriend in Hawaii falls apart. A new love interest emerges, and Cleo soon finds herself at the center of a murder investigation that could change everything. Set against the enchanting backdrop of Santa Fe and filled with quirky, intelligent characters, Elegance and Evil is an entertaining blend of mystery, romance, and suspense."
~ Stacy Wilder, author of the Liz Adams Mystery series

Book Details:

Genre: Traditional Mystery, Amateur Sleuth
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: June 4, 2025
Number of Pages: 288
ISBN: 978-1-5092-6136-9
Series: Cleo Cooper Mysteries, Book 2
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | The Wild Rose Press

Read an Excerpt:

Chapter 1

New in Town

“Are you ready for this, Cleo?” Luc asked.

“Sure.” Beginnings were intimidating. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Luc pulled into the driveway of a traditional adobe house, typical of what I had seen here in Santa Fe, NM. A stocky man of medium-height, with hair pulled back in a small man-bun exited and locked the front door.

“Jon can be a bit insufferable sometimes, but his heart is usually in the right place,” Luc said. Jon was one of Luc’s closest friends, and a scientist who worked at a federal lab nearby. Luc was giving him a ride to the dinner party we were attending.

Jon swung open the back door of Luc’s car. “This should be fun,” he said sliding into the backseat.

I turned and smiled at him from the front passenger seat. “Hi Jon, it’s nice to meet you. Luc has told me a lot about you. I’m Cleo—”

“Cleo Cooper, I know. I’ve heard about you too. Anyway. Luc, did you get my email about the new grant I was awarded?” And Jon rattled on about the mega-grant he’d received for his latest research project.

Oka-a-a-a-y.

Luc pulled away from the curb.

“This grant will cement my spot at the top of the food chain at the lab. The Defense Department is really interested in my ideas on further miniaturization of key components,” Jon said.

“That sounds interesting. What kind of components? And how small do you think you can shrink them?” I asked.

Jon’s gaze shifted to me. “You’re just a psychologist, right?”

“Yes.” But I suspected where this was going.

“Were your parents scientists?”

“No.” My parents ran a diner.

“Then it is a waste of my time to try and explain atomic physics to you. Luc’s parents at least taught him enough over the dinner table that he can understand the basics of my research. But a psych professor from a small university in the middle of nowhere—”

“Hey.” Luc interrupted. “Cleo is a scientist, a social scientist. And she has conducted some solid studies. And I’m a psychologist too. So no looking down your nose at us because we don’t get defense department grants. And, if you’re going to bring up my parents… they claim that any good scientists should be able to explain their work to someone outside the field.”

“And my university isn’t in the middle of nowhere. It’s in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a gateway between East and West.” I was on sabbatical from my university on the Big Island of Hawaii, and I wasn’t going to let anybody talk smack about my island. Maybe coming to Santa Fe, NM to work with Luc for six months wasn’t such a great idea.

Jon sighed. “Whatever. I think I’d rather wait until we get to the party to explain my grant so I can see the look on Matias’s face when he realizes I’ll have the largest grant at the lab. He won’t be able to get rid of me now. And he’ll have to take me seriously.”

We reached downtown Santa Fe and Luc pulled into a parking garage. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. I was usually comfortable in new situations. But Jon’s obnoxious condescension had me feeling jittery. On our short ride from Jon’s house to the garage, his bombastic wit had overwhelmed me.

I’d left a secure, comfortable career as a psychology professor, and a secure, mostly uncomfortable boyfriend, to create a new life. I arrived a week ago, and this dinner party would be my first opportunity to meet people. A lot of movers and shakers were expected, including Luc. I contemplated the man strolling beside me, his striking bone structure and tousled black hair. He was influential in town, and his Institute for the Study of International Relations lined up perfectly with my research.

Luc, Jon, and I traversed a crooked sidewalk that undulated over roots of old Siberian elms. My butterflies flittered again, and I hoped the walk from the parking garage to our hostess’s home on the other side of the Plaza would rein in my nerves. I glanced at Luc. He’d invited me here to work on his project during my sabbatical. I wanted to keep the relationship professional, but his dark, smoldering eyes, broad shoulders, and kindness made my heart beat faster.

Luc must have noticed. “We’re almost there Cleo, not much farther.”

Luc and Jon would know everyone at the party. Again with those damn butterflies. Luc smiled at me as we approached a crosswalk. Jon stepped off the curb ahead of us as a dark grey Lexus turned on to the street we were crossing and sped up.

