Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Did you love Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children? #99cent #sale going on now! #RPBP @LucyBison

Now's The Time To Start Reading With  A New Author! 
This series is the next in line with some of the greats! 
BOTH BOOKS AVAILABLE FOR 99 CENTS US/UK
A Fun For All Ages New Series Of Modern Day Magic & Adventure. 



Did you love Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children? How about the stories written by J.K. Rowling & Rick Riordan?

Then You Will Love This!


"This Author Has A Truly Inventive Imagination!"

The Changeling and the Cupboard
​The Complications of Being Lucy Book 1

NEVER GO INTO THE PARK.

Lucy was never afraid of the dark. She never questioned her family. She never thought that the world of logic and science could be a lie. But on her ninth birthday everything changed when a strange boy came into her life from the very lands she was forbidden from ever entering and she finds herself immersed in a conspiracy that was created before she was born. Her reality is shattered by the existence of magic and things of legend. The bonds of family are tested by a lifetime of deception and the truth of who she actually is, becomes the least of Lucy’s torments. For someone has unleashed a nightmare, and Lucy, her family, and her new friends, are soon on the run from a creature that even darkness fears.
The Changeling and the Borrowed Family 
The Complications of Being Lucy Book 2

A nightmare is just a dream in the light of day.

Lucy was used to everyone hiding things from her. Now she is the one forced to hide. The Changelings have been discovered and to save herself, Lucy must slip into the life of a creature who shares her nightmares. With her family scattered in search for answers and her only friend powerless to help, all alone Lucy must guard her heart from the world she always longed for and from the people that want her dead. But how can you fight the agony of your dreams and the secrets buried in your own blood.


Who Is Author Gus Kenney?



Meet Gus Kenney

Gus lives in western New York with his amazing wife and five four legged children. He decided he wanted to be a writer when he realized that he could never be a spy as good as Timothy Dalton's Bond and that Hired Sword was not part of any growth industry. When he is not semi-busy writing, he spends his time pretending he knows what he is doing at a nine-to-five job and the rest of it complaining that it is taking way too long for them to start showing new episodes of his favorite cartoons. If you're bored, or just a creeper, you can check out the insanity that doesn't make it into his books on his social media outlets.

Facebook
The Complications Of Being Lucy
Twitter
Tumblr
Instagram
Linkedin
​Goodread's
Amazon
Website

As It Is Blog (Stop over and sneak a peek at Book 3!)

Find out what Gus says when asked the difficult question, "What is your favorite part of the story?" Click Here!

Interested in speaking with the author?
​Email him: guskenney@yahoo.com

Gus was asked a slew of questions during an in depth interview with Rukia. Here is just one Q & A from that interview. 
Q: Any tips on how to get through the dreaded writer’s block?

A: Honestly, write something else. Anything at all. You can't get truly blocked unless you stop completely. Sure the story you have been focusing on for months suddenly stalls. No need to fear. Just prime the pump of creativity with some other ideas. Do the paint chip trick (look it up on Pinterest). Look online for story prompts(also Pinterest). Take your characters and put them in strange and unusual scenarios that would never come up in the world you created for them. Write something off the wall like a race of people that aren't carbon based but cocoa based (I call them Fudgelians). If all else fails do some dishes. That always works for me. Don't believe me? Come to my house and wash them. You'll see. 
Get to know the author!

Great News! Gus Kenney has something he wants to share with you!
A Rafflecopter Giveaway
 & 
Name The Character competition!



 Name The Character

Author Gus Kenney is offering a chance to name one of the characters for Traitor's Neice, Book 3 in 

The Complications Of Being Lucy Series!

The Rules:

Get book 1(The Changeling And The Cupboard), snap a pic of you with the book like the one above(if it's an eBook open it on your ereader device), tag us (Gus Kenney / Margaret Daly) and post your picture! That's it! The winner will be announced on Facebook on The Complications Of Being Lucy Page!

Now's the time to get your copies of these books, each priced at 99c/99p.

Then enter the competition to name the character in Book 3!


Don't miss this opportunity to not only read the next hit series, but to be a part in the story yourself!
Thank you for joining us today! We hope you're coming away from this with a better sense of this new hit series by Gus Kenney...

If you have any questions you can normally find Gus on FB, or you can send him an email. 
Have A Great Day! 
Please remember to leave a book review, just a few simple words is all!

Friday, December 2, 2016

Release Day Blitz! The Case of The Dead Dowager by @JudithLucci! #RPBP #ASMSG #Thriller


Retired homicide detective Michaela McPherson and the aging Countess Dorothy Borghase team up again—this time to match wits with two serial killers stalking children, women and the elderly.
When Dottie Borghase's friend Camilla Rothrock collapses at a lunch gathering of old friends, the countess's only concern is to dial 911 for help. But Camilla's subsequent death has authorities buzzing about international safety and retaliation, because her son is decorated U.S. Army General Stuart Rothrock.

As other restaurant patrons in Richmond meet similar fates, Michaela and Dottie join forces with the Richmond Police and the FBI to track down the pair of heinous murderers. But in order to catch the killers, they will put their own lives and the lives of others in in serious jeopardy.What Price Must a City Pay to Keep its Citizen's Safe?

Book link: http://bit.ly/GetCaseofDowager


How about an excerpt:
Dottie turned off the main highway and headed south to Blackstone Virginia. Madame Toulescent lived just outside of Blackstone and that's where she conducted her psychic readings. She wished away the butterflies that cramped her stomach. She had a sense that what she was going to hear wasn’t good. She wished she didn't believe in the value of psychics or the unknown but she did, and that was that. She’d seen psychic readings and prophecies come true time after time during her life. Mic wasn’t a believer at all but had grudgingly admitted psychics had helped them in a case about ten years ago.

The speedometer on her car registered over sixty miles an hour on a forty-five mile limit stretch of highway. I'd better slow down. The last thing I need is a Virginia state trooper on my tail. She braked and her car skidded but she handled it skillfully. The Cadillac was a big, monster car but she really liked it. Since Dottie had lived in the US, she had always preferred German-made cars and previously owned multiple Mercedes Benz. Of course, when Count Borghase had been alive, they’d always driven Italian cars, mainly Ferraris. But now she was pretty much American and she loved her Caddy. There was something about the Cadillac that was so plush and so American that she bought a new one every couple of years.

