Book Tour & Giveaway: Tunnel of Mirrors by Ferne Arfin – Genre: Literary Fiction @Ferne_Travels @FernearfinReal @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #TunnelofMirrors #Books #BookTwitter

We’re celebrating the release of Ferne Arfin’s novel, Tunnel of Mirrors. Read on for more details and a chance to win a hardcover edition of the book and a signed bookplate!

TunneOfMirrors_eBook_cover

Tunnel of Mirrors

Publication Date: February 1st, 2022

Genre: Literary Fiction/ Contemporary Literary Fiction/ Romantic Elements “Eternal Lovers”

Publisher: Green River Press

Rachel Isaacson, spirited, otherworldly and haunted, is born into a rigidly Old World family in New York’s Lower East Side. Hungry for independence, Rachel enters a marriage of convenience with violent consequences.

Across the Atlantic, storyteller, fiddler and cliff climber Ciaran McMurrough is raised in pastoral innocence on Rathlin off the coast of Ulster. His upbringing in a tight-knit, isolated community leaves him unprepared for the subtle political passions following the Irish Civil War.

Outcasts-one by choice, one by chance-Rachel and Ciaran meet on the docks of lower Manhattan in 1928. Drawn to each other in this lyrical story, must they repeat a doomed cycle as eternal lovers?

Tunnel of Mirrors fires the imagination and stirs the soul…a story to savour that remains long in the mind. I loved it.”

-Sunday Times Bestselling Author of Our Story, Miranda Dickinson

“Humour, emotion, and perfectly tuned dialogue, ensures her people are triumphantly alive.”

-Novelist Janette Jenkins, author of Firefly and Little Bones

Tunnel of Mirrors is a beautiful, lyrical recreation of the past. With warmth, wit and great heart, Ferne Arfin takes the reader back into the struggles and small victories of a lost world.”

-Toby Litt, English writer and academic, author of Patience

Add to Goodreads

Excerpt

Every morning, on the way to work, Rachel stopped at Bessie’s to change from the modest cotton dresses her father allowed into one of the swingy, short frocks that she and Bessie made during their lunch breaks. Then, their hemlines a daring nine inches above the ground, the two girls swanked uptown to their jobs at Mishkin’s, Theatrical Costumiers to the Trade.

Mishkin’s son, Arthur, managed the sewing rooms. He was sweet on Bessie and any friend of Bessie’s was a friend of his, so both girls could count on extra break time for their own sewing. They could count on remnants of fabric, from time to time, as well.

Mishkin allowed his trimmers to keep the beads and feathers swept up at the end of the day. Lately, Arthur, who Bessie kept on a very long leash, had begun passing on the full boxes of beads that were often left over when a show was dressed. These were supposed to go back into stock but Arthur said, “What the heck. They’re paid for. If my old man asks, you got them from the sweepings.”

“You’re a real prince, Arty,” Bessie would say and he would glow for a week. Sometimes she even gave him a peck on the cheek. It was a small price to pay for the very same sequins and beads the showgirls wore when they danced for Ziegfeld and Minsky.

Rachel and Bessie were making special dresses. They had big plans. It was no use knowing all the latest steps, if you couldn’t show them off at the landsmannschaft socials, where bearded old men and everybody’s mother prowled the dance floor. And most of the boys at Corkery’s Shamrock Dancehall thought a good time was slipping a double bathtub gin into a girl’s Moxie and seeing how far you could get her to go. If you went to Corkery’s too often, the regulars started thinking you were a charity girl who would do just about anything for the price of a bottle of pop. Drunken boys were always staggering out of there whistling the tune to I’ll Say She Does. Even though Corkery made his payments, the place got raided at least once a month. Duvi said it was part of Corkery’s arrangement with Tierney, who was the local boss, because it kept the neighbours off the councilman’s back. Duvi always knew about the raids in advance, so the girls never got into trouble.

But now Rachel and Bessie were ready for better things. In the right place, a girl could meet big spenders who were hot steppers and who carried real Canadian whiskey in silver hip flasks. But for high-class dancehalls like Roseland or Dreamworld or Feldman’s Coney Island Palace, they needed real dance dresses.

