Monday, February 7, 2022

Not Paid Eleven Cents an Hour to Think Blitz

 

Memoir (Military)

Date Published: January 22, 2022 (Hardcover coming March 2022)

Publisher: Acorn Publishing



Jim Gibson was flying to the other side of the world, barreling toward what he feared could be the end of his life. In 1968, five hundred American soldiers were dying every week in Vietnam. Outfitted in brand new, scratchy, combat jungle fatigues and boots, the twenty-year-old Army Private and trained Combat Medic found himself on a plane to a place he had never been, to fight a war he didn’t believe in. Young men like him were being drafted against their will every day, called into a war that made no sense to them. Vietnam, they thought, was a war orchestrated by relics; old white men and corrupt politicians willing to expend countless lives for personal gain. Still, it was no use to resist. There was nowhere to go, and the FBI made sure there was no place to hide.


About the Author

Jim Gibson was born in Santa Barbara, California in 1948. Growing up he was fascinated by the world around him, a curiosity that drove his love of reading at a young age. He has carried this passion for reading and desire for understanding throughout his whole life. In Not Paid Eleven Cents an Hour to Think, Jim recalls his fourteen months in Vietnam as an Army Medic and ambulance driver. In exploring his past and the lessons he learned, he considers what we must do to carry on. Mr. Gibson, now a happily retired grandfather, occasionally teaches abstract painting and other art classes in his community. He resides in Orange County, California.


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Dawned by Michelle Areaux Virtual Book Tour


Dawned
Michelle Areaux

Genre: Young Adult- Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Book Bliss Publishing
Date of Publication: 2/14/22
ISBN: B09MNPW2TL
Number of pages: 190
Word Count: 48,000

Tagline: Eternity is a powerful tool

Book Description: 

Twilight meets Lucifer in this exciting new paranormal romance.

Everything changed the moment sixteen-year-old Harlow Parker met the mysterious and captivating, Declan Quinn.

Always feeling as though she were destined to live a life of solitude, she never expected to meet someone so--magical. After the tragic death of her parents, she moved in with her godmother, Lorie, in the small, southern Kentucky town of Willow Falls. Nothing exciting ever happened here-- until Declan arrived.

And, once she meets the mysterious and swoon-worthy Declan, everything begins to spiral out of control. The magnetic pull she feels toward him is undeniable, and a gorgeous boy who would ultimately break her heart, was the last thing Harlow needed.

Declan Quinn has spent centuries looking for the one who can unlock his mortality. Despite his attempts to remain hidden in the shadows of the small town, he finds himself drawn to the quiet new girl. Curiosity gets the best of Declan and he soon realizes she may just be the one he has been looking for all along. As sparks begin to flare between the pair, Harlow quickly discovers there is something dangerous and supernatural about the boy she has fallen for. Declan is withholding a dark secret that could destroy Harlow and their relationship.

Desire inevitably overpowers both Harlow and Declan as they find themselves in the middle of a suspenseful supernatural war between good and evil. When both of their pasts come back to haunt them, they must find a way to fight together before they are destroyed forever.


Excerpt:

I stop on the corner, ready to step onto crosswalk when I hear the rumble of a car heading my way. It is then that I decide to look up and away from the scattering of yellow and reds broken at my feet.  

A pearl white sedan whips past me, stirring the leaves and air so that I feel as though I’m suddenly lost inside a tornado of fall.  

The passengers turn to look out their window, probably confused by the strange girl who almost walked out in front of them. Their faces strike me and I forget how to breathe. It’s not because they are unfamiliar—Willow Falls is a small town. When you live here, you know everyone. No, their faces strike me as odd because they are the most beautiful and God-like creatures I have ever seen in my life.  

A pair of ocean blue eyes locks on me and I still, my heart racing like a wild race horse.  They belong to a guy around my age, but his striking features render me helpless. Raven black hair highlights his features as he stares me down. A blonde-haired guy, who is just as handsome, turns from the driver's seat and smiles a wicked smile that causes goose bumps to appear on my arms.


About the Author:

Michelle Areaux resides in a small Kentucky town and enjoys writing tales of romance that includes the bitter and sometimes ugly truth of love, angst, heartache, and desire that all come with falling in love. 








