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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: The Black Rose by Frances Paul

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The Black Rose
Frances Paul
Publication date: October 14th 2025
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller

“Intense, a little bruising, and it doesn’t let you walk away untouched.”

— ★★★★★ Reader Review

Some weapons are born. Others are made.
She is the perfect operative.
A discarded orphan, remade by the very hands that broke her.
Trained to seduce. Conditioned to kill. Reborn as Elara Everhart.

They gave her new names. New faces. New identities, whichever the mission required.
Now, they call her Raina.
And they’ve sent her into the lion’s den.

Her target: Axel Voss. Billionaire. Powerbroker. Threat.
He’s everything she was trained to dismantle.
But he sees too much. Speaks too little.
And when he touches her, he wakes something she was never meant to feel.

She is the weapon they created.
But he’s the variable they never planned for.

What begins as a mission spirals into obsession.
And survival will cost more than her cover.
Because the most dangerous thing isn’t failing the mission,
It’s forgetting who the real enemy is.

If you love psychological thrillers with espionage, romantic suspense, and heart‑stopping twists, The Black Rose will keep you breathless until the very last page.

“To master the art of the strike, first let the target marinate in your charm and wit, until they are ripe for the taking.” – Elara Everhart

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

I stepped out of the cab and into the gallery, the air instantly changing around me. Heads turned. Eyes followed. The black Dolce & Gabbana dress I wore fit like it had been sewn onto my skin, elegant without trying, powerful without needing to speak. My hair, sleek and black, fell in glossy waves down my back, every strand precisely where it belonged. I walked with purpose, each step measured, as I took in the room.

It didn’t take long to find him.

Axel Voss stood in a more secluded wing of the gallery where the crowd had thinned. I spotted him across the space. His back was to me, dressed in a tailored dark gray suit that fit too perfectly to be anything but custom. His frame was lean and strong, his posture relaxed, hands tucked in his pockets as he studied a painting. He wasn’t just looking. He was dissecting it.

My attention moved to the guards. Two of them. Strategically placed in opposite corners of the room, trying not to look like security. They blended in well enough with the other patrons, but their eyes told the truth. Constantly scanning.

I inhaled and adjusted the strap of my dress. I ran my hands over my curves, making sure everything looked in place. My cue had come.

Each step felt burdened, as if what I was about to do had sunk deep into my limbs.

The rhythm of my heels against the marble echoed faintly. I moved closer, slipping into his orbit. I was near enough now for him to catch the light scent of my perfume, floral, soft, meant to linger without announcing itself.

I stopped beside him, eyes landing on the painting he was analyzing. It was abstract, wild with motion. Crimson slashed across the canvas, tangled with violent blues and fractured gold. The brushwork oscillated between jagged bursts and smooth sweeps, an unsettling mix of control and chaos.

I spoke, keeping my voice soft and level. Close enough to feel intimate, just loud enough to be heard.

“The intensity of the strokes is remarkable,” I said. “The way the colors collide feels almost violent, yet there’s a strange harmony in the chaos.”

He didn’t respond. Not verbally. But I felt it. His attention was on me now as much as the art. I let the silence stretch a second longer, then continued, my tone calm, analytical. “It’s as if the artist was fighting an inner battle. Conflict and catharsis, all bleeding onto the canvas. The jagged strokes speak of anger or defiance, but the way the hues blend reveals a deep vulnerability… like they couldn’t commit to full destruction.”

I leaned in just slightly, examining the layers of the painting, voice dropping.

“It’s the tension that makes it work. The pull between restraint and abandon. It feels… raw.”

The silence settled again, delicate but dense.

Then I allowed a smirk to touch my lips.

“Or maybe they just threw paint at the canvas after a bad day and decided to call it art.”

That broke it. He turned toward me, finally.

His eyes met mine.

Heat flashed between us. The force of his gaze hit harder than I expected.

My breath caught, not out of fear but from the pressure of it. He was already trying to read me.

I knew that look. He was hunting for the truth inside my performance.

I didn’t flinch.

Even when my pulse started to climb beneath my skin, I held my ground.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The gallery around us faded. It was just him. Just me.

Then I stepped back, breaking the moment on my terms.

I turned without hesitation and walked away, slipping into the flow of bodies beyond the archway. My retreat was smooth.

Behind me, I felt his gaze linger, and so did the eyes of his guards.

I didn’t need to look back to know he was still watching the space I had just walked away from.

Back in the main gallery, I finally exhaled. The encounter had gone as planned. I had said what

I needed to. Played the part.

But the crackle between us wasn’t part of the plan.

And I felt it. Still pulsing through me.

This was only the beginning. One step into a game layered with risk, manipulation, and consequences I wasn’t sure I fully understood.

But I had just stepped onto the board.

And Axel Voss had noticed.

Author Bio:

Frances Paul is an author of emotionally charged, high-stakes fiction that captivates readers with its mix of psychological suspense, romance, and intricate plotting. Her work explores the fine line between love and survival, delving into themes of resilience, sacrifice, and the secrets we keep.

She is the author of Sea of Scars, a moving story of loss and redemption, and The Black Rose, a gripping psychological thriller that draws readers into a world where trust is dangerous and every choice carries lasting consequences.

With a distinctive voice and a cinematic style, Frances creates unforgettable characters and layered narratives that linger long after the final page. Her passion for storytelling comes from a lifelong fascination with the human heart and its capacity to endure even in the darkest of circumstances.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / TikTok / X


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The Black Rose Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Descendants of the Big House by C. Vonzale Lewis

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Descendants of the Big House
C. Vonzale Lewis
(A Horde of Dead Poets)
Publication date: October 14th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Fantasy, Mystery

Beatrice Monroe is still getting used to the knowledge that she was born a champion for Good and Evil. She spends her days combing through her great grandmother’s journals trying to find answers to what this newfound ability means for her as a member of law enforcement.