Bessie thought Rachel should bob her hair. But some things couldn’t be left behind in Bessie’s rooms and Rachel was careful to protect her new double life. “You said you wasn’t afraid of your old man,” Bessie insisted. Rachel couldn’t make Bessie, who never did anything by half, understand that some arguments were not worth the trouble. Or that most of the trouble would land on her mother. Bessie hadn’t had a mother in such a long time.

***

Rachel weighed a heavy hank of glass beads across the palm of her hand. Bugles. The most delicate cylinders of crystal blue and green, threaded on lengths of fine silk. They sparked like a shoal of moon-chased minnows. There were enough to finish.

“And about time too,” Bessie said. Bessie had grown impatient with Rachel’s fussy particularity. Anything that glittered made Bessie happy. While Rachel waited for just the right colours, Bessie had finished her dress and was stringing a boa of pink dyed marabou feathers. She waved it under Rachel’s nose. “Ain’t these just dee-vine?” she said. “Ain’t they just the cat’s pyjamas?”

Rachel didn’t have the heart to tell her she looked like an explosion at bead factory; Bessie was so eager to make what she imagined would be a very grand entrance at Roseland. “Look out fellas, here I come.”

Rachel had planned more carefully, making sure Arty found just what she needed. If Arty ever wondered why he took so much trouble for a skinny Jewish girl, when he was already married to one and when it was her Irish shiksa friend he was after, Rachel did not let him wonder for long. Still the dress had taken months to finish. It was covered with beaded fringe and scattered with iridescent sequins, flashes of silver and the smallest seed pearls that Arty could finagle. From its pure white hemline, it rose in a narrow column through all the greens and blues to a deep cobalt at the shoulders. When Rachel put it on, she looked like a creature risen from the bottom of the ocean, seafoam still clinging about her knees.

“Geez, you look like a million, kiddo.” Bessie said. “Who’d ever guess you was jail-bait.”

Available on Amazon and at B&N

About the Author

d0mroFGU

London-based American writer Ferne Arfin has worked as a journalist, copywriter, actress and travel writer. Her short stories have been anthologised by Virago and Travellers’ Tales. Tunnel of Mirrors is her first published novel.

The View from Chelsea | Ferne Arfin | Instagram | Facebook | TikTok

Giveaway: Tunnel of Mirrors (Hardcover Edition) & Signed Bookplate (UK & North America Only)

 

Book Tour Schedule

March 28th

R&R Book Tours (Kick-Off) http://rrbooktours.com

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

Books + Coffee = Happiness (Interview) https://bookscoffeehappiness.com/

Timeless Romance Blog (Spotlight) https://aubreywynne.com/

Latisha’s Low-Key Life (Spotlight) https://latishaslowkeylife.com/

Bunny’s Reviews (Spotlight) https://bookwormbunnyreviews.blogspot.com/

 March 29th

Raven’z Reviews (Interview & Review) http://ravenzreviews.blogspot.com/

The Faerie Review (Spotlight) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

Stine Writing (Spotlight) https://christinebialczak.com/

March 30th

@what.kerry.reads (Review) https://www.instagram.com/what.kerry.reads/

  @gryffindorbookishnerd (Review) https://www.instagram.com/gryffindorbookishnerd/

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

March 31st

Riss Reviews (Spotlight) https://rissreviewsx.wixsite.com/website

 @infinite.readlist (Spotlight) https://www.instagram.com/infinite.readlist/

Rambling Mads (Spotlight) http://ramblingmads.com

April 1st

@amber.bunch_author (Review) https://www.instagram.com/amber.bunch_author/

Not a Bunny (Review) https://notanybunny.wordpress.com/blog

Liliyana Shadowlyn (Spotlight) https://lshadowlynauthor.com/

 

Book Tour Organized By:

R&R Button

R&R Book Tours

Mini Tour & Giveaway: Life Rolls Along by Linda Nielsen – Genre: Contemporary Romance @TouchPointPress @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #RomanceBooks #BookLovers

Welcome to the book tour for Linda Nielsen’s novel, Life Rolls Along. Read on for more details and a chance to win a $25 Amazon e-gift card!

