Hook, Line, and Murder GG Calpo (The Sweet TOOTH Murder Mystery) Published by: The Wild Rose Press Publication date: February 9th 2026 Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery, Mystery
What does Meg, a retired kindergarten teacher, do when the killer of her husband and only child still walks free a year after dirt had covered their graves? Go rogue, of course!
When the detective responsible for Meg’s nightmares takes over the murder investigation of her former student, Meg hunts the killer down with help from her friends. Their cozy lunches at Sweet Buns Café turn into tactical meetings while these retired grade school teachers get themselves in trouble better suited to those in their twenties. And to put the icing on their cream scones, someone is after Meg. Is it the killer? Or has Meg uncovered secrets better left buried with her loved ones?
The day was beautiful, with clear skies and a mild snap in the air. It was cold yet warm with the right amount of heat from the sun, making it the perfect spring day. Motorboats and sailboats dipped in and out of the water, out by Poet’s Bay. And at the edge of the harbor were the fishermen, alone or in groups of two or three, a rod in their hands and their tackle boxes opened beside them. We rounded the corner, almost done with our walk, when we saw mothers dragging their children away and fathers covering the eyes of the children in their arms. Pushing against the stream of parents scrambling away were others whose eyes were fixed on the man by the harbor’s edge. A man on whose fishing line dangled a catch with, what I thought were, red fins and a red tail swaying lazily around the hook.
Red? In the salt waters of Poet’s Bay? As I stood there trying to figure out what I was seeing, Barbara shoved her way into the crowd. I followed, my curiosity getting the better of me. Murmurs of “Good morning” and “Good to see you, Mrs. B” trailed behind me, changing to “You sure you want to see this, Mrs. B?” and “I wouldn’t go any further if I were you, Mrs. B.” We fetched up to the front and looked down on the ground before us while the fisherman beside us puked his guts out.
It wasn’t a fish he had caught.
Instead, on the ground was a hand. Just a hand. Nothing else.
Author Bio:
GG Calpo is a retired lawyer and accountant who traded contracts and numbers for the far more enjoyable chaos of fictional crime. Now she writes cozy whodunits featuring warm-hearted golden-aged sleuths who’ve seen it all, heard it all and will investigate a murder with zero hesitation. She loves stories where the stakes are personal, family and friendships are paramount, with characters who refuse to follow the outline and endings that pull the rug out. When not plotting twisty crimes—on paper only, of course—she spends her time reading, crocheting blankets and sweaters for her five grandchildren, watching mystery TV shows and taking long walks in her neighborhood. She lives in Central New Jersey with her husband and two corgis, Whiskey and Nugget.
Continuing from THE SIMPLER, Senga Munro’s disappearance prompts
discussion as to -what- she may be. Her herbal notebook has been discovered in
an old man’s medicine bundle from the 1800s, wherein Senga details her
captivity in an underground cave. One morning, she awakes in a Cheyenne camp,
believing she is part of a living history project. Upon her extraordinary
return, she discovers a world altered and transformed by “The
Phenomenon,” an evolutionary leap in consciousness that has reshaped
global values and circumstances.
Through its rich tapestry of characters, historical elements, and
philosophical musings, the series explores the complexities of human
experience, the sacredness of the Earth, and the transformative power of
compassion and understanding. It is a meditation on the struggles and triumphs
that define both individual lives and collective humanity.
About the Author
Renée Carrier and her husband, a retired school superintendent, tend a
small apple orchard, two gardens, and raise garlic and herbs—medicinal
and culinary. Renée is a past recipient of the Frank Neilson Doubleday
Writing Award by the Wyoming Arts Council. She continues to sing and play the
odd musical performance and practice family herbalism, which wends its way
into her writing “like a possessed vine.” She enjoys knitting, walking,
reading, viewing good films, and traveling.
When Frost Was Spectre Grey Nicola Italia Publication date: August 30th 2026 Genres: Adult, Historical, Mystery
Yorkshire, 1881. Imogene York has one job: authenticate a dead man’s signature and witness the reading of his will. It should take an afternoon.