When a woman walks into her precinct claiming her aunt was murdered, Beatrice discovers a link between their families that may just have the answers she needs. But those answers are not easy to find. Because this mystery’s roots are buried in the past with five young girls and what they gave birth to…in The Big House.

Descendants of the Big House is a standalone installment in A Horde of Dead Poets collection featuring seven authors and their stories inspired by famous literary poems. If you often find yourself steering toward a dark, mysterious, isolated location; if family curses haunt you and unreliable narrators keep you in suspense, you won’t want to miss a single volume in this gripping collection.

Perfect for fans of T. Kingfisher, Simone St. James, Stephen King, and Shirley Jackson.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

“I think somebody did something,” Mr. Taylor announced suddenly, voice raised. “My wife, my children. Not right. Not right at all.” He started crying. “I can’t convince anybody to listen to me.”

I got up and kneeled by his chair. “I’m listening, Mr. Elijah.” It didn’t dawn on me that I might have overstepped. The pain in his plea just pulled at me. I understood the feeling of being lost so well, growing up in a home filled with abuse and no one listening to my own cries for help.

He looked down at me. “I appreciate that. You find ’em. You find the one that took my Mary. She was the only woman I ever loved. And our children. Godsend. No matter what that man told her at the crossroads.”

“What man?” I asked, my blood running cold. Of course, I knew what man he was referring to, but I didn’t dare say it out loud.

He flapped his hand in the air again.

I looked at Gautier and dipped my head toward my bag. I didn’t want to upset him further, but I needed to confirm what I already suspected. Mary had met Papa Sin at the crossroads.

Gautier pulled out the book Odette gave us, still in an evidence bag, and came over and gave it to me. I pulled it out and Mr. Taylor gasped.

“Get that evil book out of my house!” He tried to get to his feet and ended up falling back in the chair. I straightened and, after thrusting the book at Gautier, helped Mr. Elijah right himself.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Cherie asked, rushing over. “What evil?” She looked at the book. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but it’s upsetting my daddy.”

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am. But your sister Natalie sent this book to Odette along with a letter claiming she was going to…” I looked down at Mr. Taylor. His eyes were wild.

“She swore she’d gotten rid of that book. She swore.” He let out a sob. “That man told her she’d birth evil. That twins were broken.” He caved in on himself, chest heaving as he cried.

“I better take him to his room,” Cherie said, her face filled with concern.

Gautier got up and helped her take him in the back. I stood there berating myself for upsetting him. I shouldn’t have asked about the book. But I had to get answers, right?

Author Bio:

Carla Vonzale Lewis likes her martini’s shaken…never stirred. Though she was born in Georgia, please don’t mistake her for a Georgia peach. She’s more like a prickly pear. Speaking of being born, someone asked her recently if she remembered her birth, and all she had to say was, “Yes, I do remember that handsy doctor pulling me out into the cold. Right Bastard!!!”

Despite being born in the South, she grew up in the North. California to be exact. And every once in a great while, she gets to experience all four seasons. But mostly, it’s just heat.

Her debut novel, LINEAGE, was released July 16, 2019 and she fully intends to ride that joy for the rest of her life.

When she’s not concocting her next contemporary fantasy story, she enjoys reading, binge watching shows on Netflix, and trying to convince her husband that getting a dog is a wonderful idea.

Website / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / Pinterest

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Descendants of the Big House Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Xonarye – Japan by S.H.S.

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Xonarye: Japan
S.H.S.
Publication date: September 1st 2025
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Young Adult

In the snowy heartlands of Izumo, Japan, Leaf Brodie seeks answers. What begins as a path of discipline and inner reflection under the watchful eye of Master Kenji becomes a deeper journey-one where ancient secrets lie hidden in the folds of tradition and trust can shatter with a single lie.

As Leaf explores sacred shrines and timeless landscapes, a betrayal from within rocks his world. Yuji, once a friend and fellow student, is exposed as a spy for the powerful Reblick syndicate. The destruction he leaves behind is devastating-but the artifact he steals, a sacred belt buckle, is missing one thing: the next clue.

That clue isn’t written on paper or etched in stone-it’s been burned into human skin. On Master Kenji’s back is a mysterious script, unknown even to him, and unlike anything Leaf or Selina have seen before. What they uncover is not just a lost language-it’s a gateway to the forgotten land of Xonarye.

Blending action, cultural discovery, betrayal, and ancient myth, Xonarye: Japan is a powerful continuation of the global adventure.

The complete series:

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

When the dojo finally came into view, Leaf’s sense of calm and safety was suddenly shattered.

The main gate hung open, crooked on its hinges. Shards of splintered wood lay scattered across the stone pathway. A few windows had been shattered, with broken glass spread all around him . The paper screens of the main hall were torn and flapping loosely in the breeze. It looked like a storm had blown through but there had been no storm. Leaf’s heart pounded in his chest. He quickened his pace, stepping
over the debris, eyes scanning every corner. The courtyard was a mess, the practice weapons strewn about, some cracked in half. The tatami mats were shredded, spilling straw across the floor like scattered autumn leaves.

“Selina?” he called out, his voice sharp against the silence. “Yuji? Kenji?”

Nothing but the breeze whistling through some rocks around the dojo.

The rooms were upturned. Mats tossed aside, scrolls unravelled, some torn. Kenji’s study , usually immaculate , was in chaos. Books were thrown from their shelves, papers were scattered, and ink was spilled like blood across the floor. Kenji’s prized calligraphy scrolls hung lopsided, some sliced through as if by a blade. The room smelled of old ink and cold air, carrying a whisper of ash as if something had been burned. Leaf’s mind raced. Who would do this? Why?

