Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Book Blast ~ Convincing You by JM Adele


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. J.M. Adele will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
****Did you know, the author is putting the book on sale for $0.99 through the end of next week, with all proceeds donated to the Australian bushfire appeal. ****



We were connected in more ways than one—I knew it when we met.
What I didn’t know was how close he would bring me to death.
And that death would be a blessing.

Andrea has always been able to tap into messages from somewhere beyond. When she meets Ben, an unrelenting force draws them together. But it’s going to take some convincing to help Ben realise their potential. Ben never thought his friend’s little sister would be anything more than a nuisance. He was wrong. She’d always been so much more. And now, their bond could be severed and her pulse silenced forever.

*Recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content.*


Read an Excerpt

“You’ve gone quiet. What’s wrong?”

I flicked a glance at his nose, knowing that if I looked him in the eye he might see something I wasn’t ready for him to see. Something I was trying to understand for myself before I admitted it to anyone else. I wouldn’t be admitting it to him, that was for sure.

“Hm? What? No, nothing. I’m just hungry.” I hid my hands under the table. Way to play it cool.

One of Ben’s brows inched up.

Tapping a finger on the edge of my seat, I ignored the weight of his stare. The silence was like a wedgie that I couldn’t get rid of.

I cleared my throat and aimed for casual conversation. “So, are you a league convert yet?”

He scoffed. “Never. I was only helping out a friend.”

“If you hate it so much, why’d you do it?”

“I don’t hate it. I’m just loyal to my code.”

“Plenty of players switch.” I picked my brain trying to remember the names Dad had said at the game. “Like, you know, that guy, The King. What’s his name?”

“Wally Lewis?”

“Yeah, him.” I think. He was the only player I could think of.

“Just ’cause The King switched doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Fair enough.”

Ben stood by his convictions. I liked that. My eyes drifted sideways in a bid for some reprieve from his gaze. Two tables away, the boys were slapping each other’s hands, doing some customised shake thing, and laughing like loons.

“They’re good mates.” Ben’s comment brought me right back to those crystal blues.

“They are.” I tilted my head. “Why are you friends with my brother? Seriously?”

His lips quirked. “Stewart’s all right.”

“He’s different with his friends, I guess.”

He hooked an arm behind his seat, twisting his chest towards me. “I know he can be a dick sometimes. He has a weird way of getting attention. He means well.”

The fact that he was defending my brother endeared him to me even more.

“Do you play any sport?” Ben scratched behind his ear like he was uncomfortable talking about Stewart.

I was happy to change the subject. “I dance.”

“You dance?” His brows rose as he leaned back a little. “Like ballet?”

“God, no. I’m not graceful enough for that. Hip-hop is my thang.”

“Your thang?”

“Yeah. Like this.” I jumped out of my seat and gave him a demo—legs popping, arms locking, all while Nelly Furtado and Timbaland sang about promiscuity in my head. His mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out.

Am I that bad? I slid back onto my seat, heat infusing my cheeks.

“You’re good.”

Pulling my shoulders back, I puffed out my chest. “Thank you.”

“No, I really mean that.” He blinked, swallowing.

I relaxed against the back of my chair. Sincerity. Another tick on the list of his good characteristics. I was sure there had to be some negatives.

I already liked so many things about him. His commitment. His discipline. His arse. But if I told him, I’d scare him away. He wouldn’t get it. Not for another few years at least. I wasn’t sure how I knew that either. I just did. The thing was, I didn’t understand how or why it was going to take a few years. And that worried me. What was about to go down that I’d have to wait so damn long to have him by my side?

The air grew so thick, my lungs had trouble dragging it in. I shuffled my butt, fighting against the unbearable tug urging my eyes to connect with his. “It was nice of you to help out the opposition, even though they couldn’t find a uniform that fit you.”

He placed his arms on the table, his elbow bumping mine. It was the final yank in the tug-of-war. My gaze snapped to his crystal blue stare.