She saw an old gray mule in the pasture out of the corner of her eye and saw the fence that was lying on the side. Dottie didn’t know what she’d do if they ever repaired that fence. She’d been looking at that fence on the ground for years and it was her landmark just before she turned onto Madame’s private road. She knew her turn was just up ahead. She slowed for a farmer carrying a load of hay in an old truck. He was hogging the entire road. Now where in the hell am I supposed to go? She steered her big car to the side of the road as far as she could without falling into the ditch. She cursed and held her breath as the farmer passed her. She swore the farmer missed her by less than an inch. The old codger hadn't even looked her way. She shook her head and cursed again softly. She threw her white Caddy into first gear and roared out of the ditch spewing gravel, dirt, and mud all over the road. She saw three rabbits running for their life and hoped she hadn’t interrupted their nest. Dottie drove a little further and made her left turn. She turned right on the first road and started the difficult trip along the horrible, rutted road to Madame Toulescent’s tiny home. The road was almost a mile long. Dottie's tall, thin frame bounced all over her plush leather seat and her hair fell out of her neatly arranged bun. I'm going to have to take a pain pill. All this jumping around is killing my hips. Secretly Dottie new she needed to have her hips replaced but there was no way she was willing to do that, at least not while she could walk. I wouldn't be able to help Michaela. And then, what would she do?

Madame Toulescent waved at Dottie from her front porch filled with flowers and beautiful hanging baskets of petunias and begonias. Her small white cottage was immaculate. Madame Toulescent watched her painstakingly steer her huge Cadillac down her battered road. Dottie brought the iron beast to a stop, looked in her rearview mirror and re-pinned a piece of white hair that had worked its way out of her perfect updo. Even though the Madame lived in a house that was little better than a house trailer, Dottie had been trained from birth to always look perfect when visiting. This task had become monumental at age 82. She reached for her purse and checked to make sure her Glock was nestled in its special pocket. She checked her lipstick in the mirror, pinched her lips together, cursed the fine lines around her mouth and got out of the car.

"Hello Madame Toulescent. Thank you for seeing me today on short notice." Dorothy smiled her gracious smile at the psychic, showing her beautiful white veneers, once available for a large price from the famous, dentist-to-the-stars Dr. Michael Smirkowitz.

"You are so welcome, Countess Borghase." Madame Toulescent looked around the empty fields and through the trees and gestured with her arm. "As you can see, there is no waiting line. Please come in. I've made us some tea." She paused for a moment and said, "Watch the steps. They're in need of repair," she cautioned.

In need of repair, my butt, they need to be rebuilt Dottie climbed the rickety steps dodging rusty nails and wood splinters. She grasped the loose railing and posts that held up the old front porch. The last thing she wanted to do was fall and break something. She followed Madame Toulescent into her small but neat and cozy home. There was a wonderful scent in the air and Dottie’s mouth watered.

"Please have a seat in the easy chair," the Madame offered. "I'll bring us some tea and sweet bread."

Dottie nodded and smiled her thanks as she carefully studied Madame Toulescent. She wasn't sure of her nationality. She thought she was Eastern European but she seemed very much like the French and her house had several amazing pieces of French country furniture. In years past, she had asked the Madame about her former life, but the psychic seemed unwilling to share her past. Her voice had a strange accent Dottie couldn't identify which frustrated her. Dottie had traveled the world and she knew the languages and dialects of most ethnic populations. But she couldn't figure out Madame Toulescent’s origins. That puzzled her.

Madame handed Dottie a cup of herb tea. The aroma alerted her senses and she immediately felt more awake and inspired. The tea had given her energy and awareness. She took a sip. It was delicious.

"Oh my, Madame Toulescent. Whatever is in this tea? I feel a million times better just from smelling it. You’ve got to tell me where you got it because I know Cookie would love it too," Dottie gushed as she sipped her tea.

Madame Toulescent smiled and said. "I made the tea. It's a blend of ginger, mint, lemon verbena and a few other things I grow in my herb garden. I'll send some home with you. It's sweetened with honey I collected from my bees yesterday." She smiled briefly, and her lips stretched over teeth that could benefit from a cosmetic dentist. "That's probably what you love so much."

Dottie nodded and studied the Madame. The years hadn't treated her so well. Dottie didn't know her age but her face was a mass of wrinkles that blended one into the other. Dottie guessed each wrinkle had its own story. Her skin appeared soft but deeply creased. Her jet black hair was streaked with gray and hung freely past her shoulders. She wore a simple blue shift with a silver belt and wore tennis shoes and socks. She smelled of lemon and freesia.

Dottie, as usual, smelled of Chanel #5. "It's so lovely out here, Madame. Do you ever come to town?"

Madame Toulescent shook her head. "Very rarely. My neighbor collects my groceries for me when I need them and as you know, I have a huge vegetable garden and I can and freeze most everything I need. I like it here and I like to stay with my animals - my dogs, cats, cow, mules and horses. It's quiet here and my love is nature."

Dottie nodded. She couldn't imagine staying in these four walls every single day. She supposed she didn't have the patience and gentleness of spirit that the Madame had. But that was okay. Dottie was very happy in her own way.

The two women shared a comfortable silence and continued to sip their tea until the Madame asked, "How can I help you today, Countess?" She smiled at her and said, "I can tell you have some significant things on your mind and that you are troubled."

Dottie put her teacup down and said, "Yes, I do. Have you been watching the news?" Dottie saw the woman pale under her sun-darkened skin.

Madame Toulescent nodded. "You’re here about the poisonings, aren't you?"

Dottie held Madame’s dark eyes with her own and said, "Yes, I am. Camilla Rothrock was one of my dearest friends and I need to know who poisoned her."

Madame shifted her gaze to the floor and said, "Countess Borghase, this is a very bad business that is happening. I've had some visions and they are upsetting. It reminds me of the evil work of Hitler in Germany."