But the moment she arrives at Trelawney Grange, she can tell the people gathered to hear Lord Alaric Trelawney’s final wishes aren’t waiting on an inheritance. They’re waiting on something they’ve spent fifteen years hoping would stay buried.
Every person in that house-the doctor, the solicitor, the reverend, the aristocrat, the household staff who move through it like they were never there at all-is bound together by a secret from one terrible summer years before, and no one will say what it is. As the snow closes in and the will’s true purpose comes to light, Imogene realizes she wasn’t hired to verify a signature. She was hired to witness a reckoning fifteen years in the making, and there is no walking away from the past.
A gripping Victorian mystery about the debts the past never stops collecting, and the lengths people will go to keep a secret buried or to finally bring it to light.
He shivered as a draft moved through the room. He sorted through documents spread out before him, organizing them into careful piles. He thought about the conversation that had occurred and anger exploded inside his head. The upstart!
What did he know about anything? He, who had studied with Dr. John Snow, so renowned in his field. His throat was dry. He pulled the decanter of whiskey toward him and poured. The amber liquid splashed on a piece of paper but he brushed at it dismissively.
He drank it quickly and it seared his throat but he poured himself another. He contemplated the glass this time before drinking. He should have known. Those do-gooder types didn’t understand the true sacrifice he was making. They couldn’t see the big picture. They couldn’t see what was really happening. What he was trying to do. He set the glass back down without taking a sip and saw that his hand was shaking. Blast it! It had all been going so well. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? Now what.
He looked about the room. The draft no longer bothered him and he felt a sweat break out on his brow. There was much to do. But most importantly, he must find his medical notes. They had been right here on his desk. He was certain. It was a necessity. No one would have come into his room and removed them, had they? No. They wouldn’t dare.
He pondered it. Perhaps his assistant, the new fellow fresh from school, had simply moved them. No. He wouldn’t. He had expressly told him not to meddle with his things. He didn’t like it and he had everything just as he liked it. So where were they, dammit!
A knock sounded at the door and almost caused him to jump. The hour was late. Who could it be?
“It’s me,” the familiar male voice called out.
His benefactor. The one with all the purse strings. He must play the part at least for him.
“Just a moment,” he called back.
He looked at his reflection in the window and saw that his hair was disheveled. He took out a comb and quickly brushed his wavy hair in place. The desk was in disarray and he quickly placed the papers in neat stacks to show the appearance of order.
Jesus, what awful timing. He called the man to enter and the visitor did, looking about the room.
“Am I interrupting you?” the older man asked.
“Certainly not,” he replied. “I was looking for some misplaced medical notes. That blasted assistant must have moved them. I told him not to meddle.”
The older man settled himself into the red leather chair. “I wanted to speak with you privately. It’s important.” He swallowed visibly and appeared to be trying to find the words.
“The hour is quite late.”
“It is. You’ll forgive me.” The older man nodded. “I would have waited but—” He almost stumbled over his words.
“It must be something of great importance to bring you here at this late hour,” he noted.
His benefactor seemed to take in the words and almost seemed dazed. “Yes,” he said in agreement. “Something most concerning has reached my ears, most concerning,” he repeated for emphasis.
The man had no time for this. What’s more, he didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. It was irritating that in all of his important work, he had to give the man anything. For Christ’s sake! Didn’t this feather-head realize what was at stake? But he steeled himself and responded as he should.
“What is this concern?”
But instead of answering outright, his benefactor merely looked about the room. “I scarcely know where to begin.”
In a flash of blinding anger, he resisted the urge to stand up and reach over the table to slap the man’s face. Who did he think he was? How dare he presume anything? The man might have status and money but little else. Just because he had been born into the right family, what else did he have? Brains? Certainly not. If he had been born a common person, he would be selling fish at the docks.
