TEASER: Too Much the Lion by Preston Lewis

 

US Historical Fiction/Civil War

Date Published: 05-13-2025

Publisher: Bariso Press


 

The soldiers did the fighting; the generals, the Infighting

In the waning months of the American Civil War, a delusional Confederate
commander makes a desperate attempt to change the course of the
South’s dwindling hopes by invading middle Tennessee. The tragic
result of Lt. Gen. John Bell Hood’s misplaced hubris devastates his
Army of Tennessee and alters the lives of the citizens of Franklin,
Tennessee.

In a historical novel reminiscent of The Killer Angels, Too Much the Lion
follows a handful of Confederate generals, infantrymen and local residents
through the five days leading up to the horrific Battle of Franklin on
November 30, 1864. The lives of soldiers ranging from Major General Patrick
Cleburne to Brigadier General Hiram Granbury and from Sergeant Major Sumner
Cunningham to Corporal Sam Watkins will be forever changed by Hood’s
decisions and mistakes.

Franklin civilians like apprehensive and loving mother Mary Alice McPhail
and teen Hardin Figuers, desperate to serve the Confederacy but too young to
enlist, are ensnared in the events that will bring death and devastation to
their very doorsteps. Devout Confederate Chaplain Charles T. Quintard must
reconcile his religious beliefs with his support of slavery. Slaves like the
elder Wiley Howard and the inquisitive young Henry B. Free are trapped on
the fault line between what has been and what could be.

Too Much the Lion offers an unvarnished account of the dying days of the
Confederacy in a powerful and moving narrative of honor and betrayal,
bravery and cowardice, death and survival. Told with poignancy and honesty
by an accomplished novelist, Too Much the Lion achieves for the Battle of
Franklin what The Killer Angels did for the Battle of Gettysburg, providing
a classic fictional account of one of the Civil War’s pivotal
encounters.

 


Foreword

Too Much the Lion is the story of the Battle of Franklin and the five days
leading up to the disastrous conflict as lived by select generals,
infantrymen, and civilians in the waning weeks of the Confederacy. In a war
filled with tragic encounters, this was one of the most heartrending, yet
least remembered battles of the Civil War, largely because it occurred in
the Western Theater, far removed from the aura of Robert E. Lee and the Army
of Northern Virginia.

The Confederate Army of Tennessee produced no Robert E. Lee, but instead fought under a succession of mediocre commanders whose
battlefield triumphs were limited to a single decisive but bloody victory at
Chickamauga. The army’s commanders had little else to show for the
sacrifice of Rebel men and boys. Though the overall leadership lacked the
tactical flair of a Lee or a Stonewall Jackson, the Army of Tennessee
possessed some superb generals such as cavalryman Nathan Bedford Forrest and
division commander Patrick Ronayne Cleburne, who both appear in this
account, though the focus is on the lesser-known Cleburne and his
division.

With more than 8,500 combined casualties, the Battle of Franklin does not make the top twenty list of Civil War battles with the most
losses. Even so, Union and Confederate forces endured five of the most
ferocious hours of combat during the War Between the States. Besides the
hubris of Army of Tennessee commander John Bell Hood, the events of the
preceding night at Spring Hill contributed to the next day’s ill-fated
attack—dubbed “the Pickett’s Charge of the
West”—at Franklin.

In one of the greatest blunders of the Civil War, the Union army slipped past the Army of Tennessee during the night at Spring Hill,
Tennessee, and escaped the trap Lieutenant General Hood had set but failed
to execute. Charges and countercharges about who was at fault echoed through
the years, and historians remain conflicted about who forfeited one of the
South’s last opportunities for a victory over Union forces. The
interpretations of the events at Spring Hill in
Too Much the Lion are
entirely those of the author after considerable research and
head-scratching.

In addition to the many generals mentioned in this historical novel, two Confederate infantrymen who left accounts for posterity provide
perspective from the viewpoint of the foot soldier. While novels about war
rightfully focus on soldiers, battle takes its toll on civilians as well, so
two Franklin families—the Carters and the Figuers—provide
perceptions beyond those of the troops. Two slaves serving Confederate
officers as manservants—one elderly and one in his teens—also
enter the narrative.

Except for two characters, all the names listed are those taken from historical accounts. The name of a Franklin doctor was fictionalized,
and the last name of the slave named “Henry” was added since the
historical account only listed his first name. Otherwise, the names are
actual, including the lists of casualties and the causes of their deaths.
The interpretation of each character is that of the author, based on his
research.

Too Much the Lion is told entirely from the Confederate viewpoint, both soldier and civilian. It is important to remember that by
late 1864, both Southern combatants and noncombatants had endured three
years of death and deprivation. Both citizens and warriors alike were tired
of war, its hardships, and the uncertainty it created for their
futures.

For those unfamiliar with the organization of a Confederate army, the Army of Tennessee operated under Lieutenant General John Bell Hood in
overall command of three infantry corps and a cavalry corps under the
direction of Major General Nathan Bedford Forrest. This account focuses on
the corps under the command of Major General Benjamin Franklin Cheatham of
Tennessee. His three division commanders included Major General Patrick
Ronayne Cleburne of Arkansas and Major General John C. Brown of Tennessee,
who are pivotal in this account. Major General William B. Bate of Tennessee
also served as a division commander under Cheatham, but he played a lesser
role in the events as depicted in Too Much the Lion.

Three brigades under the commands of brigadier generals Hiram B. Granbury of Texas, Daniel C. Govan of Arkansas, and Mark P. Lowery of
Mississippi reported to Cleburne, their division commander. Between seven
and ten regiments designated by number and state served under these three
brigadier generals.

Two of the four brigades in Brown’s division appear in this account. Commanders of those brigades were brigadier generals States Rights
Gist of South Carolina and Otho F. Strahl of Ohio. While other generals and
combatants show up in this account, their roles are nominal in this telling
of the story of the Battle of Franklin.

In compiling this narrative, the author has attempted to stay within the historical framework of the events leading up to and culminating in the
Battle of Franklin and its aftermath. Occasionally, time elements may have
been compressed or slightly altered for the sake of the overlapping
narratives from the different viewpoints.

