Category Archives: Book Tour

BOOK TOUR: Red Snow in Winter by Max Eastern

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RED SNOW IN WINTER


by Max Eastern



Publication Date: December 9th, 2025

Publisher: Admiral Road Books
Pages: 387
Genre: Historical Thriller / Historical Espionage Fiction


In the final weeks of World War II, a young American intelligence officer is caught in a web of deceit that stretches from the Pentagon to the war-ravaged streets of Europe. Lieutenant Julius Orlinsky, a veteran of clandestine operations in Prague, is thrust back into the field when a seemingly routine assignment leads to murder and attempted murder.


Determined to uncover the truth, Orlinsky’s quest takes him from the quiet suburbs of Washington, D.C., to a prisoner-of-war camp in Maryland, and, finally, to the city of Budapest under siege. It’s a shadow world where allies can be enemies and the lines between patriotism and treason are blurred. And the personal stakes couldn’t be higher. Investigating who was responsible for a family’s tragedy in Prague could expose a betrayal by the first woman he has ever loved.


Orlinsky has no choice. Racing against the clock, he must confront the ghosts of his past as he navigates a terrain of double agents, war-hardened German and Russian soldiers, and fanatics who will stop at nothing to silence him.


This thrilling espionage novel, with its captivating plot of secrets, conspiracy, and trust betrayed, is perfect for fans of Philip Kerr, James R. Benn, Andrew Gross, and Susan Elia MacNeal.



Praise for Red Snow in Winter:


‘Red Snow in Winter is a gripping, ingenious cat-and-mouse political thriller. A young U.S. Army Intelligence officer finds himself caught up in a deadly espionage battle involving Americans, Nazis, and Russians that he can only survive by finding out who to trust–and also by finally uncovering the truth about long-buried secrets from his own shadowy intelligence past. Smart writing, a high stakes plot, and fascinating historical background. Author Max Eastern really delivers the goods in this must-read page-turner of a novel.‘

~ R.G. Belsky, author of the Clare Carlson mystery series


‘This is a fast-moving, page-turning espionage thriller set just after the war. Highly recommended for anyone who wants to be kept up at night!‘

~ Deborah Swift, author of The Shadow Network


‘A masterclass in espionage and moral ambiguity, it’s an atmospheric ride of a thriller with plot twists worthy of Hitchcock.‘

~ Mally Becker, author of The Turncoat’s Widow


‘I found a great new-to-me author in Max Eastern. I love how he brought his characters to life and made the situations in this novel seem as though they were happening in front of me.‘

~ Terrie Farley Moran, national bestselling co-author of the Jessica Fletcher ‘Murder She Wrote’ mystery series


Buy Link:


Universal Buy Link


This title will be available to read on #KindleUnlimited.


Max Eastern


The stories his father told him about his time as an intelligence officer in World War II inspired Max Eastern to write Red Snow in Winter. He has written about history for several magazines and online publications, with subjects ranging from Ulysses Grant and Benedict Arnold to Attila the Hun. 

His modern noir novel The Gods Who Walk Among Us won the Kindle Scout competition and was published by Kindle Press in 2017.

A lawyer specializing in publishing, he resides in New York State.

Author Links:




BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: Undisciplined Catalyst by Gail Koger

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I was sixteen when I found out not only am I an alien
hybrid, 

but monsters called the Tai-Kok were getting ready to invade our world. 

Guess who gets to stop them? Me.

Undisciplined
Catalyst

Coletti Warlord Series Book 19

by Gail Koger

Genre: SciFi Paranormal Romance

I was sixteen when I found out not only am I an alien
hybrid, but monsters called the Tai-Kok were getting ready to invade our world.
Guess who gets to stop them? Me. How?

My uncle, the mad scientist, created a machine called the portal that
instantaneously sends a test subject from one location to another by converting
them into energy. His idea is to port me onto a Tai-Kok ship. All I have to do
is leave a bomb, hit the retrieval button on my spiffy traveler’s belt and
poof! I’m back on Earth before the Tai-Kok ship goes kaboom. Sounds simple,
right?

Wrong. Uncle Ben doesn’t have a clue where I’ll actually appear on the ship. It
could be the engine room, the crew quarters, or even the bridge. It’s like
playing Russian roulette. The Tai-Kok don’t like surprises or uninvited guests.

To make things even more fun, I have an alien battle commander stuck in my head
and I’m related to a powerful Coletti warlord. Yippee. The chances of me living
to see eighteen aren’t good.

 

Amazon * Books2Read * Bookbub
* Goodreads

“Give ‘em hell.” A wild look in his eyes, Uncle Ben tapped
on the portal’s control console.
The circles of light surrounded me, but this time it felt like a zillion fire
ants were crawling over my body. Holy hell! Something had gone wrong! I
appeared in midair and dropped like a rock. Smack! I slammed into someone, and
my Glock went flying.
My eyes bugged. I was on the bridge of a futuristic warship, and the viewscreen
showed one hell of a space battle that was going on. To make things even more
fun, I was lying across the lap of a huge, muscle-bound male wearing black
battle armor. Since he was sitting in the captain’s chair, I was assuming he
was the boss.
A very angry-looking boss. I blinked. Holy cow was he good looking, if you were
into the whole merciless predator thing. Huh? The red chains woven into his
black warrior’s braids matched the communication device on his left wrist. Who
knew aliens accessorized and why did I care? I took a deep breath trying to
control the panic streaking through me.
A low growl rumbled in his chest
One look into his disturbingly hostile amber eyes and I knew I was in big
trouble. I reached for my retrieval button.
His arms clamped around me painfully and he spat a bunch of gobbledygook.
“Sorry, I don’t speak that language,” I replied mentally. Somehow, I knew he
was psychic.
A harsh voice sounded in my head, “How did you get through our shields.”
“Dunno. My uncle is the scientific genius, not me. I’m just the delivery girl.”
“What do you deliver?”
Did I look stupid? The minute I told him bombs; he’d kill me. I pasted a
friendly smile on my face. “Stuff. I’m Lexi and you are?”
“Battle Commander Kaelen. I serve Zarek the Coletti Overlord.”
I had no clue who Zarek was, nor did I want to meet him. “You must be so
proud.”
“Do you have a death wish, female?”
I grimaced. “Some people would think so.”