This time it was Dottie who paled, her heart beating so hard she could hardly breathe. "Oh my God, Madame. We both remember his devastation in Europe and the millions of people he murdered."

Madame Toulescent rubbed her hands together, her face grim. "Indeed we do. A sad and sorry time. Let's move into the back where I work and see what we can see."

Dottie stood and followed Madame to the room in the far back of her modest home. It was a glass room with beautiful views into the forest. She left her teacup on the coffee table. Her heart thumped dangerously in her chest and she was short of breath. She was so terrified she almost lost her balance. She gripped her purse and cell phone in her hand. She was scared and just the idea of having the Glock made her feel safer. Could the evil be so strong it permeated her soul?

“Countess, why are you so upset? What can I do to help you?” Madame Toulescent looked at Dottie with concern.

Dottie stared at her but her eyes said it all.

“Let me get you something to calm you down so we can have a good reading. Please stay in the chair and I’ll be right back,” Madame Toulescent said as she left Dottie and walked to her kitchen.

Want To Read More? Read Chapter 35 here!

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Butterflies Fluttered~ 'Family Forever' by @VClarizio A #Contemporary #Romance. Available now #RPBP

I'd like to introduce my wonderful friend Va Clarizio who writes dynamite Romantic Suspense. She has a brand new release, Family Forever that came out last week on October 26th. It's doing great in the charts. Val and I are both authors in the long running "Stories from the Sun, Sand & Sea," a collection of beach romances that are still so popular, we're changing the cover to 'winterize' the collection. Anyway, look below for Val's info. You're gonna love her books!

The death of Dylan’s parents leave his five younger brothers and the family dairy farm in his care.


Neighbor Marissa, raised by an alcoholic father, seeks a way out. Desperate for help, Dylan offers her a live-in nanny/housekeeper position. She jumps at the opportunity. The chaotic household, full of love, feeds her maternal instincts. She falls for Dylan and the boys.

When Dylan finds himself desiring Marissa, he pulls back. His heart has been broken in the past by women resistant to a large, ready-made family. But if she walks away, she’d not only break his heart but those of his brothers, too.

Will Dylan ever believe in Marissa’s devotion to his family, risk his heart, and those of his brothers, for the woman he loves?

Available Online at: http://smarturl.it/famfornew

Valerie Clarizio lives in romantic Door County Wisconsin with her husband and two extremely spoiled cats. She loves to read, write, and spend time at her cabin in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

She’s lived her life surrounded by men, three brothers, a husband, and a male Siamese cat who required his own instruction manual. Keeping up with all the men in her life has turned her into an outdoors enthusiast, of which her favorite activity is hiking in national parks. While out on the trails, she has plenty of time to conjure up irresistible characters and unique storylines for her next romantic suspense or sweet contemporary romance novel.

Author Interview

Can you tell us a little bit about where you are from?
I grew up in a small farming community in Wisconsin and went to a rural high school. After I graduated, I moved to a nearby big city–population 7,700 at the time. The population is now just over 9,000. LOL–Real big city, right? Anyhow, my hometown is the heart of Door County Wisconsin. You may have heard of it because Door County is a major tourist destination. We get over 2 million tourists a year in our beautiful little county.

What does your writing desk look like? What would we find on it right this minute? 
My writing area is kind of tiny and usually tidy. I can't work in clutter. Right now you will find on the surface of the desk a cup of coffee and bowl of oatmeal. This is my typical writing scene because I usually write before I head off to my day job which starts at 8:00 am.

When and why did you begin writing?
The ‘want’ to write came to me about eight years ago. I had just finished the course work for my Master of Business Administration degree and found I had a boatload of time on my hands. I always held a full-time and part-time job while attending college at night, and suddenly I found I had nothing to do at night. I was bored.

An avid reading friend of mine handed me a Janet Evanovich book and I promptly said, “No thanks.” The last thing I wanted to do was read anything. I’d read enough text books to last me a lifetime, and up to this point in my life I had never read for pleasure. She pushed the book toward me and urged me to read it. I read that book in two days, and then I read every book Evanovich penned. When I was done with her I moved on to JA Konrath and Leanne Banks. I logged over 50 books read in the first year. They were much easier reading than text books I was accustom to. Anyhow, one night I dreamt up Detective Nick Spinelli and I thought to myself that he would be an awesome character for Evanovich to write. After more thought, I figured I should just do it myself, and did.


At what point did you first consider yourself a writer?
It was when I received that first contract offer for the first novella in my Nick Spinelli romance mystery series.

Do you have a specific writing style? In other words, are you a plotter or a pantser?
I guess I'm more of a panster. I always know how I want the book to start and end, but the middle takes me on an unknown adventure.

How did you come up with the titles to your book(s)?
I've only actually named two of my books, Family Forever being one of them. My friends and BETA readers have named the rest.

Do you write about things similar to your own life experiences?
Definitely. Pieces of my life's experiences show up here and there in every book.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
Virginia McCullough. When I began submitting my first book to agents and publishers I didn’t understand why my book was being rejected, and I was on the verge of giving up when this this awesome lady, Virginia, from my writers group offered to take a look at it. She critiqued the first few chapters and provided lengthy feedback in regard to POV, dialogue tags, pacing, etc. Not only did I read her comments numerous times, I studied the corrections and suggestions she made in the document itself, and then I re-wrote the book based on her feedback. I dare say, the re-write took twice as long as writing the book in the first place, but it was worth every painful minute once I saw that contract offer pop up in my email.

What are you currently working on? Can you give us a sneak peek?

Here's a peek at the war travel book that I'm working on. The main character has just been wounded in a Civil War battle.

Her soft, comforting gaze mesmerized him for the briefest of moments before the doctor twisted his arm sending a stabbing sensation through his nervous system. Blake gritted his teeth as the doctor's fingers probed into him. A splash of alcohol followed. His flesh pricked with the intensity of being stung by a thousand wasps. As the sensation lightened, little picks and pulls to his skin took over. That, he could tolerate after the stabbing and severe stinging. The pick and pull continued as the doctor stitched him up. The stench of blood and rot permeated his nostrils.

