Book Release: She’s the One Who Doesn’t Say Much by S. R. Cronin @cinnabar01 @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours

Happy publication day to S.R. Cronin! Check out the latest installment in The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters! Read on for details and a chance to win a $20 amazon gift card and an Amazon gift copy of the first book in the collection, “She’s the One Who Thinks too Much“!

2021-0819 S R Cronin b04She’s the One Who Doesn’t Say Much (The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters)

Publication Date: August 13th, 2021 (Today)

Genre: Historical Fantasy

Do you know what your problem is?

Olivine knows hers. This quiet thirteen century artist has been hiding a secret as she travels to K’ba to meet her friends. Others assume she’s fallen in love with another artist, and it’s not a match Mother would consider suitable. But it’s much worse than that. For on the way to K’ba is the dirt poor nichna of Scrud, a place scorned by other Ilarians. And in Scrud is the one man who understands her.

However, Bohdan recognizes the dangers posed by an impending Mongol invasion. When he learns of Olivine’s unusual visual powers, he convinces her to pick up her bow and start practicing.

She does, though she’s more concerned with producing enough art to run away from home and live in K’ba, where she can paint all day and see Bohdan as often as she wants. If only her sister hadn’t learned of what she can do and decided Olivine and her fellow long-eyes hold one of the keys to defending the realm.

Then, as if life wasn’t complicated enough, Olivine learns the artist community she yearns to be part of has developed a different take on the invasion. They’re certain the only way to survive is to capitulate completely to the Mongol’s demands. Artists who feel otherwise are no longer welcome.

Where does her future lie? The supposed invasion is coming soon and Olivine doesn’t have much time to decide.

The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters consists of seven short companion novels. Each tells the personal story and perspective of one of seven radically different sisters in the 1200s as they prepare for an invasion of their realm. While these historical fantasy/alternate history books can be enjoyed as stand-alone novels, together they tell the full story of how Ilari survived.

Which sister do you think saved the realm? That will depend on whose story you read.

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Excerpt

We lay together afterwards, talking as people do. I shared my ideas of living on my own in K’ba and he shared what he’d worked on recently. I’d already seen a set of beautiful bowls he’d carved with the knife I’d bought him. Now, he turned to a bin near his mat and pulled out a handful of small shivs, sized to fit in a skirt pocket.

“Our leaders in Scrud worry about these Mongols, too,” he said. “They worry the army won’t bother to defend the likes of us. But I’ve been thinking about the women in Ilari. We’ve heard what happens to females in an invasion. The idea of … my mother, my aunts, my sisters. It just makes me sick.”

“Women face added risks,” I said. “When conquered, we endure things men generally don’t.”

 “I know. I thought I could make these, and give them to women to carry. Here, hold this.” He put one of the shivs in my hand. “What do you think? Could you defend yourself if you had this?”

I held the tiny weapon tight. Perhaps I imagined it, but the wood felt poised to defend me if I needed it to.

 “I could do some damage, if it was up close and personal, which I guess it would be. And a surprise. Then maybe once they discovered how dangerous Ilari women are, they’d think twice before assaulting us.”

He nodded. “That’s what I’d hope for. I’m going to start making as many of these as I can. Give one to every woman I meet.”

I looked around at his meager belongings. There were no comforts to speak of. None. “Bohdan, don’t you think you should sell them? At least for a little something?”

“How could I do that? Come on, Olivine. No woman should have to pay me to keep herself safe.”

Then he looked at me and his eyes softened. He reached out and took a piece of my long bronze hair between his fingers and looked into my eyes. He’d already told me how much he loved their intense green color. I expected him to compliment them again, but instead he said “I wish you were more of a fighter.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I rather thought you liked me the way I was.”

He looked down, embarrassed. “Oh, I do. I mean I wish you had more ways to look out for yourself. You’re just not that physical, and I think force is all these monsters will understand.”

“I have physical skills.”

“Yes, so you’ve demonstrated. I don’t mean those, you’re great in that area.”