He moved quickly through each room, heart hammering. No one. No sign of life. He reached the small back garden where the snow had settled undisturbed.

Suddenly, footsteps crunched behind him. Leaf spun, fists clenched. Selina stepped out from the shadows, her eyes sharp, surveying the damage.

“What happened?” she asked, voice low and controlled.

Leaf shook his head, the words tangled in his throat.

Author Bio:

Scott Shepherd is an emerging Australian author with a passion for adventure, storytelling, and the lure of lost lands. Hailing from Naracoorte, South Australia, Scott self-published his first novel in 2020, introducing readers to the daring world of Xonarye. Since then, he has written three books in the Xonarye series, bringing his vivid imagination to life through tales set in exotic locations steeped in mystery and culture.

In 2025, Scott re-released a refined edition of his debut novel, Xonarye: Australia, followed by the second instalment, Xonarye: Cuba, with the third book, Xonarye: Japan, set for release later the same year.

A part-time novelist, full-time family man, and self-described “regular guy,” Scott continues to write from his hometown, where he balances storytelling with hiking, fatherhood, and shared adventures with his partner. Whether at his desk or exploring the outdoors, Scott is always chasing the next great journey—on the page or beyond.


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Xonarye: Japan Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: You Don’t Belong Here by D.M. Siciliano

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You Don’t Belong Here
D.M. Siciliano
Publication date: October 13th 2025
Genres: Adult, Horror, Paranormal, Suspense

A girl who feels invisible finally faces her worst fear on her sixteenth birthday and hastily makes a dark deal.

An old man returns to the same place every year on the anniversary of his wife’s death, to have one last moonlit dance with her.

A woman’s health concerns are ignored, and it leads to global chaos.

A young woman goes home to bury her father and sell his house but finds that the home is no longer hers.

An old man with Alzheimer’s becomes increasingly lost in his own house, which seems to be doing its own forgetting.

Two young girls find a Ouija board, thinking they’re communicating with a deceased relative, but find something much more cunning.

A woman, grieving the loss of her baby, takes a trip to a remote cabin in Tahoe. Her worried sister goes after her and isn’t prepared for what she finds.

A woman’s drive through California’s winding roads leads her to a perilous and sinister discovery lurking in the woods.

A woman takes a job as a nanny for two troublesome kids, only to find that the children aren’t the problem.

Goodreads / Amazon

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SNEAK PEEKS:

ROUND & ROUND

Once she was gone, the house grew quiet, the house got dark, even in daylight, even with all the lights on. He had taken to turning all the lights on most of the time, hoping it might give him some clarity, some help in understanding and navigating the house he knew inside and out. He’d flip the lights on, and then the nurse would come and shut most of them off behind him once he left the room. It was as if the house’s memory was beginning to slip, just like the old man’s. Things seemed to make less sense to both the man and the house. What might happen if the house couldn’t remember what its curving walls gave way to? What if it forgot where a door should be? Or even where the entrance and exit of the labyrinth in the backyard must be? He was certain the forgetfulness wasn’t all on him. Yes, his mind was playing tricks on him, but there was more to it than that. He played a part in it for sure, but there was something about the house. It was part of him, after all. His blood, sweat, and tears had gone into building it. The house was as much a part of him as his daughter was, perhaps even more.

—

SUNNY DAYS AHEAD

Tommy took a long sip of his milk, leaving a trail of a white mustache above his top lip. “She died.” He took the sleeve of his pajamas and wiped it across his lip, removing the stain. “She got sick. Sad sick.” He leaned back against a pillow on the sofa and pulled the corner of the throw blanket up to his chest.

“Oh, I am so sorry.”

“She got confused a lot. And cried a lot. She confused me and Danny. Didn’t know who was who. Sometimes she yelled at my father for no reason. Sometimes she got so sad and nervous that she would itch her arms until they bled. That’s what Dad said.”

Terry pulled her sleeves down low, so as not to call attention to the long red marks that now plagued her arms. They began to itch and tease at her, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she locked her hands around her teacup. “That is very sad.”

“When everyone went to sleep, she stayed awake. She would walk up and down the halls. Open our doors and just stand there at the bed watching us sleep.”

A chill of recognition swept over Terry.

“If we were bad, she would lock us up in our room.”

—

HYSTERIA

If only women’s health had been taken more seriously, perhaps the invasion would never have happened. If the Earth were a woman, it would be giving the human race the middle finger and saying, I told you so!” right about now. What’s left of Earth anyway. It might as well be called something else entirely. Or perhaps that is a human ego’s way of thinking. Since human life on this planet changed, why couldn’t it still be Earth?

I’d spoken to my doctor more in the past few months than my literary agent. It was my third visit in six months for the same problem. What started with what my doctor had called vague, benign symptoms, turned into a nightmare. Even she recommended we might have to consider more invasive methods to deal with it. Hysterectomy: that’s what she’d called it. Such a strange word. Such an offensive base. In ancient Greece, hysteria was thought to be caused by the uterus, thus hysterectomy, so the removal of the uterus would cure the hysteria. If anything in life was that easy. In hindsight, I’d have preferred to have been hysterical and called it a day.


Author Bio:

DM is a lover of all things creative. From the moment she could speak, growing up in Massachusetts, she had a passion for flair and drama, putting on concerts for anyone who was even remotely interested (and even for those who were not). A storyteller by nature, she first pursued her young dream of becoming a singing diva while living in Arizona. She soon found that stage life wasn’t the only form of storytelling she craved, so she dropped the mic and picked up a pencil instead. She still hasn’t given up on her diva-ness, and hopes her pencil stays as sharp as her tongue.