Howdy. My name is Gail Koger and once upon a time I was a
9-1-1 dispatcher. Too many years of wild requests, screwy questions, bizarre
behavior and outrageous demands have left me with a permanent twitch and an
uncontrollable craving for chocolate. I took up writing science fiction romance
to keep from killing people. So far, it has worked.

 

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bluesky * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content
and a $20 giveaway!

Enter the Undisciplined Catalyst Giveaway Here

BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: A Murder on Call by Jes Bogg

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jes Bogg will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

He only wanted to help. Now he’s being hunted.

When community carer, Baz Bexon, discovers a murder victim at a new client’s home, his life unravels. With unrestricted access to the property, he and his colleagues fall under suspicion.

Determined to clear his name, and wishing to safeguard the disabled occupant he’s employed to assist, Baz turns amateur sleuth on the seedier backstreets of Hull.

But his questioning arouses the interest of a killer. One fixated on revenge…

A Murder On Call is the gripping first novel in the Baz Bexon series. If you enjoy unlikely heroes, break-neck action, and gritty blends of mystery and thriller, dive into Jes Bogg’s debut.

Read an Excerpt

The house remained silent, apart from the background buzz of the central heating.

“I reckon she’s still in bed,” Baz said.

“Yup. Let’s go.” Shell took the lead. When she glanced through the open doorway beside the kitchen, she halted, staring into the darkened room.

“Hey, warn me when you’re gonna do that, would you?” Baz chided, stepping aside so as not to plough into her.

“Oh, crap!” Shell motioned through the door.

Baz followed her gaze. Someone lay on the threshold between the dining room and lounge.

“She’s fallen.” He swallowed.

They hastened to put on their disposable gloves, Shell pausing to turn on the dining room light.

A woman wearing a pink fluffy nightgown and matching slippers was curled on her side, her auburn hair pulled back in a tight bun and a pair of round-lensed spectacles askew on her large, aquiline nose.

Baz crouched beside her and took her hand with care. It chilled his palm.

“Jasmine, can you hear me?” His voice sounded foreign to his ears.

No response.

Pressing his fingertips into the woman’s neck, he felt for a pulse. Nothing.

He held his wrist to her mouth, hoping to feel the faintest tickle of a breath.

Again, nothing.

Pulling aside her robe, he checked for chest movements and froze.

A large kitchen knife protruded from her stomach, sticky blood coating the inside of her gown. He snatched his hand away and leaned back. “She’s dead.”

About the Author:

Jes was born, raised and continues to reside in England’s northern city, Kingston Upon Hull. She lives with her mother, eight-year-old daughter and their Abyssinian cat, Petrie.

Growing up, she was inspired by Point Horror stories, Sweet Valley High and anything by K A Applegate, and as an adult she was gripped by the writers Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child, Lee Child and Scott Mariani.

As an advocate of breastfeeding, Jes volunteers for a local trust, assisting mothers to feed their children, in addition to promoting the benefits of human milk to their relatives. She has also taken on a new role at a nearby gymnastics club, a sport she loves to watch if unable to participate in.

A fair warning—don’t get her talking about ancient Egypt or cats, you’ll never get away.

Throughout her adult life, Jes has always been the one persuaded to produce thank you cards, letters of complaint, résumés, advertisements, and much more for family and friends. The constant excuse being, “You know how to write.”

And so, A Murder on Call was born.

Substack: https://substack.com/@jesbogg

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61559894321509

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/author_jes_bogg/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Call-Baz-Bexon-Book-ebook/dp/B0FX5ZV2RT/ref=sr_1_1

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Murder-Call-Baz-Bexon/dp/1919314113/ref=sr_1_2

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-murder-on-call

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-murder-on-call-jes-bogg/1148566957?ean=9781919314105

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/a-murder-on-call/id6754258225

Giveaway:

https://kingsumo.com/g/1vjzzz1/a-murder-on-call

BOOK TOUR: NIGHTBORN by Theresa Cheung

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When a brilliant dream psychologist begins appearing in thousands of strangers’ nightmares, she must confront a terrifying truth…

 

Title: NIGHTBORN

Author: Theresa Cheung

Publisher: Collective Ink

Pages: 220

Genre: Paranormal Thriller

Format: Paperback, Kindle

What if the line between your waking life and your darkest dreams disappeared forever?

Alice Sinclair, a driven psychology professor, is about to find out. When thousands of people begin experiencing terrifying, vivid nightmares … all centered around her, Alice’s quiet academic life is shattered. Haunted by the question of why she’s become the subject of these shared dreams, Alice embarks on a desperate search for answers, uncovering a chilling secret: someone – or something – hungry for global power has discovered a way to manipulate consciousness itself. The world is fast becoming a playground for those in control of the dreaming mind.  In a heart-stopping race against time,
Alice must navigate a treacherous web of deception, where nothing – and
no one – can be trusted, not even herself.

Read a sample.

NightBorn is available at Amazon US and Amazon UK.

Book Excerpt

Florida, USA—Sometime soon

Alice saw the wave. It was a beast.

It rose slowly at first, the way a predator prepares to strike—silent, inevitable. It quickly gained speed, swelling into a towering monster, a force of nature, as if the ocean itself had decided to swallow her whole. The wave surged, easily 30 feet high, dark and roaring with a ferocity she could feel in her bones. It moved toward her with the relentlessness of fate.

She turned, panic seizing her as she raced up the beach, her bare feet slipping in the wet sand. The ocean was closing in—the world was closing in on her. Her breath came in jagged gasps, but the wave, too quick, slammed into her, yanking her under.

Her body twisted through the water, eyes stinging, lungs burning, desperate for air, clawing at the debris swirling around her—plastic, broken wood, seaweed, dead fish—but there was no solid ground to cling to. The current pulled her deeper, its

grip tightening like cold fingers around her throat.

She gasped for air, choking on the water, the world a dark, crushing void. She couldn’t see. Every nerve in her body screamed for release, but the ocean kept pulling, tumbling her in every direction, turning her body like a puppet with broken strings. She was drowning. No—she was going to die.

Something in her snapped.

Her feet hit something solid. Hard. Stone? She couldn’t tell.

All she knew was that she had to rise. She shoved upward, throwing her weight toward the surface with every ounce of strength she had left. Her body screamed, but she pushed

harder, until her head broke through to air. For one split second, she inhaled—but the water dragged her down again, relentless, hungry for her life. She fought the instinct to panic.

She couldn’t let it win. Not today.

Just breathe. Just breathe, Alice. Instinctively she let herself float, stilling her body, letting the sea carry her, accepting the weight of the water around her. She couldn’t fight it anymore—but maybe she didn’t have to.