But he calmed himself. He knew who he was. He was the one with brilliance and brains, decidedly so. He was the one who had risen and become the man he was today. He was the shining star. But he needed the older man’s patronage. He knew that. He would have to play the game, then, and pretend to care about whatever was preying on the man’s mind.
If the man told him something stupid like they had not enough places set at the dinner table or the china was mismatched, he might strangle him.
Instead, his expression stayed mild, untroubled. “Tell me the concern. Perhaps together we can alleviate the issue.”
Relief eased across his benefactor’s face. “Yes. This must be a mistake. It can’t be what I’ve been told. I heard something from my sister, but she can ramble. But then the vicar came to me—”
“Oh yes?”
“And the family solicitor—”
“Him as well? My, my,” he said, trying to pretend to care. “What is it they are saying? Tell me quick.”
He only hoped he would tell the story quickly so he could be on his way.
Then without preamble, his benefactor began to speak. He laid out the whole issue, the concerns, the rumors and the whispers that were being spoken about and how grave the matter was. He mentioned his sister’s concerns and a young man who had spoken to the solicitor’s son and on and on the man babbled. He thought if the man was a tenor opera singer, his aria would last thirty minutes. It was exhausting and supremely irritating.
“It’s fantastic – is it not?” His benefactor said. “Most fantastic. I can hardly fathom it myself. I told Delly she was ridiculous. She should know better than to pass on rumors.”
“That is – quite a story,” he agreed as he pulled the decanter to him once more. “Quite a story.”
He poured the man a drink and pushed it across the desk to him. He took up his glass from earlier and took a long sip. “What proof is there of these allegations?”
His benefactor’s shoulders dropped. “That’s just it. Some rumors and whispers. But as it’s reached my ears, as your benefactor, we must discuss it.”
“My, my.” He set his glass down. “And what are you prepared to do?”
“Get to the bottom of it!” His patron said passionately. “Good God, man! These are lies, slander! I’ll not have you slandered! You could sue in court. I’ll be your witness,” the older man’s face grew red with exertion.
“Very decent of you,” he murmured. He swirled the amber liquid in the glass absently. “Very decent of you indeed.”
“Of course, my dear chap,” the older man looked relieved. “Least I could do.”
The mantel clock chimed the half hour.
“That’s of course assuming these rumors are false,” he said quietly, taking another sip. “What if they are true?”
His benefactor looked slightly irritated. “This is no time for jests, old boy,” the older man said curtly. “The rumors are grave. I might even say macabre.”
“Macabre?” he echoed.
“Yes!”
But he just continued to stare at his patron while swirling the liquor in the glass.
“Wait. What are you – what are you saying?” His benefactor suddenly straightened up in his chair. “In plain English. Gentleman to gentleman. I demand you tell me what is happening.”
“Your witnesses speak the truth.”
The silence between the two men was deafening.
“No. No, that can’t be.” His patron grew pale.
“I assure you, it is,” he said, his mouth curving.
His benefactor suddenly looked sick in the low gas lights. “No. I- I don’t believe it,” he whispered.
“Well, you certainly don’t need to believe it.”
“But if the witnesses are correct, and the rumors are true,” he visibly swallowed, “you’re a—” He shook his head.
“Yes? Go on.” He was amused at the turn of conversation. The man was an idiot.
“You’re a monster.”
He sat back in his chair and surveyed his patron. “Come now. There’s no need for dramatics.”
But his benefactor stood up then. He looked flushed now.
“I demand you refute these rumors laid at your door! I demand it!”
Calmly without saying a word, he pulled a cigarette from his silver case and lit it. He took a long drag before responding. “The rumors are not rumors,” he said steadily. “Your witnesses are correct.”
The man’s face drained of color.
“I’m leaving tonight,” he told him. “There need not be any fuss or theatrics. I will leave quietly and continue my work in India. The matter will end and you will squash the rumors.”
“The hell I will!” His face was now mottled with anger. “The hell I will!”
He took another sip of whiskey completely unbothered by the man’s outburst.