A dark sense of humor and curiosity for haunted houses and things out of the ordinary led her down the path of completing her first novel, Inside. Several other projects are constantly floating around in her head and her laptop daily, and sometimes keeping her up much too late at night. Occasionally, those projects are so dark and twisted, she needs to leave a nightlight on.

She now lives in Northern California with her two fluffy furbabies, Cezare and Michaleto.

Website / Bookbub / Facebook / Instagram


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You Don’t Belong Here Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Royal Danger by Avishai El

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Royal Danger
Avishai El
(The Mystique Series, #2)
Publication date: October 15th 2025
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Psychological, Thriller

Something happened to Vaughan.

Those closest to her speak in half-truths and glances. One moment, she was walking among them—intuitive, brave, haunted. The next, she was part of something no one can explain. A fracture in time. A storm no one saw coming. Some believe she stumbled into it. Others believe she was always meant to be its center.

They say she inherited a crown, but no one saw it placed on her head.

They say she vanished during the final seal, but no one witnessed her fall.

And they say the darkness never stopped chasing her… even now.

There were signs. Whispers. Visions. A golden ticket that kept appearing in strange places. A man named Eli who stayed by her side long after others fled. And a mother who saw too much, too late.

Was it destiny? Madness? Or something that lives in the shadows between?

Royal Danger is a slow-burning psychological mystery thriller laced with horror, surreal visions, and eerie spiritual phenomena. It is a story about intuition, unraveling identity, and the thin, terrifying veil between love, legacy, and annihilation.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

“Flower’s body trembled as she sat on the cold floor, each breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The weight of the guilt crushed her, and her mind swirled with memories of the warnings—the cryptic visions that had haunted her for so long. She had been entrusted with Vaughan’s safety, told over and over to protect her, but somehow, she had failed. It wasn’t just a warning; it was a responsibility—one she had let slip through her fingers.

Why didn’t I act sooner? The question echoed in her mind. Vivid images of Andres flashed through her thoughts: his smiling face, his trusting eyes, and the way he had died so suddenly, so violently. The sharp memory of his lifeless body still haunted her dreams. Could she have saved him? No, but the feeling of regret overwhelmed her.

Her heart ached with the familiar sting of loss, of failure. She frantically looked at her phone for any sign of Vaughan, but all she saw was the silent screen, the unanswered call. Her thoughts twisted, each one more unbearable than the last. What if this is it? What if it’s too late?

The shrill, agonizing cry that had erupted from[…]”

“ in ragged gasps as she tried to figure out how to break free. The cold, hard floor beneath her felt like it was closing in.

Then, she stumbled.

Her foot collided with something heavy, sending it crashing to the ground. The sound of metal clanging against stone resounded through the room, and as her eyes darted down, she saw it—a pan, ancient and worn, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to dance in the dim light.”

Author Bio:

Avishai El (1989-present) was birthed in Morocco to her mom who is Moor American. She grew up in Morocco. For 5 years she has been a Certified Raw Food Educator and Holistic Health Coach helping people with everything from weight loss to chronic illness. She has worked in hospitals getting babies off of respirators, helped cancer patients shrink their tumors holistically, and has traveled to receive an award for her tireless education on the healing benefits of essential oils.

Her first published book was “Earthly Desserts” which received 5-stars. She has since published self-help books, journals, and notebooks that support the health of her clients. She teaches professional and entrepreneurial women how to get rid of stress, drop the pounds, and create the life they deserve. She has provided published resource books on Amazon so they can do just that.

Website / Facebook / Instagram / X


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Royal Danger Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Blind Devotion by Addy Anders

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Blind Devotion: A Dark Mafia Romance: Letters of Ruin
Addy Anders
(Letters of Ruin, #1)
Publication date: September 29th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance, Mafia, Romance

PERSETTA

Lost until HIM
I thought the night fate brought us together was the worst night of my life.
I was wrong.
Blinded and with no memory, how was I supposed to know any better?
He’s cold-blooded, cunning, and dangerous—the head of the French mafia.
He’s everything I shouldn’t want in a man, but I do.
For my safety, I have to seduce him.
Instead, with every threat, he’s the one who draws me further into his web.
It’s so easy to fall into his arms as my demons slowly release from their cages.
I feel safe with him.
Until I remember the truth.

ADRIEN

Broken until HER
I walled off my shredded soul and black heart long ago.
No one ever gets in anymore, and yet my guard lowered for her.
She stole away on my boat, injured and with no memories.
The only clue to who she once was—a tattoo on her calf.
This woman. She’s my past. My present. My future.
The one who got away, in more than one sense.
Years ago, I broke our families’ alliance and turned my back on her.
Last night, I was hired to kill her.
My little survivor. My butterfly. If only I recognized her…

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Just like yesterday, his palm pressed against my throat, but this time he didn’t squeeze. His thumb brushed up and down over my pulse point. His skin trembled against my own—warm, firm, unyielding, and yet somehow vulnerable too. Maybe that was what drew me to him, because it wasn’t rational how much I wanted him closer, his arms around me, his body against mine.

We were suspended like that for seconds…minutes. It could have been hours. Somehow deep inside, I felt protected for the first time in forever. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t have to, but in my jailer’s arms, in this moment, the void melted away and lightness spread. I wanted more, but the instant I reached for him, before I even touched him, he jerked away.

He cleared his throat.

“Never ask that of me again.”

“Or what?”

He stomped across the room and threw the door open so hard it crashed against the wall and skittered back in scattered croaks.

A strangled laugh choked out of me. Pain shot up my side, and tears seeped under my eye dressings. None of this was funny, but his switch in moods was giving me whiplash, especially after the lightness of that memory.

“You don’t possess a touch of sunshine, do you? You’re angry. Tormented, so you hide behind violence thinking it makes you so tough, but you’re nothing but a big ol’ grump, trying to spread his own misery.”