Her feet found solid ground again. She shoved upward, defiant, gasping as she broke through. Sunlight blinded her.

Alice jerked awake, the sharp taste of salt lingering on her tongue, her body tangled in the sheets. The echo of the wave still thundered in her ears. The sunlight slanted through the bedroom window, blinding. Her pulse thrummed in her neck as if the sea still had its grip on her.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. It was a dream. Just a nightmare.”

What if it wasn’t just a nightmare?

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Alice’s feet hit the cold floor. Had Swiss psychiatrist and dream analysis pioneer, Carl Jung ever felt this unsettled after one of his dreams? Had his own night visions ever made him question his grasp on reality?

Her eyes flickered to the bedside table and her Red Book: the dream journal she’d named after Jung’s own. Ever since she was young, she’d written down her dreams. But this one felt radically different from the rest.

It was too real, though it clearly wasn’t literal. She lived more than an hour from the nearest beach and had never been to it. Was the dream a symbolic glimpse into her own future? A warning? Or something darker, deeper?

It was just a dream. Maybe it was just all the energy she’d poured into teaching Jungian dream analysis spilling out cathartically in a nightmare.

The feeling of drowning clung to her.

She grabbed her journal and scribbled out every detail of the dream. The ocean. The wave. The suffocating terror. Jung had called the act of recording dreams an act of self-analysis—so why did this one feel more like a clear and present danger than an analysis? Was it the forbidden mystery Jung had hinted at in his Red Book—that thin line between genius and insanity where revelation could be found?

Was her obsession with dreams driving her mad?

It was her calling, her passion. Perhaps, as director of the new program in Jungian Studies at the University of Central Florida, she could teach her students what she had dreamt and encourage them to analyze it; maybe it would be cathartic for

them and for her.

What if her students were the key to unlocking the deeper meanings of her own dream? She could see herself standing before the class, scrawling on the blackboard, her voice filled with energy as she taught them about using their dreams to peer into possible futures, even to shape reality. Inception—she would reference that for sure, the perfect movie fix to illustrate how the subconscious could manipulate perception and even reality.

What better way to introduce her students to the power of their own dreaming minds?

Alice pushed herself out of bed as the sinking feeling of the dream still clung tight. Blinking rapidly in front of her bedroom mirror, she forced herself to take deep breaths. Her long dark hair framing the mismatched eyes staring right back at her: one

blue, one brown. She had always hated this difference. Always hidden it behind a pair of blue lenses.

A perfect illusion of normalcy, her blue lenses. They always worked—ever since she was 14, when her mother had taken her to the ophthalmologist to prevent the cruel teasing at school.

Alice slipped them on, as though the simple act could shield her from her nightmare.

The rhythm of her repeated blinking to help the lenses settle helped bring a semblance of calm.

Something was coming, though; she could feel it. Something was drawing her, pulling her into the unknown. Could she rise above and survive it?

Alice dressed the part for her day ahead and stepped out into the bright light of the day.

Was the drowning nightmare a message? A warning? And if so, a warning about what?

– Excerpted from NightBorn by Theresa Cheung, Collective Ink, 2025. Reprinted with permission.

Guest Post
10 Things You Might Not Know About My Debut Novel NightBorn

By Theresa Cheung http://www.theresacheung.com @thetheresacheung

Writing NightBorn has been one of the most transformative and daring experiences of my career. Many readers know me for my dream dictionaries and spiritual nonfiction, but stepping into fiction opened up an entirely different world – one full of surprises, detours, and hidden meanings.

Here are 10 things you might not know about the book, the journey, and the secret layers woven into NightBorn:

1. The idea came from a single question my daughter inspired and a real life dream hacking campaign.

My daughter devours dark, gothic fantasies but refuses to read my nonfiction. One day I wondered: What if I taught dream decoding through a story she’d actually want to read? That question unlocked the entire novel. I’d also long been fascinated by a 2006 marketing hoax called thisman.org where a sketch of a man was posted online with the question have you dreamed of this man and thousands of people said they had.

2. Every major character is rooted in Jungian psychology.

Alice Sinclair and the other key characters are intentionally shaped around Jungian archetypes. Their choices and conflicts mirror the symbolic themes I’ve studied for decades even if readers don’t immediately notice.

3. The book doubles as a “hidden” dream manual.

Beneath the thriller plot, the conversations and dream scenes contain real dreamwork techniques. If readers follow the symbols closely, they’ll find authentic guidance on interpreting their own dreams.

4. The tagline“Some dreams must be set free. Nightmares, after all are dreams too”—came to me in a dream.

I woke one morning with those words in my mind, and they became the soul of the story. It captured both the emotional arc of Alice and the message I wanted to share about the subconscious.

5. The cover was designed by my son-in-law.

We had no budget for a designer, so he offered to try. What he created is striking, eerie, and unforgettable. Readers often tell me it triggers dream recall which delights me to no end.

6. My traditional publishers didn’t want me writing fiction.

After decades of nonfiction success, they were hesitant about me stepping outside the genre they associated me with. Their gentle “no” became the push I needed to take an indie route and trust my creative instincts.

7. The book took nearly five years to complete.

I wrote NightBorn in the spaces between my nonfiction deadlines. There were rewrites, pauses, self-doubt, and moments I wondered if it would ever be finished. But the story simply refused to be abandoned. It quite literally haunted me and often felt like it was a message from the future.

8. Alice Sinclair’s academic background mirrors a path I almost took.

I considered becoming a university academic before choosing writing full-time. Exploring that path through Alice let me revisit a version of myself who took a different route in life.

9. Early readers reported remembering their dreams more vividly.

This was the most magical surprise of all. Many readers and reviewers said the book triggered detailed dream recall for the first time in years. For someone who has devoted her life to dreamwork, that feedback was a dream come true, if you forgive the pun but dreams love to pun.

10. NightBorn is only the beginning.

This novel opened a creative door I never intend to close. I’m already exploring ideas that go even further into consciousness, symbolism, and the shadowy spaces between waking and dreaming.

Writing NightBorn was my leap of faith – a novel born out of passion, intuition, and a lifelong love of the dreaming mind. I hope you enjoy discovering its layers as much as I loved weaving them. Wishing you wild and wonderful dreams.