If nothing else, perhaps Too Much the Lion will drive readers to the historical accounts of the Battle of Franklin to make their own
assessments and draw their own conclusions of the tragic encounter in the
waning months of the Civil War. If Too Much the Lion accomplishes anything,
perhaps it will give Patrick Ronayne Cleburne his due as one of the noble
generals of the Civil War, much like The Killer Angels elevated Joshua
Lawrence Chamberlain into the public consciousness.

Too Much the Lion is a novel of war, and war is the failure of man to live up to the “better angels of our nature” as President
Abraham Lincoln first used the term in his 1861 inaugural address before the
start of the conflict that killed more Americans than any other in our
nation’s history.

By its very nature, however, any novel of war is also an anti-war novel, for it shows the dire consequences on individuals of political and
military deceit and hubris. Perhaps Too Much the Lion offers lessons for
today if we are honest and humble enough to accept them.

About the Author

Preston Lewis is the award-winning author of more than 50 western,
historical, juvenile, and nonfiction works.  In 2021 he was inducted
into the Texas Institute of Letters for his literary achievements.

Western Writers of America (WWA) has honored Lewis with two Spur Awards,
one for best article and the second for best western novel.  He has
received ten Will Rogers Medallion Awards (six gold, two silver and two
bronze) for written western humor, short stories, short nonfiction, and
traditional Western novel.

Lewis is a past president of WWA and the West Texas Historical Association,
which named him a fellow in 2016.  He holds a bachelor’s degree
from Baylor University and a master’s degree from Ohio State
University, both in journalism.  Additionally, he has a second
master’s degree in history from Angelo State University.  He
lives in San Angelo, Texas, with wife Harriet Kocher Lewis.

 

Contact Links

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RELEASE BLITZ: A Voice in the Mind by Bruce M. Perrin

 

The Mind Sleuth Series

Psychological Thriller

Date Published: April 29, 2025

 

 

Randy Hutton had fallen on hard times. He had lost his management job in
customer service, “a victim of technology” as his manager had
put it during his exit interview. Randy, however, described it as being
ousted by little more than a glorified answering machine.

His wife, Isabella Perez-Hutton, on the other hand, was the up-and-coming
star at Breakthrough Systems, leading a project that would help artificially
intelligent computer systems work with their human counterparts. All the
smart machines needed, she reasoned, was a better understanding of the
strengths—creativity, intuition—and limitations of their human
coworkers.

The irony of the couple’s situation—she building better,
faster, smarter technology—and him displaced by a simple form of it
wasn’t lost on either of them. That irony, however, wasn’t the
reason for the violence that surrounded Isabella at work—a suicide, a
demolished lab, a murdered programmer. Rather, the justification for those
acts came from a voice deep within Randy’s head, a voice that
tormented him endlessly, making sleep impossible and retaliation against
those who would destroy him his only sanctuary.

And although Isabella’s new friend, Nicole Veles, came to suspect
Randy, would it make any difference? Because by the time she came to this
position, husband and wife were deep in the Colorado wilderness and Randy
had killing on his mind.

 

A Voice in the Mind is part of The Mind Sleuth Series

Find out more about all of the books in the series at

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0753HDYWF

About the Author

If you’re interested in what I’m like in something more
detailed than what will fit in this space, I’d say, buy any of my
books. That overly analytic guy (read geek) is me. OK, I’ve never
saved the day like the heroes in my books, but we think alike. I’m
interested in technology and psychology (my formal background) and enjoy
writing about where they meet, now and in the future. In addition to
pounding the keyboard, I like to tinker with home automation and I’m
an avid hiker. When I’m not on the trails, you’ll find me at
home with my wife and our dog in Aurora, CO.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

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Bluesky

Amazon

BookBub

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BookBuzz

 

Purchase Links

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PREORDER BLITZ: Sanguine Shadows by Will Okati

 

LGBTQ+ Vampire Romance

Date Published: April 11, 2025

 

 

This is where everything changes.

 

Darce has done his best to live off the radar as one of the bloodkind,
keeping himself separate from the company of other vampires and the danger
they court. The cowboy might be lonely in his solitude, but he’s safe.

Raven’s come to change that. He’s come to change everything.

A newly made bloodkind, Raven’s out to shake up the old world order that
oppresses their kind. He carries Darce along in his wake like a leaf on the
tide, pushes and goads and tops from the bottom, inciting Darce to lust,
passion and action. He makes a centuries-old cowboy feel alive again,
something well worth taking risks for.

But when Raven challenges the Sanguine, the most dangerous of all vampires,
has he gone too far?

 

 

EXCERPT

 

All he’d wanted was a quiet drink.

Darce swirled the drop or three of tequila left in his shot glass and
raised it to the guy who tended bar in this backwoods dive. If he had a
name, or if the bar did, Darce didn’t know it and he liked it that way. Tall
and skinny as a pool cue, his head shaved just as bald, he didn’t talk much
and took Darce’s glass with a grunt. Didn’t ask what Darce wanted. You had
your choice here of PBR, Bud, Jose and JD. Like ’em or find somewhere else
to drink.

Tequila suited Darce fine. Didn’t do anything for him, no, his being a dead
man walking and all — vampire, as some might say — but he’d developed a
taste for agave over the years. He held up one finger. Already had two, and
three was one more than his usual.

The bartender shrugged, not giving too much of a damn. Maybe the folks
around here knew what he was. Maybe they didn’t. Knew enough to keep their
mouths shut, anyway.

One more drink in peace and it’d be time to walk. He had a peaceful stretch
of road home, nothing but the cicadas and bullfrogs and the yellow half-moon
to guide him on his way. Nothing to hinder him.

Until the stranger slid onto the bar stool next to Darce and jostled him
like they were old friends, bumping his shoulder. “I’ve got this
one,” he said. Sounded young. “One for me, too.”

The bartender eyed Darce’s new companion.

“I’ll pay my own way,” Darce said; that, and nothing more.

“Ouch. Not too friendly there, cowboy,” the new arrival said. He
swung around to give Darce a bold once-over.

