Sunday, May 22, 2016

Now on Tour - Ghost Walking by Ally Shields

Review Tour for the first book in Ally Shields' new Urban Fantasy series, Ghost Walking kicks off today! Following along and check out all the reviews, and make sure you enter the giveaway!

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May 23rd
CD Yess Writes
Review

May 24th
Natural Bri
T: @natural_bri
Review

May 25th
Reading, Writing and Whatnot
Review

May 26th
Raquel Gabrielle’s Blog
Review

May 30th
The Recipe Fairy
Review

June 3rd
Apocalipstick the Book
Review

Book Description:

Not believing won't make the ghosts go away.

New Orleans' homicide cop Maggie York is at the top of her game until a sniper's bullet changes everything. She flatlines, comes back. But not quite the same. She sees and hears things...ghostly things. And she blurts out enough to her doctors to end up on medical leave with a diagnosis of PTSD. If only.

Six months later, the voices have faded and the ghostly sightings are less frequent. The department still won't let Maggie return to the job. Oh, she's quit talking about ghosts, except to a few friends and the loony relatives who believe she's a witch, but Maggie doubts herself. Since inactivity is making it worse, she sets out to track down her shooter, only things get complicated...a ghostly witness wants his own murder solved, and sexy homicide cop, Josh Brandt—who just happens to be her replacement—wants her to butt out of his case.

After Josh catches her at the murder scene of a key witness, he wonders how the attractive redhead is staying one step ahead of him and how deeply her involvement goes. She doesn't appear as unstable as he's been told, but she's hiding something. He recognizes the signs...because he has secrets of his own. Unraveling her case soon draws them down twisted but intersecting paths.

And failure may cost Maggie her life.

Excerpt:

Maggie’s gaze sharpened as the old crime scene routine fell into place. Discarded clothing near an old washing machine, empty beer cans. Hurst and his girlfriend hadn’t been especially tidy, but she’d seen worse. The kitchen was clutter-free except for an empty pizza box on the counter. Large. Smelled like pepperoni. The fridge contained three takeout cartons of leftovers—gumbo, red beans, something indefinable—a quart of milk, half used, and three beer cans in the plastic holder from a six-pack. Apparently no one cooked.

She entered the hallway. A check of the guest bedroom and a glance in the living room yielded nothing unusual, only the expected drawer or cushion out of place due to the police search.

She’d left the main bedroom for last.

The bodies were gone and the bed stripped. She knelt to look under the bed, but anything on the floor and nightstand had been bagged and removed to the lab. Otherwise, it was much as she remembered. Ten by ten, holding a full-size bed and one dresser. She moved across the room to check the closet…and heard a floorboard creak in the hallway.

Maggie froze, her heart hammering. Someone was in the house. She hadn’t been particularly silent, so they must know she was there. Why so quiet? She glided back to the door, the SIG Sauer already in her hand. When the hardwood floor emitted a second small sound, she whipped around the corner, pointing her gun at the intruder.

And faced the deadly end of a Beretta, held by a tall man with compelling, steel-blue eyes. The air vibrated with energy…and for one long moment, they stared at one another.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Police. And you?” The voice was cool, richly masculine.

She took in the dark blue jacket over a white shirt open at the collar, a loose tie slightly askew, and his black hair just long enough that an unruly strand curled over his forehead.

“Show me your badge.” She was stalling for time. Maggie didn’t doubt the confident, intense man on the other end of the gun was a cop. A very good-looking cop who wasn’t the least bit happy to find her there. How could she explain her presence?

He flipped open his jacket with one hand, revealing the badge clipped to his belt. “Detective Brandt. Now put down your gun and back away from it.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but the or else was loud and clear. She nodded, slipped the safety on, and set the weapon on the floor, keeping her hands where he could see them.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked.

She figured he’d soon find out anyway, so she told him the truth—albeit a limited version. “Assessing the murder scene. The male victim was involved in my own shooting.”

The cop’s eyes narrowed, but the gun didn’t waver. “Should I know you?”

She shrugged. “I’m Maggie York.”

Bio:

Ally Shields is a Midwestern writer with a love for mystery and the paranormal. Following a career in law and juvenile justice, she took up full-time writing in 2009. In 2012 her first paranormal was published, and she has two completed urban fantasy series. Ally loves to travel and includes many of those settings in her novels. Readers are welcome—and encouraged—to contact her through her website or track her down on Twitter. (@ShieldsAlly).

Author Links


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Sunday, May 1, 2016

Ghost Walking Release Blitz

New release alert! GHOST WALKING by Ally Shields is available now! Ally is the author of fantastic urban fantasy series, the Guardian Witch Series, The Elvenrude Trilogy, and now the first Maggie York Paranormal Mystery - Ghost Walking. Make sure you check this one out! And don't forget to enter the giveaway below.