About the Author

Theresa Cheung
is an internationally bestselling author and public speaker. She has
been writing about spirituality, dreams and the paranormal for the past
25 years, and was listed by Watkins Mind Body and Spirit magazine
as one of the 100 most spiritually influential living people in 2023.
She has a degree in Theology and English from Kings College, Cambridge
University, frequently collaborating with leading scientists and
neuroscientists researching consciousness.

Theresa is regularly featured in
national newspapers and magazines, and she is a frequent radio, podcast
and television guest and ITV: This Morning’s regular dream decoding
expert. She hosts her own popular spiritual podcast called White Shores and weekly live UK Health Radio Show: The Healing Power of Your Dreams.

Her latest book is the paranormal thriller, NightBorn, available at Amazon US and Amazon UK.

You can visit her website at www.theresacheung.com or connect with her on X, Facebook, Instagram or Goodreads.

Sponsored By:

TOUR & GIVEAWAY: Fur, Fangs & Mistletoe by Jessica Coulter Smith

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When a struggling single mom and her adorable toddler get
snowed in with a grumpy wolf shifter, Christmas magic starts working overtime.

 

Fur, Fangs, &
Mistletoe

Christmas Cove Book 1

by Jessica Coulter Smith

Genre: Paranormal Holiday Romance

 

 

Escape to Christmas Cove, a cozy small town where magic,
shifters, and holiday romance collide.

After a painful breakup, Riley is ready for a fresh start in
Christmas Cove. All she wants is a peaceful life for herself and her
two-year-old daughter, Sabrina. Love isn’t on her holiday wish list. When she’s
stuck in a blizzard, help arrives in the form of Alex Conors — a protective,
brooding werewolf.

Snowed in with a grumpy shifter and a crackling fire, Riley
begins to see the gentle heart behind Alex’s fierce exterior… and Alex finds
himself falling for the brave single mom who awakens something he thought he
lost long ago.

Hot cocoa and toddler giggles turn strangers into something
more. But when Riley’s past resurfaces and threatens the safety she’s found,
Alex will have to prove that loyalty, love — and pack — are forever.

A warm, emotional holiday romance filled with shifter
charm, second chances, and the magic of Christmas. Ideal for fans of protective
alphas, found family, and heartfelt happily-ever-afters.

 

🏠 Small-town charm &
found family
🐺
Grumpy wolf + sunshine single mom
👩‍👧
Adorable toddler moments
🎁
Snowed-in & forced proximity
💕
Fated mates and holiday magic

 

Amazon * Apple
* B&N
* Kobo * Books2Read * Bookbub
* Goodreads

 

 
 

The sedan’s engine rattled — a sound Riley had learned to
distinguish from its other mechanical complaints over the past three states.
This particular rattle meant she’d make it another fifty miles, maybe more if
she kept her speed steady. Her knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel
somewhere around the state line, and she couldn’t remember now how to relax
them. The GPS showed their arrival in Christmas Cove, and Riley’s shoulders
tensed further, an automatic response to any declaration of reaching a
destination.

Dusk had settled over the town. Main Street stretched before
her, lined with Victorian storefronts that belonged in a Thomas Kincade
painting. White lights twisted around lampposts, and wreaths hung at precise
intervals, each decorated with the same combination of pine cones and red
ribbon. Fresh snow dusted the sidewalks in a way that seemed too perfect, too
deliberate. Riley checked her rearview mirror again — the same compulsive
glance she’d made every thirty seconds for the past six hours. Empty road. No
one following. No one cared where she went.

She drove slowly past the Sugar Moon Café, noting its warm
glow and the silhouettes of people inside. Past a bookstore with a display of
holiday romances in the window. Past a hardware store already closed for the
evening, its owner probably home with family, sitting down to dinner, living a
normal life. The thought made something twist in Riley’s chest, but she pushed it
down. Normal was a luxury she couldn’t afford to want.

The residential streets branched off from downtown. Riley
followed the GPS directions, checking the crumpled paper in her cup holder
against the street signs and the directions from the GPS. One too many times,
it had taken her the wrong way. Oak Street. Maple Avenue. Someone had named
these roads with an almost nauseating wholesomeness, as if determined to prove
the town’s charm. She turned onto Pine Ridge Road, where the houses grew
sparser and the forest pressed closer to the road.

A small sound from the backseat made Riley’s gaze dart to
the mirror. Sabrina stirred in her car seat, her head rolling to the side as
she woke from the nap that had mercifully consumed the last hour of driving.
Riley watched her daughter’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness and
the strange lights outside.

“Mama?” Sabrina’s voice carried that quality of toddler
confusion. Not quite upset, but teetering on the edge of it.

“We’re here, sweetie.” Riley forced warmth into her voice,
though her jaw ached from clenching. “Look at all the pretty lights.”

Sabrina pressed her mittened hands against the window,
leaving tiny smudges on the glass. “Lights!” She bounced in her seat as much as
the straps would allow. “Pretty, Mama! Pretty!”

“Very pretty.” Riley’s smile felt tight on her face. She
wanted to share her daughter’s uncomplicated joy, but she kept scanning the
streets, cataloging escape routes, noting which houses had lights on and which
sat dark. Old habits. Necessary habits.

The GPS announced their final turn, and Riley’s breath
caught. The cottage stood at the end of a short gravel drive, a small structure
someone’s grandfather had most likely built and barely maintained enough to
keep standing. A single porch light illuminated the front door, and beyond it,
the forest loomed.

Riley pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The
sudden silence felt heavy, broken only by Sabrina’s humming as she kicked her
feet against her car seat. Riley sat motionless, her hands still gripping the
wheel, and studied their new home.

The cottage was smaller than the photos had suggested.
Single-story, with a chimney that leaned slightly to the left. The windows were
dark, revealing nothing of the interior. Snow had drifted against the front
steps, undisturbed except for what looked like animal tracks, probably a deer
or raccoon. The porch railing needed paint, and one shutter hung at an angle.

But for now the house was theirs. For six months, at least, with
the first month paid in advance with money Riley had saved from extra shifts
and skipped meals. Six months to figure out what came next. After that, she’d
have to either renew the lease, or move on to another town.

“Out, Mama!” Sabrina had moved past patient and into
demanding. “Out now!”

“Just a minute, baby.”

Riley scanned the neighboring properties. The nearest house
sat quite a distance down the road, its windows dark. On the other side,
nothing but forest. The isolation should have comforted her. Fewer people meant
fewer questions, fewer chances of being found. But instead, it made her
hyperaware of how alone they were. No witnesses if something went wrong. No one
to hear them scream.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought. Nothing was
going to go wrong. This was a fresh start in a quiet town where nobody knew her
name or her history. Where Sabrina could grow up without her mother constantly
looking over her shoulder.