Out of his peripheral vision, Darce got a good enough look at the new kid.
Pretty. Fresh-faced and young, his jaw cut firm and his grin made for
promising wicked deeds in the dark. He had a dusting of freckles on his nose
and cheeks that nearly tempted Darce into a snort of humor because he’d seen
a lot in his time but a vampire with a scattering of pale sepia freckles was
a new one on even him.

“I’m Raven,” the vamp said, offering his hand along with his
unlikely name. Darce snorted quietly. Raven, Silvershadow, Witchlight, Darce
had heard ’em all and believed none. This one would be newly made, then, not
knowing of the rules by which their kind lived. Which were no rules at all,
for the most part, except to watch your back in case someone was sneaking up
to shove a silver knife in it, and most of all to keep to yourself.

“That a fact,” Darce said, not asking it. He caught the shot
glass as the bartender slid it his way, amber drops spilling over the backs
of his fingers.

Raven waited, then laughed under his breath. “And you’re not going to
tell me your name. That’s okay. I already know who you are.”

Darce stilled. That was more than he cared to have bandied about.
“You’d be wise to keep that to yourself. That and your own name. Names
get you in trouble.”

“Do they really,” Raven murmured. He swallowed his drink like a
man with nary a grimace nor a cough. Not new to that game, at least.

Darce shot him a sideways glare. He shook his hair back and slammed the
tequila neat, no salt or lime around here. Damn hair; it’d been long, near
to chin length when he’d come across, and no matter how he cut it back it’d
grow out by the next new moon.

Freckles there had short hair, crisp-cut dark, some kind of gel keeping it
stuck up in spikes that looked sharp enough to prick a finger on. So young
he was damn near veal, and fresh meat for any who cared to take a bite. No
wonder he’d been turned. Someone had wanted to keep him that young and
pretty for good, was Darce’s bet.

And he’d gotten away. Darce wondered how, for a second, then discarded the
question. Not his business. He backslapped his empty shot glass across the
bar and licked his lips to get the last of the burning-hot taste off
them.

“Now there’s a pretty sight,” Raven said, his gaze hot where it
glanced over Darce’s face.

A vampire sometimes liked to pretend to breathe, to mix in all the better,
and for the most part Darce did it well. He drew air in through his nose and
let it out slow and smooth. “You want to watch that kind of talk around
here,” he said. “Matter of fact, you want to keep your mouth
tighter shut overall if you don’t want trouble.”

Raven laughed loud enough to draw a few wary looks. No one who drank in
that backwater Texas dive wanted to draw attention, except this young’un.
“You honestly think you’re fooling anyone?” He lazily drew his
finger around the rim of his shot glass. “Look around you, old man.
Pretty crowded in here tonight for a place like this. I count fifteen heads,
yours and mine and Baldy’s not included, and it’s not a big bar. Yet there’s
an empty space three men deep all around you. No one wants to get too close.
They all know, even if they don’t say. Maybe they don’t want to admit it’s
true, but somewhere inside them they all know what you are — what I am —
and that’s why they leave you be.”

Darce ground his back teeth together. His fangs, folded up against the top
of his mouth usually, rattlesnake-style, slid down and pricked his tongue as
he clamped his jaw shut.

“Must be lonely.” Raven pushed his luck, shifting closer.
“How long’s it been since you traded more than a handful of words with
anyone else? How long have you been around, old man?”

Something cool and firm brushed the top of Darce’s thigh, tantalizingly
close to his groin. He inhaled sharp and quick, and cursed it as a giveaway
that Raven pounced on as sly and quick as a fox.

“If you want,” Raven said, thumbing half an inch away from
Darce’s stiffening cock — it had been a long, long time, whether he’d admit
it out loud or not, “I’ll leave you be. All you have to do is say ‘go,’
and I’ll be out the door.”

“Like hell you would.”

“I think we’re gonna get along, you and me.” Raven stroked higher
up and closer. “You know me already.”

“I know you’re trouble walking on two legs,” Darce said. He
fought with the urge to rise into the teasing pressure. Damn, it’d been half
of forever since someone, anyone, laid a hand on him not in anger or with an
addict’s mindless craving. “I know I want you on your way as fast as
you think you can run.”

“No, you don’t.” Raven’s palm molded over Darce’s cock, his touch
firm and strong as any vampire’s, and for half a moment Darce burned with
curiosity over what this kid’s story was, anyway. What’d shaped him this
way? He forgot that in the next second when Raven moved fast in the way of
their kind, faster than most, his lips brushing Darce’s ear, and said,
“I could leave, or I could take you around back and suck your
dick.” He pierced Darce’s earlobe with one of his fangs, slim and
needle-sharp. “Your choice.”

 

About the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting
Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and
ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as
ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of
the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always
a work in progress.

 

Will on Facebook

Will’s website

Will on Etsy

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

TEASER: Reclaiming Venom by Harley Wylde

 

(Dixie Reapers MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, 2nd Chance Romance

Date Published: April 11, 2025

 

 

What happens when a life shrouded in memories fades away, leaving only a
faint echo of love?

 

Ridley — Life can change in an instant. For me, it was the day I got that
devastating call — my world crumbled when I found out my husband, Venom,
had been shot. He woke up, but the man I loved was a stranger. Then someone
gave me a great idea. Make him fall for me all over again! Venom might not
remember our past, but deep down, I know our connection is still
there.

Venom — I woke up in a hospital, no idea how I got there or what the hell
happened. The angel by my bed seems familiar and yet not. Then she tells me
she’s my wife. What the hell?

But as I spend time with Ridley, every story she shares awakens something
deep within me. Her laughter, her warmth… the taste of her
lips… every moment I spend with her ignites a spark that feels so
right. I may not remember our years together, but I know one thing for sure:
she’s mine.

Fall in love with the thrill of the ride, the heartache of forgotten
memories, and the fierce determination of a love that refuses to die.

WARNING: Reclaiming Venom is intended for readers 18+ due to adult
situations, bad language, and violence. While Reclaiming Venom can be read
as a standalone, we recommended you read Venom (A Dixie Reapers MC 1) and
Emergency Date (Swift Angels MC 2) first to better appreciate Reclaiming
Venom.

