Book Tour: Veles by P.J. Marie – Genre: Dystopian Sci-Fi @AuthorPJMarie @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #BookTwitter #Scifi

Welcome to the book tour for P.J. Marie’s Veles. Read on for details and a chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card!

Ebook - Veles

Veles

Publication Date: December 23rd, 2021

Genre: Dystopian/ Dystopian Sci-Fi

I was the land. I was the air. I was the sea. I was all of it – everywhere – and as I inhaled then let the tormented sorrow screech from my lungs, the world buckled and broke beneath my feet.

I was burning alive…

And the world would burn with me.

A century after the Great Destruction that devastated civilization, Mizuki Altherr lives within a small village struggling to survive beneath the shadow of a great mountain. The Elders teach that it is home to Veles, god of the earth, who keeps them safe – but demands penance for humanity’s past indiscretions.

It’s a Gifting year…

The previous sacrifice tore Mizuki’s family apart and forever changed her world. Now she must face the terrible tradition again as her closest friend, Aiden, and his family are chosen to provide the next offering. In a desperate bid to end the cycle of violence and defy the Elders’ iron rule, Mizuki and Aiden set forth on a daring journey into the Wild – where together they discover a secret that shatters their understanding of the village and reveals the truth behind the horrors that left the world in ruin.

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Excerpt

“Don’t move.”

She froze at the sound of Aiden’s voice, her brain instantly making sense of everything surrounding them as all the pieces and memories from the last two days fell into place. She had fallen asleep in Aiden’s arms, but he had not woken her up for night watch, and now he was sitting rigidly behind her and gripping her tight. She blinked again, her eyes rapidly searching the small space under the overhang and peering out into the darkness that lay beyond their small shelter. Only the faintest hint of light was visible; the sky was dark, with a grey drizzle still lingering from the storm the night before. She instinctively knew that something was wrong from the tense way he was holding her, but no matter how hard she squinted, she couldn’t see anything.

“What is it?” Mizuki whispered, her voice so low it was scarcely audible as she forced herself to remain still against Aiden’s frame.

“I heard something,” Aiden whispered, his hand leaving her side and slowly shifting to point off to the left just outside the shelter. “There.”

She looked to where he pointed but again saw nothing. She could barely make out the nearest trees and the thin trail of smoke coming from the remains of their fire. So she craned her head forward and listened. She could hear the wind as it shifted through the trees, faint and weak compared to the force of the gales the night before. She could hear the slow drips of water that fell to the ground off the shelter and the soft patter of light rain that continued to fall, but what struck her more than anything was the lack of other sounds.

“No birds,” she whispered faintly, feeling Aiden nod behind her. They both remained seated and still, their breaths puffing like little clouds in the cool morning air. She had woken up enough times after a storm to know that the birds always sang, even if it continued to rain. She could feel her heart starting to race, her panic starting to grow as she swallowed hard and willed her eyes to see into the dark. “What do we do?”

“We need to pack up,” Aiden whispered, his hands moving once again as he unwrapped his arm from around her waist and gently leaned forward to reach his calf. “Quietly – but as quickly as you can. Take this.”

She could see from the bottom of her gaze that he was undoing one of his knife holsters and transferring it to her leg, but she kept her eyes firmly locked to the place where Aiden had heard the noise. She remained entirely still as he worked until she felt the leather pull tight, and Aiden patted her calf twice to let her know he was done. Then they both shifted, Aiden sliding back and silently crawling to the small hole where they had stored their packs while Mizuki tentatively stood and began taking down their damp but no longer drenched clothes. Her tired legs ached beneath her as she carefully rolled each item and handed it to Aiden, who had moved back to her side. He stuffed everything into his pack, not caring what was what and keeping his eyes fixed on the darkness as the wind shuffled through the trees.

Her skin started to prickle with the distinct feeling of being watched as she slipped on her pack and glanced over to Aiden. He already had his pack on, and he was holding his bow ready with an arrow nocked. He glanced at her, his eyes gesturing down to the knife on her leg before he looked back out into the dark, grey drizzle. She reached down and took out the knife without question and tried not to think about how much it shook in her hand. She had to remind herself to breathe as Aiden shifted and motioned for her to follow. She held the blade near her hip, moving toward him and standing so close next to his side that there was barely an inch of space between them.

She followed him out from their cover, inching soundlessly to the edge of the overhang as her eyes rapidly scanned the darkness for movement. They had just stepped out into the misty rain when suddenly Aiden was shouting, and her heart was constricting in terror.

“GET BEHIND ME!” Aiden yelled, unleashing his arrow at the dark and silent form that lunged from the treeline on the left.

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About the Author

Author_Picture

Engineer by trade, P. J. Marie has always been a storyteller at heart. Inspired by the captivating tales that her Ukrainian grandfather used to tell about settling the Canadian prairies, P. J. has always looked at life through a narrative lens.