Life Rolls Along_Front Cover (2) (1) (1) (2) (2)

Life Rolls Along (Because I’m Worth It #2)

Publication Date: November 8th, 2021

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Memorable characters move swiftly through a well-crafted plot. Punctuated with sharp humor, twenty-first century romances blossom in spite of well-heeled parental attempts to manipulate others to do their bidding.

Terri Sue Ellen, nonsensical and faux refined, and Charles Covington, wealthy executive, have a prickly daughter, Delaney Mae Anne, who wants a husband . . . so they buy one using their wealth and prestige to seal the deal.

But after a four week honeymoon, Skye Topple grasps the fact that he’s made a blunder in marrying the boss’s daughter.

Life’s hilarious complications follow him as he embarks on a journey to sort through the shambles of his life’s choices when he returns to his humble beginnings in Big Sur where he tries to reunite with his family.

Blending truth with hyperbole, wicked humor ensues as scheming business partners and arrogant in-laws attempt to destroy Skye’s bold plans for his future.
When the bizarre son of a new business partner covets his wife, Skye realizes he’s ready to move on but not before he gets what he’s been promised.
He joins forces with RB, the unwanted step-brother of his wacky mother-in-law, and the men take part in an eccentric ruse, hoping the final cards fall in their favor.  How dangerous are they, and how far will they go?

Find out in the dramatic story that takes a humorous approach on classiness, opulence, family and romance. Life Rolls Along by Linda Nielsen.

Add to Goodreads

10 AM Covington Residence Chicago, Illinois

CLEMENT B. PICKET, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW, attempted to wipe the smirk from his face as he delivered bad news to the rude, ill-mannered wife of business tycoon, Charles Covington

 “What do ya mean that ah have me a brother?” Terri Sue Ellen’s tone grew confrontational. “Ya crazy, Clem? Do ya think it’s funny makin’ up crap to annoy me?” She paused to sip her morning martini, then continued, “Ya know that ah’m a wealthy woman, and ah have no siblins! That’s a fact!” Unaware that her know-it-all attitude and exaggerated accent made her sound foolish, she plowed on, “Ah did not know that now a’days men in Atlanta enjoyed nigglin’ away at a lady. Is that why ya called me . . . to say ugly, untrue things to upset mah pleasant nature?”

Flipping a hand on her plump hip, she took a deep breath and felt her waist band grow tight. Damn those fried cheese fritters! She snorted in anger at the extra pounds she carried and turned back to the speaker phone. “Ya still there?”

“Yeah,” he replied wearily.

After numerous attempts to give her account to his junior associates, Clem conceded that she’d beaten them all down, so as head of his family’s law firm, her file was back on his desk. Rolling his eyes, he settled back in his chair. “I’m here.”

“Good!” She grumbled. “Need ah remind ya that your daddy always represented mah family with dignity and honor.” She nodded her head sharply and continued, “Just because ah sold the big house in Atlanta doesn’t mean ya can talk to me as if ah was never a true-blue southern belle. And furthermore, ah don’t want to be talkin’ to any more of your underlins, ever again. Ya got that?”

She sat down in a huff, and the artistic Wimberley sofa sagged with her weight. “Now that ya have been runnin’ your daddy’s firm for the last fifteen years or so . . .”

Savoring the vodka, she looked closely at the mirror and fluttered her eyelashes, admiring their thickness. Siberian mink and good glue. Mah sensual green eyes require long luscious lashes. She turned her thoughts back to Clem. “Where was ah?”

Sighing heavily, he dropped his head. She’s never been very bright. It’s no wonder that her father donated so much money to Georgia State. It was the only way she was going to get a diploma.

He moved to the southeast-facing window where he opened the shutters. The grand old magnolia tree filled his vision. His father had planted it after he opened his law office, shortly after Clem was born. It symbolized dignity. Now it was almost seventy-feet tall, and the creamy, white flowers greeted him every spring with their lemon-honey scent.

He’d learned a valuable lesson from that tree. Though it had luxurious dark green leaves on the surface, there was a rusty colored underside. It was like taking on a new client. Just because they showed you one part of their personality, you never knew what else was going on until you had a good look.

