Friday, February 28, 2020

Showcase: Death and Betrayal by Seeley James

Death and Betrayal by Seeley James Banner

 

Death and Betrayal

by Seeley James

on Tour February 17 - March 20, 2020

Synopsis:

Death and Betrayal by Seeley James
Jacob Stearne, ex Army Ranger and current Sabel Security operative, is about to propose to his girl when he discovers that "next generation" weapons are being shipped to our enemies. Some factions in the US government ask him to find the perpetrators while others work to make sure he fails. His intended fiancΓ© does not understand his disappearance and he can’t give an explanation. When Jacob sets out to expose the billionaire intending to auction off national secrets, he is fired, expelled, and hunted by the government that once awarded him medals. If he ever wants to return to his homeland, he must insert himself into the dangerous world of technology smugglers. It’s a place where only the aggressive and ruthless survive. In the cutthroat world of modern-day pirates, every breath he takes may be his last. He must ask himself, can he outsmart the most corrupt billionaires in history before democracy is destroyed? Can he lose the woman he loves to save the nation?


Book Details:


Genre: Thriller
Published by: Machined Media
Publication Date: February 18th 2020
Number of Pages: 300
ISBN: 978-1-7333467-2-6
Series: Sabel Security Thriller #8
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

The man they called Ra stood on the Savannah’s main deck, staring hatred into the eyes of the general’s emissary. The smug bastard needed to learn a hard lesson about respect. Ra took several deep breaths, tamping down his growing agitation without betraying his emotions. The general had a good deal of money to spend. Ra held the emissary’s gaze as he cooled off. He said, “We’re talking about an auction for the most advanced weapon system the world has ever seen. An auction the general could easily win. What concerns could he possibly have?”
Ra resisted the urge to glance over the sea toward Monaco’s harbor. He was dying to see if his darling’s tender was on its way back from town, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted.
“The general does not believe you have what you claim.” The emissary said in his heavily accented English. He gestured with his arms wide, encompassing Ra’s superyacht. “I do not see it here on your little skiff.”
Behind his left shoulder, the emissary’s sycophantic lieutenant made an insolent face to match his boss.
The dig was childish. Ra had the biggest yacht in Monaco, a present to himself after making billions in commodities. Too big to dock in the harbor. Sure, it was post-season, and the Numina would drop anchor due east of him in a few weeks. Until then, the Savannah reigned supreme. He felt like gutting the slimy emissary for his rudeness. Instead, he smoothed his Kiton sport coat and puffed up his thin frame.
“Don’t be a fool,” Ra sneered. “If I kept Alvaria onboard, sleezy generals from around the world would send commandos to take it from me. In case that’s what you’re thinking, rest assured, I have security. We call them ‘the dogs.’ You’ve met two of them.” He gestured to two bulky men in black suits standing close by. “Fido and Rover. Spot keeps watch with a rifle in case someone approaches uninvited. There are more. I have a whole kennel.”
Ra turned his back on his guests and checked the harbor. He couldn’t wait for his darling to return but he needed to conclude this delicate business before then. He didn’t want her to see the kind of men he dealt with. The emissary wore a ludicrous uniform without insignia yet festooned with medals. His black hair was greased straight back with what might’ve been motor oil. The lieutenant dressed and groomed himself to match. The very definition of a toady.
“The general does not believe the system can do what you claim,” the emissary said.
“Oh, my misguided friend. Alvaria is the stuff of autocrats’ dreams.” Ra laid his hands on the railing, keeping his focus out to sea. “Imagine what it can do. At the push of a button, a hundred drones leap into the air, locate their target, and annihilate whoever you choose. Each drone on a single-purpose mission, never stopping until one of them achieves the objective.” He straightened up and turned to face the emissary. “No more political rivals. No more annoying reporters asking inconvenient questions. No more adversaries across your western border. Everyone doing as they’re told, all under the general’s control. As it should be. It’s science fiction—and it’s here today. If your general doesn’t want to bid on it, he won’t get to see the show we have scheduled.”
“The general is skeptical you can obtain this system.” The emissary crossed his arms and widened his stance. “The Americans have impenetrable security.”
“I stand on my reputation. Many times your poor general has failed to pay me in a timely manner, yet I have never failed to deliver what he needs. From rocket launchers to automatic rifles, they arrived on time and under budget. He would still be a lieutenant were it not for me making good on my promises. He knows damn well my word is gold. My plan has been in the works for years. I have all the right people in all the right places. Alvaria will fall into my hands at exactly the right moment. If he does not believe me, he won’t see the demonstration.” Ra paused before making a sympathetic face. “Until his rival uses it to target him.”