“You know nothing about me.”

He didn’t stick around for my rebuttal. The door battered the frame on his way out, and the lock clicked loudly into place. His absence left me lonelier than before, and I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. One thing I was almost certain of though. He didn’t really want to kill me. The next time I saw him, I’d put that to the test.

Author Bio:

Addy Anders writes dark romance meant to tug hard on your heartstrings and never let go. Her books deliver deliciously possessive anti-heroes, strong heroines, a touch of angst to set you on edge, and a cocktail of spice.

Addy loves to travel, preferably outside of major cities. When she’s not writing or out in the wilderness, she can be found with her kindle and a very large cup of tea surrounded by her very supportive husband, two kiddos, and two fur babies.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / TikTok


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Blind Devotion Blitz

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Old Ghosts by Janina Franck

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Old Ghosts
Janina Franck
(Saoirse Kennedy, #1)
Publication date: October 7th 2025
Genres: Adult, Crime, LGBTQ+, Suspense

Notorious crime boss Saoirse Kennedy finds herself entangled in a web of mystery when she receives orders to eliminate a detective and faces the resurgence of her haunting past.
In the midst of this city plagued by crime, Detective Lily Rose sets out to apprehend Saoirse, but their paths intertwine when a new, sinister force emerges, prompting an uneasy alliance to protect their city.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

Two more men were already waiting for her in the large entry hall, dressed the same as the guards outside, pointing their guns at her.

Saoirse smiled her best cheerful smile, raising her hands in resignation and slowly advancing toward them with carefree steps. “Now, boys, that’s no way to ask a lady to have tea.”

As expected, they barely responded with more than a low growl.

“All I want to do is talk to Garrison. Look, I didn’t even bring a gun.” She gestured to her hips, clad in tight black jeans, wearing an equally tight leather jacket over her olive-green T-shirt.

Her having come unarmed obviously came as a surprise to the guards, because for just a moment, they glanced at one another in an attempt at wordless communication. That rookie mistake was all Saoirse needed. She dashed forward, keeping her body low, and ducked underneath the gun one of them was holding, ramming her head into his ribs. He not only stumbled backward, but he fell, his gun clattering onto the floor. By the time it was in Saoirse’s hands, the other man’s gun was pointed at her again, while hers was aimed at him. However, after a moment’s reflection, she moved it from him to the unarmed man on the floor.

Still smiling, she tilted her head to one side. “I’m sure your boss wouldn’t care if I killed him. But would you? Willing to risk it?” She paused to let her words sink in. Then she repeated her earlier statement. “All I want to do is talk to Garrison. Are you gonna let me go up those stairs, or does he need to die first?”

Her eyes were on his, unblinking and firm. Now it all depended on whether he knew who she was. Though, judging by his glance from her to his partner on the ground, he had a fair idea. Excruciatingly slowly, he lowered both his gun and head.

“There’s a good boy.” Saoirse beamed at him and pranced past him and up the stairs. Except for the guy manning the computers, Garrison wouldn’t have any more security in the building. He didn’t like having too many people around. It made things too confusing, and it lost a significant amount of class.

She had barely made it to the first landing, when she heard the click of a gun’s safety. Dropping her body to the ground immediately, she twisted and fired. The guard’s shot missed her by several meters as her own hitting his arm threw off his aim. Instead of retaliating further, Saoirse sprinted up the last steps of the stairs, and determinedly kicked down the door to what she knew to be Garrison’s office. He wouldn’t change it. Not when it had the perfect view across his grounds and ideal lighting from its positioning.

She was right.

He sat at his desk, facing the door, looking very grave.

“Saoirse,” he said, his tone level. He wore a navy suit today, and a light grey, almost silver tie. His brown hair was brushed and perfectly parted at the side, and his beard neatly trimmed. His hands were clasped together, his elbows stemmed on the table.

“Hello, Luis, old chap,” Saoirse responded. “Mind if we have an uninterrupted chat?”

Author Bio:

Janina is a nature-loving story-addict who may have tea and chocolate running through her veins. Guided by her daydreams, she started writing stories at a young age and never really stopped. Now living in Ireland, she loves to try new things and experience adventures, both real and imagined.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram


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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Barnabas Bartholomew and the Undead Freshmen by Matthew Lett

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Barnabas Bartholomew and the Undead Freshmen
Matthew Lett
Publication date: September 16th 2025
Genres: Coming of Age, Fantasy

Death isn’t the end of education—at least not at UniverZity U., where fourteen-year-old Barnabas “Barney” Bartholomew is about to begin his freshman year.

As a recently raised zombie trying to make his undead mother proud, Barney must navigate the haunted halls of an underground mausoleum-turned-school, where strict Crypt Keepers enforce ancient rules and mysterious passages hide untold dangers. With fellow freshman facing expulsion for merely refusing to eat their grits, Barney knows he’ll need more than just good grades to survive. But when he discovers his beloved grandfather’s connection to this shadowy institution, Barney realizes there might be more to UniversZity U.—and himself—than meets his speckled blue eyes.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

“What in the heck is a lich?” Barney asked.

“It’s a member of the Undead class, like us, except it was brought back to life by a sorcerer or a necromancer for evil purposes.”

“What sort of evil purposes?” Barney asked. There was a knot in his stomach; a bundle of nerves resting on the edge of a guillotine.

“Hard to tell,” Pudgy replied. “Depends on what the sorcerer wants the lich to do. He could use it as an assassin, I suppose, to knock off his enemies, or as a bodyguard. Or in this case, a guard dog over a graveyard.”

“But why a graveyard? What would a sorcerer want in a graveyard anyway? And what if it’s not even there? This lich thing. Suppose it’s gone?”