“Watch out!” I grabbed Luc’s arm to hold him back from the crosswalk. I winced, expecting the car to hit Jon who was already in the street but managed to maneuver out of the car’s path.

“What the… that driver only missed you by inches.” My hands shook from the adrenaline surge. The Lexus ran through a red light as it raced away. “Is someone out to get you, Jon?” I bit my lip as my heart thumped and my mind caught up with the fact I’d almost witnessed someone’s death.

“Maybe.” Jon grinned. The 40-ish nuclear physicist bounded forward to the other sidewalk. His legs bounced with a child-like spring. As he stepped out of the street he threw his head back and let loose a loud “Ha.”

“I guess a brush with death has made him a little giddy,” I said.

“Either that or Jon has been taste-testing his marijuana cookie recipe again.” We took the last steps out of the road. “It was probably somebody texting while driving. You should have looked before you stepped into the crosswalk, Jon,” Luc said. “But, if Cleo’s right, and that driver was trying to run you down, the tough call is narrowing who does not want to knock you off.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself. “How can you guys joke? It scared me to death and I’m not the one who almost died.”

“Who’s joking?” Jon asked with a laugh. But his laugh wobbled. He blinked rapidly. “Luc’s probably right. It was somebody texting, or drinking. But both Matias and Kyle hate my guts, could be either one of them. What do you think, Luc?”

“A tough call. You annoy so many people.” Luc smiled fondly.

We resumed ambling down the sidewalk. The shaking in my hands subsided. I glanced up the street, but the Lexus didn’t reappear. Maybe it was my imagination and the car didn’t aim for Jon.

“Is Kyle still living with Ginger?” Luc asked.

“Surprisingly, yes. I thought she would have tossed him out by now. He’ll be there tonight, as well as Matias, to hear my big grant news. Jon’s grin returned. “This should be fun.”

Luc let out a low whistle, nudging me gently with his elbow. “Better keep your head down, Cleo. Sparks could fly.”

Great. I had hoped to meet some nice people and make some connections, so I wouldn’t depend on Luc to get acclimated. Is everybody going to be at each other’s throats?

“Here we are.” Luc touched my elbow gently with his right hand while extending his left to open a wooden gate elaborately carved with a detailed mural of a Mexican village.

I looked beyond to the creamy pumpkin-colored pueblo structure. Old wood broke the adobe into sizable chunks, so while the house was large, it didn’t devour a guest. Well-trained roses and wisteria wound up far above my head around high frames of mesquite wood which offered sweet-smelling shade. The front door was constructed from some exotic wood, with dramatic zebra stripes punctuated by a natural sunburst pattern in the grain. Bespoke, oversized windows appeared to curve with the walls. I’d never been in a house of such obvious wealth. My confidence faltered.

I looked at my companions.

“You first, my dear.” Jon bowed with a dramatic flourish. “I want someone to hide behind if people start throwing things.”

***

Excerpt from Elegance and Evil by DK Coutant. Copyright 2025 by DK Coutant. Reproduced with permission from DK Coutant. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

DK Coutant graduated from Davidson College with a Psychology degree and initially applied her behavioral training to animals at Sea World, working with dolphins and whales. After a couple of years, she realized that scrubbing fish buckets might get old, and went back to Graduate school to earn a Ph.D. in Psychology, specializing in Cross-Cultural Issues. She began her academic career in Maine. A few years later, she made the jump to Hawaii and worked at the University of Hawaii at Hilo, rising to Department Chair of the Psychology Department. After many happy years in Hawaii, her love for travel led her to make the move out of academics. She accepted positions as a professional geopolitical forecaster with GJ Inc. and Rand Forecasting Initiative. She splits her time between Olympia, WA, Santa Fe, NM, and France, with her husband and an Old English Sheepdog, Beasley. Evil Alice and Borzoi was released by the Wild Rose Press in 2023. Elegance and Evil is the second in the Cleo Cooper Mysteries.

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Knot of Souls by Christine Amsden ~ #UrbanFantasy #UF #BewitchingBookTours

Knot of Souls

Christine Amsden

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Christine Amsden

Date of Publication: May 20, 2025

ISBN: 979-8283019284

ASIN: B0F7Y8YST6

Number of pages: 384

Word Count: 102,000

Cover Artist: BZN Studio Designs

About the Book:

Two souls, one body … 

When Joy wakes up in an alley, she knows three things: she was brutally murdered, she has somehow come back to life ... and she is not alone. She’s been possessed by an inhuman presence, a being that has taken over her dying body. That being is powerful, in pain, and on the run from entities more dangerous than he is.

