Available for Review: Books by Kathryn Reign (Genres: Dark Romance/ Contemporary Romance) @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours

Review Opportunities!

I have an ARC and a new release by author Kathryn Reign available for review until the end of March. No specific date to post just publish your review before the deadline and share to Amazon, Goodreads, etc… Review copies are available in all digital formats.

Request below!

forever_yoursForever Yours

Expected Publication Date: December 4th 2021

Genre: Dark Romance

When Love Becomes Deadly…

When Natalie Grace met Caleb McCord on a dating app, she never thought she would end up fighting for her life.

What seemed like a charming and handsome man on the outside turns into something much darker, more sinister and possessive than Natalie could’ve ever imagined.

With the help of her best friend, will she find the strength to finally push aside her adoration for a monster?

Or will her unconditional love for him become her own demise?

Forever Yours documents the story of a young woman’s recounts of her internal struggle in a controlling, obsessive, and violent relationship.

*Trigger Warning: This story may contain triggering material for anyone who has had a history of domestic abuse and/or violence. Please read with caution.

Amazon

chasing_soulmatesChasing Soulmates

Publication Date: October 30th, 2021

Genre: New Adult Romance/ Contemporary Romance

When a virgin meets a musician…

Socially awkward, Andrew Cohen has struggled with love and dating his entire life. It isn’t until he meets Savannah Cassidy, lead singer of The Moonshines, that his luck begins to turn around, and they fall in love at first sight.

However, with this sudden connection, also comes a complication: they live on opposite sides of the country.

Logan Matthews has always been a ladies’ man, breaking hearts and tearing love apart. He never thought he’d find love, until one rendezvous goes too far, and he finds himself begging for forgiveness.

Is Andrew and Savannah’s love strong enough to overcome the distance between them and those trying to tear them apart?

Will Logan’s guilt finally force him to end his promiscuous ways?

Do soulmates truly exist?

Or do all romance end in tragedy?

Amazon

About the Author

Kathryn Reign

Kathryn Reign is a contemporary romance author of modern love, star-crossed lovers, and tearjerkers.

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Book Tour: Rain City Lights by Marissa Harrison Genre: New Adult/ NA Mystery @marissa_hrrsn @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books

Welcome to the book tour for Rain City Lights by Marissa Harrison! Read on for more details and enter to win a fantastic giveaway!

Rain-City-Lights-Cover Image

Rain City Lights

Publication Date: October 1st, 2021 (Hardcover Edition)

Genre: NA/ NA Mystery

Coming of age and mystery blend in this stark, yet atmospheric tale of love and loss. A young woman is pushed onto the streets where she learns the harsh realities of what it means to survive, to serve justice, and to fight for the man she loves. As they navigate their way through Seattle’s Underground, Monti & Sasha will break and warm your heart!

In the summer of 1981, a serial killer preys on black, teenage prostitutes working Seattle’s arterial highways. But the eyes of youth are blind to danger, and Montgomery “Monti” Jackson is distracted by her own problems. She’ll be starting high school soon, and the return of her mother’s boyfriend heightens the tension in her fractured household.

To add to her worries, Monti fears she may be in love with her best friend Sasha. But as close as they’d once been, now they couldn’t feel further apart. Sasha is a burnout punk rocker, and has befriended the neighborhood drug dealer. And when an eviction notice is posted on Monti’s door, a strange dynamic forms between them.

One night, an altercation leaves her family penniless. So Monti turns to the very streets where a killer stalks and ensnares young women, beginning her journey towards understanding one, simple truth – sometimes your only choices in life are to love and survive.

Rain City Lights is a gritty, urban love story that explores how poverty, addiction and abuse is passed from one generation to the next.

Trigger Warnings: Adult content and some violence

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Prologue 

Christmas Eve, 1972 

The rain pelt so hard it sprang up from the porch like bullets. The detective removed his hat,  water dripping down his face, hiding tears but for his red-rimmed eyes. He couldn’t help crying,  after what he had seen and for the scene before him. The Christmas tree lit with multi-colored  lights and draped with silver tinsel. The cookies on the mantle. Frank Sinatra crooning “Jingle  Bells” from the record player. And a small boy wearing red pajamas. These were the reasons the  detective wiped his nose like a baby, and steeled himself to bear the bad news. 

* * *  

Mikael Sasha Coen already knew why the detective had come. Someone once said he could  smile with only his big, blue eyes. He tried this by focusing his eyes hard into the sadness that  seemed to hunch the detective’s shoulders. He curved the corners of his mouth upward just a  little. It was enough to make the detective smile back. 