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CD Yess Writes

Natural Bri
T: @natural_bri

The Recipe Fairy

Hollow Unrest

Apocalipstick The Book

Raquel Gabrielle’s Blog

Reading, Writing and Whatnot

Books are Love

Teatime and Books


Book Description:

Not believing won't make the ghosts go away.

New Orleans' homicide cop Maggie York is at the top of her game until a sniper's bullet changes everything. She flatlines, comes back. But not quite the same. She sees and hears things...ghostly things. And she blurts out enough to her doctors to end up on medical leave with a diagnosis of PTSD. If only.

Six months later, the voices have faded and the ghostly sightings are less frequent. The department still won't let Maggie return to the job. Oh, she's quit talking about ghosts, except to a few friends and the loony relatives who believe she's a witch, but Maggie doubts herself. Since inactivity is making it worse, she sets out to track down her shooter, only things get complicated...a ghostly witness wants his own murder solved, and sexy homicide cop, Josh Brandt—who just happens to be her replacement—wants her to butt out of his case.

After Josh catches her at the murder scene of a key witness, he wonders how the attractive redhead is staying one step ahead of him and how deeply her involvement goes. She doesn't appear as unstable as he's been told, but she's hiding something. He recognizes the signs...because he has secrets of his own. Unraveling her case soon draws them down twisted but intersecting paths.

And failure may cost Maggie her life.

Excerpt:

Maggie’s gaze sharpened as the old crime scene routine fell into place. Discarded clothing near an old washing machine, empty beer cans. Hurst and his girlfriend hadn’t been especially tidy, but she’d seen worse. The kitchen was clutter-free except for an empty pizza box on the counter. Large. Smelled like pepperoni. The fridge contained three takeout cartons of leftovers—gumbo, red beans, something indefinable—a quart of milk, half used, and three beer cans in the plastic holder from a six-pack. Apparently no one cooked.

She entered the hallway. A check of the guest bedroom and a glance in the living room yielded nothing unusual, only the expected drawer or cushion out of place due to the police search.

She’d left the main bedroom for last.

The bodies were gone and the bed stripped. She knelt to look under the bed, but anything on the floor and nightstand had been bagged and removed to the lab. Otherwise, it was much as she remembered. Ten by ten, holding a full-size bed and one dresser. She moved across the room to check the closet…and heard a floorboard creak in the hallway.

Maggie froze, her heart hammering. Someone was in the house. She hadn’t been particularly silent, so they must know she was there. Why so quiet? She glided back to the door, the SIG Sauer already in her hand. When the hardwood floor emitted a second small sound, she whipped around the corner, pointing her gun at the intruder.

And faced the deadly end of a Beretta, held by a tall man with compelling, steel-blue eyes. The air vibrated with energy…and for one long moment, they stared at one another.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Police. And you?” The voice was cool, richly masculine.

She took in the dark blue jacket over a white shirt open at the collar, a loose tie slightly askew, and his black hair just long enough that an unruly strand curled over his forehead.

“Show me your badge.” She was stalling for time. Maggie didn’t doubt the confident, intense man on the other end of the gun was a cop. A very good-looking cop who wasn’t the least bit happy to find her there. How could she explain her presence?

He flipped open his jacket with one hand, revealing the badge clipped to his belt. “Detective Brandt. Now put down your gun and back away from it.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but the or else was loud and clear. She nodded, slipped the safety on, and set the weapon on the floor, keeping her hands where he could see them.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked.

She figured he’d soon find out anyway, so she told him the truth—albeit a limited version. “Assessing the murder scene. The male victim was involved in my own shooting.”

The cop’s eyes narrowed, but the gun didn’t waver. “Should I know you?”

She shrugged. “I’m Maggie York.”

Bio:

Ally Shields is a Midwestern writer with a love for mystery and the paranormal. Following a career in law and juvenile justice, she took up full-time writing in 2009. In 2012 her first paranormal was published, and she has two completed urban fantasy series. Ally loves to travel and includes many of those settings in her novels. Readers are welcome—and encouraged—to contact her through her website or track her down on Twitter. (@ShieldsAlly).

Author Links

Buy Links

Now on Tour Invisible by Jeanne Bannon

One Week Tour for Invisible by Jeanne Bannon kicks off this week! Check out the schedule and make sure you enter the giveaway. Invisible is on sale for only $1.99 so make sure you grab this thrilling read!

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May 2nd
CBY Book Club
Spotlight

May 3rd
Eager Reader
Review

Valkyrie Fatality
Review

May 4th
CD Yess Writes
Spotlight

May 5th
The Indigo Quill
Spotlight

May 6th
Kelly Smith Reviews
Review

Books are Love
Review



Description:

Lola’s not pretty. Lola’s not popular. Lola wishes she could disappear … and then one day she does just that...