“If these things are true, you should be imprisoned! Hanged even!”
“No, sir. I won’t be.”
“Why won’t you be?” The patron demanded.
“For the simple reason that you helped me. Your family helped me, your vicar helped me. You are complicit. Whether you like it or not,” he told him.
“No,” he whispered and fell into the chair. “I’m not. That’s not what I did. I thought – I thought you were helping. I thought you were a savior. We all thought that.”
“Hmph! Did you really? Or did you also want to be involved with the discovery of a lifetime?” he said coolly. “Perhaps you wanted to even take a bit of credit as my benefactor.”
His benefactor sputtered out several words but nothing made sense until he finally whispered, “How dare you?”
He poured himself another glass enjoying himself and the interaction. “So. As I said. I will leave quietly. You will let everyone know that I was called to India of the utmost importance, and nothing else will be said.”
“You can’t get away with this,” he said weakly. “You can’t.”
“My dear chap,” he said, his face showing no emotion. “I already have.”
Author Bio:
Nicola is a Los Angeles native. Early in elementary school, Nicola had a great fondness for reading and began to write creatively. She graduated from university with a degree in communications and has held a variety of positions in journalism, education, government and non profit.
Nicola has traveled extensively throughout Europe, China, Central America and Egypt and loves all things historical.
She has nineteen historical romance and mystery novels on Amazon.
From author LM Fox comes the next steamy, marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, second chance romance. It stars a down on his luck playboy who has spent his life in the shadow of his successful older brother and the one woman who could turn his whole world upside down.
Step 3: Find a fake wife before time and money run out.
Everyone in town knows Samuel Lee is a reckless playboy who lives in his successful older brother’s shadow. And honestly? I’ve accepted that. Why bother trying when everyone expects you to fail? If you’re going to be labeled “The Spare,” you might as well have a good time doing it.
But when my grandfather’s will drops a bombshell, the party comes to a screeching halt. His legacy hangs on one impossible condition. I have to settle down, marry, and prove it’s real.
With time running out and my pockets running dry, there’s only one woman who can make this work. And I’ll need a damn miracle to convince her to wear my wedding ring. Because Alexis Patterson despises the very ground I walk on.
This is more than marrying my old childhood friend. If I manage to persuade this strong willed beauty to consider this, how do I walk away when it’s over? I’m certain when the lines between fake and real begin to blur, it will be torture. I already know I want it all: the vineyard, the town’s respect, and the love of the one woman who was always supposed to be by my side.
Wanted: Rogues and Bards AJ Sherwood & Jocelynn Drake Publication date: September 11th 2026 Genres: Adult, Fantasy, LGBTQ+, Paranormal, Romance
Welcome to E.V.I.L! (Every Villain is Legendary.) Mission Guidelines:
Be evil. (Except, y’know, when someone’s in trouble, or might need a rescue out of an open grave, things like that.)
Adopt new members. (At least, Fenric would love to keep the sexy bard, but would Lirion even want to join them?)
Retrieve Fenric’s mother’s stolen treasures (and beat up the heroes who stole them if possible)
Rescue Lirion’s sister and wait, what do you mean breaking up a sex ring and helping a village from being overrun by finfolk LOWERED our villain rankings overnight?
Future Goals: climb the villain rankings, find a lair, get revenge, and trash talk The Box
Welcome and try not to die (but if you do our necromancer will raise you).
This book contains: questionable baking practices, Tub Time™, and emotional support pecs.
Tags:
LitRPG, gay romance, shapeshifting, high fantasy, possessed clubs, accidental poisonings, chosen family, heroes vs. villains, band of brothers, a shapeshifting rogue, an elf necromancer, a loquacious barbarian, a warlock with a talking stick, a half-merman pirate, a poisonous Puppy, quest of vengeance, Fenric’s not sure how he became the mother hen of the group, Maxie doesn’t need more seduction lessons, Lirion begs to differ, Tub Time is sacred, incompetence can be sexy, apparently, High Seas Hijinks, another example of a bard f*cking his way in AND out of trouble, if villain bad, why hot?, calling all passengers: Hop on board, the shenanigan ship is about to sail! Skelebabies
“The only problem is that no one knows how things are ranked. The ministry has always kept that a tight secret,” Malfas joined in. “No one knows if they view kidnapping a family of five as more or less evil than killing a priest of say, Sabu.”