“He should leave the room,” the detective said.  

Daan shook his head. “The sooner he gets used to hearing bad news, the better.”  The detective scratched his sideburn.  

“Mr. Coen, I’m so sorry to say this, tonight of all nights. But there’s been an accident. Your  wife’s car went over the Ballard Bridge. She didn’t make it.”  

Daan Coen keeled over and keened, a sound more piercing than nails dragged against a  chalkboard. The detective described what happened. The grates were slick. His wife had been  speeding to beat the drawbridge, raised to let a party yacht into the Fremont canal. She skidded  and lost control. Daan sobbed and asked the Lord why. But Mikael thought he knew that, too.  

After a moment, Daan asked,  

“But wouldn’t she have seen the warning lights? Wouldn’t the gate have dropped? I don’t  understand how this could happen.”  

The detective pursed his lips. He spoke in the way adults sometimes did that made Mikael feel as  if he’d been naughty.  

“Not here,” the detective said.  

Mikael watched from the porch as Daan left to identify the body. He’d promised to stay with one  of the neighbors that lived in the apartment units of The Bridgewater. As Mikael turned, he heard  a chattering sound, and it drew his attention to the stoop next door. A young girl sat with her head 

pushed between her knees, her body rocking back and forth and her arms enclosing her shivering  shins. 

“What’re you doing? It’s raining,” he said.  

“No shit,” she muttered. “I’m locked out.”  

“Why?” He bit his lip. “Also, you shouldn’t talk like that. My dad says bad words send people to  hell.”  

The girl didn’t answer. When she looked up, he saw the gray eyes of a feral cat ready to scram  into the city gutters. 

Mikael walked inside and turned up the music. He took the cookies from the mantle and went  back to the porch, holding them in the rain, in view of the girl. 

“Want a cookie?”  

“I’m fine. My mom is coming soon.”  

“You want to help me open my presents?”  

The girl shrugged and stared at her knees.  

Mikael sighed and stomped back to the Christmas tree. He moved the gifts from beneath the tree,  one by one, into his bedroom. He knew the girl would come out of the rain soon. No kid could  resist Christmas presents. On each trip to the tree he passed a photo of his mother. It was the kind  with two faces, one of the smiling front and the other a profile. The two-faced photo was  ghoulish, and each time he passed it became harder to look at because of the goosebumps that  tickled his arm. He didn’t want to open presents in front of the ghost that had once been his  mother.  

Mikael waited on his bedroom floor. The music blared from the living room, but over the  smooth, velvet voice of Sinatra came the soft pattering of uncertain footsteps. 

“I’m in here,” Mikael called. 

The girl appeared in the open doorway of his bedroom. 

“Hi,” Mikael said.  

Her eyes were glued to the presents.  

“Where are your parents?” she asked.  

“My mom is dead. My dad went to see her.”  

“What happened?” 

“A car accident.”  

He sniffled and pushed the presents towards her.  

“Here. You can have them all.”  

He handed her a football wrapped in gold paper, something he never wanted. Mikael’s father  wanted it for him, in the same way Daan wanted other things. Be a good, Christian man. Don’t  cry. Stand up straight. Don’t tell lies.  

The girl tore the paper from the gift, filling the silence with the sound of shredding paper. Her  eyes sparkled. She tossed the football in her hands as if it was something she was made to do. 

“My name is Montgomery. But you should call me Monti. I’m seven.”  

“My name is Mikael.” He paused, thinking of his Norwegian grandfather for whom he was  named, a strict Lutheran who built the walls that enclosed them now. It was a name his father  wanted for him.  

“But you should call me Sasha. I’m seven and a half.”  

Monti shoved an entire cookie into her mouth. She smiled, showing the crumbs stuck between  the gap in her front teeth. 

“Why aren’t you sad?”  

“I was sad yesterday,” he said. “My mom said goodbye yesterday.”  

She took another cookie and ogled the rest of the gifts. 

“I can’t take your presents.”  

“Yes you can. I don’t want them.”  

She sputtered cookie crumbs from her mouth. 

“Why the hell not! I’d kill for this many toys.”  

“They’re from my dad. And he’s the reason my mom’s gone.” He picked another gift and laid it  in her lap. “Also, you shouldn’t swear.”  

She nodded, as though everything he’d said made perfect sense. He felt very brave next to her, so  he whispered through clenched teeth,  

“I hate my dad.” 