 

 

EXCERPT

Venom

I moved quickly, coming up behind Tinker. I couldn’t believe this
asshole was still alive. Pressing the barrel of my gun to his head, I made
sure I had his fucking attention. “Drop it. Now!”

Tinker froze, a string of curses spilling from his lips. Slowly, he turned
to face me, realization dawning in his eyes.

“You sneaky bastards,” he snarled.

Torch and Bull emerged from the shadows, their own weapons trained on
Tinker. The old man’s face contorted with rage. “This is all
your fault,” he spat at us. “You and your damned
club!”

Torch stepped forward. “Until you decided to stir up shit, we all
thought you were dead. Why now, Tinker? Why didn’t you just stay
gone?”

Tinker’s laugh was bitter. “You want to know why?”

His gaze darted to Justin, the President of the Swift Angels MC. “I
only found out about him a year ago. My own flesh and blood, a cop. I
watched. I waited. Hoped maybe he’d at least be dirty, something I
could work with.”

I got it. Sort of. I hadn’t been too pleased to find out my son,
Dawson, was not only a fireman, but also the VP of another club. I’d
hoped he’d follow in my footsteps. But now, I had to admit I was proud
of the man he’d become.

“Then I realized,” Tinker continued, a cruel smile twisting his
features, “that the Swift Angels had ties to you Dixie Reaper scum.
That’s when I knew it was time to make my move. All these decades,
waiting for a chance to get revenge, and it fell right into my
lap.”

“It’s over, Tinker. You’ve lost. Do you really think
you’ll get out of this alive? We may not have made sure you were dead
last time, but things are different now,” I said.

Tinker’s grin widened. “You sure about that,
Venom?”

Without warning, chaos erupted. Two men materialized from the shadows
behind Justin. Shit! Wire had said Tinker would be alone. Where the hell had
these men come from?

“Justin, down!” Logan yelled, but it was too late.

A deafening crack split the air. Justin’s body jerked, his blue eyes
wide with shock. Blood bloomed across his chest, a crimson stain spreading
rapidly. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible before
his knees buckled.

Logan appeared shocked at first, then the paramedic sprang into action. He
snatched the med bag he’d brought as a precaution and sprinted toward
Justin’s fallen form.

Two more shots went off, and pain hit me like a fucking freight train. I
stared at Tinker in confusion as I sank to the ground, everything going dark
around the edges of my vision. I could hear everything around me, even
though it felt like I was down a long tunnel, voices echoing.

“Logan! Hurry the fuck up!” Dawson’s frantic voice cut
through the chaos.

I felt something pooling beneath me and realized it was my own fucking
blood. The world got darker and darker, and I knew I was going under. Jesus
fucking Christ! I’d lived this damn long, and a snake like Tinker got
the drop on me?

Ridley… What the hell would she do without me? I didn’t want
to leave her. There was still so much I wanted to see and do with her.
Regret slammed into me, as I tried to recall if I’d told her I loved
her before we left.

“Diego!” Logan barked. “Keep pressure on Justin’s
wound. I need to check on Venom.”

I felt someone drop beside me, but I couldn’t make out any shapes
anymore.

“We need ambulances,” Logan shouted. “Two of them.
Now!”

I felt someone rip open my shirt and try to staunch the flow of blood, but
I knew it was too late. Nothing could save me now.

“Dad.” Dawson’s voice broke as someone knelt beside me.
Was it Dawson? “Dad, can you hear me?”

I heard Logan’s voice on the other side of me. “He’s lost
a lot of blood. We need to get him to the hospital immediately.”

Logan worked on packing my wounds. I wanted to tell him to save someone
else, that I’d finally come to the end of my journey, but I
couldn’t form the words. My body felt cold, and soon even the noises
around me faded to nothing.

Ridley… I’m so fucking sorry for leaving you. I’ll
always love you.

* * *

Ridley

I stared at my son in horror, seeing my husband’s blood all over him.
I wordlessly handed him a change of clothes and watched as he rushed off to
a bathroom. Jesus. He’d told me it was bad, but… there was so
much blood.

I looked over at Torch, and he came closer.

“What happened?” I asked. “There were so many of you. Was
Tinker really that hard to take down?”

Torch sighed and ran a hand over his beard. “He wasn’t alone.
Not Wire’s fault. Somewhere he picked up two helpers. While Venom had
his gun to Tinker’s head, the other two came out of nowhere. They shot
Justin first, and while our focus was on him, the other one shot
Venom.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, my knees feeling weak. “How bad? And
don’t fucking lie to me, Torch.”

“It’s bad, Ridley,” he murmured. “He nearly coded
in the ambulance. By some miracle, the paramedics were able to get him back.
They rushed him to surgery the minute we arrived. If it hadn’t been
for Logan, he’d have died before they even got there.”

Right when my knees gave out, someone caught me. I glanced up to see Viking
behind me. He hugged me tight before picking me up and carrying me over to a
chair. He gently eased me down, and I leaned forward, pressing my head to my
knees.

“This can’t be happening,” I whispered. “All these
years, and this happens now? He was supposed to be safer. He stepped down as
VP, and I thought, for sure, most of the danger was behind us.”

Torch took the spot beside me, and Savior sat on the other. We remained
silent, praying and hoping for good news. It felt like an eternity before
two doctors came out. One talked to the Swift Angels first about Justin, and
the other came to me. He faced me, his expression grim, and my heart
dropped.

“Venom has a long road to travel before he’s back on his feet.
He made it through surgery, but… we lost him. We were about to call
time of death, when his heart started beating again. He’s been moved
to recovery, but it’s been decided it would be best to place him in a
coma to help with the healing process.”

“What…” I licked my lips. “What does that
mean?”

“He’s going to sleep until his body is mostly repaired. Then
we’ll see if we can get him awake again.”

“What do you mean you’ll see?” Panic welled inside me.
“He has to wake up!”

The doctor nodded. “I understand how you feel, but his
situation… it’s not the best. For a man his age, well.
There’s a lot of trauma to his body. There’s no way of telling
when he’ll wake up.”