 

 

Jessica Coulter Smith is an acclaimed romance writer with a
passion for storytelling. Her works showcase the power of love and its ability
to transcend boundaries, capturing the hearts of audiences worldwide. With a
unique writing style and perspective, Jessica continues to inspire and
entertain readers from all walks of life.

Find her online…

 

Website * Blog * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon
* Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content
and a $20 giveaway!

 
Enter the Fur, Fangs, & Mistletoe Giveaway Here
 

BOOK TOUR: Annie’s Day by Apple Gidley

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Annie’s Day

 
by Apple Gidley
 
 
 
 
Publication Date: November 18th, 2025

Publisher: Vine Leaves Press
Pages: 300
Genre: Historical Fiction / Women’s Fiction

 

 

War took everything.

Love never had a chance.

Until now.

 

As an Australian Army nurse, Annie endures the brutalities of World War II in Singapore and New Guinea. Later, seeking a change, she accepts a job with a British diplomatic family in Berlin, only to find herself caught up in the upheaval of the Blockade. Through it all, and despite the support of friends, the death of a man she barely knew leaves a wound that refuses to heal, threatening her to a life without love.

 

Years later, Annie is still haunted by what she’d lost—and what might have been. Her days are quiet, but her memories are loud. When a dying man’s fear forces her to confront her own doubts, she forms an unexpected friendship that rekindles something she thought she’d lost: hope.

 

Annie’s Day is a powerful story of love, war, and the quiet courage to start again—even when it seems far too late.

 

 

Praise for Annie’s Day:
 
“Moving and enlightening…“

~ Deborah Swift, bestselling author
 
“This is a story of courage and love, and it lingers long after you turn the last page.“

~ Caroline James, author, 5* Goodreads review

 

“I love the lyrical writing of this author. The descriptive prose and humor made this book a joy to read.“

~ Louise, reviewer, 5* Goodreads review

 

 

Buy Links:

 

Universal Buy Link

 
 

Guest Post – How It Started

In the aftermath of a death, and in the busyness that surrounds the packing up of a loved one’s possessions, there is little time to do more than skim the official papers and photo albums of a life now over.

That’s how it was with my mother’s life in a box. I knew she had served with the Australian Army Nursing Service. I knew she had been in Singapore when it fell to the Japanese in 1942, then had been posted to New Guinea. I knew she had been in Berlin after the war. But that was all. Not much. No detail.

The Australian War Memorial Archives sent me Mum’s army records, and her timeline gave me the blueprint for Annie’s Day. The rest is pure fiction, interspersed with real characters. People like Matron Drummond of the AANS, or Bill Tunner, aka Tonnage Tunner, instrumental in coordinating the Berlin Airlift, to whom I have given words, hopefully in the manner in which they spoke.

My desk became surrounded by maps, piled high with troop movements, maritime registers, tropical nursing manuals, types of aircraft, newspaper cuttings, letters, books and photos. Maybe only a line or two of interest extracted from each, but information that nonetheless gives authenticity to the novel.

Then there are the people who are kind enough to spend time talking to me, giving insights on religion, on war, on history. Personal glimpses into different cultures and customs that hopefully takes the reader to each place, giving a human element to sometimes inhuman times.

It’s those seemingly small details that give the story heart.

The photo is one of Mum, taken in early 1944 in New Guinea. That fob watch pinned to her uniform—the smallest detail—became part of Annie’s Day!

 
Apple Gidley
 
 
Anglo-Australian, Apple Gidley’s nomadic life has helped imbue her writing with rich, diverse cultures and experiences. Annie’s Day is her seventh book.
 
Gidley currently lives in Cambridgeshire, England with her husband, and rescue cat, Bella, aka assistant editor.
 

Author Links:

Website • Facebook • Bluesky • Twitter / X • Instagram
 
 
 
 

BOOK TOUR: The Traitor’s Son by Wendy Johnson

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The Traitor’s Son

 
by Wendy Johnson
 
 
 
Publication Date: April 14th, 2024

Publisher: Made Global
Pages: 422
Genre: Medieval Historical Fiction

 

 

Caught between a king and a kingmaker, young Richard Plantagenet knows he’ll have to choose…

 

1461: Richard Duke of York, King by Right, has been branded a traitor and slain by his Lancastrian foes. For his eight-year-old son—Richard Plantagenet—England has become a dangerous place.

 

As the boy grapples with grief and uncertainty, his elder brother, Edward, defeats the enemy and claims the throne. Dazzled by his glorious sibling, young Richard soon discovers that imperfections lurk beneath his brother’s majestic façade. Enter Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick—cousin, tutor, luminary—whose life has given him everything but that which he truly craves: a son. A filial bond forms between man and boy as they fill the void in each other’s lives. Yet, when treachery tears their world asunder, Richard faces an agonizing dilemma: pledge allegiance to Edward—his blood brother and anointed king—or to Warwick, the father figure who has shaped his life and affections.

 

Painfully trapped between duty and devotion, Richard faces a grim reality: whatever he decides will mean a fight to the death.

 

In “The Traitor’s Son“, Wendy Johnson weaves a tapestry of loyalty, love, and sacrifice against the backdrop of England’s turbulent history. Through the eyes of a young Richard III, readers are transported into a world where every choice is fraught with peril, and the bonds of kinship are tested to their limits.

 

Perfect for fans of Hilary Mantel, Annie Garthwaite and Sharon K. Penman.

 

 

Praise for The Traitor’s Son:
 
“Exquisitely written. An evocative and thoughtful retelling of the early life of Richard III.“

~ Philippa Langley, MBE

 

“Wonderfully woven story of a young Richard III. Woven with a sure knowledge of the history and a realistic telling of a story about a young boy finding his way through tragedy and triumph, uncertainty and a legacy he cannot escape.

Brilliant debut which promises more and more.“

~ Cris, Amazon 5* Review

 

“Sometimes the perfect use of the written word takes my breath away. Not very often but this book is it. A wonderful story written so beautifully that I shall not forget it for a long time. Everything to my mind is perfect. The language, the story, the pacing. Just wonderful.”

~ Amazon Reviewer, 5* Review

 

 

Buy Link:

 

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This title is available to read with #KindleUnlimited.
 