“I don’t mean in that area. They made me learn stuff in school, told me I had to develop my body to be well rounded.”

Right away I regretted saying it. The Royals of each nichna prided themselves on sponsoring basic education for children, everywhere but Scrud. If Scrud even had Royals, which I wasn’t sure they did. I’d already learned Bohdan was embarrassed he’d never been to school, although an older sister had taught him to read and write some.

“So what did they make you learn?” he asked.

“How to shoot with a bow and arrow.”

“Seriously? Are you any good?”

“I used to be. Surprised everyone, most of all me.” I paused. I hesitated to talk too much about the many things I’d gotten to do over the years, because Bohdan had been offered so few opportunities.

“I do this thing, it’s hard to explain, but if I focus on something small that’s far away, like a flower or a bee or a leaf, it comes into clear focus while everything else goes blurry.”

“Sounds useful for an artist.”

“Oh, it is. I used to think everyone could do it. I mean, who talks about how their eyes work, right? But when I was in Pilk I found out it’s called being a long-eye and it’s uncommon. Some artists have it but most don’t. Anyway, it helped me with archery, too. I got a kick out of shooting arrows and being good at something like that.”

He’d gone back to worrying. “If I asked you to pick up a bow again and practice, would you? For me?”

“Of course, but why? You know I’m trying to make as much art as I can so I can move to K’ba. There are only so many hours of light in a day.”

“True. But it could be a way to defend your home. I think Ilari will need all the fighters it can get, and all the kinds of fighters it can get.”

He just wasn’t going to stop fretting about the Mongols. I rolled my eyes.

“Okay. A little archery every day, I promise. The sunshine will do me good.”

Available on Amazon US & Amazon UK

She’s the One Who Doesn’t Say Much will also be available on B&N, Kobo, Apple, and Smashwords in late August.

About the Author

authorpicture

Sherrie Cronin is the author of a collection of six speculative fiction novels known as 46. Ascending and is now in the process of publishing a historical fantasy series called The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters. A quick look at the synopses of her books makes it obvious she is fascinated by people achieving the astonishing by developing abilities they barely knew they had.

She’s made a lot of stops along the way to writing these novels.  She’s lived in seven cities, visited forty-six countries, and worked as a waitress, technical writer, and geophysicist. Now she answers a hot-line. Along the way, she’s lost several cats but acquired a husband who still loves her and three kids who’ve grown up just fine, both despite how eccentric she is.

All her life she has wanted to either tell these kinds of stories or be Chief Science Officer on the Starship Enterprise. She now lives and writes in the mountains of Western North Carolina, where she admits to occasionally checking her phone for a message from Captain Picard, just in case.

SR Cronin | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram 

Troublesome Sisters | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads

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Book Release: She’s the One Who Gets in Fights by S. R. Cronin @cinnabar01 @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books

Happy publication day to S.R. Cronin! Check out this brand new Historical Fantasy, She’s the One Who Gets in Fights and enter for a chance to win a $30 Amazon e-gift card!

2020-0047 S.R. Cronin b03

She’s the One Who Gets in Fights (The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters Books)

Publication Date: May 14th, 2021 🎉

Genre: Historical Fantasy

It’s the 1200’s, and the small realm of Ilari has had peace and prosperity for generations. That doesn’t mean every citizen is happy, however.
Sulphur, the third of seven sisters, is glad the older two have been slow to wed. It’s given her the freedom to train as a fighter, in hopes of fulfilling her lifelong dream of joining Ilari’s army. Then, within a matter of days, both sisters announce plans and now Sulphur is expected to find a man to marry.
Is it Sulphur’s good fortune her homeland is gripped by fear of a pending Mongol invasion? And the army is going door to door encouraging recruits? Sulphur thinks it is. But once she’s forced to kill in a small skirmish, she’s ready to rethink her career decision.
Too bad it’s too late. The invasion is coming, and Ilari needs every good soldier it has.
Once Sulphur learns Ilari’s army has made the strategic decision to not defend certain parts of the realm, including the one where her family lives, she has to re-evaluate her loyalty. Is it with the military she’s always admired? Or is it with her sisters, who are hatching a plan to defend their homeland with magic?
Everywhere she turns, someone is counting on her to fight for what’s right. But what is?