Now Available

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About the Author

author photo

Marissa Harrison is the author of her debut novel, Rain City Lights. She began her career by reading as many books as she could get her hands on, and would fondly wander the aisles of her neighborhood Target to pick the hottest reads for her enjoyment and education. She caught the bus from her job in Downtown Seattle to take classes and workshops offered around the city, and eventually completed her first novel during the early morning hours while watching the trains roll by from her apartment window. She is an avid reader of mysteries, true crime, and heart wrenching love stories, and explores these themes in her own writing.

In her spare time Marissa enjoys running, hiking, dramatic miniseries’ and a great glass of wine. She lives in Seattle with her husband and four guinea pigs.  

Marissa Harrison | Twitter | Instagram

 

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November 22nd

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

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November 23rd

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

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

November 24th

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

Jessica Belmont (Review) https://jessicabelmont.com/

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

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November 25th

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

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November 26th

@amysbooknook8 (Review) https://www.instagram.com/amysbooknook8/

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

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

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Book Blitz: Child of Awareness by Abigail Silver – Genre: NA Sci-Fi/ Fantasy @SilverAbby84 @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Books #Scifi

We’re happy to share this beautifully illustrated novel, Child of Awareness with you all today! Read on for more details!

Child of Awareness Cover Final Virtual1.jpg

Child of Awareness (Redeeming Grace Trilogy, Book One)

Publication Date: July 2021

Genre: NA Sci-Fi/ Fantasy/ Illustrated

Intended Age Group: New Adult (targeted at 18+)

Gracie’s fire burns holes in the fabric of spacetime. A friendship with her long-dead sister and unsettling dreams can’t penetrate the dark mystery of her father’s past. If her light can’t illuminate the truth, her father and everything she loves may be lost.

Blending science fiction, fantasy, and family drama, Child of Awareness introduces us to the flawed, immortal Usuriel Family. Called a “masterclass in world building,” this sweeping coming-of-age story weaves in themes of loss, belonging, and first romance.

Trigger Warnings:

Mature language, implied sexuality, violence, self-harm, and child neglect

Excerpt

Chapter 1 – My First Heartbreak

The first time I met my father I didn’t know anything about his history. In fact, I didn’t know he existed until I was old enough to read.

As a young child, I knew little outside of the yellowing paint and peeling wallpaper of my mother’s apartment. Occasionally Mother and I traveled to an outdoor park. She’d push me on the swings, a smile on her gaunt face and her dyed blonde hair up in a messy bun. That was rare. More often, my mother slept during the day and didn’t have the energy to take me places in the daylight. Thus, those stained walls contained most of my world.

Not to say that my mother was unloving. Each day she brushed my hair, tutting at how my wavy red strands tangled.

“My hair was just like this when I was a little girl,” she’d say, running her fingers through its silky length. “And so was my nose – covered in freckles, just like yours!” The warm pad of her thumb would wiggle the tip of my nose and I’d giggle. Her smile lit up my whole world. “Ah well, at least you got your father’s eyes.”

“What was my father like?”

A dreamy look would come into her lined face and she’d pull me into her lap. “He’s very handsome. And powerful. I think you’ll like him.” Her arms squeezed me tight. “One day I’ll take you to meet him.”

That day never came.

Like all small children, the rest of my early years have been reduced to a few bright flashes of color and the smell of old tobacco smoke. The last memory I have of my mother, however, has not faded or blurred with age.

I was about five at the time and home alone in our apartment, playing with a stack of chipped wooden blocks. After a time, I rummaged up a bowl of rice crackers from our pantry. I nibbled the edge of one. Stale, but still edible. Standing on tiptoe, I ran the tap into a battered plex drinking cup we kept near the sink. Bringing my prizes with me to the living room, I grinned at my growing block metropolis on the stained rug.

Voices in the hall. My head shot up.

“Stay quiet and…” my mother had said as she walked out the door, waiting as always for me to fill in the end of the phrase.

“Don’t open the door,” I’d intoned dutifully.

With a smile and a kiss on my brow, she’d left in a cloud of perfume and fake fur.

Her instructions had never been tested before. No one ever knocked. The only time the door slid open was at my mother’s palm. To say I was startled at the loud, sudden rapping from the entrance hall is an understatement.

A spooked rabbit, I scurried toward the relative safety of the bedroom. One scuffed shoe caught the edge of my block tower and it fell in a loud jumble behind me.

“Hello?” called a muffled voice through the door.