His father had warned him about the Covington family and Terri Sue Ellen, the spoiled girl he’d grown up with.

Returning to his desk, he chuckled. I’ll just wait for her to catch-up. I want her to be sharp. Wait. He paused and rolled his eyes. If that’s even possible. Smiling, he let his thoughts wander. ’Cause my news about her brother just gets better and better.

 Available on Amazon

About the Author

DSC03885 (4)

Former business woman and entrepreneur, Linda Nielsen, is involved in community work, actively supporting animal rights, no kill facilities and finding home for senior pets.

Her mother was a writer, her maternal grandmother wrote poetry and her paternal grandmother was an artist.  She jokes that artistic ability runs in her veins, but she has yet to discover her hidden ability to paint anything other than the bathroom walls.

She and her husband have traveled through Eastern Europe, Asia, South America, Russia. Australia and the Baltic with backpacks, catching any flights that were available. But now that the world has changed, she admits to discovering more at home activities.

Linda enjoys wine tasting and credits the lesser known areas such as Calaveras County and the Lodi area in San Joaquin County as having some of the finest wines in California.

She escapes from her computer by spending sunny mornings in her garden and has fun cooking but admits that not everything in the kitchen is a success.

She thanks her fans and their ongoing support for keeping her focused when she’s writing and offering their feedback on both the story lines and her characters.

TouchPointPress

Click the link below for a chance to win a $25 Amazon e-gift card!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Tour Banner

Mini Book Tour Schedule

March 14th

R&R Book Tours (Kick-Off) http://rrbooktours.com

Nesie’s Place (Spotlight) https://nesiesplace.wordpress.com

March 15th

@2manybooks2littletime (Review) https://www.instagram.com/2manybooks2littletime/

Breakeven Books (Spotlight) https://breakevenbooks.com

March 16th

Ravenz Reviewz (Review) http://ravenzreviews.blogspot.com/

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

March 17th

Books + Coffee = Happiness (Spotlight) https://bookscoffeehappiness.com/

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

March 18th

  @gryffindorbookishnerd (Review) https://www.instagram.com/gryffindorbookishnerd/

 

 

Mini Tour Organized By:

R&R Button

R&R Book Tours

 

Book Trailer Reveal: Triangle of Hope by Michael Meyer – Genre: Literary Fiction/ Romance @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books #BookTwitter #BookTrailer

Welcome to the book trailer reveal for The Triangle of Hope by Michael Meyer! Read on for more details and have a watch!

Idyllic Cliffs of Moher at sunset, Co. Clare, Ireland

Triangle of Hope

Genre: Literary Fiction/ Irish/ English Literary Fiction/ Romance

If one person can make a difference, just think what three can do. A tender story of love. Three strangers, each harboring a dark secret, become united by chance in a small Irish village, and the wonderful power of the human spirit comes alive.

If you believe that love and romance can happen in unusual circumstances, then this book is for you.

“If an author can make you cry for his characters then want to hug them close and then want to do an Irish jig with them to celebrate overcoming that much pain, then you know you have read a book that will stay with you forever.” – Wanda Hartzenberg, Wanda’s Amazing Amazon Reviewers

It is a “fantastic read that will pull at your heart.” – Lauren Alumbaugh, Goodreads librarian

Available on Amazon

About the Author

Mike Meyer

Michael Meyer is the author of mysteries, thrillers, humorous fiction, and non-fiction: Love and romance, laughter and tears, thrills and fears.

He has resided in and has visited many places in the world, all of which have contributed in some way to his own published writing. He has literally traveled throughout the world, on numerous occasions. He has lived in Finland, Germany, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, and the U.S. Virgin Islands. He gained the wanderlust to see the world, to experience other cultures, at an early age, and this desire has never left him. If anything, it has only gained in intensity as he has aged.