An avid creator, P. J. loves the design process from start to finish and is always working on projects that meld the structured world of engineering with her creative passions. Whether through world-building, crafting cosplays, or building custom bookshelves for her ever-growing collection of novels, manga, and terrible monster movies, P. J. is always working on something.

In her spare time, she enjoys collecting new skills, drinking copious amounts of tea, and spending time with her family and adorable doggo.

P.J. Marie | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

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Mini Tour: Those We Trust by Marie Jones – Genre: Contemporary Romance/ Suspense @MarieJones14057 @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books #booktwitter

Romance, suspense and secrets? What more could you ask for? Check out Marie Jones’ novel, Those We Trust. Now available on Amazon!

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Those We Trust

Publication Date: May 18, 2021

Genre: Contemporary Romance/ Suspense

Broken and humiliated by her husband of ten years leaving her unexpectedly, Sophia Meadows muddles through her daily routine—writing computer programs and rarely leaving the house. That is, until an old friend from university shows up on her door with an offer she can’t refuse: a chance to get away and heal in the Scottish Highlands of Inverness by flat-sitting. Yet once she arrives, she soon discovers the offer is not what she bargained for: A police surveillance team is watching her every move and a mysterious man is after the contents of a safe hidden in a wall. After a break-in at the apartment, her path collides with DI Marcus Armstrong, the man in charge of the apartment surveillance. Sophia is swept into an investigation of fraud involving her university friend and into a sudden attraction with the handsome DI who finds himself drawn to her even though she’s a suspect in his case. With evidence piling up against her and her friend and the attraction between her and Marcus growing stronger, Sophia is forced to confront her broken heart and find a way to clear her name. In a tangled web of secrets and clues, can she and the DI work through their attraction and learn to trust each other in time to stop a criminal and possibly save a life?

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About the Author

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Marie Jones, British Writer has been writing and telling stories since she was a young child. Perhaps it was inevitable that she would call grappling with words and language a career—and loving every moment. She feels privileged to share her work with a large and welcoming audience. Get in touch to discover more about her work, writing process and future endeavours.

Marie Jones, British Writer | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

 

 

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Mini Tour: Lucky Jack (1894-2000): Memoirs of a World War 1 POW by S. Bavey – Genre: WWI Biography @SueBavey @RRBookTours #RRBookTours #Books

We’re so happy to share this book with you today. Please read on for more info about Lucky Jack: Memoirs of a World War 1 POW by Susan Bavey!

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Lucky Jack

Publication Date: November 19th, 2021

Genre: WWI Biographies/ History

“One of the perils of being a sniper during the First World War was the likelihood of a grenade going off right next to you and burying you alive”.

Meet Jack Rogers. Born in 1894, he once locked eyes with Queen Victoria and was one of the first travellers on London’s ‘Tube’. An early car owner, he had many escapades on his days out to Brighton, including a time when his brakes failed and he had to drive through central London without them!

His skills as an entertainer earned him popularity throughout his life, and kept him out of the deadly mines while a prisoner during the First World War. At the tender age of 103 Jack earned the title of ‘The World’s Oldest Columnist’ as he began dictating his life’s exploits to a reporter from the local newspaper.

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CHAPTER 37  – A  N A S T Y  B I R T H D A Y  S U R P R I S E

On my 24th birthday, March 21st, 1918, at around 5.00 a.m. a terrific noise began – the German barrage had started. You could hear nothing but gunfire. It shattered my eardrum. Eight of us, all snipers, including my mate Charlie, were in the extra trench, which had been dug by the Royal Engineers. We had been in the trench since the previous night. It was quite some way beyond our frontline and we had been given orders to keep it defended at all costs. Suddenly the Germans started pouring out from their trenches. As German soldiers were shot down they were replaced by others. They advanced towards our front by hiding in small pockets, which they had weakened by constant bombing, not in a straight line as we had expected. They were shelling heavily to the left and right of us, but somehow, miraculously, not on us. Waves of German soldiers flowed past us, just yards in front of us we could see a group of fifty soldiers and another group the same distance behind us, but luckily they didn’t come anywhere near us, as we hid, terrified, in our trench,

watching them. The British soldiers were in full retreat and from our slit in the ground, all we could see was the backs of the German soldiers, as they continued forging ahead. We stayed in our trench like that, surrounded by all of our equipment and everything we owned. We had expected to be in the thick of the fighting and instead there we were hiding in a small trench. At around 11 a.m, a group of Prussian soldiers appeared, part of the ‘mopping up’ party sent to finish off or round up any survivors who had been missed the first time the soldiers went through. They threw some ‘tater mashers’ (hand grenades) into the trench, which luckily missed me, and then came rushing down into our trench. By some good fortune, neither Charlie nor I were killed. We decided we had no choice but to put our hands up and surrender under the circumstances. By now, it was 11.30 a.m. and we had managed to hold the trench since 5.00 a.m. We were terrified and completely exhausted from the adrenaline and extreme emotion. Frank Richards had been hit by a piece of tin between his neck and shoulders and he was bleeding and holding his head. One of the Prussian Guards was a big, fierce looking man with a moustache. He jumped into the trench next to me, with his bayonet fixed and pointed at my stomach. I was convinced my last hour had come. I was absolutely terrified. I said “Goodbye” and waited for his deadly thrust. Instead of thrusting his bayonet into me I heard him say softly, almost gently, “Zigaretten, Kamerad?” He wanted cigarettes.