Shade, a Fae prince on the run, didn’t mean to share the body he jumped into. Desperate and afraid, accused of a murder he didn’t commit, he only sought a place to hide—but if he leaves Joy now, he faces discovery and a fate worse than death.

Forced to work together to solve multiple murders, including her own, Joy and Shade discover hidden strengths and an unlikely friendship. Yet as their souls become increasingly intertwined, they realize their true danger might come from each other … and if they don't find a way to untangle the knot their souls have become, then even the truth won't set them free.

Knot of Souls is a stand-alone buddy love fantasy that forces two very different beings to work together … and come out stronger on the other side.

Free Through Kindle Unlimited

Amazon

Read an Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Joy

The first thing I realized, after I died, was that my body could walk and talk and no longer needed my help for any of it. I was in there, able to look through my eyes and hear through my ears, but even the simple task of aiming my gaze had slipped outside my control. I was a passenger inside my own mind, an observer along for the ride.

Kristen had been right, I thought numbly as I struggled to make sense of my new reality. Had it only been lunchtime today when she’d told me I’d never get ahead if I didn’t learn to assert myself? “Take control of your life,” she’d said, “or others will take it for you.”

She couldn’t have been thinking of anything quite so literal. Whatever was happening to me, it wasn’t because I’d failed to advocate for a promotion at work or refused to ask out a coworker.

Right?

My body reached my car and slid behind the wheel. A rattled thought—not my own—cursed as it tried to understand how the contraption worked. How much can cars have changed in only a century? Visions accompanied the thoughts, memories—again not my own—of a classic car, gleaming black and elegant, its top down, my bobbed hair whipping around my face as I laughed with glee, a white-faced young man at my side gripping the door, begging me to slow down. I did not.

Which brings me to the second thing I realized, after I died: I was no longer alone inside my own mind.

Whoever was in there didn’t seem to have noticed me yet. Fine. I slid into the smallest corner of my brain I could find, ignoring the intruder as they struggled to figure out how to work an automatic transmission. Maybe they’d get frustrated and give up and go find someone else’s body to possess.

Holy shit! I’ve been possessed by the ghost of someone who died in like 1930.

But why?

I tried to remember what had happened, but the images danced just out of reach. I recalled that the night had been unseasonably cold for October, the chill biting through my inadequate jacket as I hurried to my car, parked in a garage two blocks away from the shelter where I’d been volunteering. Hugging my arms around my torso for warmth, I took a shortcut through an alley and …

There was a noise. I’d startled, my heart pounding in my throat, already on edge because of the argument.

Wait. Back up. There’d been an argument. That seemed significant, but my scattered thoughts couldn’t piece it together as yet, not when a bodily intruder fumbled at the gearshift of my two-month-old Hyundai Accent with only fifty-eight “low monthly payments” left to go.

Low is such a relative word.

My beautiful new, inexpensive (also relative) car jerked suddenly backwards out of its parking spot as the voice in my head grew angrier and more frustrated and … afraid. I saw flashes, images I didn’t understand of multi-colored ghosts who seemed to be singing. The more they sang, the more desperate I felt as fear, my own and somehow not my own, made it hard to breathe.

We streaked across the nearly empty parking lot in reverse, almost colliding with the only other vehicle in the place—a red SUV with scratched paint and a dented front bumper suggesting it regularly attracted unwanted attention from other cars. I tried to scream, but didn’t have control of my voice. I tried to hit the brakes, but instead the possessing spirit shifted from reverse to drive without stopping. The grinding of gears made me want to weep, but we came to a stop, breathing heavily, muscles tensed as if in expectation of attack.

They destroyed her. They tore her apart.

I had no time to wonder what any of that meant before the thing possessing my body channeled its anger and grief into a force I’d never experienced or even known existed. One second, the battered red SUV was parked inches from my back bumper, the next, it flew through the air, smashing against a far wall, its frame crumpling like an accordion.

I tried to make myself even smaller, a nearly impossible feat, but I couldn’t let it know I was in here. If it could do that to an SUV, I didn’t want to think about what it might be able to do to me.

Now what?

For one, panic-filled moment, I thought I’d asked the question. Then I realized I wasn’t the only one trying to figure things out.

My car rolled forward again, its speed uneven, first too fast and then—I slammed on the brakes. Well, maybe I didn’t do it, maybe the thing inside me had the same idea as me, but the car skidded to a halt so it just kissed a large concrete pillar. At least it’s just the paint, I tried to tell myself, but rage welled up within me and my fist slammed into the center of the steering wheel, eliciting an angry honk.