Excerpt:

April 1471: Dawn on Easter Day, Barnet Heath. Eighteen-year-old Richard of Gloucester, brother of Edward IV, takes confession and prepares for his first taste of battle.

They wake, those who have dared sleep, to a grey and muffled world. Overnight, heavy mist has fallen, and the air of early dawn is like a breath of winter. Beneath his coif, Richard’s hair sticks to his skull like goose grease, his cheeks sore and clammy. Worse is the effect of the sodden grass; wet and slimy under his arming shoes, as he drags himself to his feet. Not only does York give battle in the holiest seasons, he reflects, but we’re cursed each time with the most malevolent of weather.

Chaplains pick their way through the waking men, balancing the Host on patens. After brief confession, each man receives the Eucharist, bowing his head in receipt of a blessing. To Richard alone, the king sends one of his royal chaplains, Richard Martin; chasuble creased and grubby from travel. Kneeling on the damp earth, Richard’s heart begins to pound.

Confiteor Deo omnipotenti…

This may be his last confession—but trifling sins, long confessed, are as nothing to the festering desire for vengeance that has lodged in him since childhood, and for which he can never truly feel contrite. It has always felt that to forgive would be to forget; to disregard the pain inflicted upon his family; to reduce the atrocities of Ludlow, the tragedy of Sandal, to things banal and mundane, as if they had travelled beyond those scarred landscapes to pleasanter realms without a backward glance. But none of them have, and none of them shall, until the enemy is crushed.

Martin elevates the Host, voice flat, hurried and detached.

The wafer cleaving to Richard’s palate gradually dissolves. Crossing himself, he wipes moisture from his cheeks and rises in a cacophony of clanking steel.

Martin signals a final blessing, then vanishes, piecemeal, into the growing mist. Richard feels alone, disjointed, severed from the world. In his sudden desolation, he’s beset by a need to draw his people close. These boys, these men, are his friends. And not merely his friends, they’re those with whom he may be sharing his ultimate morning on earth. He recalls the priest with a sudden yell.

‘Father, minister to my squires also. And shrive them.’

‘If it please Your Grace, the king bade me minister to you expressly—’

‘Minister to my squires and shrive them.’

Before Martin can object, he calls the squires forward, bids them kneel at his feet.

 
Wendy Johnson
 
 
Wendy Johnson has a lifelong passion for medieval history, its people, and for bringing their incredible stories to life. Her specific areas of interest are the fifteenth century, the Wars of the Roses, and Richard III in particular. She enjoys narratives which immerse the reader in the past, and tries faithfully to recreate the later Middle Ages within in her own writing. She has contributed to a number of historical anthologies and was a runner up in the Woman and Home Short Story Competition 2008.
 
Wendy is also a founder member of Philippa Langley’s Looking for Richard Project, which located the king’s lost grave in 2012. She co-authored Finding Richard III: the Official Account of Research by the Retrieval and Reburial Project in 2014, and in 2019 received the Richard III Society’s Robert Hamblin Award.  
 
THE TRAITOR’S SON, volume one in a Richard III trilogy, is Wendy’s debut novel and she is currently working on the sequel.
 

Author Links:

 
 

BOOK TOUR: Christmas in Newfoundland by Mike Martin

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Christmas traditions, old and new from Sgt. Windflower and his family and friends.

 

Title: CHRISTMAS IN NEWFOUNDLAND 3

Author: Mike Martin

Publisher: Ottawa Press and Publishing

Pages: 160

Genre: Mystery/HolidayFiction

Format: Paperback / Kindle / FREE on Kindle Unlimited

Sgt. Windflower loves Christmas and we’re happy to share what he and his family and friends do at Christmastime in Grand Bank or Marystown or Ramea, Newfoundland. Some of the stories feature Windflower and Sheila’s adorable daughters and of course Eddie Tizzard and his family make several spotlight appearances. Other stories take you back to Christmas seasons of many years long past and there’s even a return of a fabulous Newfoundland tradition, the Mummers.

Christmas is a time to celebrate but it is also a time to reminisce and remember. We hope that it will bring back pleasant memories for you and your family to share at Christmas andthroughout the year. Come celebrate Christmas in Newfoundland with Sgt. Windflower Mysteries.

Read sample here.

Christmas in Newfoundland is available at Amazon.

Book Excerpt


A Christmas Wish


Richard Tizzard gazed out at the ocean from his small home in Grand Bank, Newfoundland. The wind was high, and the waves were crashing against the shore, sending spray up into the air. Already, his house had a thick coating of the stuff on the side facing the water and he could hear it creaking and groaning against this relentless onslaught.

But inside, with the wood stove piled high, Richard and his old dog, Rusty, were perfectly comfortable and content. Both of them were coming to the end of their lives and Richard had accepted that almost completely. His children were trying to keep him hanging on as long as possible, but he was fine with what he knew was an inevitable outcome. 

He loved the quote by the great Bengali poet, Rabindranath Tagore that his friend, Doctor Vijay Sanjay had shared with him. He smiled to himself as he repeated it to Rusty. “’Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp as dawn has come’.” Rusty seemed to smile, too, at this saying. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to go, but Richard Tizzard was getting himself ready. In the meantime, he planned to enjoy his family to the upmost. His two daughters, Margaret and Brenda lived in Grand Bank with their almost grown-up families. His son, Eddie, lived in Marystown now with his wife Carrie and their two children. Little Hughie was almost two and the joy of Richard’s life while the baby, Sophie, was quickly overtaking her brother as his favourite. 

He smiled again when he thought about Eddie and his young family. It reminded him of when he had a young family of his own back in the tiny community of Ramea. Ramea is and was a small village off the southwest coast of Newfoundland that was only accessible by ferry. It did, however, have a rich fishing ground nearby and for many years provided a good livelihood for Richard and his four brothers, all of whom fished the abundant waters for many years.

But in the early 1990’s the inshore cod fishery collapsed and by 1992, when the cod moratorium was declared, all of them were out of work. The older brothers retired their boats and licenses and took the government support that was offered. Richard was too young for that, so he used the payout to move to Grand Bank. First, he worked in the fishing industry on a crew of a longliner operating out of Marystown. But when that work diminished, he went back to his true love, carpentry and woodworking.

He still did a little personal work on the side but his days of working for a living were over. He enjoyed all his family and the grandchildren tremendously, but the truth was that all he had left today were memories. Like many older people he spent a lot of time reminiscing and remembering these days. And as it was getting near Christmas, he thought a lot about Christmas from his past.