To his credit, the emissary didn’t flinch.
“Think about this,” Ra said. “If Iran acquires Alvaria, they could destroy the ruling classes of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait in an afternoon. The next morning, they could annihilate Iraq’s parliament. Then, they invade. The price of oil skyrockets because they would control 24% of the world’s production. Sanctions are lifted under threat of an oil embargo. And just like that, the Persian Empire is reborn.”
The emissary thought while he took a long, deep breath. He pressed a finger to his lips and looked at the deck. After a long moment, he lifted his finger and shook it at Ra. “The general does not like the glimpses of the future you have illuminated. He does not want to participate in your auction. Instead of bidding for it, he will report you to the Americans. That way, no one will have this system.” He paused and smiled. “There will be no resurgent Persian Empire.”
Ra flicked a quick glance at Fido, who sprang into action. To the emissary, Ra said, “I am most disappointed to hear you say that. On a different subject, do you recall meeting my man Bonham in a cafΓ© last month? Bonham is my second-in-command. He offered you money to turn against the general. Ah, I see from your surprise that you do recall the encounter vividly. Well, sport, the problem for you is that when you turned him down, your lieutenant did not.”
As the emissary’s surprise turned to shock, his gaze swiveled to his lieutenant. At that moment, Fido knelt at the emissary’s feet and clamped leg irons on his ankles. In disbelief, the emissary looked down at his shackles, then followed the attached chain to find Rover standing at the railing, holding a very large, very heavy stone. “Do you think you can scare—”
“You’ve been paid,” Ra said to the emissary’s lieutenant. He held out an old, razor-sharp dagger. “Slit his throat.”
The lieutenant stared at Ra in disbelief. “Now?”
“Yes, now. Or die with him. Your choice. Ah. You’ve seen the light. Good man. Right here, above the collar. Stand behind him so you don’t get blood on yourself.”
As the young man weighed the knife in his hand and moved behind his former boss, Ra took out his phone, set it to video, and pressed record. The knife slashed through the stunned and wordless emissary’s neck. Blood sprayed forward. Rover dropped the rock overboard. The chain’s slack disappeared and yanked the emissary’s body with it, over the railing and into the deep.
The young man looked up at Ra, who kept the video rolling. The psychological weight of his first murder began to contort the young lieutenant’s expression. As he pondered his rapidly changing allegiances, he looked down to find Rover placing leg irons on his ankles. Behind him, Fido stood at the railing with another rock. He looked back at Ra and squeaked, “Why? I did what—”
“I think it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ra asked. “You can’t be trusted.”
Over his shoulder he saw the tender bearing his darling returning from shore. She would be onboard in five minutes. No time for long goodbyes.
He turned back to face the lieutenant as Rover slit the young man’s throat. “There are four more of your kind in the general’s private guard. He’ll be dead by morning, so you’ll be in good company.”
The stone dropped. The chain tightened. The lieutenant’s body flew over the railing into the deep.
Ra looked at the pool of blood covering the deck. He snapped his fingers. A steward appeared. “You see this ugly mess? Scrub it clean.”
***
Excerpt from Death and Betrayal by Seeley James. Copyright 2020 by Seeley James. Reproduced with permission from Machined Media. All rights reserved.



Author Bio:

Seeley James
Seeley James' near-death experiences range from talking a jealous husband into putting the gun down to spinning out on an icy freeway in heavy traffic without touching anything. His resume ranges from washing dishes to global technology management. His personal life ranges from homeless at 17, adopting a 3-year-old at 19, getting married at 37, fathering his last child at 43, hiking the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim at 59, and taking the occasional nap.
Seeley's writing career began with humble beginnings including publishing short stories in The Battered Suitcase leading to being awarded a Medallion from the Book Readers Appreciation Group. Seeley is best known for his Sabel Security series of thrillers featuring athlete and heiress Pia Sabel and her bodyguard and operative, veteran Jacob Stearne. One of them kicks ass and the other talks to the wrong god.
Seeley's love of creativity began at an early age, growing up at Frank Lloyd Wright’s School of Architecture in Arizona and Wisconsin. He carried his imagination first into a successful career in computer technology sales and marketing, and then to his real love: fiction.

