Release Day Blitz ~ Same Place, Same Stars by Katey Taylor ~ Psychological Mystery/Drama, Coming-of-Age, Adult Fiction ~ @kateyltaylor

Same Place, Same Stars

Katey Taylor

Genre: Psychological Mystery/Drama, 

Coming-of-Age, Adult Fiction 

Publisher: Katey Taylor

Date of Publication: 5/13/25

ISBN: 9781732750456

ASIN: B0DYK959FJ

Number of pages: 317

Word Count: 93,000

About the Book:

Twenty-one-year-old Natalia battles a rare parasomnia sleep disorder that propels her to act violently, experience night terrors, and put herself in dangerous situations—all while she’s unconscious.

After waking up covered in unexplained bruises, she lands herself back in a mental facility. Making friends has never been easy, but at Awana, she quickly bonds with her fun-loving roommate Lindsay and falls for Gabriel, a handsome yet severely depressed resident she secretly meets at night.

As Natalia wrestles with the harsh side effects of her medication, her reality unravels, exposing disturbing truths about those she trusts most. Though romantic relationships are strictly forbidden at Awana, Gabriel becomes her lifeline amidst the chaos. To be with him, Natalia must risk everything—including her sanity, and she learns some choices carry devastating consequences.

Filled with shocking twists, Same Place, Same Stars, is a psychological drama that unpacks the many layers of what happens when dark secrets refuse to be ignored.

Purchase Links:  

Amazon     Kobo     BN

Watch the Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGIl0E7DhC4

 

Read an Excerpt: CHAPTER 1

 

No sharp objects. Pack light.

My instinct is to run, but I don’t know how far my sore limbs will carry me.

Apathy is my last line of defense.

I reach for a baggy sweatshirt and leggings. This has become my uniform when I go away, not for any fashion statement but its functionality—it can be easily taken off before my body is searched by a nurse’s gloved hands. The pressure from the fabric causes me to hiss in pain. I carefully step each leg in to cover the tender scrapes and deep purple bruises along my pale white shins and thighs. The bruises are a reminder that I’ve messed up again.  

I drag my worn leather suitcase that’s on its last leg away from our cottage and into the trunk of Olga’s station wagon. She doesn’t say a word as we head out of our driveway and onto the tree-dense highway. The branches are grayer than normal, though it could be my mood filtering the world in a cloud of indifference.

Olga rolls every window down even though it’s a brisk fifty-two degrees. Long drives make her sweat. I think she would never leave our small town if it were up to her, but I remain her forcing agent.

My eyes wander from the pastures filled with cows and horses to Olga and her wild blowing hair that is unusually more silver than black for someone in their thirties.

“So, what’s this ward like?” I ask, trying to break the tense silence.

“Don’t call it that. That’s not what it’s called. This is a treatment center.”

She turns up her classical piano playlist, the one she plays to calm her nerves, then hands me a folded piece of stock paper filled with smiling faces of young adults—those who, like me, are not teenagers anymore but not quite what I would consider adults either. Much like our mental state, we’re something in between.

The brochure states this center isn’t government funded. By the looks of it, it seems far out of the budget of Olga’s ballet studio salary and my unemployed status, but it claims as part of their philosophy that they take on special cases free of charge. Just my luck, they happened to have room for a last-minute drop-in.

After the stunt I pulled last night, I’m sure Olga would be willing to pay any price.

About the Author:

Katey Taylor is a San Francisco Bay Area-based author and published poet, with work featured in online magazines such as DarkWinter Lit, SWAAY, and Fauxmoir. She’s recognized for her ability to address complex topics with sensitivity and depth.

https://www.kateytaylor.com/

https://www.x.com/kateyltaylor

https://www.tiktok.com/@kateytaylor

https://www.instagram.com/kateylta
ylor

https://www.facebook.com/authorkateytaylor/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18688860.Katey_Taylor

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Promising Young Man by Elias Axel ~ @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #PromisingYoungMan #EliasAxel #ComingofAge

Promising Young Man by Elias Axel

Coming-of-Age

Date Published: February 11, 2025

 

 

ADHD Much?

Witty, defiant Oscar tells an unforgettable story of a misunderstood, mistake-riddled teen. Of losing his sense of wonder. Of chasing a lie across America. Of discovering the power of second chances.