Among the many unique things that have happened to him in his world travels, he has walked the streets of Istanbul with a detective, searching for a pickpocket who got him good. He has ridden on the back of a motorcycle in Tehran while the driver, who spoke not one word of English, pointed out all the sights to him. He has wrestled an Iranian soldier who tried to break into his hotel room in Tehran. He has had the paint completely stripped from his car as he drove across Saudi Arabia in a sandstorm. He has stood on the stage of a busy nightclub in Tokyo, singing “She’ll be Coming Round the Mountain When She Comes” to an audience feeling no pain from the Sake they were drinking. He has been chased by a family of mongooses (yes, that is the correct spelling) on the idyllic Caribbean island of St. Croix. And that is just the beginning of his long list of worldly adventures.

As a recent retiree from a forty-year career as a professor of writing, he now lives in Southern California wine country with his wife, Kitty, and their two adorable rescue cats.

Michael MeyerFacebookGoodreads

 

Trailer Reveal Organized By:

R&R Button

R&R Book Tours

Get Your Copy of Moon Scorned by Marty Mayberry, Now Available on Amazon! Genre: Upper YA/ Shifter/ Paranormal Romance @marty_mayberry @RRBookTours1 #Amazon

Do you love Shifter Romance? Then you are going to want to get yourself a copy of Moon Scorned by Marty Mayberry! Now available on Amazon!

Scorned bk 1

Moon Scorned (Raven Moon Wolves #1)

Publication Date: January 5th, 2022

Genre: Upper YA/ Shifter/ Paranormal Romance

I fell hard and fast for the alpha of an elite pack.

Then he rejected me.

Everly

Asher took off when I needed him most, rejecting me and my inner wolf. Then my half-sister is murdered at an exclusive college that’s enshrouded in magic and secrets. When the school offers me a scholarship, I accept and move onto campus. I’m going to find out who killed her, then rip them apart. And if I run into Asher while I’m there? He’ll learn I’m no longer his sweet little thing. He’s about to taste the fury of a wolf shifter scorned.

Asher

Everly’s everything to me, but to protect her, I had to shove her away. If I go near her, the Drudge Pack will discover who she truly is. My father—their enforcer—will kill her. But when she shows up at Ravenmire College, my inner wolf hungers. I’ll do anything to keep her safe—even if that means sacrificing myself and betraying my dangerous family.

Goodreads

Excerpt

Asher was waiting for me outside work, standing in the darkness below a burst of evergreens. When he saw me, he strode forward and cupped my face with his warm hands.

Likes him, my wolf sighed within me.

“Missed you,” he whispered.

“You, too.” My heart rate picked up to double time.

His lips captured mine, softly at first, then harder and with growing need.

I wasn’t sure where this was going between us, but I did know one thing. Cats might rule and wolves might drool, but Asher was my catnip. Whenever he touched me, I purred.

Pulling away, he took my hand and guided me across the sidewalk and out onto the beach.

During the day, crowds of humans mobbed Old Orchard Beach. Once the sun had set and the tourists headed to their rented condos and hotels, the locals could breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy the quiet. And late at night, especially when the moon bathed the sky with her milky gaze, wolves like me and Ash could run.

I kicked off my shoes and shimmied out of my jeans and long-sleeve shirt—I wisely wore thin shorts and a tank underneath.

Asher watched, his smoldering eyes tracing my every curve as I moved. We’d come close to going all the way but hadn’t done it yet. I wasn’t sure why I resisted. He made it clear he wanted to. The heat simmering in my veins told me I did too. I guess I wanted to wait. We’d only known each other for a few months.

He had to leave for college soon, but he said he’d come back for each of his breaks. We had plenty of time to do things then.

We strode down to where the water licked at the shore and stood, staring out at the shimmering sea.

“You ever gone skinny dipping?” The grin Ash shot me was full of mischief.

“Umm…”

He lifted his shirt and ripped it over his head, tossing it aside. Moonlight teased across his muscular shoulders and defined abs. He told me he played soccer in college. Worked out now and then in the gym at his dad’s estate.

This was pure Asher. His amazing body was the alpha wolf in him shining through.

He reached for the button at the top of his jeans.

My breath jerked out of me. “I haven’t skinny dipped yet.” I nibbled on my lower lip.

With his jeans gaping open, he took my hands and squeezed them. His voice softened, something he did only with me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“The water’s cold. It barely gets above sixty this time of year.”

“It’s not that bad. I promise I won’t touch…too much.” He shucked his jeans. “I’ll even leave my boxers on.”