Friday, February 4, 2022

The Prince of Summer Tour and Giveaway

 


The Prince of Summer

The Chronicles of Alcinia Book 5

by Miriam Newman

Genre: Historical Fantasy Romance 

Jossa of Havacia is an outcast--disinherited. But can a man born to be a warrior ever be anything less? From the snow-bound country of his birth to its island fortress and the mystical kingdom of Alcinia, Jossa’s destiny pursues him like the hand of fate in The Prince of Summer.


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A packet ship came in from Alcinia, bearing trade goods and mail to Karlisfyrrd.  Though not a scow, it was not a Royal ship, either.  It merely put up where gulls and terns cruised the waters, looking for anything thrown overboard, paying no attention to the obscure-looking seaman who disembarked.  Sauntering along the dock and up the winding streets, he stopped first at a tavern, curing his thirst.   Anticipating a windfall, he paid for a better meal than he ordinarily would have purchased, but nothing that would linger in anyone’s memory.  One might have wondered why he was not unloading cargo, but that was not his job.

The sentry at the barracks stopped him.  

“Goin’ to the Keep, are ye?” 

“Aye.  Got letters from home to the Alcinic girls workin’ the kitchens.”  He winked at the sentry.  “They’re thankful, by and large.”

The sentry could read, but didn’t bother.  It would have done him no good, since the letter at the bottom was written in a language used by the Holy Sisters of Alcinia and known to very few others.  The King was one of those few.  He had learned it from his mother.

“They’re clean, for the most part,” the sentry confided.  “Ask for Bridie.  She might show ye a good time and, then again, she might not.  Can’t say.  Depends how busy she is.”

“Worth a try,” the seaman said, grinning.  “Thank ye, mate.”

He trudged on up the long road to the Keep, going around to the back entrance as befitted his station.  A gardener tending roses saw him pass and waved in an off-handedly friendly manner, which the seaman returned.  It was nothing unusual to see a man earning a few coppers delivering mail to the common folk.  Anything important came by Royal courier.

Inside, the buxom nursemaid who was the lady’s maid’s cousin greeted him casually, with the King’s son in her arms.  That guaranteed her passage to King Vanus, who was at that moment alone in his library, from which he had a clear view of anyone coming or going.

   “How is my little man?” Vanus greeted the nurse. “You can bring him in.”

He never touched the baby.  Instead, he held out a small silk packet, which he exchanged with her, taking a vellum envelope that she had stuffed in the pocket of her gown, unseen.

“Thank you,” he said, omitting her name because he couldn’t remember it.  All he could recall was that he had given her cousin Merged her job and more than a few silk packets over the years.  

“Yes, Sir.”  She bobbed respectfully and carried the baby back out again, his little legs pressed against her ample belly.  Outside the door, she quickly pocketed her fee, kissing Yuri affectionately.

“Little money maker you are, my lad,” she said.  “Best one I ever ‘ad.”

In his library, King Vanus slit the seal on his letter, withdrawing a square, folded piece of vellum, flattening it out carefully on his desk.  Penned in his sister’s meticulous hand, in language the two of them understood, it told him everything.

It was only what he had expected, yet he sat back with an empty feeling of regret, almost desolation.  Knowing what he had to do did not make it easier.  There was only one person to blame for this, yet it was the one person against whom he could not bring himself to act directly.  What he would do might be even worse.  

There was no fire in his library, so he shredded the note carefully into pieces too fine to ever be mended.  He knew he could never be mended, either—not from this. 

Get the rest of the series here!

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Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at www.miriamnewman.com.


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Thursday, February 3, 2022

Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding by Cynthia Fridsma Virtual Book Tour


Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding
Cynthia Fridsma

Genre: horror/thriller/urban fantasy
Publisher: CynhiaFridsma.COM
Date of Publication: November 24, 2021
ISBN Paperback: 979-8773139225
ISBN Hardcover: 979-8779427166 
ISBN Audiobook: 978-1669614173
ASIN: B09MJXPCMY
Number of pages: 280
Word Count: 67,415
Cover Artist: Cynthia Fridsma

Tagline: Since the pandemic, she stayed home. Then they kidnapped her friend.

Book Description:

Since the pandemic, Sybil Crewes hasn’t left home. She stopped her duties as an ATU agent (Anti-Terrorism Unit). But then, she got a disturbing phone call. Her friend, Harry Brown, has been kidnapped, and this forces Sybil out of her house.

While doing so, she uncovers an illegal lab where they created a deadly COVID-19 variant that turns its victims into skinned zombies. She contacts the ATU to resume her duties as an ATU agent to stop the new threat and save the world from its undoing.