Oscar Danielsson isn’t ready for the real world—yet. But he’s 18 now, and everyone’s got expectations. Why not? With his sharp wit and melancholy good looks, his future's as promising as anybody’s. Lie. He’s not like anybody. He’ll take his bedroom over hanging out. Self-medication over whatever his shrink prescribes for his ADHD. And it’s hard enough to get out of bed in the morning, let alone write a stupid paper in time to graduate from high school. If it wasn't for his old spaniel, Enzo, he's not sure he'd want to stick around.

Just when he meets Bette, the weirdest cute girl on the planet, a scrape with the law Oscar’s too out of it to remember sends him blasting down America's highways with his eccentric Grammy. Leaving Bette, Enzo, and all his vices behind is torture. But he'll do anything to ditch the shame. And if they make good time, he can repay his debts to his boss, snag his diploma, and slip back into bed like nothing ever happened. But that would be another lie.

 

If you fell for Charlie Kelmeckis in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Sutter Keely in The Spectacular Now, or Theodore Finch in All the Bright Places, Promising Young Man’s Oscar Danielsson will melt, break, and then repair your heart.

 

Like "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" by Stephan Chbosky and "It's Kind of a Funny Story" by Ned Vizzini, "Promising Young Man" explores themes of social anxiety, mental health, and the challenges of navigating adolescence told from the perspective of a young protagonist as he undergoes a journey of self discovery. Like Colin Higgin's "Harold and Maude," Promising Young Man's story is quirky & intergenerational.

 

Praise for Promising Young Man:

"I love this book. It's a page-turner... I found myself looking forward to bedtime to read it.” —Jill Wine-Banks, author, "The Watergate Girl;" MSNBC legal analyst; co-host, Webby-winning #SistersinLaw Podcast

"Axel is a natural... writes with a flow and energy that is absolutely compelling.” —Chris Canaan, Emmy Award-winning writer; co-creator "Walker, Texas Ranger" (starring Chuck Norris); screenplay, "No Good Deed" (starring Samuel L. Jackson & Stellan Skarsgård)

"At times funny, at times raw, at times so poignant you’ll find yourself tearing up..  It’s a story filled with wrong choices and thwarted dreams but also hope, resiliency, and redemption…” —Maggie Smith, award-winning author of "Truth and Other Lies

"...deeply moving... absorbing... truly enjoyable” —Sarah C. Maza, Member American Academy of Arts & Sciences, Professor of History Emerita Northwestern University

"a powerful story of survival, resilience, and hope... One of the best books I read in 2024." —Nathan Chung (early reader), Neurodivergent, recognized as a Top 50 Global Neurodiversity Evangelist, and a D-30 Impact List 2024 Honoree

"a raw, compelling journey... as humorous as it is heartfelt... the kind of book that sticks with you..." —Hollie Smurthwaite, Author, "The Psychic Color Series"

About the Author:

A midwesterner through and through who writes to ignite sparks in every quadrant of the reader's brain and dreams of visiting all of America's national parks.

 

Contact Links:

Website

Goodreads

Instagram

TikTok

BookBuzz

 

Purchase Links:

Amazon

B&N

Bookshop

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Bewitching Book Blitz ~ Exiles (Reflections of Michael Trilogy, Book Three) by LJ Ambrosio ~ @authorlambrosio #ComingOfAge #Fiction ThereIsAGive@way

Exiles

Reflections of Michael Trilogy

Book Three

LJ Ambrosio

Genre: Fiction/Coming-of-Age

Publisher: Film Valor

Date of Publication: May 2024

Number of pages: 150

Word Count: 40,241

Cover Artist: Seamus C 

About the Book: 

In this final chapter, Ron's story concludes from Reflections on the Boulevard (2023). 

Michael's wish was for Ron to exile himself in the heart of Paris with its beautiful culture and citizens as they protest and fight for the soul of the city. 

Ron's journey is met with life-affirming friendships and lessons along the way. 

The final book in the Reflections of Michael Trilogy, which started with A Reservoir Man (2022).

Purchase Links:

Amazon      BN       Smashwords

Read an Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

A cool autumn breeze, in the twilight, wrapped around our exile who sat on a bench in front of a bookstore that resembled a place we might find in a Tolkien novel. On this street, rue de la Buccheri, was the bookstore Shakespeare and Company. The store itself was famous for housing the books of many great literary artists on their shelves. They also supported any young or old artistic vagabonds by allowing them to sleep in the aisles of the bookstore on makeshift beds when finding themselves homeless.

Ron, who managed the store, sat on this bench every evening thinking of Michael. Ron thought of things he remembered and how much he learnt from Michael. He felt the emptiness in his soul, yearning to have that connection just one more time. He had lived in Paris for six years now, a brief time for an exile, yet he was free from a society drowning in untruths; his refuge was the bookstore.