“Or if, right?” I asked, giving a bitter laugh.
“You’re telling me he’s alive, but I may never get the
chance to talk to him again? To see his eyes open, or hear him laugh? What
the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

I heard my voice rising but couldn’t stop it. Tears streaked my
cheek, and I felt the hysteria welling inside me. Then my son was there.
Dawson wrapped me in his arms, and I sobbed against his chest while he spoke
with the doctor.

Venom. You better come back to me! I can’t live without you.

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde


Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

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PREORDER BLITZ: Fallen by Megan Slayer

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: April 4, 2025

 

 

He may be her salvation — if she’s willing to lose her wings all over
again.

 

Livia was cast out of heaven for the crime of falling in love with a human.
So what’s a fallen angel to do when she meets the man of her dreams? Falling
certainly has its perks.

Ty didn’t expect the angel at his party to be fallen or to have a murky
past. He also didn’t expect her to end up in his arms. Now he’s not about to
let the past stand in the way of their future.

 

EXCERPT

 

Parties are so lame.

Livia crossed her arms and stared at the people swaying before her. Hard
rock blasted from the speakers and rumbled the floor. She flicked a lock of
her hair over her shoulder. Dancing, laughing, and more than enough
drinking. She sighed. When was the last time she’d danced and laughed? Hell.
She couldn’t remember.

She wanted to dance, to wrap her arms around a torso thick with muscle, to
rest her head on a taut set of pecs and hear the heartbeat of a red-blooded
male like the one she’d drooled over in her history course. He’d mentioned
throwing an event. She wanted to see him, to see if he was actually like the
persona she’d created for him in her mind.

She snorted. Meeting a guy was probably not the best reason to attend a
costume party off campus, but who cared? It wasn’t like she had anyone
keeping tabs on her.

A young man dressed as a gladiator ambled toward her. “Hel-lo,
beautiful.” A wide grin curled his lips. His blond hair flopped over
his brow as he winked and pointed to her with his sloshing cup. “You
shouldn’t stand in the corner alone. Might get your wings dirty.”

Wings? She crooked one brow. She’d come as a Madonna look-alike, not an
angel. When she glanced over her shoulder, sure enough, her wings were there
— translucent, but there. Odd. “They’ll wash.” Her wings had been
ripped off over two thousand years prior. When – and how — the hell had
they come back?

“Yeah?” He wobbled on his feet. “Feathers work in a washing
machine?” He burped and his dark eyes widened. “I made a
funny.” He swayed again and splashed beer onto her bustier.

Livia gritted her teeth. This wasn’t the man she had in mind. Her dream man
didn’t slop alcohol on anyone — as far as she knew. Was the man in her mind
simply a figment of her imagination? An impossibility? Probably. She’d been
around far too long and seen more than her share of good men fall by the
wayside.

At least washing the beer stench out of her clothes wouldn’t be too
difficult.

“So, do ya wanna go make out?” He licked his lips. “I’m a
great kisser, and I bet you do wonders with those tits.”

“Go home, Brett.”

Livia’s blood turned to fire in her veins. The deep, gravelly voice set her
nerves on edge. If the drunken fool would just blow, she could at least see
the guy who’d come to her aid. If he was Tyler from history class, then even
better.

“Butt out, Ty.” Brett smacked his lips. “We were gonna have
sex. Me and those lovelies.” He reached out, hands hovering over her
chest. “Come to Brett. Again.”

Again? Who was this clown? “I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were
the last man alive,” Livia snapped and slapped his hands away.
“You spilled beer on me, and you’re an ass.”

“You’d know.” He swayed into her personal space and murmured in a
much less slurred tone, “I never forgot you.”

Never forgot her? What the hell was this guy drinking? She stared at the
drunken gladiator. Nothing about him really stood out. Still, at her age,
everything looked a little familiar. He couldn’t possibly be him. Isaiah was
dead. She’d seen him die over three centuries ago.

“Okay, time for Brett to go home. I don’t want shit on my carpet, and
she’s not interested.” The owner of the deep voice stepped out from
behind Livia and grabbed Brett’s arms. Her jaw dropped. This man was the
man. The man. Tyler Wilson embodied her innermost desires, and he was right
there protecting her.

Lean muscle filled out Ty’s tall frame. What would it feel like to have his
hands on her body? To run her fingers through his thick, dark hair and
listen to him murmur dirty things as they explored each other’s bodies —
what would it be like? A flash of bodies moving together and the look of
sheer lust in his blue eyes filled her mind. Oh, good God, it would be
almost heaven. Her pussy clenched and liquid heat coated her panties.

If he felt the heat, too. She couldn’t hope to be so lucky again. The
run-in with Brett or whoever he was had served as a cold reminder of what
she’d fallen for and couldn’t have.

Both men moved through the throng of people and disappeared. She should
stick around and find out if Ty was interested or if he was just keeping an
eye on his property. Not that she could blame him. Dumped beer could be
murder on a sound system. Not that her opinion mattered much. She was just a
partygoer like everyone else there. She folded her arms. Every moment she
waited, her conscience ate into her a little more. Waiting made her look
weak. It made her look needy. Was she needy?

Maybe. Damn.

No. She’d waited long enough. If he really wanted to talk to her, he’d have
come back. She turned and made her way to the apartment door and rummaged
through the pile of coats, looking for hers. Guys like Ty had women chasing
them in swarms. She’d been witness to that every time she walked out of the
Saunders Building. She wasn’t going to follow him around like a damned
puppy. Coat in hand, she turned toward the door. She plowed into a scantily
clad tiger giggling with a cowboy.

“Watch it,” the tiger snapped. “Nice wings, though. Costume
outlet, or did you get them online? I’ve been looking for some just like
them. I want a set. Michael, buy me some like that.”

Livia rolled her eyes. The truth was much too involved. Obscure always
worked. “I don’t remember.”

The cowboy tipped his hat. “Wanna join in?” He bobbed his brows,
and his gaze went straight to her chest. “We’re always looking for
more, and looking at those boobs, you’d be one hell of a third.”