The woman loosed her grip on him, dampened a cloth in a container next to the cot and rung it out, before pressing the cool material to his forehead. She repeated the process.

Without word the doctor rose to his feet and moved on to the next wounded soldier.

Blake stared into the caring woman's eyes. He swallowed a couple times to moisten his itchy throat. "What is your name?" His voice not much more than a whisper.

"Ariel."

A perfect name for a guardian angel. At the moment, that was what he felt about her, she'd saved his life.

Ariel patted his forehead again with a refreshed, cool cloth.

"Can you tell me what in the hell is going on now?"

She nodded. "Your dad didn't tell you, prepare you, did he?"

"Prepare me about what?"

Ariel drew in a breath and let it out. "There's no easy way to say this so here goes. You’re a time traveler. It's a power that was passed onto you when your father died. He obtained it from his father, and so on."

Blake pushed her hand away, and thrust himself into seated position. Pain ripped through his arm. Sweat dripped from his forehead and stung his eyes. "That's crazy."

Ariel lifted her hand, and palm up swung it around. "Is it? Take a look around you. You're in the middle of a Civil War battle. In what year were you born?"

Blake glanced around the makeshift hospital, then returned his gaze to Ariel. "1967."

Do you have any advice to offer other writers?
Write what you want. Write from your heart. Stick with it!


Excerpt - Heat Level PG13

          Butterflies fluttered in Marissa’s stomach the second Dylan’s dark gaze zoned in on her. She’d have to remember to send Mrs. Moore a thank you card for the gift she’d just given her. Dylan would never have asked her to dance on his own. He’d have to stop treating her like a little sister, or a wounded puppy first. She wondered if that day would ever come. Would the handsome man holding her now ever be able to see her as she wanted him to, as a woman? She didn’t seem to have a problem getting Jake or Cole to look at her that way, but Dylan was another story.

          She leaned into him, not as hard as she would have liked but hard enough to let him know how she felt. His muscles stiffened against her. Excellent, she got his attention.

          Though she wasn’t sure if it was his intention, his hand splayed across the small of her back and he pulled her closer to his firm body. Her breath hitched, and his masculine scent intoxicated her. Sure, she’d smelled him before, but never at this close proximity. She inhaled slowly and deeply, taking in his cologne, sending her on a natural high. The array of sensations rising in her were more than she bargained for. Her heart raced, and her blissful mind soared to a divine place much like she imagined heaven would be. Her body felt light as Dylan swayed her to the music. Were her feet even touching the ground? She wasn’t sure.

          Dylan stepped back, removed his arm from around her waist, and released her hand, but his gaze held hers for a moment longer. It took her a second to realize the music had stopped completely. The band was taking a break. How could they? Didn’t they know every cell in her body needed them to keep playing slow country songs so she could enjoy the comfort of Dylan’s arms?

Monday, October 24, 2016

"ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS I’VE READ THIS YEAR!" A Journey of Self Discovery~@SusanJourneys #99cents #RPBP #ASMSG

'GOOD MORNING DIEGO GARCIA!'
A Journey of Discovery (Journeys Book 2)
by Award Winning Author Susan Joyce
Available in eBook, Paperback and now Audio format!
JUST 99c/99p(eBook)

You’re young, living comfortably in southern California. You’re financially secure, though you don’t know why or how. Your husband simply ignores you when you ask too many questions. He’s hoping for another job overseas, doing something. You’re not sure what, but you suspect it’s not what he says.


You marriage is shaky. You survived a war in Cyprus together, and lost everything. Now you’re basically biding time.

A letter arrives from friends you knew in Cyprus. They’re sailing a new yacht from Taiwan to Europe for a Swedish millionaire. You’re invited to join them in Sri Lanka, as crew. Neither of you knows boats, but you’ll learn — it will be the trip of a lifetime, cruising the Indian Ocean in a pleasure yacht!

And, it turns out, in monsoon season. With no charts. And an emotionally unstable crew mate. What could possibly go wrong?


SPOILER: everything.
ENTER TO WIN!!!!

See More about Susan Joyce at her Meet The Author Page
Learn More About This Book & Other Work by Susan Joyce at her Book Showcase Page!
Get Your Copy of Good Morning Diego Garcia for just 99 cents! This special price won't last forever!

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Put A Song In Your Heart with Love, Christmas #BoxedSet! Available for just #99cents now!!! @MimiBarbour #RPBP #Bookboost

99c/99p Boxed Set


Love, Christmas 
Holiday stories that will put a song in your heart!

♫♪Put a song in your heart with 20 all-new Christmas Romances from NY Times, USA Today, and national best-selling authors. Each brand-new title is inspired by a Christmas carol and will lift your spirits and bring on the holiday cheer.♫♪

Available Online 
99c/99p


Included Stories & Authors
1. We Need a Little Christmas – Leanne Banks - Can a handsome cynic become a Christmas believer?

2. Frosty the Snowman – Mimi Barbour - Love sparks when a blizzard entraps strangers.

3. Last Christmas – Joan Reeves – Annabelle gave him her heart, but Rick threw it away – now he wants redemption – but she has another R-word in mind: Revenge