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Excerpt

In early spring, after the last of the snow melted and the mud dried, I told my parents I wished to visit friends I’d made while studying. Then I rode to Pilk to learn more about joining the Svadlu. I knew they had a booth at the largest market there, often staffed by Svadlu officers who’d answer questions. I had a lot of them.

They accepted women, but what were the standards? Were they the same as for the men? Being a Svadlu provided status and a fair amount of pay, so they never wanted for recruits. How many people who tried to join were accepted?

The next day I found the booth. Officers wore cloaks of saffron yellow, but this man boasted a scarlet cape covered in regalia, identifying him as a Mozdol. My nervousness surprised me as I approached him.

“Hello, lass,” he greeted me with warmth. “Let me guess. You’ve got a younger brother who wants to join us but he’s too nervous to come talk to me himself. Am I right?” He seemed pleased. With what? That he induced nervousness in potential recruits?

“Uh, no. Sir. I was hoping to get some information on me joining.”

“You?”

He looked at me more closely. Of course I wore a dress, not my fighting clothes, so I didn’t much look the part, but he squinted at me anyway.

“You’re tall. Well-muscled for a woman and you look to be in good shape. Have you ever held a sword?”

“I’ve been sparring since I was a child.”

That impressed him.

“And I’ll do whatever you need to me to. Answer questions about weapons, engage in fights, perform tests of strength, whatever you need.” I spoke too fast in my eagerness.

“Slow down,” he chuckled. “All that’s good, but actually, none of it matters compared to what I’m going to tell you next.”

He hesitated as if he wasn’t sure how to explain this vital fact to someone as ignorant as me.

“You’re a farmgirl, right?” He looked at my clothes again.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, the Svadlu are more of a city operation. We do things differently than on the farm.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean being a member of the Svadlu is a pretty good deal. Lots of young people want in.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve worked so hard.”

“And that’s good, but most successful recruits get in because they have a sponsor. You know, someone already in the Svadlu who vouches for them. Um, especially if you’re, well, you know, a woman. Then it helps a great deal if one of us says you’re up to it.”

“But I can prove I’m up to it!”

“I suspect you can.” The look he gave me held respect, but he stayed firm. “A sponsor makes the difference. Why don’t you ask around? Surely your family knows someone who can help you.”

He looked up. Several people stood behind me now, all hoping to talk to him. “If you’ll excuse me …”

I rode back to Vinx dejected. I already knew my family had no contacts in the Svadlu and I had no idea of who I could turn to find some. Why did I have to know someone in order to get in? What stupid kind of way was that to run an army?

Available on Amazon

Will be available through Kobo, Apple, and Barnes & Nobel later this month!

About the Author

authorpicture

Sherrie Cronin is the author of a collection of six speculative fiction novels known as 46. Ascending and is now in the process of publishing a historical fantasy series called The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters. A quick look at the synopses of her books makes it obvious she is fascinated by people achieving the astonishing by developing abilities they barely knew they had.

She’s made a lot of stops along the way to writing these novels.  She’s lived in seven cities, visited forty-six countries, and worked as a waitress, technical writer, and geophysicist. Now she answers a hot-line. Along the way, she’s lost several cats but acquired a husband who still loves her and three kids who’ve grown up just fine, both despite how eccentric she is.

All her life she has wanted to either tell these kinds of stories or be Chief Science Officer on the Starship Enterprise. She now lives and writes in the mountains of Western North Carolina, where she admits to occasionally checking her phone for a message from Captain Picard, just in case.