Just like every night, as Ron prepared to close the store, he occasionally checked the front of the store, looking for his friend. Then, he noticed another young man still looking at books on the outside shelves.

Ron moved outside to get a closer look at the late customer under the guise of moving the outdoor book bins back inside. He suddenly noticed that the young man was putting a book down his pants.

Ron raised his voice and shouted for the thief to put the book back on the shelf. The young man, caught in the act, ran away.

The young man sprinted and tripped while running past the café. In this stumble, he decided to turn the corner and make his way rapidly toward la Seine.

Ron, weak in the legs from forgetting the spirit of his youth, had been managing bookstores more than living life. His legs pumped forward. but with the awkwardness of an old man who had forgotten how to walk. In a few seconds he was up to speed and ran faster to catch the thief.

Near the corner, Ron had missed his opportunity to slow and check for other people walking, so he slammed into a group of women. He especially blasted into an old lady whose groceries flew into the sky, and a yogurt splattered against a wall and the faces of the other women. She turned to condemn her assailant, but he was already on the next block in pursuit of the thief.

He spotted the thief at the Notre Dame Hotel, out of breath, leaning against a pillar. Surprised at the thief’s choice to stop here, he slowed down and let his feet pound the street into a halt.

Ron grabbed at him but still missed his shoulder.

“Give me the book back!” he said, very loudly.

The thief just shrugged his shoulder, a mocking smile. His smile made the act of chasing him through the streets feel silly, as if this were a game that had been played and he took it too seriously.

The thief looked at Ron and asked, sarcastically, “What language are you speaking?”

“What do mean? I am speaking French!”

Our thief laughed, turned to a random man who walked down the street, and said, "This young man thinks he is speaking French Go ahead say something to this stranger; he will tell you are speaking some other language other than French!”

“I will call the police,” Ron said firmly.

About the Author:

Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. Ambrosio taught at 7 Universities. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.

Website: https://www.ljambrosio.com/ 

Blog: https://ljambrosio.blogspot.com/ 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorlambrosio

TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@ljambrosioauthor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ljambrosioauthor/ 

Author Bookstore: https://payhip.com/LJAMBROSIO

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22516285.L_J_Ambrosio

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Book Feature & #Giveaway ~ River of Ashes by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor @AlexandreaWeis ~ @partnersincr1me ~ Southern Gothic / Psychological Thriller / Coming-of-Age

River of Ashes

by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor

August 1-31, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

About the Book:

*Apple’s Most Anticipated Books for Summer in Mysteries & Thrillers*

SOME TRUTHS ARE BETTER KEPT SECRET. SOME SECRETS ARE BETTER OFF DEAD.

Along the banks of the Bogue Falaya River, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river. And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux. The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Star quarterback. Handsome. Charming. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch. He is also a psychopath.

A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the haunted abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize. As the victim toll mounts, it becomes clear that someone must stop Beau Devereaux. And that someone will pay with their life.

River of Ashes is a Southern Gothic, Psychological Thriller inspired by true events in the vein of V.C. Andrews with elements of Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn and You by Caroline Kepnes. River of Ashes addresses social issues including sexual violence and bullying.

Praise for River of Ashes:

"River of Ashes offers an inside look into the mind of a psychopath—a cautionary tale that the scariest monsters are the ones you know but never suspect."

Pearry Teo, PhD; Award-Winning Director of The Assent, Executive Producer of Cloud Atlas

"A psychological portrait akin to Lord of the Flies."

Midwest Book Review

"If Gillian Flynn and Bret Easton Ellis had a book baby, it would be River of Ashes."

~Booktrib

Book Details:

Genre: Southern Gothic / Psychological Thriller / Coming-of-Age
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication Date: August 2nd 2022
Number of Pages: 284
ISBN: 1645480984 (ISBN13: 9781645480983)
Series: St. Benedict #1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | IndieBound

Read an Excerpt:

Leslie turned off Main Street and headed along the single-lane road. The storefronts gave way to homes with colorful gardens and oaks draped with tendrils of Spanish moss. Then the houses grew sparse and disappeared as greenery hugged the side of the road. Leslie slowed to avoid a pothole and heard the rush of the Bogue Falaya River through the open windows.

The trees thinned, revealing the two stone spires of The Abbey. Apprehension snaked through her as she pictured Beau, her sister, and all the unsettling things she associated with the derelict church.