“Michael! You said I was the only one,” she squealed. “No
more thirds.”

Michael shrugged. “Can’t blame me for asking.” He turned his
attention back to Livia. “You in?”

If they only knew what she’d done during her lifetime. “I’m good. No
thanks.” Livia ducked her head and stepped out into the hallway. She
didn’t look up until she hit the stairwell door.

Finally. Freedom.

Livia stopped on the landing and stared up at the sky through the round
stairwell window. Her heart ached. He was out there somewhere. The one man
to complete her. Was he still alive? Had she’d only imagined his death? Or
was she doomed to walk the Earth for the rest of eternity, alone?

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. It was foolish to pine for the
assumed dead, especially when they’d parted so badly. Still, Isaiah held her
heart and her life in his hands, just as he’d had for the last couple
thousand years.

Footsteps thumped behind her, but she didn’t bother to look up.

“Angel?”

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: The Woke and the Dead by Mark Bacon

 

Nostalgia City Mystery #5

 

Mystery

Date Published: 03-13-2025

Publisher: Archer & Clark

 

 

A public war between a governor and a theme park lights the fuse on a story
of hate groups, murder, corruption, racism, and political espionage.

Ex-cop turned theme-park cab driver Lyle Deming finds the body of a park
visitor during an LGBTQ event. The dead man catered gay weddings. Was it a
hate crime?

Arizona governor Rod Gudgel, running for reelection, calls it a random
shooting. He mocks Nostalgia City theme park for its inclusiveness, uses
homophobic and racist slurs, and later challenges the safety of its
rides.

Park CEO, “Max” Maxwell lambasts the governor’s prejudice and
insensitivity, and the fight is on—in public and undercover.  Maxwell
drafts Lyle to investigate the murder while Kate Sorensen, his 6’-2½” public
affairs VP, goes on the offensive in the media.

When an assault rifle attack kills and injures park employees demonstrating
for gay rights at a Gudgel campaign office, Nostalgia City mourns, and Kate
slams the governor’s unsympathetic response to the slaughter. While the FBI
and sheriff’s deputies investigate the crime, the governor redoubles his
efforts to regulate the park out of business.

Looking for a shooting suspect, Lyle gets a little too close to an armed
hate group—with a possible connection to the governor. His lady friend Kate
flies to Montana where she digs into the governor’s unseemly past uncovering
a trail of malfeasance dating back two decades and arousing Gudgel allies
who want to stop her at all cost.

With Lyle’s wry humor and Kate’s stick-to-itiveness the story moves quickly
as mysteries and subplots multiply and loop together threatening the park,
their relationship, and their lives.

 

 

Excerpt

April 5

Kate heard popping sounds and almost simultaneous screams. Bullets crashed through picket signs, crashed through windows, crashed through flesh.

Seconds before, she’d passed a line of gay rights demonstrators marching in front of Governor Gudgel’s new Polk campaign headquarters. When Kate walked into the office, the shooting began.

She dropped to the floor as the storefront picture window shattered and a coffee machine at the back of the room exploded. Somewhere in Kate’s mind, terror mixed with split-second knowledge that the prospect of being shot by a lunatic with an assault weapon had become part of American life. Would this be her final thought?

The shots continued rapidly, pop, pop, pop, one after another. Then stopped.                                                                                                                   

Kate stayed glued to the floor, along with the half dozen office workers. She listened. Sounds eerily similar to moans from the park’s zombie ride drifted in through the broken window. More than a minute without gunfire passed before she dared to raise up on hands and knees, keeping her head low. A man in the corner held his arm, attempting to staunch the blood that soaked his sleeve. Kate’s first impulse was to crawl over to him, but two other people, crouching low, inched to him with towels to stop the bleeding. After another frozen minute, a siren.

When a chorus of sirens sounded, Kate raised up enough to peer through the splintered window out to the street. A sheriff’s car skidded to a stop. Its doors flew open. Two deputies, one armed with a semi-automatic rifle, jumped out and scanned the surrounding buildings. Across the street more black and whites arrived. Uniformed officers dashed up and down the opposite sidewalk.

An ambulance braked to a stop. EMTs leaped out carrying gear. Kate stood up and took tentative steps to the door, her senses on hair-trigger alert.

She stepped outside, gagged, and turned away. Three of the LGBTQ picketers and a sheriff’s deputy lay on the ground, surrounded by blood.

 

About the Author

My first three mysteries were published by Black Opal Books with my debut
novel earning recommendation from the American Library Association.

I started writing mysteries after a writing career in journalism and
marketing. Prior to my novels, Ether Books of the UK published a collection
of my flash fiction mysteries and many of my shorts have been published in
online literary magazines. During my business career I wrote two books for
John Wiley and Sons, one of which was a Library Journal Best Business Book
of the Year. I have an MA in journalism and a golden retriever.

I write the kind of mysteries I like to read.  I appreciate stories
with twists, turns, and puzzles which appeal to the head. But I also like a
mystery that appeals to the heart with a fast pace and challenges and
threats that put the protagonists in peril.

 

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Twitter: @baconauthor

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RELEASE BLITZ: Forever by Gina Detwiler

 

YA Christian Fantasy

Date Published: April 1, 2025

 

 

The End Times have arrived…

Grace Fortune leads the rebellion against the United Earth, devastated by
the belief that her husband, Jared Lorn, has joined the dark side as the son
of the ruthless Supreme Lord Grigori Zazel.

But Jared, now known as the gladiator and demigod Baldyr, is locked in a
desperate battle with his fallen angel father. His father’s plan? To
annihilate not just Israel but the entire world.

As the apocalypse looms, will Grace and Jared find a way to reunite before
the world is destroyed? Can they survive the coming devastation? And what
happens when a new, even more terrifying enemy emerges—one who will
exploit their love and humanity to bring about their downfall?

All these questions and more will be answered in the thrilling conclusion
of The Forlorn series.

 

About the Author

Gina Detwiler is the author of the award-winning YA Supernatural series
Forlorn and is co-author with Priscilla Shirer of the bestselling
middle-grade fantasy series, The Prince Warriors. Her non-fiction books
include The Ultimate Bible Character Guide and The Ultimate Bible Character
Devotional.