A hint of a smirk played on his lips. “It’s no biggie.” Deliberately bumping my elbow again, he set his grin free.

He’s laughing at me! My mouth popped open before clamping shut.

The rest of our group approached through the glass, trays in hand. Their arrival would mean the end of our conversation. Last chance to make an impression. “Yeah, you’re right. Their team lost. You were no help at all. I don’t know why Dad whinged that you’re not a league player. Seriously, you sucked. Stick to what you know, Benji.”

Ben’s grin dropped off his face, and his eyebrows jumped high as he barked a laugh.

Like idiots, we grinned at each other, and something more passed between us. That thing that I couldn’t yet define, but saw behind the gaze reflecting back my smiling face. It was so familiar. I’d seen it before. I knew it.

Unbelievably, his face aged ten years in ten seconds. Suddenly he was a man with the beginnings of wrinkles fanning from his eyes. And I was ... huge. I checked myself out. A wedding ring dug into my swollen finger. My stomach was round and full. And moving. We were both naked. Naked!

My gaze snapped back to his, finding his face in transition again. Light reflected off his bright blue irises, splitting into a prism of colour before swirling and blending into a muddy dark brown. A colour that could swallow you whole if you let it.

“Emmeline.” I saw his mouth move, but it wasn’t Ben. I was staring at a young man with scruffy brown hair, sweat and dirt smeared on his neck. “Emmeline,” he pleaded.

Who was Emmeline? Who was he?

About the Author:
Author of smart, sexy characters, J.M. Adele loves to flit between the dark and light sides of romance. Somewhere along the way an almost constant procession of imaginary characters settled into her thoughts and she picked up a pen to share their stories.

She lives in Queensland with her three greatest loves, her children. When she’s not writing or being a mum, you might find her hiking up a mountain, singing in the car when nobody is looking, or curled up with a good book.

Author Links:

Website - https://www.jmadele.org/
Newsletter - https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/g1p2t7
Reader Group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/JMsGemsters/
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorjmadele
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/j.m.adele/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/JMAdeleBooks
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com.au/jmadele/pins/
YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/JMAdele
BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/j-m-adele
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14553832.J_M_Adele
Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/J-M-Adele/e/B0174OOYJC

Buy Links:

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/49457085-convincing-you
Universal Link - https://books2read.com/u/b6k6K0
Amazon - (Preorder) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082WFS6KJ/

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Wednesday, January 22, 2020

No Easy Catch by Jaqueline Snowe #sportsromance #contemporary #romance


No Easy Catch by Jaqueline Snowe

A party girl and a jock team up in a slow burn, investigators with benefits scheme to figure out how kids are buying their way into school.

Buy Link: 

#sportsromance 

A jock and a party girl teaming up—makes total sense, right? Actually, maybe…

Ambar Hernandez is a senior communications major who has no idea what she wants to do in life. She spends most of her time working on her blog after gaining a lot of readers with a story she wrote junior year and…never followed up on. The last thing she expects is an angry jock accusing her of involvement in a scam that could shake the college to its foundations.

Jeff Maddow should be focused on his senior season of baseball and not the suspicious activity happening on the team. It’s his time to shine and get drafted, but after seeing incriminating evidence, he can’t not investigate. And his first lead is the campus blogger…who’s related to a name in the document he saw.

Ambar’s been coasting, writing about campus fashion and hook-ups rather than politics and economics, but when Jeff shows up at her place spouting wild accusations, she agrees to help him just to prove the stubborn athlete wrong.

Long nights, impassioned arguments, close quarters…both Jeff and Ambar find opposites more than attract when things heat up.

Author Links
https://www.facebook.com/jaquelinesnowe
https://www.twitter.com/jaquelinesnowe
https://www.instagram.com/jaquelinesnowe

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jaqueline-snowe

Book Blast ~ Far Reaching Consequences by Anya Summers


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anya Summers will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Phoebe needs a second chance at life.