“Or is kidnapping a family of five farmers worse than kidnapping a family of three nobles? No one knows!” Rain whined.
Malfas nodded. “These are the kinds of things we need to know if we’re going to climb the rankings.”
Fenric scoffed. “Or even get on the list.”
“E.V.I.L. isn’t currently on the list? How big is the list?” Maxie asked as he turned to pour the eggs onto the hot skillet.
“Twenty spots each. Top twenty heroes and top twenty villains,” Rain answered.
“After all the information is gathered, the minister meets with his twenty chancellors,” Fenric continued to keep Rain from heading down the path of listing all the reason why those twenty villains didn’t deserve to be on the list at all. “They compare the new information with the last released rankings and discuss the results. Following a month of debate, the Ministry of Hero and Villain Affairs releases both lists.”
“But it’s all bullshit!” Rain roared, pounding on the table some more. “Everyone knows that both sides are bribing the hell out of the minister and his fucking flunkies so they get listed higher than they deserve. Brickle the Beast keeps paying his way into the number nineteen slot on the villains, and I wouldn’t let that nose-picking shit-stealer lick my boots. He’s an idiot. He’s sank more ships than I’ve even owned.”
“And the heroes aren’t any better.” Malfas grumbled as he watched Maxie move the eggs around in the pan with a spatula.
Sadly, despite knowing that the food was probably poisoned, Fenric couldn’t deny a delicious aroma was starting to drift from the kitchen. Was that part of the poison at work? Did Maxie’s magic actually try to entice you into eating his food? That was fucking sinister.
“I’ve heard plenty of people state that at least seventeen of the twenty spots on the heroes’ list are bought and paid for with bribes,” Malfas continued.
“More like all twenty,” Rain grumbled.
“But why are the lists so important,” Maxie inquired. He crossed to one of the cabinets and pulled down a chipped wooden plate. “It doesn’t seem like something that people would care enough about to bribe their way onto it. Especially the villains. You’re all so badbums and amazing.”
Fenric winced. May the gods fucking forgive him, but someone needed to teach Maxie how to properly swear. “That’s badass, you mean,” he corrected. “Badass.”
Maxie smiled brilliantly at him. “Yes, badass.”
Rain snickered and Fenric kicked the pirate under the table, causing him to howl.
“The heroes care about the list because they receive a very healthy stipend from the government for appearing on the list. Higher on the list they are, the more they receive,” Malfas explained.
“But isn’t that to help save on military and public service fees. The main government and small local governments don’t need to keep large watches and guards because of the heroes,” Maxie replied. He picked up the spatula and started scooping fluffy scrambled eggs onto the plate.
“That would be true if the heroes weren’t as corrupt as hell and more dangerous than most villains,” Rain countered.
Maxie wilted. “Oh.” He placed the plate on the counter near the stove. Even from where Fenric sat at the table, he could see that those were the damn fluffiest scrambled eggs he’d seen in his life. He was tempted to give them a taste even though he knew they had to be deadly.
“Villains obviously don’t get a government paycheck for being evil. However, being on the list clears away headaches sometimes and opens up opportunities,” Fenric continued, trying to ignore the sudden rumbling of his stomach.
Maxie blinked wide eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
“Little peon, weak villains will steer clear of you if you’re on the list,” Rain said.
“And opportunities arise when you have a big scheme but can’t do it all yourself. This means you have to hire in more help—like an experienced pirate with a ship or a necromancer,” Malfas explained. He pinched a fluffy chunk of egg between two fingers and held it up to the sunlight pouring through one of the windows, inspecting it.
“Or a powerful warlock and a rogue thief good at sneaking,” Maxie continued.