Pudgy shrugged. “Then it’s gone and we don’t have to worry about anything. But if it is real, and there is a lich wandering around, it’ll be looking for souls to eat. That’s why we need the crucifix, to repel it.”

“’Souls to eat?’” Barney repeated. “Are you serious?” He felt light-headed for a second; the world beyond his eyes in a lazy swoon.

“Quite serious,” Pudgy answered. “That’s what liches do. They eat the undead, and if they can, they’ll eat their souls too.”

Barney’s face paled at the thought. An undead cannibal running around the graveyard? That’s what it was! An undead cannibal! The dead eating the dead, for Christ’s sake!

Pudgy caught the look on Barney’s face; pallid, the sickly color of cream cheese left out in the sun for too long. He snickered. “Hey, calm down. It’s a legend, remember? We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Barney didn’t answer, his tongue frozen to the roof of his mouth, when Millicent cleared her throat. “Guys?” She tapped the face of her wristwatch. “We need to go if we plan on making curfew. You can discuss the ins-and-outs of liches later, but we need to move.”

“You’re right,” Pudgy said. “I’ll take the lead with the flashlight. Milly, you’ll be behind me. Barney next and then Marcy, and I don’t want you two kissing back there. Agreed?”

Barney blushed clear to his toes. Marcy smiled at him. Millicent laughed out loud and Pudgy winked at Barney, who was staring at the tops of his shoes with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, yeah, okay…” he mumbled. “Funny, real funny, now can we go?”

And so they entered the southwest tunnel, its passages by now near memorized. It was more of a home away from home for the children; its twists and turns nothing more than well-travelled streets and avenues in their hometowns.

Barney stepped through (minus his flashlight which he’d given to Pudgy), when a thought struck him like a phantom stone in the darkness: Pudgy never fully answered my question, he thought. Why the graveyard? Why would a sorcerer (or a necromancer, for that matter) want a lich guarding a graveyard for him? Hmmm…

###

The trip to the graveyard took less than forty-five minutes, and the four of them arrived to find the wrought iron gates unlocked, and the tombstones shrouded in a silky mist of pale fog. A raven, with one eye missing, was perched on a spire atop the gate. It looked down at the children, as if considering their plight, then cawed in its shrill voice a single word they heard all too well:

“BEWARE!”

The raven took flight after its portent of doom. It did a hop and a half-skip, spread its wings, and then soared over the face of the moon reflected in the wavering mist. The raven disappeared as Pudgy opened the gate in a scream of rust. It was loud in the tranquil of the graveyard; as good as any doorbell that rings after midnight.

“Smooth move,” Barney quipped.

“Sorry,” Pudgy said. “I didn’t expect that. Let’s go.”

They walked through the gates; their eyes blind, sinking in what they could not see. Silence–the full-time caretaker of the grounds–greeted them. Distant thunder rolled over the clouds in the east. Lightning followed and took a snapshot of the graveyard for posterity’s sake.

And had there been a black cat perched on the back of a tombstone, with its yellow lamp-lit eyes and its spine arched in a splay of fur, it would not have surprised Barney in the least. The graveyard was spooky, if not picturesque in the simmering light of the moon; a mural better suited on the backdrop of a Halloween landscape.

“What now?” Barney whispered. The air was dank, hollow

somehow. There was no need to whisper, but the graveyard almost

demanded—dared that it be so upon its consecrated ground.

Author Bio:

Matthew Lett was born in Kassel, Germany. Currently, he lives in Sapulpa, Oklahoma with his wife of 39 years, and their two daughters, who also reside in Oklahoma. He’s also a Veteran of the United States Navy, serving on both the U.S.S. Saratoga and U.S.S. America aircraft carriers from 1985-1989. Matthew has been a prolific writer for over 20 years and is a multi-published author with an array of Novels, Novellas, Novelettes, and assorted short stories in a variety of genres. Most of his work can be found in Horror/Suspense/Mystery categories.
During his leisure time, Matthew enjoys rock-n’-roll music, attends church on a regular basis, watches Mystery Science Theatre 3000, reading, and playing with his 3 grandchildren. And of course, Writing. His books include such titles as, “He Who Walks the Corridors,” (Wolf on Water pub.), “Trail of Love and Death,”, “Woodview Heights: Legacy of Decadence” Trilogy and “Barnabas Bartholomew and The Undead Freshmen.”
Matthew Lett can be reached via e-mail for comments, feedback, and suggestions at matthew74107@yahoo.com


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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: The Vanishing Castle by Marlena Cannon

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Marlena Cannon
Matthew Lett
Publication date: September 23rd 2025
Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery, Fantasy

A fantasy mystery with hooves and heart.

Simarron isn’t a detective, he’s just a centaur with a clipboard and a nose for trouble. He left his homeland to get a professional job in the city as a magical safety inspector. However, his new life isn’t quite as he imagined it to be and his fellow housemates at Slant Row Boarding House (which is definitely not haunted) are shadier than an enchanted forest.

When a castle disappears and an alchemist ends up dead, Simarron must choose between the cozy, safe rule-bound life he’s always dreamed of and the principles that won’t let him walk away. He is a safety inspector, after all, and the city isn’t safe with a killer on the loose.

A cozy mystery set in a richly imagined gaslamp fantasy world, The Vanishing Castle delights with magical intrigue, a quirky found family, and a centaur sleuth you won’t soon forget.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

So, you want to be a magical safety inspector?

Checking my pocket watch, I scuffed the moisture off my hooves as I entered the brick building. Inside, a framed newspaper article announced the founding of the Magic and Alchemy Safety and Health Administration just ten years ago. But the smell of dust, lamp oil, and crumbling paper told a different story, one far older. I caught a dim reflection of myself in the glass—enough to see that my auburn mane looked presentable—but I smoothed it down anyway while I waited.