Pandemic: Chaos is Bleeding is a fast-paced modern horror/thriller novel, and partly based on true events.


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Excerpt

The cold air was refreshing as she sprinted to her Ford Mustang in the parking lot. After she sat down in the driver’s seat, she opened Windows Maps on her cell phone to search for the address her evil handler had texted. Since Microsoft stopped supporting Windows Phone, she couldn’t use her voice to enter the address in the navigation app of her cell phone.
It felt weird to go unarmed, on a mission unknown, while the navigation calculated the best route from her current location. Whoever captured Harry held all the cards. At the moment, she had no other choice but to follow up on their instructions. She started the car and drove off. Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic on her way to the mansion.

Since the pandemic, life was slow. People had more time on their hands, working from home, distracted by their kids and spouse. Eating more comfort food—watching TV all day, or in Sybil’s case, spending time with her pet rabbit, Max, and trying to avoid the news. She didn’t have a TV. Well, she did, but she used her 70-inch display as a monitor. It was connected to a Windows 10 laptop with an external soundcard attached to a Dolby digital surround set. Felicity installed the equipment and showed Sybil how to use her dinosaur cell phone as a remote control for the laptop.

The laptop offered her a safe window to the world. She had online meetings once a week, on Sunday night at eight, and sometimes she watched the news on CNN. Most of the time, she used the laptop to binge-watch streaming media. Prime video, Netflix, Disney Plus, and reruns of her favorite TV shows: Body of Proof, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and she loved movies starring Denzel Washington. My life during the pandemic.

She wanted to floor the gas pedal, but then she noticed a police car and she slowed down considerably. The police vehicle turned left at the intersection. She glanced over her shoulder. A truck came into sight, and a few more cars appeared on the street ahead of her. Morning rush hour was about to begin, even though she hadn’t expected it.

Sybil reached her destination in twenty-six minutes after she floored the gas pedal when she reached the outskirts of Boston. She had some time to kill, but she didn’t want to waste it by sitting in her car. So, she explored the area. The mansion didn’t stand out by itself. It was a wooden, two-story building, Victorian architecture style, late 1800s, set in a rural landscape outside Boston, normally a thirty-five-minute drive if she hadn’t gone way above all posted speed limits. Its shingles used to be white at some point.

She exhaled and contacted Vanessa Dogscape—an ATU data analyst, and currently married to her friend and coworker Felicity Walker. Perhaps Vanessa could help her—off the record. She didn’t want to involve the ATU. It took a while before Vanessa answered the phone.

“Sybil. You know what time it is?”

“I’m aware of what time it is. Look, I need your help. Harry’s been kidnapped by—I don’t know who. Anyway, they want me to do some errands.”

“My God!” Vanessa replied in a worried voice.

“I need you on this. But please, keep it off the record. I don’t want to endanger Harry’s life.”

“Sure. How can I help?”

“Perhaps you can pinpoint them somehow and get their location so I can kick some ass?”

“I need more intel before I can do anything,” Vanessa said.

“They contacted me via my cell phone and sent me a text message. Oh, and a picture of Harry’s battered face.” She gritted her teeth at the thought.

“Send the text message and the picture to me. And please activate the ATU app Felicity programmed three years ago for your Windows Phone, so I can tap into each conversation and perhaps ping their location while you talk to them. Are you sure you want me to help you off the record? It’s better to make this an official ATU investigation. At least, let me inform Jack.”

Sybil closed her eyes for a moment. If the criminals found out she had informed the ATU, it’d complicate things. Perhaps endanger Harry’s life. But then again, she sure could use all the help she could get. Otherwise, she wouldn’t bother Vanessa with it. Taking that into consideration, and the knowledge that Jack was a professional, Sybil agreed to Vanessa’s suggestion.

Despite the sun in a clear, blue sky, her body responded with a shiver that ran down her spine. She did not know what to expect as she stood near the abandoned mansion with its weather-beaten, cracked walls covered in pointless graffiti. But she knew she had to go inside as she sat down on her haunches, studying the rusty sword lying in the mud. She took a deep breath before she carefully touched its sticky handle. Blood! Clotted blood.

Her stomach gnawed at the sight. She smelled. It wasn’t human. She stared at the mansion as she heard a strange sound she couldn’t identify. Immediately, her old instincts kicked in—weird sounds coming from an abandoned mansion equals danger. She grabbed the sword in both hands, jumped up, kicked the battered door wide open and ran inside. It was time to act; this was no time to be cautious. Lives were at stake.