Catch Up With Seeley James On:




Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!







Giveaway!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Seeley James. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on February 17, 2020 and runs through March 22, 2020. Void where prohibited.



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Thursday, February 20, 2020

Book Review: Journey to the Forbidden City by Deepa Agarwal

Title: Journey to the Forbidden City

Author: Deepa Agarwal

Publisher: India Puffin





Deepa Agarwal’s ‘Journey to the Forbidden City’ is the little-known story of the exploration of Tibet, ‘the Roof of the World,’ by Nain Singh Rawat who mapped the country in disguise in the late 19th century.

Nain Singh Rawat, an unsung Kumaoni hero, was sent to Tibet along with his cousin Mani on a top-secret mission by the British. The British government was desperate to acquire geographical knowledge of Tibet. They were apprehensive that Russia might next try to wrest control of India, their prized colony. On the successful completion of his mission, Rawat was applauded. His contribution to the map of the world was recognised by institutions like the Royal Geographical Society and the Paris Geographical Society.

The book is based on Rawat’s actual diaries and is a tribute to the daring, resourcefulness, and never-give-up attitude of a solitary man who risked life and limb for his job. He went on to become one of the greatest pandits, a select group of highly educated and brave local men trained in geographical exploration. Apart from recording information that the British sought, Rawat also put in his diary a glimpse into the socio-cultural life of the Tibetans and the scenic beauty of the land.

Agarwal’s writing is easy to follow yet crisp. There’s a flow in her narrative that compels one to turn the pages. 

This book is a must read for everyone who is interested in learning about one of the great figures in Indian history.

A beautiful portrayal of a historic and arduous journey of a solitary explorer.





Author, poet and translator, Deepa Agarwal grew up in the pristine Kumaoni region set in foothills of the Himalayas. She writes for both children and adults and has over fifty published books to her credit, including Puffin Classics: Chandrakanta and Listen, O King! Five-and-Twenty-Tales of Vikram and the Vetal.
A frequent contributor to magazines and journals in India and abroad, she has edited, compiled and contributed to several anthologies. Among other awards, she received the NCERT National Award for Children's Literature in 1993 for her picture book Ashok's New Friends, while her historical fiction Caravan to Tibet was on the 2008 IBBY (International Board on Books for Young People) Honour List. Her works have been translated into several Indian and foreign languages.







I'd like to thank the publisher for letting me review the book. I do hope you end up liking the book when you read it. Thank you so much for stopping by, and happy reading!




* I received a review copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

** Picture courtesy: Amazon.in, Penguin.co.in



Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Showcase: Dangerous Ground by Susan Hunter

Dangerous Ground by Susan Hunter Banner

 

 

Dangerous Ground

by Susan Hunter

on Tour February 17, 2020 to March 20, 2020

Synopsis:

Dangerous Ground by Susan Hunter
A Murder Among Friends …

Everyone is anxious to connect with actor Ryan Malloy when he returns to town for his 15-year high school reunion. Everyone except crime writer Leah Nash. She doesn’t have many fond memories of Himmel High’s golden boy. But it turns out she’s not the only one who isn’t a fan. Before the weekend is over, Ryan Malloy is murdered.

The hard-headed but soft-hearted Leah is unwillingly drawn into investigating his death by the pleading of Ryan’s terminally ill mother. She soon discovers that Ryan’s self-absorbed journey through life trampled on the dreams of a number of people. His old girlfriend, his best friend, his own brother, a local businessman—there’s no shortage of suspects—or secrets. But the solution eludes Leah, until the past and the present collide in a dangerous confrontation that threatens one life and ends another.