“It’s not quite skinny dipping if we’re not naked.” My swallow got caught in my throat. I couldn’t drag my attention away from the corded muscles standing out in his thighs. The bulge in his shorts.

“Ev?” he said, his voice calling to everything inside me like a siren from deep beneath the sea. He lifted my chin, and our eyes met. His freakin’ smoldered.

“Okay, I will,” I said.

His fingers caressed my bare arms, and my skin tingled.

He splashed into the sea and turned when he was in waist-deep water. A wave crashed against his back, trying to thrust him back to me, but he maintained his position, watching.

I wanted to tease him, to shimmy my hips and dance while I did it, but I wanted to be close to him even more. I tugged off my shorts and tank. They fell from my limp fingers to the sand with a soft rustle.

Asher groaned. “You’re gorgeous.” His fingers swirled through the water at his sides.

Holding his gaze, I ran down into the water, dressed only in my underwear.

Asher reached for my hand and tugged me right up against him. He ran his palms up and down my arms. As if that would warm me up?

Actually, his touch did. It warmed me up too much. Maybe tonight, we’d…

Likes, my wolf said. More kisses.

I jumped up and he caught me. He’d always catch me. My legs went around his waist, my arms, his shoulders.

His lips sought mine, searing through me. His tongue stroked the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth, letting him inside. I didn’t need to build a rocket ship to take us to the moon or the stars. Asher’s kiss took me there already.

“You…” he said when he lifted his head. “Have I told you yet how much you mean to me?”

“You can always tell me again.”

“Ev.” His fingers teased my spine, and I quivered, wishing now I’d taken off all my clothes. He kissed the nape of my neck. I melted, my knees pure mush.

Frigid water might bathe my skin, but Asher was the fire keeping me warm

Purchase on Amazon

About the Author

f1ql4l40eij3tl3lv5mrhshc54 (1)

Marty lives in New England, where you’ll find her plotting and writing while walking in the park–yes, at the same time! Otherwise, you might find her sitting in the shade with her feet up, reading everything she can get her hands on.

Marty Mayberry | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | TikTok

Cover Reveal: A Love Like Beauty and Betrayal: (For the Love of Gods Book 1) by Billie Harper – Genre: Fantasy Romance @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books #BookLovers

Welcome to the big reveal of the cover for A Love Like Beauty & Betrayal by Billie Harper! Read on for more details!

A Love Like Beauty and Betrayal Cover2

A Love Like Beauty and Betrayal (For the Love of Gods Book 1)

Expected Publication Date: March 1st, 2022

Genre: Fantasy Romance

One is my lover, and one is my traitor. I can’t tell them apart.

Corsen, the Goddess of Blood and Honor, youngest of the 12 sons and daughters of the Emperor God, has been living amongst mortals for over 300 years. Punishment for being foolish enough to fall in love with a mortal, and weak enough to let another kill him and shatter her own immortality in the process. She’s waited patiently, reincarnating over and over, for the Emperor God to give her a chance to redeem herself. Finally, he does. He’s reincarnated the soul of the traitor who destroyed Corsen as a goddess. If she can kill him within 30 days, she can return to the stars as a proper goddess.

But he’s also reincarnated her lover. They’re brothers in this lifetime. And the traitor still has his memories and an axe to grind with Corsen.

30 days to discover who’s who. 30 days to kill the traitor. But 30 days is enough time to fall in love too.

And Corsen may be falling for the wrong brother.

A Love of Shadows and Stars is fantasy romance full of twists, intrigue, magic and so much steam. Fans of brooding dark-haired anti-heroes and soft, tender lovers will find what they’re looking for here. This is the kick-off of a continuing series of godly romances. Each novel is its own story. No cliffhangers!

Pre-Order Today!

About the Author

BILLIE HARPER is a pen name for a YA author you may or may not have heard of. Under this name, she writes steamy romances, dark fairytale retellings, and the occasional light-hearted sci-fi. In her spare time, she’s taking long drives, flying kites, and befriending the neighborhood cats. A Love Like Beauty and Betrayal is the first in her For the Love of Gods fantasy romance series.