My gaze restlessly traveled the shelves containing old books and magical oddities, including a globe of the world adorned with dynamic swirls of clouds that flowed over the model. The morning light streamed in from a pair of narrow, floor-to-ceiling windows, brightening the dark wood and heavy silence of the interior.

I glanced at my pocket watch again—one minute until my appointment. Inconveniently, the desk positioned outside the director’s office was unoccupied. Not a secretary in sight. Oh, no—they didn’t expect me to interview for a secretary position, did they?

An indistinct figure moved beyond the glass-paneled door. I shifted from hoof to hoof. What was I to do in this situation, knock or wait one more minute?

By the time I worked up the nerve to announce my presence, two more minutes ticked by. Dread slid its icy fingers into my chest, warning me that I was now late, and gave me the final push to act.

I reached forward to knock, pausing when I heard footsteps shuffle to a halt on the other side. I backed up awkwardly, my hooves clattering on the wood floor as the door swung outward.

“Hello, you must be Simarron! I’m Ken Moosekind, Executive Director of MASHA,” said a squinty man with a bushy mustache whose robes smelled faintly of tobacco. “Come in, lad, and mind your head.” He retreated behind his cluttered desk.

I ducked my head slightly, entering the office: a place of organized chaos. Books and files sat piled atop cabinets and shelves—even on the floor. Wood scraped on wood as I moved aside a chair and settled down on my haunches opposite the director.

Director Moosekind shifted a stack of papers aside. “So, Simarron, you want to join MASHA as a magical safety inspector, do you?”


Author Bio:

Marlena Cannon grew up reading “The Cat Who…” mysteries by Lilian Jackson Braun and writing stories of her own. She kept writing intermittently over the years, eventually pursuing her dream by completing the DIY MFA program in 2023, where she drafted “The Vanishing Castle,” inspired by one of her childhood projects. She also designed the cover using her background in graphic design. Marlena lives with her husband and their rescue rabbits.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram


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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: The Itch of Greed by Christa Nardi

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The Itch of Greed
Christa Nardi
(Izzie Di Sante Mysteries, #6)
Publication date: September 22nd 2025
Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery

A dark cloud hangs over baseball season in small town Rosedale when star pitcher Randy Kampton is taken out of the game for good.

The DA is determined to pin the crime on Cole Rigley, a friend’s brother and fellow pitcher, citing the fierce competition for a major league trade as his motive for murder. Rigley’s brother, asks Henry and reluctant restaurant owner Izzie Di Sante to help prove his innocence. Adding fuel to the fire, Kampton stole Rigley’s girlfriend months earlier.

While Kampton’s pitching skills are universally acknowledged, no one, not fans or teammates, has a kind word to say about him, making for a long list of suspects. Rigley, on the other hand, is respected for his talent and team spirit. The wild card is another pitcher recovering from a car accident, whose open roster spot has all three men vying for the same prize.

In Rosedale, loyalty to the minor league team runs deep, and Izzie’s digging into the players’ pasts draws resentment from fans, police, and management alike. When the team’s PR person is targeted after meeting with her, the threats become all too real. The closer Izzie gets to uncovering the truth, on and off the field, the higher the stakes, and the more dangerous the game becomes.

Goodreads / Amazon

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CHAPTER 1:

An alert sounded on my phone as I entered Cenare, the Italian restaurant I owned with my sister Chloe. While Chloe was a foodie, I took care of the business side of things. Before our parents died, I freelanced as a journalist following homicides in New York City.

I was committed to the restaurant and Chloe, but my passion was murder, so I kept the homicide alerts coming. Occasionally, if one sparked my interest, I took some time to search out my next story. Homicides provided a rush the restaurant business didn’t give me. I put my things down on the small table in the kitchen area and pulled up the message.

“Breaking news! The Rosedale Thorny Bats will be hurting this season. Their best pitcher, Randy Kampton, died under suspicious circumstances. His body was discovered by the custodians in the Thorny Bats locker room early this morning. Stay tuned for details.”

The announcement prompted me to check my other sources for unsolved homicides, although I’d never heard of the Thorny Bats or Kampton. I assumed if the man was a pitcher, the sport was baseball. It was spring and our guests or employees occasionally mentioned baseball. Growing up, Chloe and I spent most of our time in the restaurant. We lived and breathed Cenare.

My escape was writing. I knew from experience that the death of those close to you changed your life. My stories focused on the impact of a sudden death – usually a homicide – on those left behind. I found less resistance from law enforcement when I focused on cold cases or those that were stalled. Most often, my casual interviews with those who knew the victim provided clues to the killer.

Unfortunately, sometimes the killer targeted me. Having lived in New York City for five years, I was prepared for that, even in small town Pinewood, Maryland, where murders rarely happened. With the first ever murder in our small town a few years back, I clashed with the local police detective when the immediate conclusion was a burglary, and I disagreed. For the record, I was right.

With the murder of an athlete, Kampton’s death would likely be quickly solved if the alert was any indication. Not finding anything else of note in the alerts, I went through my morning routine of checking income, paying bills, placing orders, and taking inventory. At least I used my degree in business management. I preferred taking care of those tedious tasks before anyone else arrived.

As usual, Chloe arrived with a breakfast treat as I finished the accounting and started the inventory.

“Good morning, Chloe. Those look and smell delicious.”

“Thanks, Izzie. Help yourself. I got this idea in my head and combined ingredients from an apple brownie recipe and a cinnamon streusel cupcake. Ryan assured me they were more than edible.” With money from the estate and the restaurant, Chloe had completed her training at the culinary institute nearby. In and out of the restaurant, she often created dishes. Breakfast for me and whomever else wanted a taste tended not to be traditional Italian. For the restaurant, she kept with the family tradition and stuck to Italian dishes.