Growing up in his mom and dad’s saltbox house in Ramea. Christmas was a very quiet and peaceful affair. But he still remembered it fondly as one of the nicest times of the year. His father and older brothers were fishermen, so the winter was a slow season. They fixed their nets and did a few odd jobs around the house, but most of their time was spent cutting and splitting wood for the cast iron woodstove that heated their home and was action central for all cooking and baking.

About two weeks before Christmas his mother would start her Christmas baking. Shortbread cookies, mince pies and next year’s Christmas cakes. This year’s cakes were all ready to be unwrapped in a week or so and that would begin the ‘season of eating’ his dad called it. Richard loved the smell of the cookies and cakes as the days went by and to hear his mother singing, usually some old hymn or Christmas song like Angels We Have Heard on High or Away in a Manger. 

The men would continue their work as usual until a few days before Christmas Day. Then, his father would announce that it was time to get their tree and the whole family, except his mother, who was almost literally chained to the stove in the kitchen, would head out with their horse and sleigh to find a Christmas tree. They didn’t have to go far.

The houses in Ramea were built mostly around the harbour in sheltered nooks and crannies out of the constant wind. That meant almost all the land above them was still heavily forested with an abundance of Balsam firs that made the perfect Christmas trees. His father would lead the procession into the forest, but the tradition in the Tizzard family was that all the children would draw straws to see would pick their tree. The year Richard drew the shortest straw he was so excited he almost peed his pants.

As the others urged him on, making suggestions, Richard took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them and turned around, he saw it. A six-foot Balsam fir with many branches that spread out from top to bottom. “That’s it,” he cried, and everyone cheered. They cut it down and put it on the back of the sleigh to go home. When they arrived, their mom had made a pot of hot cocoa and while the tree was drying out in a corner they sat around and enjoyed their sweet, hot treat with some home-made cookies.

When Richard closed his eyes today, he could still smell that Christmas tree in their kitchen and taste that delicious hot cocoa. He remembered his mom sitting by herself next to the stove smiling. That was one of her last Christmas holidays with them, he recalled. She died like so many others at that time from complications in the birth of his youngest sister. Christmas was never quite the same in their household after that.

– Excerpted from Christmas in Newfoundland 3 by Mike Martin, Ottawa Press and Publishing, 2025. Reprinted with permission. 

About the Author

Mike Martin
was born in St. John’s, NL on the east coast of Canada and now lives
and works in Ottawa, Ontario. He is a long-time freelance writer and his
articles and essays have appeared in newspapers, magazines and online
across Canada as well as in the United States and New Zealand.

He is the award-winning author of the best-selling Sgt. Windflower Mystery series, set in beautiful Grand Bank. There are now 16 books in this light mystery series with the publication of Friends are Forever. 

A Tangled Web was shortlisted in 2017 for the best light mystery of the year, and Darkest Before the Dawn won the 2019 Bony Blithe Light Mystery Award. All That Glitters was shortlisted for the LOLA 2024 Must Read Book of the year award.

Some Sgt. Windflower Mysteries are now available as audiobooks and the latest Darkest Before the Dawn was released as an audiobook in 2024. All audiobooks are available from Audible in Canada and around the world.

Mike is Past Chair of the Board of
Crime Writers of Canada, a national organization promoting Canadian
crime and mystery writers and a member of the Newfoundland Writers’
Guild and Capital Crime Writers.

His latest book is Christmas in Newfoundland 3: Sgt. Windflower Holiday Tales.

Visit Mike’s website at www.sgtwindflowermysteries.com. Connect with him at X and Facebook.

Sponsored By:

BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: Captive Dragon by Elisa Rae

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Can a dying dragon trust a poisoner to save him?

Captive Dragon

Dragons of Reverie Book 1

by Elisa Rae

Genre: Romantasy, Noblebright Fantasy Romance

Storm, born of an esteemed lineage, avoids the violent
politics of his species until the power struggle comes to him. After being
attacked while traveling home, he overcame his assailant. Wounded and
vulnerable, Storm retreats into a cave to heal, only to be woken from a healing
sleep by a band of cutthroats intent on taking his hide.

Selah has been kidnapped. The thugs wanted an elven mindhealer, but she is only
an apprentice. Now her captors are insisting she slay a dragon for them by
addling its mind. To refuse means death for her, but to comply would be death
of a different kind.

Captive Dragon is a
noblebright fantasy romance novel about a relationship between a dragon shifter
and a warrior elf. It features an alpha/cinnamon roll of a reluctant hero and
his feisty heroine being forced into close proximity on a road trip to figure
out both their pasts and futures.

 

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

 

 

 

Chapter One

Storm

I was dying.

The ache in my bones made me restless, but I lacked the
strength to move. Pain, deep and throbbing, paralyzed my limbs. The tear in my
wing stung, sharp and unrelenting, but it didn’t rival the burning in my eye.

I shivered against the growing chill in my limbs. Dragon’s
bane was relentless. Only time remained before the poison quenched my internal
fire. And then my heart would stop beating.

In the meantime, I endured the delusions that dragon’s bane
forced on my mind, memories, nightmares. Recollections of long-dead and newly
dead friends. Scenarios, both fictional and real, played out in my mind’s eye,
twisting and turning so that every situation turned toxic. Hate, anger, and
bitter regret churned through my being. I groaned deep in my chest and longed
for the coming end. Anything to stop this torture.

As I drifted in and out of consciousness, fighting to
maintain vigilance until the end, the sound of a plaintive whine cut through my
tortured thoughts. I cracked my good eye open.

“Beggar.” My voice vibrated painfully in my throat.

The dark-brown dog with floppy ears sitting in my line of
sight brightened up. He hopped onto all four of his paws and shook himself. A
cloud of dirt and grit exploded from his coat.

I closed my eyes again, too tired to care.

The dog nudged my talons. I slit my eye open again. His
thick brown tail whipped back and forth as he watched me. He was a solid
creature, though surprisingly agile. He whimpered and did a strange backward
shuffle as though encouraging me to follow him.

“No.” My lungs ached, irritated by the poison that I had
accidentally breathed in the day before when I incinerated the foolish fae that
attacked me. Or had it been mere hours ago? I found I didn’t care. My head
throbbed.

With a bark, Beggar bounced on his two front paws and then
glanced over his shoulder before he whined and turned in a tight circle.