 

She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, her dog, several
imaginary friends, and all of the characters from her books, even the dead
ones. She is also the author of three beautiful daughters, for whom she
shares credit with her husband, Steve.

 

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TEASER: Love Before COVID by Greg Scorzo

Dark / Drama / Thriller

Date Published: July 28, 2023

Publisher: Troubadour Books

 

 

“Love before Covid – A raw, philosophical dive into love’s messy reality—unflinching, dark, and unapologetically human. Unlike typical romance novels, LOVE BEFORE COVID is a dialogue-driven exploration of human flaws and ideologies, blending fiction with metaphysical inquiry. It’s not about comfort; it’s about confrontation and insight.”

 

Laced with dark humour, it is best described as traumatic (sur)realism.
Love Before Covid takes the reader on a journey through the mind of Joe
Pastorius – jazz fan, poet, and victim of horrendous sexual and emotional
abuse at the hands of his mother.

The real-time dialogues between the characters that emerge from Joe’s
unconscious come via arguably corrupted memories and dystopian dreams. They
tell us more about Joe than he could ever know, and perhaps more about our
world than you could ever imagine.

Dialogues entail an exploration of clashing perspectives and opinions, that
cause reflection. Today though, our world has been infiltrated by online
dialogues that tend to feel like wild unfiltered streams of human thought,
raw, chaotic and often polarising and devoid of much reflection. Arguably
that attitude, and lack of reflection is mirrored by the characters you will
encounter. The reflection comes from the reader as the situations unfold.
Your moral boundaries will without doubt be pushed to the limit.

You will meet an altruist who can’t stand up for himself, a charming
but violent public intellectual, a beautiful dancer who hates fat people, a
flirty and gregarious bartender who will do anything to get pregnant, a
traumatised art historian who never wants to be a mother, a successful
intellectual Mexican writer who is secretly disapproving of her childhood
friend’s career as a pornstar, the teenage genius son of that pornstar
who has sexual fantasises about his mother, a woman who is pressured into
cutting off her penis and a successful therapist who has a habit of ruining
people’s lives.

And yes, before you ask, some of the characters in this book eventually
catch Covid 19. However, there is always hope. For Joe Pastorious, that
comes in the form of the psychopath named Janet Waverley.

  

Excerpt

 

INTRODUCTION

 

Dear Reader,

This book is both a novel and a collection of dialogues.

The dialogues in this book are moving thought experiments. They portray
elaborate, unfolding situations which, at every turn, force the reader to
examine his or her philosophical intuitions about a range of topics,
situations and people.

These dialogues are not merely fiction told in dialogue form. Fiction is
drama that may (incidentally) comment upon or examine philosophical issues.
Drama normally involves scenes in which dialogue is used to set up and
advance a plot. In this book, plots are used to set up and advance the
dialogues of the characters.

The dialogues in this book are something like philosophy, because the
dramatic elements are merely a pretext to examine the philosophical issues
raised by the situations in which the characters talk to each other. The
dialogues happen in real time and are often deeply frustrating, as dialogues
are in real life. Reading this book, you may feel as though you are
listening in on a series of intensely private conversations.

If you heard any of these conversations in real life, you might feel as
though you were being privy to a rather juicy bit of gossip. Or you might
call the police. You might shed a tear. You might even masturbate (and then
read some more traditional philosophy).

Like any piece of philosophy, the writing in this book is sometimes
laborious. However, unlike traditional philosophy, the aim of this book is
to explore, rather than resolve, a set of philosophical concerns. There are
even issues raised in this book that many well-regarded philosophers find
quite silly – too silly to take seriously as philosophy.

Love Before Covid is thus an attempt to invoke the gadfly spirit of
Socrates in the 21st century, largely by abandoning the academic tradition
he inspired. This book is expected to irritate both lovers of philosophy, as
well as lovers of fiction. It may even irritate people from both sides of
the 21st century’s culture wars.

The plot concerns the love life of a man called Joe Pastorious. However,
this book does not tell you what to think of Joe, nor does it sing his
praises by showing how much he conforms to the most cherished values of our
time. Like many non-fictional people, Joe Pastorious is a complex human
being. You may love him or hate him. To call him imperfect would be an
understatement, but the degree to which he is likeable or loathsome is
thoroughly up to you.

There are other fictional people in this book who also dialogue, but they
only make appearances because of our protagonist. In some ways, they explain
Joe, much more than Joe explains himself.

Joe Pastorious met his wife Janet Waverley in the autumn of 1999. Joe and
Janet fell in love in a place called Leicester, which is a small city in the
middle of England. Many things have been said of Leicester, but one thing
that is not said enough is it is a fantastic place to fall in love. It was
the perfect place for Joe and Janet to fall in love. This is true, despite
the fact that Joe and Janet’s love is anything but perfect.

To truly understand the imperfect nature of this love, we must go back, not
to the beginning, but to an imaginary autumn of 2002. It’s not enough
to merely remember this autumn, from the vantage point of an imaginary
present. We instead must adopt this moment’s perspective, seeing its
events as though they were happening now.

When in the present, one can’t predict the future. Hence, the present
is the best place to understand imperfect people. When people are dead and
we know absolutely everything they have ever done, this creates an illusion
of certainty the present thankfully wipes away. You can’t trust a
corpse, because there is nothing about a corpse’s decisions that may
hurt or disappoint you.

A living, breathing person is not like this. They are only capable of being
truly understood, when they can be trusted. They can only be fully trusted
when their future is uncertain.

Love’s power resides in the romance of this uncertainty.

About the Author

During the pandemic Dr Greg Scorzo completed his first novel ‘LOVE BEFORE COVID’ as well as producing an innovative radio play based on 6
chapters from that book, also called – LOVE BEFORE COVID. available on our YouTube Channel.  and via Audioboom with links to all major podcast platforms.