Available on Amazon

About the Author

AuthorBioSmall.jpg

Abigail Silver grew up in central Pennsylvania but currently makes her home near Charlotte, NC. She shares a humble, one-story abode with her husband, young son, and two fur children. She holds a BFA from Edinboro University in Applied Media Arts. She has been writing novel length work since high school, which was longer ago than she cares to admit. She grew up immersed in her father’s classic superhero comics and his collection of sci-fi thrillers. As an adult, she is an avid Star Trek and Dr. Who fan. When she isn’t reading, writing, or drawing (which is rare) she enjoys blasting music with the windows down on long car trips.

Abigail Silver’s Stories | Twitter | Instagram

Win one of 5, signed copies of Child of Awareness! Giveaway closes November 17th (North America only)

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Book Tour: Catwalk by Nicole Gabor @nngabor @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Catwalk #Books

We’re thrilled to share this new book with you all today! Catwalk is a coming-of-age NA (Mature YA) novel by Nicole Gabor! Read on for more details and a chance to win a signed copy of the book AND a $25 Amazon e-Gift Card!

Catwalk_EbookCoverCatwalk

Publication Date: July 6th, 2021

Genre: YA/ NA Contemporary/ Fashion/ Modeling/ Coming-of-Age

Eighteen-year-old, shy, suburban aspiring model Cat Watson suddenly has it all as the New York fashion world’s new “It” girl and she thinks she has everything she ever dreamed of—until she realizes be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

Leaving her good-girl image behind, Cat quickly learns things aren’t always what they seem on the catwalk, and she’s faced with a decision that will change her life forever.

WILMINGTON, Delaware, April 2021

When 18-year-old Catherine Watson disobeys her parents and ditches her Ivy-league acceptance to start fresh as an aspiring model in New York City, a chance encounter with fashion world bigwigs gives her a world-class agent plus a boyfriend she only dreamed about. But as she navigates the fickle world of modeling, she realizes that to get ahead, she’ll have to leave herself behind—but is it worth it? Catwalk is an expertly written tale of first love, coming of age, and high-fashion, from award-winning author and editor Nicole Gabor, inspired by her own experiences as a runway model.

In her suburban hometown, Catherine had what most would consider a charmed life: a 4.0 GPA, a good-guy boyfriend who had his whole life planned out down to the two kids, two dogs, two-car garage—and it scared her to death. She wasn’t ready to follow a traditional path to a paint-by-numbers existence. She longed for adventure, for a life less…ordinary. When Catherine moves away to pursue her modeling dream in New York City and moves in with Jon-Michelle “Jonnie” who tackles the newly-named “Cat” as “her next project,” she revels in her newfound career, thinking “this is what it’s like to be young and beautiful in the greatest city in the world.”

“At that moment, it hit me. I was a mere mortal in a room full of demigods: actors, actresses, bygone legends of the stage and screen; men and women who had traipsed down red carpets all of their lives, whom the rest of the country, no, the world, had pined for, had paid to know the secrets of. Here I was standing among them, cavorting with twenty-first century royals.”

Cat meets Seth, a beautiful and kind but troubled New York scenester, the son of a ‘70s fashion model icon who fatally overdosed during her prime, and she feels strangely protective. She wants to save him like he saved her on her first night out on the town in New York City’s gritty yet swanky meatpacking district club scene.

When Cat is “discovered” by the one and only Philippe Borghetta, the hottest fashion designer in the pages of Vogue magazine, she thinks she has it all. Her life is thrust into an alternate universe, where star-studded cocktail parties, casting calls, go-sees, and nightclub openings revolve around her like constellations. She tries to play the part. Her former self, “Catherine,” was now a shadow of who she was and what she was becoming.

Cat thinks she’s finally gotten what she wanted all along—a chance to start over, a redo, a refresh. But as the lines blur between who she once was and who she wants to be, she’s reminded of her mother’s words, “Sometimes the things that are most worth fighting for are the things you already have.” Cat finds she has to make a decision that will change her life—and possibly the modeling world—forever.

Drawing on her own experiences in the fast-paced fashion model industry, former model and author of more than twenty children’s books, Nicole Gabor masterfully weaves a timeless story of self-discovery, coming of age, and the heartache of first loves. Catwalk is her debut young adult/new adult novel, available in Summer 2021 wherever books are sold.

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Excerpt

“She was discovered! Discovered by Philippe!” Clive, my new agent (yes, agent!) at Icon, chimed into the phone as I walked into his office to get my daily appointments in late-September.

“Yes, she is booked for the spring show and Philippe’s fall print campaign … Fashion week? Booked solid!” he said, winking at me. “Sorry, honey, she’s in high demand. But for you, maybe we could work something out. Say, time and a half?”