Book Details:


Genre: Mystery
Published by: Himmel River Press
Publication Date: November 19, 2019
Number of Pages: 364
ISBN: 1698530994 (9781698530994) 
Series: Leah Nash Mysteries, Book 6
Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1
I parked my bike just inside the cemetery gates. It took only a few steps down the tree-lined path for the heat and humidity of a mid-summer Wisconsin day to slide away into the cool dark shade. Overhead, the soft murmur of thousands of leaves stirring in the light breeze accompanied me as I walked slowly toward my sister’s grave. Both of my sisters are buried in the cemetery just a few miles outside of Himmel, Wisconsin. My father is as well. But today it was Annie I’d come to visit.
My heart beat a little faster as I neared the gravesite. I’m not afraid of the dead. It’s the memories they leave behind that haunt me. Quiet Annie with her soft voice and big blue eyes, too shy to join the other laughing, shouting kindergarteners at recess—but the first to run over to comfort a little boy struggling not to cry on the first day. Imaginative Annie, commandeering our wide front porch as a sailing ship for her and her cat, Mr. Peoples, to travel around the world. Kind-hearted Annie, sharing her Halloween candy with me when I’m forced to surrender my own treats as penalty for talking back. Sweet, brave, compassionate, eight-year-old Annie, who ran into a burning house to save Mr. Peoples twenty-two years ago, and never came back.
Over all the years since, people—my mother, my aunt, my therapist (yes, I went that route once), my best friend—have reassured me that her death wasn’t my fault, that I was just a child. But, I was older. I should have been watching over her. I should have seen her slipping back to the house after we’d all escaped. In my deep heart’s core, I can’t ever forget that.
Now and then, and always on her birthday, I go to the cemetery to see her. I know that she isn’t really there. But her grave is an anchoring spot for me. I catch her up on the good, the bad, and the ugly happenings in my life. She knows what hurts me, and she knows what frightens me—secrets I don’t share with anyone else. I tell her what our mother is up to, and how others she knew in life are doing. I say all the things to her that I would if she were still here. I try to make up for the fact that I’m alive, and she isn’t. But, of course, I never can.
When I’m talking to her at the cemetery, it feels as though she can really hear me. And I know that she answers. Not right there, at the grave, but later, in unexpected ways. Sometimes, I hear Annie speak to me through a chance remark a stranger makes, or a phrase that leaps out at me from a book, or a sudden flash of insight on a problem I’m wrestling with. I don’t share that belief with very many people. If I did, I might be forced to resign my membership in the Doubting Thomas Society, to which all good journalists should belong. But I can’t accept that those occurrences are just coincidental. I really can’t.
So, on the anniversary of her birth, once again I sat down on the bench in front of her grave and told her how sorry I was that she had died. That I hadn’t saved her. That I still missed her. And then I told her what was really going on in the seemingly successful life of Leah Nash, former small-town reporter, current true crime author, and soon-to-be business failure.
***
When I say I talk to Annie, I mean that literally. I have a one-sided, out-loud conversation with her, though only when I’m sure I’m alone. Some people already think I’m crazy. No need to give them additional proof. On this particular day, I had a serious problem weighing on my mind.
Not long before, I had made what seemed, at the time, like a brilliant decision. The Himmel Times Weekly, the paper where I’d started out in journalism, and where I’d found a home again after a self-inflicted career injury, was closing. I decided to buy it. I asked a wealthy, community-minded, local attorney, Miller Caldwell, to invest with me. And then I asked a lot of other people—reporters, an editor, stringers, office and sales staff—to work very hard, for very little money, in the hope that together we could keep the Himmel Times alive.
It was exhilarating at first. But it had become an increasing source of anxiety for me. Just as we were getting off the ground, Grantland County Online, a digital-only news site (and I use the term “news” loosely), had gotten a major infusion of capital and a new publisher. Now GO News, as it’s more commonly known, was kicking our butt.
“The scariest thing, Annie,” I said, “is that we’re barely keeping our heads above water, while GO News keeps getting bigger. They don’t have the expenses we do—no print edition, no delivery costs, and they don’t spend a lot of staff time fact-checking. Plus, they started Tea to GO. Did you know that the cool kids say, ‘spill the tea,’ when they mean ‘what’s the gossip?’
Tea to GO is full of ‘What married school official was seen in Milwaukee with a very attractive staff member last Thursday night? Did we say late, last Thursday night?’ That kind of garbage. It’s almost all blind items—the better to avoid lawsuits, my dear. But people are eating it up. Every time you go into the Elite CafΓ©, someone is trying to figure out who the latest gossip is about.”
I paused for a bit of a wallow in self-pity. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried to shake things up at the Times, to get us moving ahead, but so far nothing I’d done had made much difference.
“We have a good team. Miguel is much happier since he gave up the managing editor job. He really didn’t like bossing people. And Maggie McConnell is doing great in that spot. She’s got the instincts, the skills, and forty-five years in the news business behind her. If she could only spin straw out of gold, she’d be perfect. But since she can’t, we’re making do with a budget so lean it might as well be made out of turkey burger.
“I gave Allie Ross—you remember, I told you about her. She’s the high school kid we’ve been using as a stringer. Anyway, I gave her a part-time job for the summer in the office. She’s doing the routine stuff, obits and inside pages copy—weddings, anniversaries, club news. She’s got promise, but she’s only fifteen. Troy, the other reporter besides Miguel, is a little bit of a suck-up—and his news judgment isn’t quite there yet. Still, he’s a hard worker. The stringers are a pretty mixed bag.