“Exactly! If you’re on the list, you’ve proven yourself as a badass and can command a higher cut of the booty at the end of the job.”
And without a thought in his fucking head, Malfas popped that egg into his mouth and chewed happily, looking so proud of himself for giving Maxie such valuable and important information.
“Malfas!” Fenric shouted while Maxie stared in horror.
“What?” The warlock was still clueless.
Rain fell out of his chair laughing. The damn pirate rolled on the floor, knocking into chairs, cackling like a lunatic, while the poor warlock continued to look on utterly confused. But the realization hit him finally, and all the color drained from his face.
“What did I do?” he gasped.
“Is there a chance it wasn’t poisoned?” Maxie asked in a small voice.
“Nope. It was poisoned.” His voice was growing tighter as his hands lifted to clutch his stomach. He flashed Maxie a weak smile as he started to curl his body slowly toward the floor. “The eggs were, ungh, delicious though. Best I’ve ever eaten.”
Fenric scoffed. “Probably the last too.”
“I think I’ll go find Hapi,” Maxie offered, already starting to run for the stairs.
“And tell him to bring some skelebabies. I’m not dragging his corpse into the yard,” Fenric yelled after him.
Author Bio:
AJ Sherwood believes in happily ever afters, magic, dragons, good men, and dark chocolate. She often dreams at night of delectable men doing sexy things with each other. In between writing multiple books (often at the same time) she pets her cats, plays with her dogs, and attempts insane things like aerial yoga.
She currently resides in Michigan with aforementioned dogs and cats. Being in snow country gives her the excuse to stay inside and watch bl dramas, which suit her perfectly.
Jocelynn Drake loves a good story, whether she is reading it or writing one of her own. Over the years, her stories have allowed her to explore space, talk to dragons, dodge bullets with assassins, hang with vampires, and fall in love again and again.
This former Kentucky girl has moved up, down, and across the U.S. with her husband. Recently, they’ve settled near the Rockies.
When she is not hammering away at her keyboard or curled up with a book, she can be found walking her dog Ace, or playing video games. She loves Bruce Wayne, Ezio Auditore, travel, tattoos, explosions, and fast cars.
Last Night Kim Deister Publication date: September 7th 2026 Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller
What do you do when you keep losing time?
Terrifying visions torment Starra. Lost moments of time and flashes of images too horrific to accept fill her with icy fear so complete she can’t escape it. With too many unanswered questions, she needs answers. Now. It’s her only hope if she wants to save what’s left of her shattered mind and soul.
Unlike Starra, Mina cares nothing for her soul. Damned long ago, she’s too scarred for redemption. There are people meant to enjoy lives of love and family and friends. Mina isn’t one of these people. Her life is in the shadows, unafraid of the dark… until she realizes that something lurks in those shadows, something that wants to tear her apart.
Night fell quickly, swallowing the last light of day in the blink of an eye as the sky darkened from a surreal deep purple into a vast expanse of ebony. Not a single star pricked through the inky darkness. Even the moon shied away from shining too brightly through the clouds that faded into the night sky.
They call it the city that never sleeps for a reason. It was never truly dark in New York City, a million neon lights shining through even the blackest of nights.
But not tonight. Tonight the darkness engulfed everything it touched, dimming even the brightest of the neon, absorbing it into itself.
It was the kind of thick, cloying darkness that made people fear every shadow that moved as they hurried along the evening streets. It seemed alive, almost sentient, as it slipped around corners, like it was a predator chasing its prey, swallowing everything in its path into an endless void. People scurried along the sidewalks with their hearts racing, eyes furtively darting into the dark places. As the shadows shifted ominously, they quickened their paces until they were safely behind locked doors with the lights on and the curtains pulled tightly across the windows. They were right to hide, right to be afraid of whatever lurked on the other side of the too-thin glass. Dangerous things hid in the shadows of the night.