Greg says, “I was interested in the challenge of writing a novel that was formally experimental, while still being easy for a mass audience to
read and understand. I love the idea of a piece of philosophy that is simultaneously a work of fiction, and a philosophical thought experiment which can function like a great, twisty roller coaster of a story that asks
the reader many questions. Unlike traditional philosophy and many fashionable works of literature, this book purposefully asks questions without giving answers, encouraging readers to think (and emote) for themselves.”

Since gaining his PhD in Philosophy in 2011, Greg Scorzo has aimed to find
creative and original ways to take philosophical thinking outside of
academia. By using modern accessible philosophical dialogue inpublic talks,
podcasts and his novel Love Before Covid, Greg explores clashing
perspectives and opinions that cause reflection. Based in Leicester, he was
a founding member of Culture on the Offensive and runs the podcast The
‘Art of Thinking’.

Dialogues entail an exploration of clashing perspectives and opinions that
cause reflection. Statements and declarations can close minds.

The ‘Art of Thinking’ with Greg Scorzo podcast is available on
YouTube where he does friendly philosophical interrogation of ideas
with many interesting thinkers. Also available via Audioboom linking to all
major podcast platforms.

His extended essays on Arts and Culture as well as Cultural Issues are
available on this platform http://www.gregscorzo.com

He has a passion and extensive knowledge of film and music.

From 2017 – 2020 Greg Scorzo was active in running over 60 engaging
voluntary community sessions, centred around ‘The Art of Thinking’  The focussed on  universal philosophical themes, arts and culture and cultural issues. The ethos behind these events was to encourage the use of EMPATHY, CLARITY and COURAGE in ensuing dialogues with the audience. These were organised by COTO.

He also took up invitations to partner and run sessions at other events,
including the Battle of Ideas Festival at the Barbican London, the
Philosophy Now conference, Leicester Comedy Festival and  DeMontfort
University’s Cultural Exchanges festival. He is always interested to
partner up with other like minded people.

 

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BOOK BLITZ: Astral Seeds by Jhani Mills

 

Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Date Published: October 28, 2024


 

Astral Seeds marks the dawn of a new reckoning in Eclipse of the Celestial
War, where fate is no longer a distant prophecy but a force unraveling in
real time. As the Primordial Dragon stirs, its presence sends ripples
through the fabric of the universe, shaking the foundations of power and
trust. The Dragon Council, once the pillar of order, faces an uprising as
the Keepers step from the shadows, weaving their own designs into the
celestial tapestry.

Kingdoms stand at the edge of ruin, their rulers caught between survival
and sacrifice. Dragon riders and Starborn witches walk the fine line between
destiny and destruction, their choices shaping the course of a war far older
than any of them realize. As old alliances fracture and new ones emerge from
the ashes, the cosmos itself seems to hold its breath, waiting for the spark
that will either reignite balance or consume everything in its path.

In a world where even the stars are not beyond corruption, the seeds of war
take root in the hearts of those willing to fight for a future still
unwritten.

 

Praise for Astral Seeds Eclipse of the Celestial War:

“Loved it! Astral Seeds soars with cosmic stakes, dragons, and
prophecies, weaving a vibrant tapestry of epic fantasy sure to captivate
dreamers.” Reedsy Discovery

 

“A fascinating fantasy world featuring a great protagonist and cosmic
repercussions. Astral Seeds certainly delivers for those fantasy readers
with an affinity for stars and astrology. Terra Arcana is an immersive world
worth visiting.” Independent Book Review

 

“A Must-Read for Fantasy Enthusiasts” – Readers’
Favorite

 

“Astral Seeds by Jhani Mills was a captivating   
fantasy book, full of action, otherworldly powers, and dragons. ”
— OnlineBookClub.org

About the Author

Jhani Mills is a passionate storyteller who weaves gripping tales of
fantasy, resilience, and cosmic conflict. Her works, including Whispers
Where the Wildflowers Bloom and the Astral Seeds series, explore the depths
of love, loss, and the enduring strength of the human (and inhuman) spirit.
With a talent for crafting intricate worlds and compelling characters, she
invites readers on epic journeys where fate, power, and destiny
collide.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: Shattered Sight by Liz Milliron

 

THE JACKSON DAVIS MYSTERIES

 

Police Procedural Mystery

Date Published: 03/18/2025

Publisher: Harbor Lane Books, LLC


 

NIAGARA FALLS POLICE DETECTIVE JACKSON DAVIS IS LIVING A LIE.

He has the perfect life: married, two children, a home, a promising
career.

Underneath, however, he battles self-doubt and guilt over the explosion
during the pursuit of a suspect that cost his partner her sight and her
career. He denies having PTSD or any trauma related to the event, but those
around him know better.

When Jackson returns to active duty and is tapped to lead the investigation
into the death of a prominent local business woman, all of this comes to the
forefront. He must learn to work with a new partner and deal with his
personal demons if he is to catch the killer-or he risks losing it
all.

Shattered Sight by Liz Milliron is perfect for fans of Hid From Our Eyes by
Julia Spencer-Fleming, Don’t Look Down by Hilary Davidson, and The Walt
Longmire books by Craig Johnson.

About the Author

Liz Milliron has been making up stories, and creating her own endings for
other people’s stories, for as long as she can remember. She’s
worked for twenty years in the corporate world, but finds making things up
is far more satisfying than writing software manuals. A lifelong mystery
fan, she is the author of The Laurel Highlands Mysteries and The Home Front
Mysteries
, both from Level Best Books. Her short fiction has appeared at
Uppagus and Mysterical-e. and been in Lucky Charms: 12 Crime Tales, the
Anthony award-winning Blood on the Bayou (the 2016 Bouchercon anthology),
Fish Out of Water, Malice Domestic 12 – Mystery Most Historical and
The Killer Wore Cranberry: A Fifth Course of Chaos.

Liz lives near Pittsburgh with her son and a very spoiled retired-racer
greyhound named Koda. She is a past-president of the Pittsburgh chapter of
Sisters in Crime, and the current vice-president, and she is the National
Sisters in Crime Education Liaison. Liz is also a member of Pennwriters,
International Thriller Writers, and the Historical Novel Society.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Instagram

 

Purchase Link

Amazon