“Now, here’s a twist I bet you didn’t see coming. I hired Mom to take April Nelson’s place as office manager. I know, I know, it’s a dicey move. But she’s smart, and efficient, and she gets the job done. Plus, she comes cheap. It’s been a little challenging, I admit. Remember when I used to get mad at her and say, ‘You’re not the boss of me!’ and she’d send me to my room?
“Well, now I’m the boss of her, only I don’t get to send her to her room. Yes, OK, I’m not supposed to be doing the day-to-day. That’s Maggie’s job. I understand that. But I can’t just hide away in my office and write my next book if the paper is falling apart two floors below me, can I?
“Everybody took a leap of faith when we reopened the Times, and everyone is putting everything they have into it. I can’t let them down. I have to find a way to keep us afloat. I just didn’t know it would be so hard, Annie.”
I paused for a breath before I wrapped things up.
“And then there’s Gabe. I don’t know. I like him as well—no, probably better than—anyone I’ve gone out with in a long time. He makes me laugh, and he’s really smart. And he likes strong women who speak their minds. In my experience, a lot of men don’t. So what’s the problem, right? Well, it’s not exactly a problem. It’s more that I’m afraid a problem might be coming. Lately, it feels like he’s pushing me a little, like for a commitment or something. Can’t we just enjoy each other? Can’t we just be without getting all serious, and defining things, and making plans? I don’t want to change things. That’s when things go bad, when you try to change them.”
I slumped back against the bench with a sigh. Usually, when I lay everything out to Annie, it makes the issues seem a little more manageable. This time it all still felt overwhelming.
Then, a voice spoke.
***
Fortunately for my mental health, it wasn’t Annie’s. I turned and looked behind me.
“Coop! How long have you been standing there?” I asked, trying to remember exactly what I’d said out loud. It’s not that Coop and I have major secrets. He’s my best friend, after all. Still, I don’t tell him everything I tell Annie.
“Long enough,” he said with a grin that didn’t offer me much comfort. I tried to move the conversation away from my chat with Annie, particularly the Gabe part.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your mom said you were here. I called your cell, but it didn’t go through.”
“Yeah. It’s a dead zone—pun totally intended—in the cemetery, except for the hill. What did you want?”
“Nothing. I brought something for Annie.”
I looked down at his right hand and saw that he carried a small pot of pink flowers. Pink was Annie’s favorite color. Tears sprang to my eyes. I quickly blinked them away.
“That’s so nice. Why?”
He shrugged. “I know what today is.”
I’m all about keeping my tough outer shell polished, but I was so touched, I couldn’t keep up the facade. “You’re a pretty great friend, you know that?”
He smiled, but he looked embarrassed, and tried to cover it by moving to put the flowers next to Annie’s headstone.
“Did you really come just to put flowers on Annie’s grave?”
“No, not just for Annie. I took some to Rebecca, too.” He was kneeling, positioning the flowers, with his back to me. I couldn’t see his expression.
“Oh.”
Rebecca had been Coop’s wife and my nemesis until she was killed last year. I wasn’t happy that Coop had lost someone he loved, but I couldn’t pretend I was sorry she was gone. She’d done everything she could to break up our twenty-year friendship and came close to succeeding. I couldn’t think of anything nice to say about her. So, I employed the Thumper rule, and didn’t say anything.
Coop apparently didn’t want to get into the subject of Rebecca either, because as he stood and turned to me, he said, “I’ll walk out with you. I’ve got my truck. We can throw your bike in the back and you can ride home with me.”
“Yes, please. I didn’t realize it was so hot. I just about sweated to death pedaling out here.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, taking in my damp, bedraggled hair, slipping from its hair clip, and the beads of moisture coalescing into a river of sweat running down the side of my forehead. “You kind of look like you just took a shower.” He sniffed the air, “Except you don’t have that shower-fresh scent.”
“Shut up,” I said. “I’m a head-sweater from way back. Deal with it.” I smiled though, because there’s something very nice and very easy being with a person who really doesn’t care how you look—or in the present situation—smell.
We walked together in companionable silence, until I’d decided he hadn’t heard any of my one-sided conversation with Annie. That dream died in the next minute.
“So, what’s going on with you and Gabe? He’s a nice guy, Leah. You’re not getting ready to toss him overboard, too, are you?”
“No. Why would you say that? And what do you mean by ‘too’?”
“You really want to go there?” He cocked an eyebrow. It’s a not very funny running joke between Coop and my mother that I always find a reason to cut my romances short.
“No, I don’t. I thought you didn’t believe in illegal surveillance, and what do you call lurking around cemeteries where people are having a private conversation? It’s nothing. Really.”
He looked at me for a second, but all he said was, “OK.”
Our conversation was cut off as a tall woman in her fifties, her hair pulled back and hanging in a long, gray braid down her back, appeared and abruptly crossed the path in front of us.
“Hello, Marcy,” I said.
She looked up as though surprised we were there.
“Leah. Coop.” She nodded but didn’t stop to talk. We knew where she was going. To the top of the hill on which sat a small granite building that resembled an ancient Greek temple. The family mausoleum held Marcy’s grandparents, her own mother, and Marcy’s baby daughter, Robin. One day, it would hold Marcy, too.
We watched in silence as she reached the building, pulled a key out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and slipped inside, like a ghost gliding through a wall. It had been sixteen years since Marcy White’s baby had died, and she still came every week. People said she brought a different book each time and read it to Robin. They said it like it was something weird, or even crazy. Not me, though. I understood why she did it.
“You know what, Coop?” I asked, as we continued on down the path.
“What?”
“I’m calling bullshit on death.”
***
Excerpt from Dangerous Ground by Susan Hunter. Copyright 2019 by Susan Hunter. Reproduced with permission from Susan Hunter. All rights reserved.