Time and a half? Ohmigod. I still couldn’t believe the turn of events here. This man was talking about me, Catherine Watson, and not some other incredibly fortunate girl.

Pinch me. Smack me. Punch me!

“Oh, she can’t walk out of the house for twice that! … I know, I know, but I’m telling you, she’s gonna be huge! Remember Fosgate?”

The last three weeks had thrust me into an alternate universe, where star-studded cocktail parties, casting calls, go-sees, and nightclub openings revolved around me like constellations. I tried to play along and not think about the catalyst of this sudden success — that fact that I was running around with the son of the dead woman I supposedly resembled. Given its Freudian implications, it wasn’t something I really wanted to dwell on.

Sitting there, waiting for Clive to get off the phone (yes, Clive of the “we have no place for you here” notoriety), I let my mind wander, reimaging for the three-hundredth time the scene in the Icon offices when, weeks earlier, Philippe’s personal assistant called up to ask if I was available for the showing of his spring collection at Fashion Week.

Jaws dropped, eyebrows arched, and coffee cups tumbled, no doubt. Wasn’t I that forgettable girl they had dared to take a chance on to appease their star, Jonnie, only days earlier? My god, yes.

Then miraculously and all at once, as if a fairy godmother had sprinkled dewdrops and glitter into the eyes of all who gazed upon me, I became the most enchanting creature, one worthy of the Icon name. Before I could ask for it, I had a portfolio with my name emblazoned on the cover, a new iPhone filled with go-see appointments, blond highlights framing my face, and hair extensions that would make the Kardashians jealous. I, Catherine Watson, had been “made.” AGH!

But perhaps most unbelievable of all, I had a new name: Cat.

“It’s hip, modern,” Clive had said.

Catherine, on the other hand, was what he called “stuffy, boring, old,” a person his mother would watch on PBS. There’s no denying that. In junior high, I tried shortening my name to Cate, but at the time Cate Winters (the most popular girl in 8th grade) was already a Cate with a “C” and there was no way a peon like me was going to steal her nickname. So, since Cate with a “C” was ruined for me, “Cat” seemed a welcome change.

It was all part of the branding process, Clive said. “Babe, you exude youth and innocence. It’s refreshing! I can read the headlines now: ‘Plucked from Obscurity!'”

Not completely true, but evidently we weren’t going for truth here.

“We’re gonna make you the girl next door, the one out in hicksville driving all the boys crazy with her kitty cat eyes …”

I was excited, but somehow listening to a balding, fat man say “kitty cat eyes” made me want to puke.

“So, I know you’ve got the good girl thing down pat, but you’re going to have to get a little naughty.”

“Naughty?” I said, hoping I misheard him and this wasn’t really the premise for a Hallmark movie.

“Step it up a bit,” he said. “Nice girls with no edge get nowhere in fashion.”

He handed over the contract — about 10 pages of tiny text. I flipped through it, trying to absorb all the information in the five-minute window he had allotted for this purpose.

“It’s standard,” he said. “We get a cut from each job you take, you take home the rest.”

I’d never had to sign something so official-looking before.

“Is it nonbinding?” I asked, having heard my father talk about contracts before and trying to appear in the know.

“Look, it’s what all our girls sign,” he said, slightly annoyed by my dilly-dallying. “Do you need more time? ‘Cause you gotta run if you’re going to make your go-sees in Midtown.”

A part of me wanted to hold back. I knew I should go over the contract with my father, but Clive wouldn’t have gone for that. That was part of the “little girl” mentality I was going to have to shed. I held my breath and signed on the dotted line.

Amazon | B&N | Indiebound | Target

About the Author

PIC.Gabor

Nicole is a published author of more than twenty children’s picture books and an award-winning health writer and editor. Her debut young adult/new adult fiction novel Catwalk, is inspired by her experiences living and working in New York City as a model. Nicole is also a contributor at Highlights for Children and a senior editor at KidsHealth.org, the Web’s most-visited site for children’s health. She lives in Delaware with her husband, three young children, and their Goldendoodle named Ginger.

Nicole Gabor | Twitter | Instagram

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July 12th

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July 13th

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July 14th

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

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July 15th

@tiny.bibliophile (Review) https://www.instagram.com/tiny.bibliophile/

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July 16th

J Bronder Book Reviews (Spotlight) https://jbronderbookreviews.com/

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

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Book Tour: Takakush by Raine Reiter @rainereiter @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #Takakush

We are so thrilled to share this wonderfully dark fantasy with you all today. It’s called Takakush by Raine Reiter!