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About the Author

Author_pic Sue Bavey

Sue Bavey is an English Mum of two, living in Massachusetts since 2003 with her husband, kids, a cat named Midnight, a bunny named Nutmeg, a leopard gecko named Ziggy Stardust and occasional frogs and salamanders.

“Lucky Jack is the first book I have written and is my grandfather, Henry John Rogers’ biography. Grandad lived with us when I was born, until we moved when I was six years old. Then he came back to live with us in my teenage years and we were very close. He was my father’s father, but my Mum diligently collected the newspaper columns he dictated to a local reporter, and kept them in scrapbooks in her attic, where they gathered dust and yellowed over time. A few years ago I moved my Mum into an apartment and found all the scrapbooks in the process. I wanted to get all of those stories into a book for my kids to read. That was the germ of an idea which – thanks to my having time during Covid lockdown – has now resulted in the life story of my grandfather, Jack Rogers being written.”

Sue Bavey

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Blog Tour & Giveaway: The Rise of Raidin by Susan L. Markloff – Genre: YA Fantasy @SusanMarkloff @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #TheRiseoftheRaidin #YABooks #Books

Welcome to the blog tour for The Rise of the Raidin by Susan L. Markloff. Read on for more details and a chance to win a signed a signed copy of the book!

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The Rise of Raidin

Publication Date: November 1st, 2021

Genre: YA Fantasy/ Urban Fantasy

Jennifer Monroe is an average eighteen-year-old girl, and she knows it.

Which is precisely why no one—least of all herself—would suspect anything extraordinary from the quiet, boring girl who only has a few good friends to call her own. But that all got flipped on its head about a year ago, when two imposing men, a complete goofball, a werewolf, and two large four-legged creatures barged into her life.

Now over a year later, Jen leads a double life. Mild mannered, quiet, high schooler by day; dragon slayer and raw-energy-wielding-warrior (in training) by night. Juggling SAT scores, papers, and mastering the art of flying, she’s managed to keep her friends and family oblivious of her hybrid abilities and continue on a track for college. Everything was going swimmingly.

Until one normal, foggy, November morning, when a dragon crashed through the clouds, heralding a small army to descend on her high school. All for little, forgettable her. Making her realize that maybe there’s a whole lot more going on than she originally thought.

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Available on Amazon and Also in a Dyslexic Friendly Edition

About the Author

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Susan L Markloff is a rising YA Fantasy author. Upon devouring fantastical worlds as a child, she often spent her days playing make-believe and spinning stories with friends and family. At the age of 18, she wrote what would become the first draft of her debut novel, The Rise of the Raidin. While at Houghton College, she cultivated a love for the written word, and majored in Creative Writing. There she was encouraged by other aspiring authors and by her professors to hone her skills and write the best version of her stories. The Rise of the Raidin, book 1 of The Human-Born Era, is the first of over twenty planned novels revolving around the world of Tilion.

Susan L. Markloff | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook

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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!

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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?

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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.

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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.

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Mini Tour: Unicorn Farmhand by Samuel Yaw Jian Fong – Genre: Fantasy @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books

Welcome to the mini tour for fantasy novel, Unicorn Farmhand by Samuel Yaw Jian Fong. Read on for more details!

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Unicorn Farmhand

Publication Date: December 2019

Genre: Fantasy

Every horse has a talent or two. Some can sit, some can jump over obstacles, and some can select a button for a treat. For one particular draft horse, Dok Saau, his talent is in writing. He does not just scribble letters in the ground as a trick, but he also uses his talent to express his own thoughts to his bemused owners.
Surprised by his strange talent, his owner Chang Gao brings him to the Horse Fair, where he beats the other horses by writing proper answers to several questions. After a DNA scan, he is revealed to be a unicorn: even though he was supposed to be released into the wild, the authorities let Chang Gao keep him so that he might become a local attraction.
Yet even as he tries to adjust to his new life as an animal celebrity, every now and then he faces recurring nightmares from his troubled past. As he seeks Chang Gao’s help, will he be there to help him defeat his fears? Or would they instead attract something much worse: something that could threaten his comforts or even his own life?

Available on Amazon & Kobo

About the Author

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Samuel Yaw Jian Fong is an amateur author and artist from Seremban, Malaysia. Due to a lot of time spent on the Internet, he enjoys making his own fictional worlds inhabited by dozens of quirky characters  Would you like to check them out?

For more information about his works, check out the Rabydosverse Wikia and HorsesPlease’s DeviantArt page.

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