Billie Harper | Instagram | Amazon

 

Cover Reveal Organized By:

R&R Button

R&R Book Tours

Mini Tour & Huge Giveaway: Last Blue Christmas by Rose Prendeville – Genre: Holiday Romance @RosePrendeville @RRBookTours #Romance #Books

Looking for the perfect holiday read? Look no further! 

Welcome to the book tour for Last Blue Christmas by Rose Prendeville. Read on for details and a chance to win a $50 Amazon e-Gift Card!

LBC-EbookCover

Last Blue Christmas

Publication Date: December 1st, 2021

Genre: Contemporary Romance/ Holiday Romance

The only case they haven’t cracked is how to be together.

Not on Officer Maggie Kyle’s Christmas bingo card:

• A homemade bomb in a bus station locker.

• A child, the prime suspect in the bombing.

• Her partner of ten years abandoning her to solve the case on her own.

Max St. James might be the worst cop in the world—or at least in Toronto:

• He fell in love with his partner.

• He’s the reason she never became a detective.

• He doesn’t much care who planted the bomb.

The IED’s blast ignites years of tension, sending Maggie and Max careening in opposite directions—but opposites still attract.

Can they find a way to come together to solve the case before another bomb goes off?

And will it mean another ten years sacrificing the future they want for the partnership they already have?

Add to Goodreads 

Excerpt

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… four migraine headaches, three massive ulcers, two aching ear drums, and a hole where my heart ought to be,” Maggie sang quietly to herself as though Max wasn’t sitting right there. She cracked herself up and switched off the unmarked Suburban’s FM radio with a flourish, and Max could swear he caught a whiff of cinnamon.

“Maggie Kyle, your Christmas spirit confounds me,” he told his partner. He was pretending to watch a Buick creep down the street a little too slowly so she wouldn’t guess how attuned he was to the earnest timbre of her voice or the wry quirk of her lips. She was trying too hard to act casual with him, and he couldn’t figure out why.

Maggie forced another laugh. “Christmas spirit,” she repeated, skimming the crossword puzzle in her lap before glancing back across the street at the rundown residence of Bobby King. Its peeling paint, once white, was now a weathered gray, and of the four green shutters meant to frame the front windows, two were broken and one was missing altogether.

“What is a six-letter word for ‘lack thereof,’ Alex?”

“Jeopardy’s not a crossword puzzle,” she said, making sure he saw her eye roll.

“Dispatch, we need to put out an APB on Officer Kyle’s missing Christmas spirit.”

“You going to call in that Buick?” she changed the subject.

“I wrote down the plates,” he lied, squinting to make them out so he could record the vehicle in his logbook.

Maggie picked up the radio. “51-19?”

“51-19, go ahead,” another officer responded from his own unmarked vehicle around the corner.

“10-15 headed your way. Tan Buick, early 2000s model, traveling east. Manitoba plate: Yankee Lima Echo seven seven eight.”

“Copy,” 51-19 replied.

Maggie replaced the radio and turned her attention back to the crossword. “Frankie wants to enter that gingerbread contest, and her mom’s been playing Christmas carols since before Halloween. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

“Got it. No Christmas carols.”

Max drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. When exactly had she lost her Christmas spirit? He could picture her as a little girl—in his mind she wore two long braids and was constantly shaking her bangs out of her eyes—staring up at the sky waiting for Santa to ride out of the stars like a meteor with the same patience she now bestowed on their stakeout. “But peppermint lattes are okay?”

She grinned. “I’ll allow it.”

“So you only hate Christmas a little bit then?”

Maggie snorted.

Time was, Max didn’t mind the odd stakeout. It beat writing parking tickets or chasing shoplifters through the snow. Play some tunes, shoot the shit, pee in a bottle if things got urgent.

With the right partner it could seem like a day off. But everything was like eggshells with Maggie lately, and he couldn’t figure out when exactly things had changed.

Today he felt a special kind of twitchy, the kind that made you want to peel off your own skin. Max loved the city—sometimes he hated how much he loved it—but sitting still all week, downtown where the Toronto high-rises blocked out the sky, he was starting to feel caged, like the buildings were closing in from every direction.