A wall of dense red buckeye bushes swaying in the breeze shrouded the road. Leslie drove through an opening someone carved out long ago. A cleared lot lay hidden beyond the dense hedge, surrounded by thick pines and oaks, with paths leading down a steep embankment to the river’s edge.

Leslie got out of the car, listening to the sweet refrain of birds in the trees. “No one’s here today.”

“It’s still too early. Everybody from school likes to come after dark.” Derek led her to a pine-straw-covered path and to the shore of the rushing river.

Something moved in the dense underbrush. Leslie walked ahead, trying to get a better look. “What’s that?”

She crossed several broken branches until she stumbled on something nestled in the foliage. The stench of rotting flesh hit her nose. She gagged and slowed to a stop.

“Wait, be careful.” Derek swept aside a few leafy twigs to get a better look.

Flies covered the bloated belly of a white-tailed deer. Deep grooves slashed into what remained of the deer’s neck. The poor animal’s hindquarters appeared torn away.

Leslie crept closer. “What could do such a thing?”

Derek took her hand and backed out of the brush. “I bet it was the wild dogs.”

Leslie let him lead her away from the stench. “What wild dogs?”

He stopped outside of the brush. “They’re around here. A couple of weeks ago, Mom said some hunters came in the diner and reported seeing them.”

“Where did they come from?” Leslie’s voice shook.

Derek guided her to a path curving down a long slope. The roar of the river grew louder.

“There are lots of stories. I heard they were left behind when the monks abandoned the place. Legend has it that when they appear, death is near.”

A shudder ran through her.

Derek tugged Leslie’s hand. “Come on.”

The path widened, and a beach came into view. The outcropping of white sand had a collection of green picnic tables, red barrel trash cans, and fire pits along the river’s edge. Around the beach, thick brush covered the shore with limbs from pine trees dipping into the water. The sun sparkled on the gentle waves.

Leslie followed him along the shoreline until they came to a rusted iron gate with a No Trespassing sign secured to it. The sign, decorated with crosses and swirls, marked the entrance to The Abbey grounds. Stepping through the open gate, she peered up at the imposing structure.

Two spires of white limestone, shaped like the tip of a sword, cut into the blue sky. A structure of red brick and limestone, the front windows and doors secured with loose scraps of plywood, sat in the middle of a field of high grass. The squat stone building of cloisters behind The Abbey remained intact. The Benedictine monks, who had run the seminary and were responsible for the preparation of future priests, demolished the dormitories, refectory, and library after they abandoned the site. The rest remained because, in the South, it was considered bad luck to tear down churches.

“Some place, huh?” Derek let go of her hand and ventured across the high grass.

A wave of panic shot through Leslie.

The grounds, unkempt after years of neglect, were a hodgepodge of weeds, overgrown trees, and vines.

Why would people come here at night?

“You ever wonder why those monks just up and left?” Leslie was uncomfortable with the eerie quiet. Even the birds had stopped singing. “Everyone says they got a better offer from the seminary in New Orleans, but it seems funny a bunch of people abandoned the place for no reason.”

Derek parted a thick pile of tall grass with his shoe. “My mom told me it was falling apart when she was a kid, and the Archdiocese didn’t have the money to fix it. So, they packed up the school and sent the monks and all the staff to New Orleans.”

“I read once that the structure dates back to the early 1800s, when the Devereaux family built it as a private church.” Leslie eyed the empty belfry atop one of the square-shaped towers. “You’d think they’d want to save it.”

Derek nudged her with his elbow. “Maybe the ghost drove them away.”

Beau’s tale had been in the back of her mind the whole time, but Derek’s comment spooked the crap out of her. “By ghost, do you mean the lady in white?”

“Yep.” He scanned the land around them. “They say she appears when the moon is full or during storms.”

The thought of being alone in such a disturbing place terrified her. “Have you ever seen the ghost?”

Derek searched the thick foliage ahead of them. “Nah. I’ve never seen anything.”

Granite steps appeared as they drew near the entrance.

Leslie kicked herself for letting him talk her into coming to this place. “What about the wild dogs? Have you seen them around The Abbey?”

“Not to worry, love, I’ll protect you from ghosts, wild dogs, and Beau Devereaux.” He climbed the steps, encouraging her to join him. “But I have to draw the line at your mother. There’s no way I’m taking her on in a fight.”