In the aftermath of the devastation from her failed marriage, Phoebe returns to her old stomping grounds to open her own bed and breakfast. Starting over is the bravest thing she’s ever done – or so she thinks. But opening her front door to find a blast from her past on her front porch changes all that. The teenager she’d once known has become a jaw-dropping, dominant man in his prime.

He wasn’t looking for a relationship until she blazed back into his life.

Graham runs his own construction business, remodeling homes, and building brand new ones. When his buddy gives him a lead on a new project, he never expects to run into Phoebe, the woman he shared a single kiss with eons ago. Nor is he prepared for the Dominant in him to stake his claim before the end of their first meeting. He wanted her in high school but there had been too wide a gulf separating them. Now, Graham will stop at nothing until he makes her his. But there are larger forces at work, attempting to tear them apart.

When everything Phoebe holds dear becomes a target, Graham will risk it all for the one woman he knows he can never live without.

Publisher’s Note: This steamy second chance romance contains elements of power exchange. While it is the second in the Crescent City Kings series, it can be enjoyed independently.

Read an Excerpt

She opened the door to the small groundskeeper’s house, which was really nothing more than a glorified pool house. It was four hundred square feet, little more than a studio apartment in size. The only thing enclosed was the tiny bathroom. But she had spruced her home up as best she could, painting the walls a fresh, light powder blue and had put her bed near the window to catch the early morning sunlight.

There was room enough for her couch and a small television, plus the eat in kitchen with her small, pine dinette set. She’d painted the walnut cabinets an eggshell white, giving the place a farmhouse look. Daisy made a beeline toward her water bowl and dog bed up against the far wall.

“This is where you’re living?” Graham studied her place without judgement, his gaze assessing the space.

It might not be much, but it was home and, best of all, hers. “Yep. I don’t need a lot of space or things. Most days I will be over at the main house from sunup until sundown, at least until I can afford to hire help.”

If things worked the way she hoped, she would have a hostess and servers for the dining room. Phoebe already had her eye on a waitress at the nightclub to entice to come work for her. While she was confident in her abilities, it would be a juggling act to cook and serve meals in the dining room at the same time. At first, there was no way around it and she would be forced to manage it somehow. But she hoped this place would be successful enough that a few months after opening, she would have the available budget to hire help.

“Have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee? And I have some croissants on the table there, just baked them fresh this morning,” she said, rather thrilled to be playing hostess. Phoebe enjoyed cooking and had found early in life that she had a knack for it. But this was a new croissant recipe she was testing out, and she was interested to see Graham’s reaction.

“It’s barely ten.” He smiled as he sat, facing her and the kitchen.

“I tend to be an early riser. Always have been.”

“I’m the same.”

Using one of her good mugs, she served him a steaming cup of coffee, then brought over all the accoutrements on a wooden tray: sugar, cream, and sugar substitute. She noted that he took his coffee black as night, but he slathered the croissant with her homemade jam.

“Mmm, oh my god.” He groaned, and the sound pinged low in her belly. “You made this?” Graham asked, looking at her and then back at the pastry as if he had died and gone to heaven.

“Yep.” She expelled a breath. The new recipe appeared to be a hit. Graham ate the croissant with relish. Pinpricks of satisfaction flowed through Phoebe. She slid into the seat across from him as he put a thumb covered in jam into his mouth and sucked it off.

Her girly bits throbbed at an unexpected blast of desire that struck her system like a thunder bolt. It had been an unconsciously sexy move on his part. It wasn’t like he was attempting to get into her pants. He was here to earn a potential payday, and work. Yet when he glanced her way with sublime satisfaction in his eyes, across the small expanse of her pine dinette table, her insides quivered—and not with fear.

She needed to shut the gate closed and seal it tight. Phoebe didn’t do relationships anymore. That wasn’t in her plans for her life any longer.

No matter how sinful the packaging happened to be.