SR Cronin | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram 

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Book Tour: The Book of Uriel by Elyse Hoffman @Project613Books @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #TheBookofUriel

Congratulations to author Elyse Hoffman on the release of her absolutely stunning novel, The Book of Uriel

“The Book of Uriel is a heartbreaking blend of historical fiction and Jewish folklore that will enthrall fans of The Book Thief and The World That We Knew.”

Read on for an excerpt and a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card!

book of uriel cover ebook

The Book of Uriel

Expected Publication Date: January 26, 2021

Genre: Historical Fiction/ Jewish Fiction/ Jewish Folklore/ Holocaust Fiction

Publisher: Project 613 Publishing

In the fires of World War II, a child must save his people from darkness…

Ten-year-old Uriel has always been an outcast. Born mute in a Jewish village known for its choir, he escapes into old stories of his people, stories of angels and monsters. But when the fires of the Holocaust consume his village, he learns that the stories he writes in his golden notebook are terrifyingly real.

In the aftermath of the attack, Uriel is taken in by Uwe, a kind-hearted linguist forced to work for the commander of the local Nazi Police, the affably brutal Major Brandt. Uwe wants to keep Uriel safe, but Uriel can’t stay hidden. The angels of his tales have come to him with a dire message: Michael, guardian angel of the Jewish people, is missing. Without their angel, the Jewish people are doomed, and Michael’s angelic brethren cannot search for him in the lands corrupted by Nazi evil.

With the lives of millions at stake, Uriel must find Michael and free him from the clutches of the Angel of Death…even if that means putting Uwe in mortal danger.

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Excerpt

Uriel wished he could scream.

Normally, he could. A scream was one of the few noises that ever emerged from the boy’s lips. No words ever escaped, but he could summon a scream.

Yet his lungs couldn’t gather enough air to produce a cry. They struggled to supply enough oxygen to keep the child awake. Smoke invaded his throat and clawed at his lungs. Although screams pierced the air from every angle, he couldn’t add his own to the din.

He still felt the pressure of mother’s fingers locked around his hand, even though she was gone. Uriel’s golden eyes darted to and fro, searching for her face. His fingers twitched as her warmth faded. He strained his ears, trying to hear her call to him, but her voice did not rise above the ruckus.

Mama! Uriel thought, his tears allying with the smoke and assaulting his eyes. He wanted to cry out for her. Perhaps if she heard him, she would find him, and they could get to safety. But his voice had never worked before, and though he opened his mouth to call out, all he could do was pant and cough.

Gunshots rang out. The fleeing villagers clung to their families and their few precious possessions, shoving one another out of the way as they tried to escape the flames enveloping the little town and the murderous mob cutting down the Jews. Young and old, women and men, little children and babies were thrown to the ground, beaten with clubs, shot, stabbed, and slaughtered. Their blood mingled with the warm ash coating the cobblestones.

Uriel stood in the midst of the mayhem, still as a statue, alone. His right hand yearned for his mother, while his left clutched the one possession he had snatched before fleeing his house. His little golden notebook. Small enough to fit in his pocket and filled with stories he couldn’t leave to burn.

Although the villagers would normally never leave a small child alone in the street, concern for their own lives and the lives of their families caused them to stampede. Uriel was pushed against a brick wall, and his golden notebook flew from his hand. He gasped, inhaling an army of ash. The boy desperately tried to crawl to his notebook. Boots and shoes stomped on the cherished book, but Uriel reached it. He grabbed the notebook and held it to his chest, shielding it with his body.

The child was trampled and kicked. His lungs began losing to the smoke and ash entering through his nostrils and silent lips. He felt as though his insides were on fire, as though every bone in his body was about to shatter. When darkness finally took him, all he felt was gratitude.

Available on Amazon!

About the Author

Author-picture-1-1

Elyse Hoffman can write a lot of things, but finds her own story dull and difficult. She has been interested in the Holocaust and Nazi Germany since she was thirteen. Her somewhat morbid fascination is purely intellectual and emotional. She advises you to be careful when signing contracts. You never know where or when you may end up.

Project 613 Publishing | Facebook | TwitterBookBubGoodreads

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