4. Holly Jolly Christmas – Mona Risk - In love at 18, but not ready for life and a Baby

5. Do You Hear What I Hear? – Patricia Rosemoor - Shelley and Jake are in a cold war over Christmas!

6. White Christmas – Rebecca York – Was she in a coma, or was she in a Christmas fantasy?

7. So this is Christmas – Denise Devine - Old friends find new love at Christmas.

8. Grown-Up Christmas List – Donna Fasano - All she wants for Christmas is to feel safe…

9. Blue Christmas (by the Sea) – Traci Hall - Christmas brings the unexpected gift of love.

10. Santa Baby – Taylor Lee - Christmas on the run is anything but Merry!

11. Let it Snow – Stephanie Queen - She left, now he longs for her--is it too late?

12. Merry, Did You Know? – Jennifer St. Giles - Can the miracle of love change their future?

13. O Christmas Tree – Alicia Street - Can her love make him let go of his painful past?

14. Sleigh Ride – Katy Walters - The baron has evil designs on her, not the Earl.

15. Deck the Hearts – Rachelle Ayala - Elf versus Grinch. Whose heart wins?

16. Silver Bells – Jacquie Biggar - Will a Christmas wish bring a family together?

17. Hark the Harold Angel Falls – Michele Hauf - To earn a halo she must get him to stop loving her

18. Drummer Boy – Dani Haviland - 18th century drummer boy to the rescue!

19. I’ll Be Home For Christmas – Nancy Radke - Escape, survival, love.

20. Santa Claus is Coming to Town – Cynthia Cooke - Wanted--Elf for Santa, Christmas magic required

Follow New York Times, Award-winning & Best-selling author

Mimi Barbour


Friday, October 7, 2016

“There’s enough here to kill everybody..." The Case of the Dead #Dowager @JudithLucci #RPBP #IARTG


The Michaela McPherson Mysery Series
by Best Selling Author 

Get this new series for just 99 cents!
Dr. Dude is on sale for 99c/99p, but today is the last day before it goes back to normal price!
Dowager is available for the special preorder price of 99c/99p!
The Case of the Dead Dowager: 
A Michaela McPherson Mystery Book II 
(Michaela McPherson Crime Thrillers 2)
Rukia Publishing Featured Book Of The Week


The Case of Dr Dude: 
A Michaela McPherson Mystery 
(Michaela McPherson Mysteries Book 1)

Get this new series starter for just 99 cents!
Today is the last day!!!!!!
About The Books
A young woman disappears after a job interview at a 
well-known dentist’s office in Richmond, Virginia and retired homicide detective Michaela McPherson, along with her close friend, the aging Countess Dorothy Borghase, and Richmond police join forces to solve the crime. This case pits them against evil and greed armed with tentacles that span continents and generations.

http://bit.ly/ViewDrDude


What Price Must a City Pay to Keep its Citizen's Safe?
A lunch gathering of old friends at Richmond’s historic Hotel Jefferson finds Countess Dottie Borghase dialing 911 to report the sudden collapse of her dear friend, Camilla. The subsequent death of Camilla Rothrock, the mother of decorated U.S. Army General Stuart Rothrock, has authorities buzzing with concerns about international safety and retaliation.

When other restaurants have patrons succumb to similar illnesses and death, the Richmond Police, local FBI and their Washington profilers assist Michaela and Dottie in the chase of two nefarious and heinous mass murderers without souls or conscious.




The Case of the Dead Dowager 
A Michela McPherson Mystery 



Chapter 1 
“Perfecto, this stuff looks flawless,” Boris said in his thickly accented voice as he held a test tube to the light. The Russian smiled broadly, his thin lips stretched across his decayed teeth and skeletal face. The light from the window outlined his permanently crushed, but healed anterior skull that gave him the look of the monster he truly was. He agitated the test tube between his fingers and re-examined its contents. It was a masterpiece. “There’s enough here to kill everybody in Yankee Stadium and all the cops in Richmond,” he predicted from his tall, though stooped height of six feet, five inches. He reached for a small glass container and transferred a portion of the five gallons to a laboratory beaker. He held the larger quantity up to the window and examined the liquid. “And look, there’s no residue in the bottom and the fluid is perfectly clear.” He turned around to his partner and gushed, “Perfecto, my tovarich, perfecto!”

Snake laughed and clapped his partner on the back. “Way to go, tall guy. Good deal. You know we gotta maximize our efforts. Neither one of us wants to work hard or take extra chances, especially now since they’re lookin’ for me anyway.” Snake moved closer to the glass carboy and smiled as he saw the colorless, odorless and tasteless five gallon drum of liquid. “Man, that looks good. Does it have a smell?”

Boris bent his shiny, bald head forward and sniffed deeply. “No, not that I can tell. I can’t smell anything, but I haven’t got a good nose anyway. “You give it a sniff and see what you think,” he said as he gestured towards the liquid.

Snake moved next to the large glass container and noticed additional small beakers and test tubes of fluid sitting to the side. Each container was labeled and numbered. “You must’ve been a hell of a chemist back in the day,” he remarked as he finger-combed his greasy black hair off his face. Sometimes he wore it in a ponytail but he hadn’t pulled it back today. He bent over and sniffed the carboy. “Nah. Nothing.” He shook his head and said, “I can’t smell nuthin’ either. Good job, my man,” he said enthusiastically, a slow smile spreading across his swarthy, pockmarked face. “You’re a real scientist.”

Boris lit a cigarette, coughed and said, “Man, you have no idea of the stuff I can do. You ain’t seen nothing. I got more killing recipes than Carter’s got little liver pills.” He smiled ominously and showed his rotten teeth. Snake felt a tinge run up his spine. This guy even looked like the monster his reputation claimed he was. He decided to watch himself carefully around Boris and never give him the upper hand.

Snake nodded, “Yeah. Well, I got plenty of chances to see your talents this week!” Once again he checked out his partner and sized him up. He was a dangerous, unpredictable, scary dude.

“Yeah, but I’m never tellin’ you much,” Boris assured him. “There’ll most likely be one day I’ll wanna kill you,” he admitted, the broad grin again slicing through his pale, skeletal face. This guy’s serious. He is crazy.

Snake ignored him and brushed invisible lint off the front of his blue scrubs. “Shut-up man. No need for talk like that.” He knew Boris was a madman, totally wacko. His handlers had told him to be careful. But the money had been too good to pass up and besides, he could take good care of himself. His reputation spoke for him. He had no idea who his bosses were and little was known about the Russian scientist. Rumor suggested he’d long been a mortal enemy of the United States and other stories suggested he was an assassin. Snake didn’t want to push the point. He picked up the container of fluid and placed it in front of him, his face a mask of evil.

“You know what, Boris, old man, I’m thinking we can wipe out an army… or at least a police force with this stuff. Whatdaya think?” He gave him a half smile.