About the Author:
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

Website: http://www.anyasummers.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AnyaSummersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/anyabsummers
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15183606.Anya_Summers

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2SmLqWm

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Thursday, January 16, 2020

Book Blast ~ Heroes in Love by David C Dawson


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. David C. Dawson will be awarding $10 Boroughs Bucks to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

NOT EVERY HERO WEARS A UNIFORM

Can love last a lifetime? Billy Walsh and Daniel Richards never intended to be matchmakers. After all, they're only at the start of their own love story. When Billy uncovers a failed love affair, he learns it lasted more than fifty years until it fell apart. He and Daniel see their own fledgling relationship through the lens of the now estranged couple, and they vow to reunite the elderly lovers. But as they set about their task, the pressure of modern life threatens to tear them apart.

Read an Excerpt

Billy was nearly an hour late when he finally rushed down Fulham Road and into the entrance of the Royal Marsden hospital where he ran into a black haired, brown-eyed vision of masculinity. Literally ran into. Publicly crashed into a stunning man wearing a white fitted t-shirt, a linen suit, tan loafers, and stood tall like a catwalk model. Too late Billy skidded to a halt, and into the arms of the handsome stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Billy blurted out.

The vision of masculinity reached forward and grabbed his shoulders to stop him from falling.

“No problem.” The man looked directly at Billy and held on to his shoulders for a moment or so longer than was probably necessary.

Billy wanted to crawl away and hide in a corner. He had never considered himself a cool guy. The roles he played in soap operas as a sensitive-looking young man with an apologetic, hesitant manner were in truth no more than an extension of his own personality. He was uncomfortable in large social gatherings, and preferred his own company.

But this man with wavy black hair, deep brown eyes, and strong arms was someone he would dearly like to spend more time with. Billy struggled to find a witty phrase, a bright piece of banter to rescue the moment.

“Sure.”

Sure? Billy shook his head at the crassness of his response. The man smiled, dropped his arms, and strode off.

Shit.

About the Author: David C Dawson writes contemporary thrillers featuring gay men in love. He’s an award winning author, journalist and documentary maker. His debut novel won Bronze for Best Mystery and Suspense in the FAPA awards, and he has published two books since.

David lives in London with his boyfriend and two cats. In his spare time, he tours Europe and sings with the London Gay Men’s Chorus.

Social Media:

Website: www.davidcdawson.co.uk
Blog: http://blog.davidcdawson.co.uk/#home
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/davidcdawsonwriter/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/david.c.dawson.5
Twitter: https://twitter.com/david_c_dawson
Pinterest: www.pinterest.co.uk/mrdcdawson/heroes-in-love-influences/
Linkedin: www.linkedin.com/in/DavidCDawson

Buy Links:

Boroughs Press: http://boroughspublishinggroup.com/books/heroes-love
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B083QRQ319
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B083QRQ319
https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B083QRQ319
https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B083QRQ319
https://books2read.com/u/3G28pL

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/999639
  

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Wicked Warden by Lynn Burke #MCRomance #contemporary #erom

Title: Wicked Warden
Series: Vicious Vipers 1
Author: Lynn Burke
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: January 14, 2020
He’s the only man my father can trust when the cartel attempts to take us out. A vicious motorcycle gang member, he’s deadly with his fists and firearms.
He’s also the bastard responsible for my mother’s death.
I’m the one who’ll make him pay. A too-young, too-innocent woman he lusts after but refuses to touch.
He might believe he’s strong enough to withstand my plans for retaliation, but I will bring him to his knees and have my revenge.
Even if my heart dies along with his.


“We have to go.” Dad tugged me toward the exit. “Stick to my heels—don’t look at anyone, don’t speak to anyone.”


I nodded dumbly, using my free hand to swipe tears from my cheeks in an attempt to be the strong woman he wanted. If only he’d have offered a quick hug—the thing I always longed for and never received—the fortifying sense of having firm ground to stand upon, to depend upon outside of monetary means.


“The car’s at the end of the alleyway. You’ll get in the back, lay down, and stay down until I say.”


I nodded again, knowing to never argue with Dad’s commands.