I knew that, probably more than anyone. The night scared the hell out of me. But it wasn’t the monsters that hid in the shadows that frightened me. They paled in comparison to the beast I feared lurked within me, the beast that came out at night. I lived in fear that I was the monster that hid in the shadows.
Yet even as much as the night terrified me, I welcomed it. The darkness wrapped me in its arms. The shadows that danced on the walls didn’t scare me; they kept me company when I felt alone. The noises that made others slam their windows shut and throw the locks home sounded like music to me, distracting me from the thoughts that ran through my head all day long, tormenting me. The night energized me, made me feel strong and powerful when most of the time I felt anything but.
Author Bio:
My name is Kim and my last name, Deister, is pronounced “Die-ster.” I always tell my husband I should have kept my married name, Ingram. So much easier to to pronounce!
I am a writer thoroughly in love with words. Reading them, writing them… I love that words can take you outside of your world and let the unimaginable become imaginable. I love them so much that I decided I needed to create some worlds and stories of my own!
Besides being a writer, I am an Army veteran (and Army wife) and a mom to four sons. I grew up in northern New York in a tiny college town called Potsdam. Over the years, our Army life has taken us all over the place and I have been lucky enough to work and live in some pretty amazing places. Right now we live in Hawaii on the island of O’ahu, minutes from the North Shore.
When I was fifteen years old, I made a mistake. I trusted the warm smile
of a stranger called Peter Harlow, and accepted a ride home in his car.
It would be the last moment of my life I’d ever feel safe again.
The trauma of what happened that night will never leave me—and it was
only the beginning. For the last nineteen years, I’ve been trapped in a
nightmare of blocked numbers, violated restraining orders, and the compulsion
to scan every face in every crowd, waiting for the day when his will be among
them.
But I’ve also spent the time preparing. My home has become a fortress, with
reinforced doors, perimeter cameras, and a safe room in the cellar. I’ve even
taught my seven-year-old daughter how to call for help. When I finally have to
face Peter Harlow again, I’ll be ready.
Or so I thought.
Because on the night of a furious snowstorm, a terrified stranger arrives at
my gate. Emily is barefoot, bruised, and desperate for help—claiming her
husband just tried to kill her.
To let her in from the storm would mean breaking every rule I’ve made to
protect myself and my daughter—but could I live with myself if I
didn’t?
But what follows is everything I’ve lived in fear of for all these years.
First, the lights go out. Then, the internet dies. Next, the phone line goes
dead—and finally, I find myself trapped inside my own safe room,
watching through a camera feed as the man who stole my life for two decades
walks the halls of my home, playing happy families with my little girl.
I built this fortress to keep him out. Now, it’s the only thing keeping
me from protecting my child.
The Safe Room is a heart-stopping psychological thriller by bestselling author
Sarah A. Denzil, the “mistress of twists.” Essential reading for fans of Alice
Feeney, Freida McFadden, and Caroline Kepnes.
About the Author
Sarah A. Denzil is a million copy bestselling author of psychological
suspense novels. Her books include number one bestseller Silent Child, which
was a Goodreads Choice semi-finalist in 2017. Her books have been published in
several different languages and have appeared on the Wall Street Journal
bestseller list.
Sarah lives in Yorkshire with her husband and cats, enjoying the scenic
countryside and rather unpredictable weather. She loves to write moody,
psychological fiction with plenty of twists and turns.
A one-night stand, agreed on by both parties, was supposed to be just that. One night.
The next day, when Magnolia Baker walked in to the first practice for her last season of professional soccer with the Cowgirls, she expected it to go pretty smoothly. She was a veteran player, nothing surprised her anymore.
At least, until her one night stand walks through the door.
Her new boss, Beaufort Vanderbilt.
The man that set her blood on fire, and made words stutter from her mouth.
For eight months, they fight the connection, acting like they don’t feel a thing for each other.
Then tragedy hits Beau’s life, and she forgets that she’s supposed to remain professional. She forgets that she’s supposed to be the player and him the owner.