Read on for an excerpt and a chance to win an amazing giveaway – A copy of the book AND a bunch of swag!

Takakush-Kindle

Takakush: Genus Magic #1

Publication Date: January 25th, 2021

Genre: Mature YA/ NA/ Urban (Dark) Fantasy

When Professor Elena Lukas returns to her cozy Pacific Northwest hometown with a broken heart, she’s plunged back into the fate she tried to escape. Like her mother and grandmother before her, Elena must now dedicate her life to a powerful ancient Lithuanian goddess. Although she is prepared to live as a priestess hiding in a contemporary tourist town, she arrives to find that a series of so-called animal attacks have terrorized her forest.

With the help of a handsome detective from the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, Elena uses her expertise in invasive and endangered species to identify that these are no normal animal attacks. The woods are stalked by a dark, mystical creature bent on ravaging the area in an attempt to quell its insatiable hunger. When her little sister goes missing, Elena realizes that the beast can only be vanquished if she is brave enough to face it in-person, embrace her identity as a high priestess, and expose her powers to the man she is growing feelings for.

Raine Reiter weaves together an empowered, female-centered narrative with rich descriptions of nature and an ever-present sense of mystery. Her vivid, flowing prose takes readers of dark fantasy into a world that looks and feels real, while still evoking the enticing paranormal creativity shared by authors such as Richelle Mead and Kat Richardson.

Add to Goodreads

Excerpt

Crunch, rustle, crunch. Gabby turned toward the noise. “Come on, boy. Here, kitty.”

A statue stood silhouetted against a backdrop of trees. Clouds gathered in the night sky, the moonlight faded, and stars disappeared. Goosebumps rose on her arms. “Trouble?” Gabby got to her feet and stepped forward for a better look.

It took her a moment to recognize the sound; air rasping in and out. Something very close breathed.

Then the statue moved. Gabby froze.

That’s not made of stone. It’s someone. Adrenaline hit her bloodstream with an electric jolt. Her heart sped. Gabby squeaked, short and high as a rodent in a trap. She turned and sprinted toward the house.

Purchase Here!

About the Author

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Raine cavorts in the wilds of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula with her dog, Luke, and writes Northwest Gothic. Her first novel Takakush will be published on Amazon in January 2021. This is the first book in the Genus Magica Series.

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Book Tour Schedule

February 15th

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

The Cozy Pages (Spotlight) http://thecozypages.wordpress.com/

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

The Invisible Moth (Review) https://daleydowning.wordpress.com

February 16th

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

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

I Love Books and Stuff (Spotlight) https://ilovebooksandstuffblog.wordpress.com

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

I Smell Sheep (Review) http://www.ismellsheep.com/

Jessica Belmont (Review) https://jessicabelmont.wordpress.com/

February 17th

@brendajeancombs (Spotlight) https://www.instagram.com/brendajeancombs/

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

@hoardingbooks.herdingcats (Review) https://www.instagram.com/hoardingbooks.herdingcats/

Phantom of the Library (Review) https://phantomofthelibrary.com/

February 18th

@joanna.zoe (Review) https://www.instagram.com/joanna.zoe/?igshid=1xipr7pa6a9zl

Bookish Laura (Review) http://www.bookishlaura.co.uk/

@dreaminginpaged (Review) https://www.instagram.com/dreaminginpages/

February 19th

Didi Oviatt (Spotlight) https://didioviatt.wordpress.com

I’m All About Books (Spotlight) https://imallaboutbooks.com/

Sophril Reads (Spotlight) http://sophrilreads.wordpress.com

Book Dragons Not Worms (Review) https://bookdragonsnotworms.blogspot.com/?m=1

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

 

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Book Release Blitz: Six Strings by C. Billie Brunson @CBillieBrunson @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #SixStrings

Today we’re celebrating the upcoming release of C. Billie Brunson’s genre-bending novel, Six Strings – Available on February 16th!

SStrings Digital coverSix Strings

Expected Publication Date: February 16, 2021

Genre: New Adult/ Magical Realism

Publisher: Liminal Books

Carl Percival (Percy) VanNess inherits a guitar from his father. He’s intent on learning to play and wants to use it as a roadway to fame and riches. But this guitar is not as benign as it appears. In fact, the music produced when it is played incites anyone within earshot to murder whomever is in sight.

Troubles escalate when Carl lets his buddy Peyton borrow the Gibson. Next, Mat, Peyton’s older brother, gets caught up in the same diabolical intrigues surrounding the instrument.