One last quick scan of my face and he turned, grasping the exit door’s handle. Dad peeked out head moving left then right. “Stay close,” he whispered, pulling the door open far enough for us to slip through.


I stepped out into the dark after him, my breath loud in my ears as cold bit at my exposed, over-heated skin. Dad’s dress shoes slapped on the sidewalk, my heels clicking as we hurried up the alleyway.


A crowd still stood at the front of the club, but Dad pushed through, people closing back in behind us as we fought to get to the car.


I kept my focus on his tense shoulders rather than scan the crowd for faces I might recognize—my guards, or his men from the compound I’d called home. Every muscle inside me trembled, shaking my limbs. The second we escaped the throng, he headed toward a tan car I didn’t recognize, his head in constant motion as he scanned the immediate area.


Dad grasped the car’s back door handle.


Pop!


“Get in!” he shouted as people began screaming behind us.


He yanked open the door, and I dove in headfirst, my heart in my throat.


Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…


I curled up on the cloth seat, hugging my knees to my chest, trembling from fear as much as the cold.


Another gunshot sounded, and Dad slammed the door behind me.


Please be okay… I clenched my eyelids shut.


A third shot sounded through the ringing in my ears, and I bit my lip to keep from shrieking, curling even tighter into myself. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I held my breath … waiting. Needing Dad to be okay. Needing him to get in the car and take me far away from the shit.


The driver door tore open, and a quick peek revealed Dad hopping in.


“Fuck!” He pulled away from the curb like a bat out of hell, tires squealing beneath us, and I clenched my eyes shut again, trying to still my breathing and calm the fuck down. Rather than spew a million questions and distract Dad as he muttered curses and sped down one road after another, I kept quiet except for sniffles when my nose threatened to drip.


Violence came with Dad’s line of business. I’d learned that first hand, and the aftermath of that war had left me without a mother, left my father broken and shut down toward his only living relative—me.


The only daughter.


The only heir to the fortune and empire he’d built from running drugs with a cartel I wished I didn’t know anything about.


“Shaun!” Dad barked. “Get your seat belt on. Now.”


He swerved, and a car sped alongside us as I sat up. Two men sat in the front, neither of which I recognized.


The one in the passenger seat raised a gun.


“Gun!” I shrieked, and Dad slammed on the brakes.


Lower lip between my teeth, I slid out of the shoulder strap and laid back down, curling up as tight as I could.


Dad stomped on the gas again.


Metal scraped—the car shifted.


Dad cursed low and long…


We sped up. He slammed the brakes again enough to tumble me off the seat had I not had the belt across my lap. More speed, more metal screeching—tears and snot mingled on my face, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.


I’d always thought keeping my eyes closed as a child meant no one could see me, that I hid in my own little world. Untouchable. Invincible.


I’d learned the day Mom died, the closing of one’s eyes couldn’t shield one from the horrors in life.


The car suddenly shifted—spun.


I bit my lip, tasting blood as I whimpered.


Sounds of screeching—metal smashing—a loud explosion.


Our car came to a standstill, silence engulfing the air around us.




© Lynn Burke 2018
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
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Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Book Blast ~ Spring at the Little Duck Pond Cafe by Rosie Green



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Rosie Green will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Fleeing from a romance gone wrong, Ellie Farmer arrives in the pretty village of Sunnybrook, hoping for a brand new start that most definitely does not include love!

Following an unscheduled soak in the village duck pond, she meets Sylvia, who runs the Little Duck Pond Cafe. Renting the flat above the cafe seems like the answer to Ellie's prayers. It's only for six months, which will give her time to sort out her life, far away from cheating boyfriend Richard.

But is running away from your past ever really the answer?

Clashing with the mysterious and brooding Zak Chamberlain, an author with a bad case of writer's block, is definitely not what Ellie needs right now. And then there's Sylvia, who's clinging so hard to her past, she's in danger of losing the quaint but run-down cafe altogether.