The wooden planks creaked under her feet as she rushed into the dark hallway. The sound of rasping breathing reached her eardrums when she entered a dark room with just enough light to see the overturned furniture and the bloodstained, fractured walls …


About the Author:

As far back as she can remember, Cynthia Fridsma has been listening to exciting stories told by her mother. She grew up reading books by Edgar Allan Poe, H. P. Lovecraft, and Philip K. Dick, among others. It was Cynthia’s mother who inspired her to start telling—and writing—her own stories.
Ms. Fridsma’s writing career started after a handicap in 2014—she has a tremor in her right hand, numbness in the fingers, and pain in her wrist. She had to give up her other creative outlets, such as photography, computer programming, and gave up on juggling, so focused on what she could do rather than what she couldn’t do. Besides writing, she sometimes plays guitar—in Jimi Hendrix style.

Cynthia lives with her husband and pet bunny, Max, in Amsterdam.











Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Tripp Unleashed Tour and Giveaway

 


Tripp Unleashed

by Darren Simon

Genre: Middle-Grade Fantasy 

Tripp Taylor is a teenager trying to hide his genetic disorder and live a normal life, but that’s hard to do when the smallest morsel of food and the tiniest sip of liquid bring about a change in him—a metamorphosis he cannot control, making him a danger to himself and those around him. At least that’s what he’s been told by his father and the doctor who has devoted his life to finding a cure.

By day, Tripp plays by their rules. By night, Tripp journeys through the city from one convenience store to the next to taste real food (frozen burritos are his favorite). Then comes the night when he chooses the wrong convenience store, for on that night an armed robber enters the store and threatens everyone’s life. From that first transformation come others, and soon Tripp finds himself on a collision course with destiny as a madman pushes him to use his powers, a government that fears him tries to control him, and dark secrets lead him down a dangerous path—one that could make him a hero or twist him into a monster. And that all depends on whether he survives, and the odds aren’t in his favor.


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A gurgle rose from deep in my stomach. A belch escaped my lips. Everyone could hear. Searing heat spread like lava flowing through my veins into my heart, pumping the molten liquid through my arteries out to my limbs, setting them afire. I hunched over and screamed. The robber took a step toward me. “What the—?” 

I screamed again. My knees buckled. I clutched my stomach. Something grew inside of me, pushing its way out. My body twisted. The woman shrieked. Her eyes bulged in horror at whatever was happening to me. She turned her head away, covering her face with her hands. 

“Holy crap.” The clerk bent over as if to vomit. His chest heaved. Lips parted to let out the spew. 

A muffled cry escaped my throat. God, make it stop! My bones cracked louder. What had I done? What beast had I unleashed? My pain subsided. Gasping for air, I glanced up. 

The woman fell to her knees. The clerk gripped the counter with both hands. His arms trembled. 

The gun-wielding punk slumped against a display of potato chips. His mouth agape in a silent scream. He staggered to his feet, gun aimed at my head. “What are you?” 

“I… I don’t know.” My voice sounded gurgled, like I was speaking underwater. Instead of arms, I had four long green tentacles covered in suction cups. A security mirror on the ceiling revealed the rest of my transformation. Bile rose halfway up my throat. I was going to be sick. 

My hair fell away. Lizard green scales covered my bald head. I no longer had a nose—just two tiny slits. My brown eyes, larger and spread farther apart, glowed yellow. I’d become a walking squid, a new horror even for me.

 A round exploded from the robber’s gun. The bullet pierced one tentacle, plunging deep into my flesh. Blood spewed. The tentacle recoiled from the pain, ten times worse than any wasp sting. I drew shallow, quick breaths through clenched teeth. “Uhhhh!’ 

An animalistic desire for survival took over. I became the prey facing a predator in the ocean deep. I should flee. I didn’t owe the others trapped in the store anything, especially my life. Squids are loners. We save ourselves. 

No, I couldn’t abandon them. I had to become the predator. I launched my tentacle arms at the gunman. Two wrapped around each of his hands. I squeezed until he yelped, dropping the gun. The weapon clattered to the floor. With my other two tentacles, I grabbed his shoulders, then dragged him closer. 

Darren Simon, who is a longtime college English teacher and former newspaper journalist, is the author of five middle-grade/young adult fantasy, urban fantasy and historical fantasy books and two horror short stories published in anthologies. He writes for younger readers to inspire them as readers the way he was inspired as a youth first by the comic books he read, then the Choose Your Own Adventure books, and then the fantasy and science fiction novels that became so important to him—and still are. He lives in California’s desert Southwest with his family, including his wife, two sons and two crazy dogs.