Only Stacey, Carl’s enduring sweetheart, is aware and seems immune to the Gibson’s evil persuasion. Is this due to some latent magic she holds within, dumb luck, or something else entirely?

Can she, with the help of her loyal Lab, Diva, convince her friends to let go of something they cherish before it tears their friendship apart? Might two Djinn token seekers who are after the guitar to fulfill their own agenda put the brakes on her efforts?

Excerpt

“Carl, this is dope. You got some sick strings right here. I’m serious, bro.” Peyton said, picking up the guitar to admire it up close and test its weight.

“Well, duh. Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?” Carl replied, feeling almost giddy with pride.

“I heard. Didn’t get it, though.” Peyton improvised a few notes. “But I do now.”

“You can’t help but to.” Watching his peer strum a few more chords caused a possessive anxiety to rise within Carl and he ran his hand through his hair. It wasn’t long before he felt impelled to intervene. “Enough, newbie. Hand it over. Let the pro show you how it’s done.”

“Hold on, bro. I’m rippin’ some sweet sounds.”

Carl took a deep breath in an attempt to ease the tension that resulted from seeing his precious Charlene perform so sweetly for another. “You’re not too bad. H-how’d you learn to play?”

“My big brother had a guitar for a while. We used to take turns foolin’ around with it. Then, he lost it over a stupid bet,” Peyton said, pausing for only the few seconds it took to say the words.

“Aw, tough luck, Man.”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Fine. Now hand her over. It’s my turn.”

Peyton played on as if he didn’t hear. With eyes closed, he reveled in the sumptuous notes coming from the guitar. Shoulders dancing, his head bobbed in time with the rhythm.

Indignant over being ignored and at the way Peyton’s fingers seemed to grope his precious girl, Carl raised his voice in a near growl. “I’m warning you, Peyton. Better not try me. For the last time, hand her over.”

“Just hold on, bro. I’m ‘bout to throw it dowwnn!”

Unwilling to bear or listen to what that meant, Carl turned, scanning his room for a more assertive means of getting his demand across. A sturdy desk used for homework and other projects offered a mess of school work paraphernalia, among this lay an opened box of pre-sharpened writing pencils.

Without sparing a thought about his next move, Carl stepped over to the desk and pulled a pencil from the package. Holding the pencil like a crazed butcher, he pivoted while lifting the pointed end high. His eyes zeroed in on Peyton’s jugular.

Peyton kept playing, his eyes closed in blissful ignorance of imminent and fatal assault.

Carl drew the uncommon weapon in his hand back and up high as he could, making no sound or alarming movement.

In the next second, the door swung wide and Stacey burst in, coming close to hitting Carl with the door. Startling from his violent mission he dropped the pencil. He deftly shoved it somewhere out of sight with his foot.

“Okay. Where’s this guitar you–Oh, right here. Wow! Carl, you weren’t kidding. This is sooo nice.’”

Peyton jarred from his plucking revelry. “Yeah, uh, ain’t it though? And it sounds amazin’.” Turning to Carl he begged, “Dude, you gotta let me borrow it for a few days.”

“Nope, I don’t gotta. And I won’t.” Carl said reaching and grasping the neck in one hand. “You can let go of it now.”

Instead of conceding, Peyton tightened his grip on the instrument and replied. “What’s the big deal? I promise I’ll bring it back.”

“You don’t need to promise ’cause I’m not lending it.”

“How ’bout if I pay you? A buck a day.”

“No thanks.”

“Two, then.”

“No way, man. She’s not for hire.”

“Oh, so it’s like that, then.”

“Yep. Take it or leave it.”

“I thought you was my bro. But, I guess yer nothing but anotha punk.”

Instead of responding, Carl simply jerked the Gibson free of Peyton’s grasp.

Peyton protested. “Heeey! What the hell? What’s yer problem, fool? Somebody need to show you what it means to share?”

“Yeah? And I guess you think you’re the guy for it.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Bring it, then.” Carl quickly set the guitar aside and turned back to Peyton. He clinched his hands into two stumps of rage and raised them up to punching level. “We’ll see who can teach who.”

They faced-off and moved in a tight, threatening circle.

Stacey rolled her eyes as she broke between them. “Before the two of you throw any punches, I think you should know I’m not impressed.”

Carl and Peyton both let down their guards at the statement. Each looked at Stacey with questioning expressions.

Stacey explained. “I mean if you want to impress a girl with your beat-down skills, at least let the fight be over the girl. Am I right?”

Carl scoffed. But he did move away from Peyton. He picked up the Gibson, slung the strap over a shoulder so she could hang comfortably at his front and sat down on his bed.