Maybe he was psyching himself out after the whole ancestry test situation. The dichotomy of an Indigenous urbanite was turning his brain against itself. Maybe he just needed a vacation.

“Do you believe in nature versus nurture?” he asked.

“What, you mean like, mama tried but Bobby King was born rotten and no amount of church or cuddles or bedtime stories could have stopped him growing up to be a cop-killing gun runner?”

“Something like that.”

Maggie shrugged at him. “You missed a button.” She pointed at his shirt. “Girlfriend didn’t catch that?”

She was obsessed with the idea that he and Selina from next door shared more than a wall. It had only happened once—okay a handful of times. But it was five years ago, and there was no way Maggie could have known, except somehow she did. Even back then there’d been something, in his gait as he walked to the patrol car or a half-guilty look in his eyes; she had known, and if he protested now she’d take it as some kind of proof.

Not that it should even matter. They were partners, not lovers, and he’d certainly been her shoulder to cry on when the asshat from college dumped her and split back to Edmonton.

Max should have made a move on Maggie then, but he was still her TO and besides, he’d been a rebound before. He didn’t want to be one for Maggie, and she didn’t want him anyway. She’d been singularly focused on making detective since her first day at Fifty-One Division. Until, somewhere along the lines, she hadn’t.

And she was right about the button. His black undershirt was peeking through. Did he bother to look in the mirror this morning? After a dozen years on the job, he knew what he’d see. Not his father, not even his grandfather—just a sad imitation, like a kid who got the wrong size costume at Halloween.

Her phone began to vibrate then, and she, too, silenced it without answering.

“Your mom again?” he asked.

She didn’t respond, which meant yes.

“She giving you a hard time about staying here for the holidays?”

“I’ll take ‘Does the earth orbit the sun?’ for a thousand, Alex.”

“Weren’t you going to invite your folks out here for Christmas?”

“That was last year.”

An uncomfortable mixture of lust and shame surged through Max, from the tips of his ears to his belly, at the thought of last Christmas. He tried to remember her parents being in town, but all that came to mind was the department holiday party and sweaty fumbling in a dark interrogation room. And cinnamon. She had smelled like cinnamon then, too.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

RosePrendevilleHeadShot

Rose Prendeville is a librarian and honorary Canadian with a passion for stories about found families and flawed people doing their best.

She’s been devising such tales for as long as she can remember, including secretly in the back of her tenth grade French class (Pardon, Madame Gonzales), and she went on to double-major in screenwriting and creative writing.

Hydrangeas are her lifeblood, hot baths and hiking are her solace. She adores baking (and mostly eating) macarons, and she can’t wait to share this and future books with you.

Rose Prendeville | Instagram | TikTok 

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter

 

For your chance to win a $50 Amazon e-Gift Card, click the link below!

Rafflecopter

 

Last BlueChristmas copy

Mini Tour Schedule

December 13th

R&R Book Tours (Kick-Off Post) http://rrbooktours.com

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

Phoebe’s Randoms (Spotlight) https://phoebesrandoms.wordpress.com/

Stine Writing (Spotlight) https://christinebialczak.com/

December 14th

 @2manybooks2littletime (Review) https://www.instagram.com/2manybooks2littletime/

@gryffindorbookishnerd (Review) https://www.instagram.com/gryffindorbookishnerd/

 December 15th

Sadie’s Spotlight (Spotlight) http://sadiesspotlight.com/

@sleeping.bookish (Review) https://www.instagram.com/sleeping.bookish/

Rambling Mads (Review) http://ramblingmads.com

December 16th

B is for Book Review (Spotlight) https://bforbookreview.wordpress.com

Breakeven Books (Spotlight) https://breakevenbooks.com

   @my_books_and_coffee (Review) https://www.instagram.com/my_books_and_coffee/

Latisha’s Low-Key Life (Review) https://latishaslowkeylife.com/

December 17th

Misty’s Book Space (Spotlight) http://mistysbookspace.wordpress.com

Liliyana Shadowlyn (Review) https://lshadowlynauthor.com/

 

 

Mini Tour Organized By:

R&R Button

R&R Book Tours