Boris stared at him, his cold grey eyes, bony face and crushed skull glistened in the low light from the barred windows. His eyes roamed the room to the large aquarium that housed all kinds of prickly fish and marine life. The huge tank glowed eerily in the fading light. Boris stared at his fish fondly and gave Snake a strange look and said in a quiet voice, “Of course we can. I already said that. What do you think the plan is?”

Chapter 2 

“Dottie, where did you get that marvelous Italian leather bag? I’d die for one like that,” Camilla Rothrock gushed in her drawn out Alabama accent. “I’ve just gotta have one.”

Dottie held up her newest leather pocketbook so all of her best friends could ooh and ah over it. “I had it made especially for me in Italy,” she bragged. The bag was beautiful, soft and buttery between her fingers. “I really love it. Look, it has a special gun pocket stitched in so I can carry my very own Glock,” she said proudly as she pulled her gun holster out of her purse and swiftly returned it before anyone noticed.

Margaret Massie glared from her from across the round table. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Dottie! Give it a rest! Whatever do you need to carry a gun around for? We’re a bunch of old ladies. No one is gonna mess with us,” she admonished as she rolled her eyes and batted her false eyelashes at her best friend of many years. “We’re hardly ever left on our own.” She glowered as her friend.

“Margaret Massie, how can you possibly be so short-sighted?” The Countess Dorothy Borghase exclaimed, disgust evident on her aging, but still lovely face. She flipped her head and a long piece of silver-white hair escaped from her elegant chignon. “After all you’ve been through?” She stared at her friend in disbelief and continued, “That’s precisely the reason we need to pack some heat. Because we are old and weak and can’t run as fast. We’re sitting ducks for most of the bad guys out there.”

Margaret squinted her eyes and frowned at her. “Pack some heat? Really. You sound like you’re in a …” Margaret paused for a moment and looked at her friends, “what do they call it, a gang. What is it? Gangsta talk, or however you say it?” she added sarcastically. As the wife of one of the wealthiest men in Virginia and a blueblood from birth, Margaret didn’t know much about gangs or crime. “But still, Dottie… really, a handmade purse… from Italy, nonetheless, especially designed for your gun? Puhleeze. That’s ridiculous, a bit over the top, wouldn’t you agree, Kathryn?” Margaret asked as she glanced over at Kathryn Lee who was watching her friends an amused look on her face.

Kathryn Lee of Wyndley Farm in Hanover County laughed, her blue eyes crinkling in the corners as she smiled over her water goblet at her friends of many years. Kathryn was the wife of law and order politician Congressman Adam Patrick Lee of Virginia and she clearly had an opinion. She was one of the best target shooters around and could shoot better than most men. She opened her mouth to respond when Dottie interrupted her.

Dottie rearranged one of the intricate wire combs holding her classic up do in place. Her silver hair gleamed under the brass and crystal chandelier in Lamaire Restaurant at Richmond’s historical Hotel Jefferson. “I didn’t design it just for my gun,” she said defensively. “I designed it for my cell phone, my makeup, for the color of the leather, the intricate stitching, the design, and beyond that, the label,” she replied in a snarky voice. Dottie paused for a moment and added, “Besides Vitrio Lanbrucci has been designing fine leather for the Borghase family for over a hundred years.”

Margaret rolled her eyes and turned to Kathryn. “So, Kathryn, what do you think? I know you’d tried to answer my question a few minutes ago,” she said pointedly as she turned to stare at Dottie, “but the Countess forgot her manners. Don’t you think Dottie’s gun purse is a little over the top?” Really,” she opined, a smirk on her face.

Kathryn opened her mouth to answer when Dottie interrupted again, her vivid blue eyes wide with concern. She stared at Camilla who looked strange, frightened, actually. Her pupils were wide and she seemed unable to speak.

“Camilla, whatever is the matter with you? Your face is flushed and your eyes are enormous. Are you ill?” Dottie asked as she rose from her seat.

Kathryn was alarmed as well since Camilla was unable to respond. Her eyes stared wildly at them and she opened her mouth but no words came out. Suddenly, she fell forward, and her head lolled on the table.

“Kathryn, call 911 on your phone. She must’ve had a stroke of something,” Dottie commanded as her heart raced with fear. It could be my head lying on the table and not Camilla’s. Life seemed very precious to Dottie at that second. I sure don’t wanna die in Lamaire restaurant in the Hotel Jefferson. What a spectacle that would be! Of course, she knew Camilla’s didn’t either and as she stood by her friend, tears popped into her eyes. I’ll have to call General Rothrock and tell him something dreadful has happened to his mother.

Kathryn flagged a waiter and moved closer to Camilla’s chair and checked her pulse. She could barely feel it as it was weak and irregular. Kathryn looked into Camilla’s eyes and her pupils that were huge and dark, liquids pools of fluid that saw nothing. Her face was flushed and red.

A moment later, a young waitress carrying a huge serving tray staggered forward and then fell to the floor, spilling food, water and wine all over the oriental carpet. She lay prone and unresponsive.

“Make that two ambulances,” Dottie motioned to the maitre’d who was on his way over.
Join Us on Facebook!
New Swag is coming in!

Monday, August 29, 2016

East -A Novel A New Release by @PeriHoskins! #Travel in #Aus, #Spiritualism. #RPBP #ASMSG


It is 1994. Our junior lawyer narrator leaves behind a small, mean and viciously circular life representing petty criminals and takes to the road.
'East-A Novel'
by 
Peri Hoskins
​It’s 1994. Junior lawyer, Vince Osbourne, leaves behind a small,
mean and viciously circular life in the city representing petty criminals and takes to the road. He’s lived 30 years. The wide continent of Australia is out in front. He’s almost young. Where will the road lead?
East takes in sunsets; rain in the desert; a five-year-old girl on a bike; a battered former thief and jockey; old-timers; young lovers; beautiful women, and aboriginals in public bars. The open road connects many vignettes making a rich tapestry of human encounters.