Lines are crossed, and soon, they can’t hide a thing from the people around them.
But Beau’s only partial owner of the team she desperately needs to play to remain hidden from her previous life. The other half-owner is dead set on tearing them apart, and making an example out of her. An example that will be a bright, shining warning flag to all future players to never follow in her footsteps.
Not if they want to ever play professional soccer again.
Lani Lynn Vale is an American author of humorous romantic suspense novels. Born in the Great State of Texas, she has lived the majority of her adult life in East Texas where most of her novels are based. She’s married to her high school sweetheart whom her readers refer to as “LLV’s Bearded Half.” She published her first novel, Boomtown. in the summer of 2013 after the birth of her third child. She’s gone on to publish over 100 novels, with most of them going on to become USA Today Bestsellers.
Blood in the Azure S.M. Gray Publication date: March 1st 2027 Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
Keep the crown. It had been Len’s only goal for six years, before which it had been to take the damn thing. As Serica’s first ruling queen in centuries, she’s managed to stay on her throne through force of will and a growing trail of blood. For a time, her crown felt safe. Then Bardan Alimen, her lifelong betrothed, called to fulfill their marriage. With no coin to buy her freedom and an enemy force too strong to attack, Len feels her crown slipping from her grasp.
Then, an idea: she can escape wedding one king by marrying another.
Kaseus Collabel is a man so reviled his name is a curse. As king of hedonistic Hotesa, their marriage should be unthinkable. Their gods? Vicious enemies. Cultures? Incompatible. Their peoples? Hateful. The idea would have repulsed her had it not been for a consuming whisper of something more—and the wealth he can use to free her.
Handsome and effortlessly charismatic, Kaseus and his kingdom are everything Len needed and nothing she’s allowed to have. As Len is thrust to the center of an international scandal and her own people begin to turn on her, she will have to decide between her heart and her crown before she loses both.
S.M. Gray is a small-town Canadian author. By day she works as a psychotherapist, and she moonlights as a voracious key-clacker in her free hour before bed. She holds master’s degrees in Sociology and Psychology which inform her writing. Gray lives in small-town New Brunswick with her husband, two young children, and sugar-sweet cat.
Turtle Lake is a gripping tale of revenge, survival, and the intricate
interplay between human nature and the natural world. The story follows Jim
Peters, the comptroller at Ramsey Motors, who uncovers a corrupt scheme by the
company and its insurer, U.S. Underwriters, to defraud employees of their
retirement and insurance benefits before moving operations overseas.
Infuriated, he devises an elaborate extortion plan to expose their corruption
and protect the employees through a spectacular plot that ends up achieving
national headlines. To accomplish his plan, Peters uses simple, everyday
methods and lessons learned from alpha predators in the natural world.
About the Author
Bob Milne has been hailed throughout his 60-year career as one of the
best ragtime/boogie-woogie piano players of all time. A solo concert
performer, he traveled all over the world playing for dignitaries and
celebrities as well as small town audiences. He was given the title of
National Treasure by the Library of Congress and deemed an Ambassador of Music
by the U.S. Department of State.
Bob’s extraordinary musical abilities were the subject of numerous brain
studies, which have inspired a popular RadioLab podcast.
Little did they know that Bob was also a talented writer.
For years he wrote articles about his saloon-playing days for music
publications. Many of these stories were compiled into a book called The
Journeyman Piano Player: Adventures in Gracious Dining. Bob has written reams
of poetry, some of which became lyrics to songs that he composed. The longest
piece of poetry he ever wrote was the lyric book for The Legend of Sleepy
Hollow, a grand opera he composed and orchestrated.
Mr. Milne has been fascinated by nature his entire life. At a young age he
realized that instincts are present in all species of birds, mammals
(including humans), and literally every living thing in nature. He has used
this information countless times over his lifetime to predict what the human
species will do in future situations.
Bob is now retired from the long piano tours and is enjoying his woodland
home. Today he spends his time studying nature in the woods. Signed copies of
his book may be purchased through his website.