On the porch, beneath the cracked and chipped stone arch above the doors, she waited while Derek wrestled with the plywood covering the entrance. Despite the creep factor, the lush green trees surrounding them had a soothing effect. Leslie breathed in the fresh pine scent and mossy aroma of the tall grass. Then a fly zipped past her face.

Thud.

She turned and discovered Derek had pushed a large piece of plywood securing the door out of the way, leaving a nice-sized gap to crawl through.

“How did you do that?”

Derek held the plywood to the side for her. “The loose boards have been rigged to open easily.”

Leslie dipped her head and looked through the doorway. “You sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t, love.”

His smile won over her fears.

Once inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Pinpoints of light shone on a floor covered with clumps of debris. In the roof, thousands of holes, some big and some small, littered the space between the bare beams where parts of plaster had fallen away. Birds’ nests of light-colored hay and twigs nestled against blackish beams and shadowy eaves, creating a patchwork design on the ceiling. It reminded Leslie of the quilt her grandmother had made for her as a child.

Derek appeared, shining a beam of light on the floor.

She pointed at the flashlight. “Where did you get that?”

“Me and the guys have been here a few times. We’ve stashed stuff around the place. We even have sleeping bags and water bottles socked away.”

Here she was a nervous wreck while his friends had turned it into their personal campground. Leslie’s skin crawled at the idea of spending the night in such a place. “I don’t know why you guys come here.”

He took her hand, and the beam bounced on the dusty floor. “I don’t get why you’re so freaked out. It’s just an old building. There’s nothing sinister about it.”

Beau’s words about taking her to The Abbey sent a shiver down her spine. Any girl would be at his mercy in such a place. She questioned her sister’s choices, knowing she’d been there with Beau.

Derek swung the light across the floor, shining it on dozens of rotted pews, leaves, twigs, crumbled plaster pieces from the ceiling, and skeletons of dead birds. “Lots of animals use this place as shelter. I’ve seen possums, raccoons, deer, and once, I swear I saw a black leopard running out the back.”

Leslie became even more uneasy about being in the building. “You wouldn’t happen to have a shotgun in your stash.”

“The animals don’t bother me, just the people.”

Their footfalls echoed through the vast structure as they ventured farther. Leslie kept expecting someone or something to jump out from the shadows. Her only distraction was the intricate carvings atop the arches and the paintings on the walls. Men and angels exchanged timid glances as rays of light from parting clouds shined down.

Paintings of Noah and the flood, Adam and Eve, and other Genesis stories were barely visible on the white plaster covering the arches along the central aisle. In one spot, where the roof remained intact, she could make out the image of Moses holding the Ten Commandments. His eyes stood out the most. It was like they carried the burning wrath of God.

Shivering, Leslie looked ahead to a white archway marking the entrance to the altar. The gleam of the limestone appeared pristine. She got closer to the most sacred part of the old church, and her sense of dread rose. She spun around to face the scattered, rotting pews behind them.

“What is it?” Derek asked, taking her hand.

His voice rattled inside the hollows of the church, adding to her anxiety. They stood under the circular dome where the altar had once been, and then a low growl came from a shadowy corner.

The air left her lungs. Her senses heightened. Seconds ticked by while she listened for other sounds. “Tell me you heard that.”

Derek raised his finger to his lips and nodded to a door on his left.

***

Excerpt from River of Ashes by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor. Copyright 2022 by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor. Reproduced with permission from Vesuvian Books. All rights reserved.

 

 

Meet Our Authors:

Alexandrea Weis

Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is an IPPY Award-Winning author, advanced practice registered nurse, and wildlife rehabber who was born and raised in the French Quarter. She has taught at major universities and worked with victims of sexual assault, abuse, and mental illness in a clinical setting at many New Orleans area hospitals. She is a member of the International Thriller Writers Organization and Horror Writers Association. The Strand Magazine said, “Alexandrea Weis is one of the most talented authors around, and in a short time her novels are destined to stand along with authors such as Stephen King, Gillian Flynn, Joyce Carol Oates, and Jeffery Deaver.”

Catch Up With Alexandrea Weis:
AlexandreaWeis.com
StBenedictSeries.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @AlexandreaWeis
Instagram - @AlexandreaWeis
Twitter - @AlexandreaWeis
Facebook - @AuthorAlexandreaWeis

 

Lucas Astor

Author Lucas Astor is an award-winning author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but next door behind a smiling face. Astor currently lives outside of Nashville, TN.

Catch Up With Lucas Astor:
LucasAstor.com
Instagram - @lucasastorauthor

 

 

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