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The Cross of Ciaran by Andrea Matthews Virtual Book Tour



The Cross of Ciaran
The Cross of Ciaran Series 
Book One
Andrea Matthews

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Inez M. Foster  
Date of Publication: June 18, 2020
ISBN:  978-1-7333375-1-9
ASIN:  B08BJ1QRGM
Number of pages: 362
Cover Artist: Jenny Quinlan 

Tagline:  Can a fifth century pagan priest find love with a twentieth century archaeologist or will his secrets shatter their future together?

Book Description: 

When a fifth century pagan priest is unearthed in Ireland fifteen hundred years after being entombed, archaeologist Caitlin O’Connell is convinced it’s the find of the century. The body is in perfect condition, right down to the intricate tattoos adorning the Celt’s skin. In fact, if scientific data hadn’t proved otherwise, she would swear he hadn’t been interred more than a few hours.

Eager to discover more about the mysterious Celt, Caitlin accompanies the body back to the New York museum where she’s employed, but before she has time to study him, the priest disappears without a trace. Rumors surrounding the event begin to circulate and result in the excavation’s benefactor pulling the plug on the entire expedition.

The rumors are not far off the mark though. After being buried alive for betraying his goddess and his priesthood in the dawning age of Christianity, Ciarán wakes to a strange new world. Alone and frightened in an unforgiving city, he stumbles upon the only thing familiar to him and seeks sanctuary within the church walls. With the help of the parish’s pastor, Father Mike, Ciarán slowly grows accustomed to his surroundings, though he’s plagued by dark dreams and the disturbing sensation that an evil from his past has followed him into the future. But a more immediate danger lurks on his doorstep.

Caitlin is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery concerning her missing Celt, and when she meets her Uncle Mike’s new handyman, Ciarán Donnelly, she’s convinced the handsome Irishman knows more about the theft than he’s letting on. Yet, even she can’t deny the attraction between them, simmering below the surface and blurring the lines between her personal and professional life. But will Ciarán’s secrets draw them together or shatter their future forever?


Excerpt:

 Ciarán stumbled along beneath the twisted canopy of blackthorn shrubs, their prickly branches entwining with those of the hawthorn to form a mystical passageway. Though only a dim grey light pierced its knotwork, intermittent flashes of lightning broke through the tangled vines to sketch eerie patterns across the moss-covered path. His robe caught on the spiny bramble, and he stopped for a moment to free his sleeve, but a sharp shove from behind thrust him forward once more, the sudden movement ripping a jagged hole in his fine linen robe.

His temper flared, and he turned to object, though it did no good. Another quick jab to his shoulder spun him back around and thrust him out into the lakeside clearing. Slender stone columns stood in a semi-circle around its perimeter, each one facing the sacrificial altar. He rested his hand against the one to his side, steadying himself as the reality of the situation washed over him in a wave of nausea. There would be no escape.    

As if in agreement, a bolt of lightning ripped across the horizon, followed by a crash of thunder so loud it caused the breath to catch in his throat. The goddess was angry.  

Out of nowhere, thick grey clouds had formed to conceal the morning sun and cast ominous shadows over the secluded enclosure. The urge to fall prostrate before his goddess mother gripped his innards, tearing at his stomach with a fiery knife, but he could not find it within his heart to do so. A black-robed cleric propelled him further into the temple confines, forcing him to his knees beside another of the slender gray columns. The decision to kneel had been made for him, though it was an empty gesture on his part.

Trying to retain his composure, he gazed around the quiet glade. Towering thorn bushes encircled the clearing, concealing the sanctuary from the outside world and providing a perfect setting for worshipping the goddess of their tuath. The bile rose in his throat, for he knew the requirements for admission all too well. Entry to its sacred confines was only granted to those within the priesthood and those about to die.  

About the Author:

Andrea Matthews is the pseudonym for Inez Foster, a historian and librarian who loves to read and write and search around for her roots, genealogical speaking. She has a BA in History, an MLS in Library Science, and enjoys the research almost as much as she does writing the story. In fact, many of her ideas come to her while doing casual research or digging into her family history. She is the author of the Thunder on the Moor series set on the 16th century Anglo-Scottish Border, and the Cross of Ciaran series, where a fifteen-hundred-year old Celt finds himself in the twentieth century. Andrea is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Long Island Romance Writers, and the Historical Novel Society.