Can Ellie find the answers she desperately needs in Sunnybrook? And will she be able to help save Sylvia's Little Duck Pond Cafe from closure?

Read an Excerpt

I have never climbed a tree in my life.

But I suppose there’s a first time for everything.

It’s a gaspingly cold mid-January morning with an ice-blue sky overhead – not exactly the ideal conditions in which to be lurking on the pavement outside a stranger’s house, nervously eyeing up the oak tree in their garden.

Camera gripped in my freezing hands, I stamp my feet and blow out misty breath as I psyche myself up to be bold. I’ve driven sixty miles from Newtown, where I live, to the pretty, chocolate-box village of Sunnybrook in Surrey – with the ultimate goal of climbing this very tree and taking photos of the view from up there.

The tree is almost exactly how I pictured it in my imagination – old and gnarled with broad, evenly-spaced branches. My eye homes in on one branch in particular. It reaches out to the left, a little over six feet from the ground; the perfect place to sit and gaze out over the village green and the duck pond. (As I knew it would be.)

Tears fill my eyes. But I’m smiling, too.

It’s all in a good cause.

Stop dithering and just do it!

When I push it open, the garden gate swings inwards without creaking and the windows remain blank. I drop my bag by the gate and head for the tree.

It’s amazing how fear can give you almost super-human powers. Under normal circumstances, I’d need someone to give me a bunk-up into this tree. But today, with adrenalin pumping through my system, I manage to swing myself up there with no problems at all . . .

About the Author:
Rosie has been scribbling stories ever since she was little.

Back then, they were rip-roaring adventure tales with a young heroine in perilous danger of falling off a cliff or being tied up by ‘the baddies’.

Thankfully, Rosie has moved on somewhat, and now much prefers to write romantic comedies that melt your heart and make you smile, with really not much perilous danger at all – unless you count the heroine losing her heart in love.

Spring at the Little Duck Pond Café is the first in Rosie’s brand new series of novellas centred around life in a village café. Each novella is a ‘stand-alone’ read.

You can connect with Rosie Green on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Rosie_Green1988
Amazon purchase link: https://amzn.to/2W8uXF7

NOTE: Book is free
ALSO NOTE: Readers! You can read the whole series on Kindle Unlimited. How cool is that?

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Rosie-Green/e/B07CZYV7DW%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Virtual Book Tour ~ A Sickness in the Soul: An Ashmole Foxe Georgian Mystery by William Savage


It's a virtual book tour and there are prizes to be won. For what book?  A Sickness in the Soul: An Ashmole Foxe Georgian Mystery by William Savage . Looks good, doesn't it? Yeah. So what can you win? One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. How cool is that? Want more chances to win? Then follow the tour. You can do that here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2019/09/vbt-sickness-in-soul-by-william-savage.html

A Sickness in the Soul: An Ashmole Foxe Georgian Mystery


by William Savage 






“Many people wear masks. Some to hide their feelings; some to conceal their identity; and some to hide that most hideous plague of mankind: a sickness in the soul.”


Ashmole Foxe, Norwich bookseller, man-about-town and solver of mysteries will encounter all of these in this tangled drama of hatred, obsession and redemption.


This is a story set in the England of the 1760s, a time of rigid class distinctions, where the rich idle their days away in magnificent mansions, while hungry children beg, steal and prostitute themselves on the streets. An era on the cusp of revolution in America and France; a land where outward wealth and display hide simmering political and social tensions; a country which had faced intermittent war for the past fifty years and would need to survive a series of world-wide conflicts in the fifty years ahead.


Faced with no less than three murders, occurring from the aristocracy to the seeming senseless professional assassination of a homeless vagrant, Ashmole Foxe must call on all his skill and intelligence to uncover the sickness which appears to be infecting his city’s very soul.