I chuckled. “I don’t know how you can cook here all day and then try out new things when you get home.”

“Well, Ryan brought some work home that he needed to get done like yesterday. Only he didn’t get the assignment until that morning.” She shrugged. “I got creative in the kitchen while he worked.”

Since she and Ryan married a few months ago, she hadn’t been as creative with her morning treats, though I could always count on her to provide my breakfast. When she took a week off for her honeymoon, I had to fend for myself, usually stopping at the local bakery on my way to work.

“It’s delicious! Not quite brownie and not quite muffin. Still very moist and I’m a sucker for cinnamon and apples. I’ll have to freeze some of these for the next time I see Henry. Now that he’s taken the detective exam and he may be working part time in Franklin, I hope to see him more often.”

Henry and I had started off as friends and our relationship moved forward from there. He was always a willing assistant and backup when I pursued a story. Helping me out prompted him to pursue his private investigator credentials.

“Speak of the devil.” I showed Chloe the phone, took the container of treats, and sat down at the table.

“Hi, Henry. How are you?”

“Good. I may have a case for you and wanted to give you a heads up. Do you have a few minutes?”

I grabbed a piece of paper off the nearby printer. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“You know the guy who always gives me a hard time about driving an automatic or having a family car? Phil Rigley?”

“Dark hair, hazel eyes, not quite as tall as you, and maybe a year or two younger. A southern twang.”

“That’s him. He called this morning, wanting my opinion. His brother, Cole, plays ball with the Thorny Bats. Cole contacted Phil this morning. Something about a player dying and the police interviewing everyone. Phil didn’t have many details, but he wanted me to look into it.”

My phone pinged with an alert. “I caught one announcement earlier and then another just came in. A custodian found Randy Kampton, a pitcher for that team, dead this morning. It was a sports broadcaster the first time, the usual police blotter the second time. Nothing else. Where did the Thorny Bats come from? Is there a new major league team in Maryland?”

“No. The Baltimore Orioles is the only major league team. The Thorny Bats is a triple-A minor league team out in Rosedale. The players are good and some eventually get picked up by a major league team. I played in college and a few of my teammates went on to the minor leagues. We lost touch but I may see if I can locate them.”

“The news I caught indicated a suspicious death. Thorny Bats is a weird name for a team though.”

“Minor league teams often have interesting names, usually related somehow to their location and often suggested by fans. Rosedale, thorns, and baseball bats – Thorny Bats. Makes perfect sense to me.” He chuckled. “Keep me posted. If it’s a homicide, Phil thinks his brother will be a person of interest. Both Cole and Kampton are pitchers, and Kampton stole his girlfriend.”

“Both would give Cole two motives. I’ll call you after lunch with any updates. Katie just walked in. Right now I best finish the inventory and start the lunch prep.”

Katie was a chef-intern from the culinary institute. We’d hired two to help Chloe and relieve her of 12-hour days. A brunette in her mid-twenties, Katie stood a good six inches shorter than my five foot ten, with the figure of someone who competed in gymnastics through high school and still used her gym membership. She added to Chloe’s energy in the kitchen. Chloe hummed and listened to her favorite tunes when not directing Katie. They worked well together and became fast friends.

Jerry, another intern, comes in mid-afternoon, when Katie leaves. Jerry towers over Katie at six foot. Husky, he looks more like a bodyguard than a chef. Before switching careers after twenty years, Jerry worked for stuffed-shirt lawyers as a paralegal. He burned out about the time his mother became ill. He started as a server and moved into the second intern position. Jerry’s personality and age lent itself to being a calming influence in the kitchen.

“Katie, be sure to try Chloe’s latest breakfast treat, but save some for Henry, please.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

Inventory done, I moved to the restaurant side. As I dressed tables, Jennifer, the manager, joined me. She became the manager when the original manager left. A long-term employee since before Chloe and I took over, Jennifer was in her mid-thirties, older than both Chloe and me. She continued in the role of server most often, but also helped with training new servers, and took on hostess responsibilities when I took time off to chase down a story.

As the waitstaff filtered in, I raced upstairs and put on a dress, a throwback to when our parents were alive. Our mother thought it added an element of class and set Cenare apart from fast-food places. As I reentered the kitchen area, I took a deep breath. I might not be a foodie, but the smell of the spices made me smile.

Lunch went smoothly and I fidgeted at the hostess stand. I wanted to check my computer and phone for any updates on the Kampton death. It had been months since a case grabbed my attention. This time, it sounded like Henry and his buddy wanted me involved. I wasn’t too sure how the league, minor or otherwise, would appreciate me asking questions. Sometimes questions uncovered secrets best left untold, at least from their perspective.

Author Bio:

Christa Nardi is an accomplished author of cozy mysteries with an edge – still no graphic violence or sex or profanity, but touching on social issues. Christa’s background is in higher education and psychology, much as her protagonists, Sheridan Hendley in the Cold Creek and Sheridan Hendley mystery, along with Stacie Maroni in the Stacie Maroni mystery series. She has always loved mysteries – reading them, writing them, and solving them. She reviews books on her blog, predominantly cozy mysteries.

Christa is a member of Sisters in Crime and can be found on occasion at Bouchercon, Killer Nashville, or Malice Domestic. She writes four series: Cold Creek Cozy Mysteries, Sheridan Hendley Mysteries, Stacie Maroni Mysteries, and the Izzie Di Sante mysteries. Christa also collaborates with Cassidy Salem in writing the Hannah and Tamar Mysteries, featuring teen sleuth sisters.

When not writing or reading, Christa and her husband enjoy travel, their three grandchildren, and their dogs. Christa supports dog rescue and local shelters.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Instagram


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The Itch of Greed Blitz

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