Tuesday, February 1, 2022

TALK OF TOKYO Book Blast



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Heather Hallman will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

CAREFUL WITH YOUR WORDS

1897 Tokyo is no different than anywhere else in the world: men are exploiting women. Specifically, Western men are exploiting Japanese women, and Suki Malveaux holds no punches in her condemnation of their behavior in her weekly column in the Tokyo Daily News.

Suki knows firsthand when Western men arrive at Tokyo Bay there’s only one outcome for Japanese women: a child and new mother left behind as nothing more than discarded shrapnel from the heartless war on love.

Griffith Spenser is her latest target. He’s been seen with Natsu Watanabe, one of Tokyo’s esteemed war widows. Under full anonymity of the moniker “The Tokyo Tattler,” Suki makes sure Griffith knows exactly why his behavior with Natsu won’t be tolerated.

Away from her Japanese mask as a columnist, Suki never intended to meet the cad. When he seeks her out to hire as a tutor for his niece and nephew, she’s faced with seeing him day in and day out without him ever knowing who she really is.

Caught in her struggle for anonymity so she can keep battling for women’s rights, Suki’s about to learn the full impact of her words on the people behind the story, especially on Griff.

Read an Excerpt

Tokyo 1897

Foreign Quarter of Tsukiji

Fluttering her eyelashes in a coquettish manner, which had much in common with trying to dislodge a flying insect, Suki faced the man who held her fate in the palm of his rather well-shaped hands. “I was admiring your fine home.”

“I quite like it myself.”

“Was it constructed after the quake of ’94?”

“We commissioned its construction when we arrived in ’95. I’m assured by its builders it could withstand another earthquake of that intensity. Japanese-style homes fare better than brick and stone.”

“Mother Nature has given us many opportunities to rebuild.”

“Mother Nature?” Spenser furrowed his brow. “I thought it was the giant catfish residing under Japan flipping its tail that caused all these earthquakes.” His tone was teasing, while the observation revealed Spenser as the type of foreigner who bothered learning about traditional culture.

“You know your Japanese folklore,” Suki replied.

“I like to be prepared for all the dragons and ghosts I’m certain to encounter,” Spenser said with a smile that brought out creases along his soft brown eyes. “I should introduce myself, although introductions are probably unnecessary. I’m Griffith Spenser, arrived from England, resident of Tsukiji for almost two years.”

Suki mentally added to the introduction: Spenser counted minor members of the British aristocracy among his family, although he himself had no chance of inheriting a title; his company was the most highly regarded foreign-owned trading firm in Tokyo; he’d arrived with a new bride who left him a year later; and he now graced the bed of war widow Natsu Watanabe. Also, he played lawn tennis.

The Tokyo Tattler’s job was to know these facts about Tsukiji’s most illustrious residents, and Suki needed to continue doing this job, which was why she couldn’t let Spenser’s allure compromise her defenses. The man had asked her to his home without explanation. Although she’d like to imagine he’d summoned her to discuss the modern significance of Japanese mythology, she was a realist. Spenser had a score to settle with the Tokyo Tattler, and all this pleasant banter about earthquakes was merely diversion.

About the Author:
Heather Hallman writes witty, sensual, contest-winning romances set in Meiji-era Japan (1868-1912). She is the author of the Tokyo Whispers series that includes Scandals of Tokyo and Talk of Tokyo.

She is fluent in Japanese language, history, and culture, and earned a doctoral degree in cultural anthropology based on fieldwork research in Japan. She lives in Tokyo with her professor husband and two young daughters. In her free time, she can be found translating ancient Japanese poetry and observing the passing of seasons while sipping green tea. Just kidding, she has no free time. But she does watch something that makes her laugh while she does the dishes.

Perennial obsessions include the weather forecast (she checks three different apps at least three times a day, as no single app can be trusted), Baltimore Ravens football (hometown obsession), and making smoothies that taste like candy bars.

Feel free to chat her up about any of her obsessions, or, even better, about historical Japan—any era is fine, she loves them all. She also enjoys exchanging book recommendations, discussions about the craft of romance writing, and stories about life in present-day Tokyo.

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Memories of MK-Ultra Virtual Book Tour

  Coming of Age / Psychological /Historical Thriller / Metaphysical     Memories of MK-ULTRA traces the development of three s...