Author Bio:

Susan Hunter
Susan Hunter is a charter member of Introverts International (which meets the 12th of Never at an undisclosed location). She has worked as a reporter and managing editor, during which time she received a first place UPI award for investigative reporting and a Michigan Press Association first place award for enterprise/feature reporting.
Susan has also taught composition at the college level, written advertising copy, newsletters, press releases, speeches, web copy, academic papers, and memos. Lots and lots of memos. She lives in rural Michigan with her husband Gary, who is a man of action, not words.
During certain times of the day, she can be found wandering the mean streets of small-town Himmel, Wisconsin, looking for clues, stopping for a meal at the Elite Cafe, dropping off a story lead at the Himmel Times Weekly, or meeting friends for a drink at McClain's Bar and Grill.

Catch Up With Susan Hunter On:




Tour Participants:

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Enter To Win!!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Susan Hunter. There will be 1 winner of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card. The giveaway begins on February 17, 2020 and runs through March 21, 2020. Void where prohibited.



Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 


Saturday, February 15, 2020

Blog Tour: Silver Bracelets by Tari Lynn Jewett

 


Title: #Silver Bracelets:
(#HermosafortheHolidays Book 2)
Author: Tari Lynn Jewett
Genre: Romance
Release Date: February 14th, 2020
#SBWTMO









Tagline: 


A cop who’s been Framed, a klutzy school teacher. Will one of them end up in handcuffs?? Or will they accidentally fall in love?


Blurb:


So, you’d like to go viral on social media?