East is poignant, gritty, funny, sad and above all: human. Hoskins’ laconic prose captures the harsh, arid country in all its big, empty beauty along with quirky exchanges with strangers, travel buddies, shop assistants, workmates, and friends old and new. A journey without and within, East taps into the spiritual realm that lies beneath this land and its people.Leaving
The bonnet in front of me is big and white. Rain on the windscreen – the wipers sweep it away. The clouds are grey, the road is grey, the suburbs are grey and I am leaving. There is joy in that. I’m leaving it behind – a life – small, petty, viciously circular. Out in front is the road and I don’t know where it will end. I am free. I’m almost young.
A beginning. Renewal pulses in my blood, pumping out from my heart, through my veins, feeding me, making me new again, a keenly conscious being reaching out to the uncertainty. This road will lead me to places that I have not seen – to people I have not met. There’s no place I have to be and no time I have to be there.
I drive on and on leaving the city far behind. The rain clears. Sunlight glints on wet grass and trees. I see farmhouses, fences and cows. The gnawing in my belly eases as I’m gently enveloped by the freedom of the great mystery now upon me. The shackles of the old life fall away, for I’m shedding a skin – dry, worn, old and scaly. I found the courage to step into the dream. And the dream has become real.
The life of a suburban lawyer is behind me. Small decisions. Small repetitions. Which tie to wear today. Pay the electricity bill. Sunday – iron five shirts for the week ahead. See the same people. Say the same things. Hear the same things said. In that life I wondered whether I had it better than the petty criminals I represented in court. Some had no job and no home. They pleaded guilty and I said what I could say, for something had to be said. And then the court, that street-sweeper of humanity, tidied them away. For there must be a place – there must be somewhere for them to go: a prison, a halfway house, a drug rehab centre. There must be a place for everyone – somewhere. These people had fallen through cracks and become untidy. Did they envy my tidy life, those that I helped to tidy away? Did they see my life as I saw it – not a tidy life, but a tidy prison?
Tidiness. I had been taught to lead a tidy life. What was it they had said – the teachers, the headmasters? Work hard at school. Get a good job. Be a good employee. Pay your taxes. Mow your lawns. Be a good neighbour. Be a good citizen. Lead a tidy life. Not a full life, a varied life, a great life – no, a tidy life of small neat circles. I have lived thirty years.
As the trees and houses and petrol stations whistle by, the reasons for leaving once again crowd my mind. At thirty, life no longer stretches out before me like an uncharted great ocean. If I live to be eighty, more than one third of my life is spent. Where am I? At a time of life when I’m supposed to be somewhere – I’m nowhere I ever wanted to be. I’ll taste the last drops of youth before the cup passes from my lips, forever. The familiar yearning claws at my insides again – but it’s different now – it’s happy knowing I have been true to it – finally.
The yearning … a murmur in a corner of my soul ... that’s how it started … a couple of years ago ... I pushed it away. I was busy; there were things to do. It kept coming back, stronger and stronger: a growing gnawing that would not be denied. The day I turned thirty, I came to know what it was, finally. It was the feeling of having missed my destiny. At one of life’s important junctures, I don’t know when or where, I’d taken the wrong turn.
So maybe that’s what it is: a journey back down life’s highway to try and find the turn I missed. A journey to reconnect with who I am and what I should be doing here – in this life. Did I ever really want to be a lawyer? Maybe I did it because my father didn’t finish law school. Maybe I did it for him, and not for me. Didn’t have the courage to find my destiny and follow it … settled for safety and caution. And the small repetitions of the safe life had closed in and were suffocating me. Don’t know if that’s what it is … I had to go – I know that much … it was the most honest thing I could do. And now it’s real: this journey with no end and no decided route. It’s a big country. Yeah, I’ll head east ... And in my travels maybe I’ll find something of the soul of this land and its people ...
I have been at the wheel for four hours. The muscular movements needed to keep the car on course have become automatic. My thoughts drift freely now, first to the future – new, pregnant with possibility – before anchoring in my childhood. I recall a long-buried idea – from a time of wonder at a world full of possibilities. As a child I thought I could see into people, a kind of second sight.
Memories flow into my mind – sharp, clear, focused. I see things now as I saw things then. I am a small boy sitting in the passenger seat of a car. My father is driving. We approach an intersection. A policeman is standing in the middle directing traffic. He signals the car in front to stop. The policeman fascinates me – his neat blue uniform, high black boots, long white gloves – his precise hand signals. He makes cars stop and go by moving his hands like the man who made the puppets move at the fairground. The gloved hands move and the cars obey, crossing the intersection, slowly and respectfully passing the uniformed man.
From above I hear the noise of a plane. In the eye of my mind as a child I see the silver wings and fuselage. The policeman’s eyes turn skyward to the plane I see clearly in the window of my imagination. The officer’s long-gloved hands slowly fall to rest at his heavy belt. Cars bank up at the intersection. The driver in front looks at him for directions but he gives none. Unconscious of the traffic, his attention is focused in the sky above. The face of the policeman loses form and I see into him. First I feel his discomfort in the hot uniform, the dryness in his throat and the tiredness behind his eyes. Gradually my perception deepens. I sense the numbed heart, the thwarted ambitions – the hopes and dreams unrealized and gone awry. He doesn’t want to be here, directing traffic. The past has cheated him. He is disconnected from the present and fearful of the future.
A car horn honks from behind. A driver doesn’t know why the traffic is not moving. The policeman’s eyes return to the traffic, his arms snapping up with military precision. As he waves us on, the look of purpose clothes his face once again and the moment of seeing into him has passed.
The second sight would come to me without warning and always just for a fleeting moment or two. I would see my mother trying to hide an emotion or catch my father unguarded, looking into the distance. In the moment of second sight the physical would melt – the body become transparent and amorphous. Instead of seeing the person I would see into the person – reach inside to the heart, sense the fears, touch the dreams – see the humanity, raw and struggling.