An ominous crack formed in the concrete pillar, more evidence, in case I needed it, that the thing invading my body had powers beyond belief. Then came more rattled thoughts that were definitely not my own:

Who thought it was a good idea to build obstacle courses in the sky? Is there not enough room on the ground? Too damn many humans …

Once again, I drew away from the voice in my head. If I hadn’t lost all connection to my body, I’d be trembling, but even so, I felt the sort of cold that seeps through to the soul.

The third thing I realized, after I died, was that the thing possessing me wasn’t a ghost. Or at least, not the ghost of a human.

My car backed away from the concrete column and maneuvered around it to continue the winding path down … down … down to the exit.

Where was my body going and why? More importantly, what would happen if I made myself known and asked?

I reeled at the thought, mentally slinking all the way back to the homeless shelter where I’d been volunteering in the hours before my death. I’d had a crappy day and needed to channel that into a sharp reminder that plenty of people had it much, much worse. Their circumstances, their personalities, their trials and tribulations didn’t fit neatly in the lock box some tried to label and forget, but all of them struggled in some way. They needed help, and sometimes I needed to be needed; it helped me feel less alone.

Tonight, though … tonight there’d been a problem. I remembered having a nice chat with one of the regulars, Roger, big-hearted and with a certain excited energy about him. He’d found a job and was working hard to get back on his feet, but he still couldn’t find a place to rent after being evicted from his old apartment. Now, he lived in his car except when the nights grew too cold, and he was always there to lend a helping hand or just to listen. He had a way of getting people to open up, even me.

He’s the one who jumped in when Thomas started getting belligerent, ranting and raving about false witnesses and evil spirits. The whole thing was so sudden and confusing, I’m not even sure how it happened. One second I’m chatting with Roger about the crappy end to a crappy day—accidentally seeing porn on a coworker’s computer—the next Thomas is in my face, grabbing a fistful of my shirt as he accused me of being a liar, of being in league with the demon spirits, demanding I admit that I could see them too. I was off balance;, I don’t know what I said, I only know what I felt. There was a moment when I looked into his eyes and saw fear and desperation reflected back at me. Then he was being dragged away, thrown out of the shelter …

But he hadn’t been the one to sneak up behind me and kill me. I thought he was, at first. When I heard the noise in the alley, I jumped and looked around, sure it would be Thomas. But it was someone else.

No, not someone else, something else. The thing possessing me wasn’t the first nonhuman I’d encountered tonight. That honor belonged to a blur, a shadow, a … the only way I could think to describe it was as if a small child had found a gray crayon and colored over an otherwise human shape.

I knew I’d died. The bright light I’d only heard about—never believed in—had beckoned and I’d known it was over. Dead in a cold alley; would anyone notice before morning? Who would even mourn me? I had few friends and fewer attachments. No husband or kids, not even a boyfriend. My cat would probably find someone else to feed her. Some might say that was a blessing, not to leave anyone behind, but all I saw was lost potential. If only … the words that would follow me into my lonely grave.

Where had the light gone? I’d seen it, I’d hesitated, I’d wondered if there really was a god after all, and then …

… my body was walking and talking and thinking and acting and I was along for the ride.

My beautiful blue car, none the worse for wear, exited the garage without running into anything else and turned onto the empty city street. Fewer cars might mean lower odds of getting into another accident, although it was clear the thing in my body had little experience driving. It swerved left and right, unable to center itself in the lane, and braked suddenly at a flashing yellow stoplight, which bent backwards in reaction.

That’s when I reached the final—and belated—realization of the most bizarre night of my life. (Afterlife?) If I didn’t take over the driving of this vehicle, I’d die. Again. 

About the Author:

Christine Amsden is the author of nine award-winning fantasy and science fiction novels, including the Cassie Scot Series.

Speculative fiction is fun, magical, and imaginative but Christine believes great speculative fiction is about real people defining themselves through extraordinary situations. She writes primarily about people, and it is in this way that she strives to make science fiction and fantasy meaningful for everyone.

In addition to writing, Christine is a freelance editor and political activist. Disability advocacy is of particular interest to her; she has a rare genetic eye condition called Stargardt Macular Degeneration and has been legally blind since the age of eighteen. In her free time, she enjoys role playing, board games, and a good cup of tea. She lives in the Kansas City area with her husband and two kids.

Website: https://christineamsden.com/wordpress/

Newsletter: https://christineamsden.com/wordpress/?page_id=5091 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christine-Amsden-Author-Page/127673027288664

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1030664.Christine_Amsden 

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