Fourth grade teacher, Ashley Swensen finds herself in a hashtag nightmare, when a picture of her crashing a bicycle at School Safety Day, goes viral, with the tag #AshleyAccidents.  And why is it that every time she screws up one hunky cop happens to be around? Before she knows it, she becomes an unwilling poster child for community safety. And even a St. Patrick’s Day birthday isn’t bringing her luck.


 Officer Benny (Benito) Lopez just wants to ask the cute teacher for a date, but she doesn’t want anything to do with him. And his friends keep making things worse. Then he remembers his grandmother’s advice, to make a grand gesture.


Will they accidentally fall in love? Or will social media keep them apart? Only her girlfriends and a little ‘luck o’ the Irish’ can help her now. And chocolate of course…


#AshleyAccidents #StPatricksDay #SilverBracelets #TrueLove












The Beach Break Coffee Bar was crowded and the girls squeezed through the throng of people to get to the table Evan was holding for them.


“It’s nice to be connected.” Ashley said as she slid into the seat next to Lucy.


Lucy smiled and started to respond just as Ashley smacked her on the arm. “Nooo,” she groaned. “That’s him over there.”


All three of her friends turned to look in the direction she’d pointed. Five good looking guys sat at a table laughing and drinking beer.


“Which one is he?” Mindi asked.


“He’s the jerky one.”


“You’ll have to be a little more descriptive.” Randi said. “I mean, they all look pretty friendly to me.”


“The one in the grey T-shirt. Don’t let that boyish smile fool you. He’s not nice.”


“I don’t know,” Mindi said. “I think he looks very nice. Look at the way that shirt hugs his biceps. Wish he’d turn this way so I could get a better look at his face.”


“What’s his name?” Randi had to raise her voice to be heard over the band who had moved back onto the stage and were warming up their instruments.


“Officer Lopez,” Ashley answered, trying to be heard over the music.


“What?” Randi raised her voice again.


“Officer Lopez!” Ashley said loudly just as the band stopped and the coffee bar buzz dropped to a din.


Officer Lopez and his buddies all turned to see who had shouted his name, and the lead singer of Reflective Lenses who was already standing in front of the mic picked it up.


“Officer Benny Lopez, you’re not even in the band, and cute girls are shouting your name. How’d you do that?”


Laughter rippled through the little coffee bar and Ashley considered crawling under the table.
“It’s okay Ashley,” Lucy said, “Evan just had a new refrigerator delivered. I’ll go get the box. We can smuggle you out of here without anyone seeing you!”
At least Randi tried to hide her smile, but Mindi made no effort to contain her amusement.





A sweet, funny, clean, light, too short romance, lol! A fast paced hilarious, never say never, or what could go wrong…” - Madm007

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ


“Social media in courtship doesn't always work out especially when your so called friend stuffs it up. Fastpace, lots of laughter, family values coming into play, good friends in most cases. Beware you may end up with sore cheeks and tummy from the laughter you experience in this journey. Loved it.” - Tracy

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ


“Silver Bracelets was the follow up to the Please Say Yes. It was a fast-paced, delightful, romantic story. I love the characters. Tari Lynn Jewette wrote a fun novel with a happily ever after.”  - A.

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ


“Very cute sweet short story. Loved the humor and interaction between the main characters and supporting characters. Small-town and great friends, humor and heart. Definitely looking forward to reading more.” - Ruiz Kim

❤️‿♡⁀🧑‿♡⁀πŸ’›‿♡⁀πŸ’š‿♡⁀πŸ’™‿♡⁀πŸ’œ

#PleaseSayYes 
(#HermosafortheHolidays Book 1)
https://books2read.com/u/mZ




Tari Lynn Jewett lives in Southern California with her husband of thirty years (also known as Hunky Hubby). They have three adult sons, all who live nearby. For more than fifteen years she wrote freelance for magazines and newspapers, wrote television commercials, radio spots, numerous press releases, and many, MANY PTA newsletters. As much as she loved writing those things, she always wanted to write fiction…and now she is.


When she’s not writing, you can find her at the beach, in her sewing room, or curled up with a good book. She’s also been known to play a mean game of pool.


Tari believes in happily ever afters…because she’s living hers.


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Facebook: Tari Lynn Jewett


Facebook reader group: Tari Lynn & Friends

Instagram:  Tari Lynn Jewett