Want To Sample More? Click Here!
5 Stars Across The Board
A winner!
To be honest; ‘East’ is not the kind of book that I typically read. I am more used to Zombies taking over the world and all kinds of science fiction. I read ‘East’ in an attempt to diversify. I am glad that I did. There were no Zombies, no alien attacks, but instead; I was presented with the story of a lawyer in Australia who walked out on his old life and started a new one. He has adventures; some good, some bad as he travels across the country. Hoskins writes with a brutal honesty that brings the character to life. After reading this book, I felt like I had an “insider’s view” into what life was like for some folks in Australia in the mid-90’s. That is the whole purpose of reading; isn’t it? To get into other character’s lives and to experience things you would otherwise have no clue about. Hoskins does a masterful job of drawing you in to his world with vivid descriptions and a detailed insight of the character’s observations as he travels from big cities to remote locations. It wasn’t an easy journey; but it certainly was entertaining! 
~By Ken Gusler

East - a journey you won't regret going on.
Once again, as with Hoskins’ other book, Millennium, I was not disappointed. The novel, East, has something of a Kerouac and Cormac McCarthy feel to it; a tone that suits the on the road style journey that the main character, Vince, takes. East is refreshingly honest in its commentary about society’s foibles, life, the people Vince meets (themselves on their own journeys) and Vince’s own reasons for self-exploration. In some ways, the characters Vince meets along the way are a perfect foil for Vince's reflection; themselves giving the reader greater insight, not just into humanity, but also into Vince himself (and, dare I say it - ourselves). Through his travels, we learn more about Vince’s life and the need to connect with his father, seek approval; and in doing so, find some form of self-acceptance within a society that is quick to identify and perhaps vilify, the “other”. Hoskins’ ability to capture the humanity in the characters he writes of, some of them less than sympathetic in personality, prevents the personalities that populate East, from existing as caricatures secondary to the main character, Vince’s, own journey. East will make you think, smile, laugh, gasp, shake your head and reflect upon your own attitude to yourself and your place in the world around you. Oh, and the moment with his father – perfect. I thoroughly recommend this novel. 
~By Kate 'griz' Pill


Excellent writing and an awesome book.
I loved this book it made me want to pack up my truck and take an adventure like the author Peri's character Vince did.
I really enjoyed this book set in Australia in the style of Jack Kerouac On the Road. The author Peri paints a picture of a dissatisfied lawyer, named Vince who decides to pack up his car and head east for new adventures. He comes across many interesting characters each impacting his life in their own ways. He's 30 years old and searching for his life's purpose after leaving his promising career in law. He sets off on his soul searching journey to find himself and gets entwined in the lives of the supporting characters. Staying with friends, youth hostels, and camping he finds his nomadic journey to become a spiritual quest and opens himself to whatever is meant to be. I felt invested in Vince as the main character and I wanted him to find his life's purpose and happiness. I highly recommend this wonderful book especially if you're a traveller or are ready for a new adventure.
😃~By Jsack

I couldn't put it down.
East is the intriguing, unsensationalised journey of Vince who has recognised the impotence of 'normal life'. Vince's process of finding that infamous unknown "something" unfolds through the delightfully detailed descriptions of the characters he encounters.
The way in which Vince's experiences are delivered is morishly unique; both unsettlingly raw and yet comfortingly nonjudgmental.
Peri Hoskins drew me into the life of his protagonist with humble mastery. 
~By Teresa Herleth
Read All The Reviews! Click Here!
Who Is Peri Hoskins?
Peri Hoskins is the author of 'Millennium – A Memoir’, a travelogue memoir that has received many five star reader reviews. Christopher Moore of the New Zealand Listener had this to say about ‘Millennium – A Memoir’:

'Written with perhaps the merest of bows to Joseph Conrad and Robert Louis Stevenson, the book’s colourful cast of characters come together to greet the dawn of the 21st century. It’s a vigorously written sly-humoured account of human encounters in a small place lapped by the tides of change…It’s a genial well observed book that insinuates itself into the affections.’

~Christopher Moore, New Zealand Listener, 2 August 2014.
​Peri Hoskins was born in Wellington, New Zealand. He is the second son of a family of five children, four boys and a girl. He is of mixed Maori and Anglo-Celtic ancestry. Peri grew up in Whangarei, Northland, New Zealand, a provincial city then home to about 30,000 people. He was educated at Whangarei Boys’ High School where he twice won a national essay competition. After completing high school and winning the school prizes for English, History and Geography, Peri went to Auckland University where he studied law and the humanities, including history and English literature.
Peri was substantially based in Australia between 1985 and 2005. He completed his study of law and the humanities at the University of Sydney including several courses in philosophy. He worked as a lawyer in New South Wales before embarking on a 1995 five-month road trip all around Australia. This road trip comprises the material for his soon to be published second book, East. Peri subsequently worked as a lawyer in both New South Wales and Queensland, and developed his current specialisation in legal work – civil litigation. In December 1999 Peri travelled to the Kingdom of Tonga to be in the first country in the world to see in the new millennium. The diary of his three weeks in Tonga has become his first book, Millennium – A Memoir. In 2004 Peri completed a post graduate diploma in film and television production at Queensland University of Technology.

Peri now lives, writes and works as a barrister (being a self-employed lawyer) in Northland, New Zealand.

Connect With Peri Hoskins

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Linkedin / Pinterest / 

Subscribe To Peri's Email List!
Peri will keep you informed about his work and send occasional previews or special offers.
Millennium: A Memoir (Vince Osbourne Series Book 2)
It’s December 1999, the cusp of a new millennium. The tiny Pacific Kingdom of Tonga will be first in the world to usher it in. We travel there with our narrator to see the sun set on the old and the dawn rise on the new. We discover much more.

In a time and place of old customs we see the gentle advance of the new. This Pacific paradise is home to a diverse group of human beings at this unique time. Our journey with our narrator through many human exchanges – quirky, funny, and sad – accompanied by quotes from Hindu scripture echoes through the millennia and asks us what it is to be human in these dark times.

This book constantly entertains and delves beneath a fascinating surface to examine the quality of our age.

Millennium – A Memoir is a novella-sized slice of life travelogue of about 25,000 words. In capturing the time and the place this book evokes the work of Ernest Hemingway.
Get Millennium Here>>books2read.com/millennium