My eyelid dragged downward as my ability to fight the poison
ebbed. The acidic scent of dragon’s bane filled my senses in a rush, yet
another sign the poison was permeating deeper into my body. “Go,” I told the
dog.

At least he could escape.

“He can’t. They are guarding the door.” The sound of soft
footfalls announced the invader far too late. My hearing must’ve been affected
as well. I had missed her arrival. The voice sounded feminine.

I drew in a sharp breath and lifted my head. No metallic
scent meant she carried no metal weapon and wore no armor. Still, that didn’t
mean she was unarmed. I blinked through the film blurring my one good eye.
Despite my best efforts, it refused to focus.

She was a slender, pale-faced blur carrying a lantern of
some kind in the darkness of my makeshift refuge. “Have you come to kill me?”

“No.” She bent down and scratched the dog behind the ears.
He leaned eagerly against her legs and then pranced around, desperate for more
affection, foolish creature.

The female ignored the begging dog and approached. “I wish
to heal you.”

I huffed in disbelief, producing a pathetic cloud of smoke.
My fire was cooling faster than I expected.

“What happened to your eye?” she asked, tilting her head to
the side.

“Another dragon’s claw.”

“And your wing?”

I tucked both of my wings closer to my torso. My pain
intensified, but I ignored it. “Are you taking inventory for the butchers out
there? Making sure I have all the essential parts so they can sell them off
when I am dead?”

She grimaced before resuming her perusal. “If it is a rip, I
don’t think I can heal it, but—” She peered up at my head as she walked around
to my right side, out of my good eye’s range. “I think I can do something for
your injured eyes, though.”

“They are more valuable as a matched set?”

She glared at me. I felt it more than saw it—a disconcerting
sensation. My eyelids dragged down again. I gave in to the poison’s pull and
dropped my head, resting my chin on the ground.

She moved around my snout with agitation in her tread. Had I
been stronger, I would’ve reared back away from her. As it was, I didn’t even
try. Instead, I forced my eye open. She pressed her palm to my snout.

“What are you doing?” I rasped out.

Healing you.

A reader of fairytales and
folklore, Elisa Rae loves a happy ending. Noblebright characters, dastardly
villains, and chemistry between characters delight her. When she isn’t writing,
she loves to watch superhero movies and literary dramas.

Elisa Rae
is the pen name of Rachel Rossano.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $20 giveaway!

Enter the Captive Dragon Giveaway

BOOK TOUR: What Remains is Hope by Bonnie Suchman

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What Remains is Hope

 
The Heppenheimer Family Holocaust Saga, Book #2
 
by Bonnie Suchman
 
 
Publication Date:  October 2nd, 2025
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Pages: 360
Genre: Historical Fiction

 

Beginning in 1930s Germany and based on their real lives, four cousins as close as siblings—Bettina, Trudi, Gustav, and Gertrud—share the experiences of the young, including first loves, marriages, and children.

 

Bettina, the oldest, struggles to help her parents with their failing business. Trudi dresses in the latest fashions and tries to make everything look beautiful. Gustav is an artist at heart and hopes to one day open a tailoring shop. Gertrud, the youngest, is forced by her parents to keep secrets, but that doesn’t stop her from chasing boys. However, over their seemingly ordinary lives hangs one critical truth—they’re Jewish—putting them increasingly at risk.

 

When World War II breaks out, the four are still in Germany or German-occupied lands, unable or unwilling to leave. How will these cousins avoid the horrors of the Nazi regime, a regime that wants them dead? Will they be able to avoid the deportations and concentration camps that have claimed their fellow Jews? Danger is their constant companion, and it will take hope and more to survive.

 

 
Praise for What Remains is Hope:
 
“Readers will find this follow up to Suchman’s prior novel, Stumbling Stones, both a heartbreaking reminder of the Holocaust’s atrocities and a compelling tribute to a family’s refusal to surrender to despair…Richly compelling Holocaust account, centered on the power of hope.“
~ Booklife by Publishers Weekly
 
“Author Bonnie Suchman has a way of making every moment count with her characters in a narrative that feels powerfully real as she spins deeply personal stories against a sweeping and tragic backdrop of history. ..What Remains is Hope is historical fiction at its best, and I’d highly recommend it to fans of gripping fiction that’s emotionally resonant and grounded in truth.“
~ K.C. Finn for Readers’ Favorite

 

 

Buy Link:

 

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This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.

The Meaning of the Title “What Remains is Hope”

The novel tells the story of four Jewish cousins and their attempts to stay alive in Germany and German-occupied territories during World War II.

The idea of hope is mentioned several times in early portions of the book. Then, in 1937, as two cousins are helping a third cousin in her move from Frankfurt to Munich, the three begin to discuss this move to a city known for its history of anti-Semitism. One of the cousins, Gustav, draws a picture of a butterfly and tells the story of Pandora’s box, about how Pandora had received the box and was told never to open it. But curious, she opened it and all of the world’s ills flew out of the box and attacked Pandora, causing her to take on the world’s ills. She quickly closed the lid, but she soon heard a banging in the box. When she opened the lid, a butterfly flew out of the box, touched her arm, and she was healed of the world’s ills. Gustav told his cousin who would be leaving for Munich that what remained in the box was hope and that she should take that hope in the form of the butterfly with her. That cousin took the drawing with her to Munich.

Throughout the book, the characters continue to discuss hope and the importance of hope. The reader knows from the beginning of the story that one of the four cousins did not survive the war. During the war, many Jews committed suicide, losing hope and falling into despair. More than six million Jews were murdered by the Nazis; no amount of hope could save them. But those Jews who survived, like the three cousins in What Remains is Hope, could not have survived without hope.




Bonnie Suchman

 
Bonnie Suchman has been a practicing attorney for forty years. Using her legal skills, she researched her husband’s 250-year family history in Germany, publishing the award-winning, non-fiction book, Broken Promises: The Story of a Jewish Family in Germany, as a result.
 
Those compelling stories became Suchman’s Heppenheimer Family Holocaust Saga. The first in the series, Stumbling Stones, was a Finalist for the 2024 Hawthorne Prize for Fiction, and recently, her family traveled to Frankfurt, Germany, to install stumbling stones for her husband’s Great Aunt Alice and her husband Alfred, the real-life characters in the book. What Remains is Hope is the second novel in the saga.
 
In her free time, Bonnie is a runner and a golfer. She and her husband reside in Potomac, Maryland. 
 

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