For seventeen-year-old Lola Savullo, life is a struggle. Born to funky parents who are more in than she could ever be, Lola’s dream of becoming a writer makes her an outsider even in her own home. Bullied and despised, Lola still has the support of her best pal Charlie and Grandma Rose.

Not only is she freakishly tall, Lola’s a big girl and when forced to wear a bathing suit at her summer job as a camp counselor, Lola’s only escape from deep embarrassment seems to be to literally vanish. Soon after, she discovers the roots of her new “ability”.

Slowly, with Charlie’s help, Lola learns to control the new super power. The possibilities are endless. Yet power can be abused, too…

When tragedy strikes, Lola must summon her inner strength, both at home and at school. She has to stand up for herself, despite the temptations and possibilities of her newfound super power.

A coming-of-age story that will warm the heart.

Excerpt:

“Lola, get your suit on and help supervise the pool. The more eyes the better,” Justine, the athletic, sun-kissed, twenty-one-year-old camp director ordered once we wrangled our none-too-obedient charges off the bus. The gaggle of four to eight year olds ran around in a loud, unruly horde as soon as their sneakered feet hit the parking lot pavement. Counselors soon managed some semblance of organization. Calls for straight lines and, “Hey, get back here,” reached my ears.

Luckily, my group was well behaved, perhaps because I had the fewest kids—only six of them and most, thank God, were girls.

“Lola?” Justine was beside me, glaring. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Without looking at her, I shook my head no. But I had heard her, loud and clear, except I wanted desperately to push her words away, hoping she’d recant and it would be business as usual.

“Get. Your. Suit. On,” she said again and this time, my heart took off in a sprint.

“What? Why?” I tried to hide the wobble in my voice. It was my job to watch the kids who weren’t swimming—the ones who’d left their suits at home or didn’t feel well.

Curious, expectant gazes turned to my way as fellow counselors waited with evil half-grins, for my reaction. Although no one, except my best friend Charlie, knew how I felt about wearing a bathing suit, I realized my co-workers had to be aware of my private horror, because it was the horror of every fat girl.

Justine sighed as she flipped through the sheets on her clipboard, running a finger down the column of names. “No campers are sitting out today, Lola, so you have to help supervise the pool.”

The impossible had just happened. In my three summers as a counselor, there had always been at least one measly kid who didn’t swim on pool day.

For one long, awkward moment, I stood frozen in place. How could I get out of this? A sudden migraine? My period? I tried to speak, but nothing came out except a tiny, almost inaudible, moan.

Justine rolled her eyes and walked away, taking my chance for escape with her. I searched through my bag for my black one-piece, barely able to see a thing through my tear-blurred eyes. Somehow, I managed to stuff away the panic and gather the nerve to march past my co-workers, who I’d never thought of as friends, despite working with them summer after summer.

Finally, in the dank change room, I entered an empty stall and locked the door with shaky fingers. I was sweating from both the heat and anxiety. The stench of my panic filled my nostrils as I felt around in my bag for a stick of deodorant, though I knew full well, I wouldn’t find one. With a sigh, I stretched my suit over sweat-slicked skin, wriggling and struggling to pull it up past wide hips and a bulging belly.

A moan escaped me. Not only was I fat, I was freakishly tall. God only knew why, since Mom was petite and Dad was on the short side. My older sister, Eva, was the spitting image of Mom, fair and fine boned. Apparently, I took after Dad’s side—bulky, dark, and thick. I must have gotten some of Uncle Sammy’s genes, the giant of the family, who topped out at six foot five.

I peered down at the coarse dark hair creeping up my calves to just past my knees, where it gradually petered out. My insides dropped as if I’d placed a foot on a step that wasn’t there. I ran a hand across the tops of my thighs. The triple bulge of my belly prevented a good look at what my hand told me was a sorely neglected bikini area. There had never been a reason to shave. Even in the blazing August heat, I wore baggy cotton Capri pants, never exposing more than an ankle.

My throat pulsed with an ache to cry and my eyes misted again. I swallowed my distress and pinched away tears. It would be torturous enough to step out of the change room looking like this, but I wouldn’t give the other counselors the satisfaction of watching me have a meltdown. I lifted my chin in resolve and opened the door. As I peeked out, I spied a line of girls jumping with excitement and a few harried counselors corralling them to the exit.

Bio:

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Jeanne Bannon has worked in the publishing industry for over twenty years, first as a freelance journalist, then as an in-house editor for LexisNexis Canada. She currently works as a freelance editor and writer.

When not reading or writing, Jeanne enjoys spending time with her daughters, Nina and Sara and her husband, David. She’s also the proud mother of two fur babies, a cuddly and affectionate Boston Terrier named Lila and Spencer, a rambunctious tabby, who can be a very bad boy.


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