Peyton stood grumbling and staring at his feet a few seconds before plunking down onto the small chair beside the desk.

Stacey parked herself on the bed next to Carl. “There. This is good. Way better than getting all to’e up over a guitar. A pretty awesome one, for sure. But it’s still only wood, strings and a few metal knobs—that’s all.”

Carl rushed to correct her viewpoint. “Carlotte’s not just any ol’ guitar. She’s way better.”

Stacey scoffed. “Charlene?”

“Yes, Charlene,” Carl said. “What’s funny ‘bout that?”

“Yeah, Stacey lots of guys who play guitars name ‘em. Mat named his Maxine,” Peyton said.

“And Mat is?” “Who’s Mat?” Stacey and Carl both asked at the same time.

“My brother.” Peyton cleared his throat and made a show of not looking at Carl. “Who knows how to share things.”

Stacey cut off Carl’s low growl. “Whatever, Peyton.” She looked at Carl. “But what makes you say this guitar—I refuse to call it any name—‘better’ than any other one?” She held up a hand. “Wait. I know. Your plan is to use it as a babe magnet, huh? I know how you boys think,” she said, narrowing her eyes in a reproving glare.

“It might be a tired ol’ plan but…Sure. Why not?” Carl teased, giving Stacey a mischievous nudge. “Besides, it gave you enough reason came by today, didn’t it?”

Crossing his arms, Peyton said, “Yeah. Well, havin’ a guitar to catch a girl’s attention is one thing. It’s another to really know how to play? That’s what the honeys go for.”

Stacey said, “I hate to be a…uh, ‘honey.’ But, Carl, can you play something for me? Please?”

Foregoing a verbal response, Carl stood and faced her, purposefully presenting his backside to Peyton.

After making a show of loosening his arms, his shoulders and flexing his fingers, Carl launched into the captivating tune he’d mastered that morning in the garage.

Within seconds, the ambience of the room shifted as he progressed through the melody. Though the light coming through the lone window in the wall behind him did not dim, a cold, sinister presence invaded the air.

Stacey hugged her body and rubbed her hands over her arms against the chill as she tried to listen to Carl’s playing. Movement at the edge of sight caused her to look across at Peyton. She watched with a perplexed frown as he pulled out a drawer to retrieve a pair of heavy-duty scissors meant for cutting poster board or thin plastic sheets. Her frown deepened as she surmise the sleepless, nightmarish parody developing before her eyes.

Peyton pushed up from the chair and took a step in Carl’s direction, holding the scissors ready for effective spiking.

At last determining what she saw was legit instead of crazed illusion, Stacey flung her arms out in alarm. She gesticulated a frantic warning and yelled, “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” But the frigid, melodious aura swallowed her voice.

Carl, intent on performing as he was, misinterpreted her actions as encouragement. He played with more vigor.

Stacey reached the point of leaping from the bed to tackle Peyton when bone-cracking thumps sounded against the window.

Carl stopped playing the song mid-refrain.

Peyton jolted and stepped back as though hit by some invisible stun gun. His attention went to the scissors he held in his hand. For a brief moment, he stood staring down at the now deadly-weapon-turned-crafting-tool and then twisted around to lay it on the desk. He turned back, wiping the palm of his hand on his clothes as though to clean away something vile.

Stacey sat on the edge of the bed huffing and puffing in relief when their gazes locked and she sensed the passing of his moment of murderous insanity.

Oblivious because he’d turned his attention towards searching out the source of the thumping noise, Carl said, “Oh, my dreamcatcher fell.” Then he stepped over to retrieve it from the floor and hang it back on the nail in the wall.

“Uh-huh.” Stacey said. “But…no. It couldn’t have made such a loud sound by landing on the floor.”

“What are you talking about?” Carl asked.

Stacey said, “I think the noise came from the….” Her words trailed off when she noticed the window.

She gasped at the splatter of blood already drying on the sun-drenched pane.

Grab yourself a copy from Amazon on February 16th!

About the Author

IMG_20210118_085214613color

Billie Brunson enjoys writing novels that don’t necessarily fit in any genre “box.” Six Strings, is her second published book, the first of which is Heart of Malice (2015) and she has a number of other manuscripts in the pipelines.

Born in Chicago, IL, C Billie Brunson lived for several years in Indiana and, later, Iowa before moving to Arizona in the 1990s where she has settled in Scottsdale. She’s the mother of two and loves all animals, especially cats.

If you want to connect, you’ll catch her on Twitter more so than any other social media platform.

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