Can Foxe uncover the truth which lies behind a series of baffling deaths, from an aristocrat attending a ball to a vagrant murdered where he slept in a filthy back-alley?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt Three:

Naturally, all this affability ended the moment Foxe stepped into the Great Hall itself. Sir Samuel would have used this as the meeting place to impress his influence and social status on all his visitors, and on Mr Foxe most of all. Now he received Foxe standing, his back to a large fireplace with an elaborate alabaster surround. Above him could be seen the coat of arms of the Valmar family. I may be a man like you, all this seemed to proclaim, but I am not just your social superior. I am a Valmar too. Remember that.

The baronet had dressed himself in a suit of fine brown wool embroidered in gold, over a pale cream waistcoat sprigged with tiny flowers. From his leather shoes with their golden buckles and his spotless white silk stockings up to his freshly powdered wig, he was the embodiment of the rich landowner suffering the attentions of some troublesome tenant. He was also in a combative mood. He launched his attack at once and without preliminaries.
‘Say what you have to say, sir, then get out!’ the baronet barked. ‘I am only suffering your presence because my wife begged me to do so. According to her, you have some important information affecting the Valmar family. My family heritage is everything to me. We Valmars came over with the Conqueror and have been here ever since. In all that time, no one has dishonoured the family name. No one ever shall, while I live and breathe. Now, get on with it — and be brief!’

When Foxe had stood before this man the last time, Sir Samuel had affected an air of complete indifference. Now all was different. What he wanted was to send this meddlesome tradesman about his business; preferably with his tail between his legs. By the end of his opening speech, his face was suffused with red and purple from the effort of holding his temper in check. Foxe noted how the other man’s breathing was shallow, his fists clenched tight and his eyes narrowed with fury. He had expected some such display of temper, but even he was taken aback by the vehemence of Sir Samuel’s attack. Still, he had determined in advance nothing would shake his calmness. He therefore replied in a quiet voice, his words measured and his tone mild and reasonable. To his quiet satisfaction, he observed immediately how much this gentle manner seemed to inflame Sir Samuel even more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~


About the Author:

I started to write fiction as a way of keeping my mind active in retirement. Throughout my life, I have
read and enjoyed hundreds of detective stories and mystery novels. One of my other loves is history, so it seemed natural to put the two together. Thus began two series of murder mystery books set in Norfolk, England.

All my books are set between 1760 and around 1800, a period of turmoil in Britain, with constant wars, revolutions in America and France and finally the titanic, 22-year struggle with Napoleon.

The Ashmole Foxe series takes place at the start of this time and is located in Norwich. Mr Foxe is a dandy, a bookseller and, unknown to most around him, the mayor’s immediate choice to deal with anything likely to upset the peace or economic security of the city.

The series featuring Dr Adam Bascom, a young gentleman physician caught up in the beginning of the Napoleonic wars, takes place in a variety of locations near the North Norfolk coast. Adam builds a successful medical practice, but his insatiable curiosity and knack for unravelling intrigue constantly involve him in mysteries large and small.

I have spent a good deal of my life travelling in Britain and overseas. Now I am more than content to write stories and run a blog devoted to the world of Georgian England, which you can find at http://www.penandpension.com. You can also follow me on Twitter as @penandpension.




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The Ashmole Foxe Mysteries




All https://penandpension.com/my-writing#foxe




The Ashmole Foxe Mysteries http://bit.ly/2Abn1Ks




The Fabric of Murder http://relinks.me/B00W3SDJW8




Dark Threads of Vengeance http://relinks.me/B01FPQ2Q1Y




This Parody of Death http://relinks.me/B06XDNY81B




Bad Blood Will Out http://relinks.me/B079RCVQ4X




Black as She’s Painted http://relinks.me/B07H1SZN37




A Sickness in the Soul https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WF3Y4VJ




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The Dr Adam Bascom Mysteries




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An Unlamented Death http://relinks.me/B00RXGWIY0




The Code for Killing http://relinks.me/B01A2BY1LU




A Shortcut to Murder http://relinks.me/B01M1R78L3




A Tincture of Secrets and Lies http://relinks.me/B075LM2TZP




Death of a Good Samaritan https://relinks.me/B07NLCGK2Y




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