Monday, 30 July 2018

The Pious Insurrection



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Dark Fantasy
Date Published: July 1, 2018
Publisher: Lulu Publishing

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A grim, sword & sorcery tale with monsters, magic, religion, and war.

This is how the world ends:

The innocent kill. Those killers lead. That is the nature of war, which ravages the province of Evigönda.

For a breath, there is peace, but the gods' demands pull at thestrings. Amos is a mystic who guards Bo, a seer who sacrificed herphysical sight to see spirits. Together, they must use her judgment toharvest souls for the Reaping, a sacred mission and necessary evil tomaintain the safety of their homeland.

Every move they make throws the world into further chaos, and when a scarred veteran makes it his mission to stop the Reaping so he can save his own struggling nation, the body count rises.

Shady allies and passionate enemies challenge the morals of piety and righteousness in this gripping fantasy tale.

Unlike fantasy epics that bring all new races such as orcs, elves, and dwarves in the style of Tolkien, or Paolini's Inheritance Cycle, The Reaping is dark fantasy that brings as much diversity from its all-human cast. From the Ashborn--the technologically-savvy steampunk mountain rangers of Borensati--to the Templars, disciplined, systematic warrior women who harvest the powers of the Sun and the earth to turn their weapons into medieval lightsabers, the cast of The Reaping pulls readers into a warbound, thought-provoking fantasy adventure.




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Excerpt



“Don’t open your eyes,” Harken coughed. “Play dead. Lie there. Please.”

Lancaster couldn’t obey. He opened his eyes and stared as Harken struggled to his feet. He barely recognized his brother: blood poured from his shoulder, where a large bolt had found its mark. A blow Harken had taken to the face left him with a shattered cheek, and blood matted his hair. Stumbling, Harken sank to his knees next to Lancaster.

Lancaster tried to hide, but his own injuries restricted him. His left arm was bent in a way it shouldn’t be. His shattered knee throbbed, and blood trickled from his numb right wrist. He couldn’t move at all, especially when Harken heaved the corpse of their fallen fellow Nazarian onto him.

Footfalls approached, and as shadows flickered, Harken reached for his broken lance. He propped himself up on it and peered into the faces of the approaching figures.

“Commander, another survivor. This one has enough strength to stand,” a Seladorian woman announced, sword drawn. She pointed her blade at Harken’s throat.

Harken didn’t budge.

Another woman approached. Blood leaked down into Lancaster’s eyes, but he could see her legs. Padded black cloth covered her lower body—a far cry from the heavy metal armor most Seladorian warriors wore.

“You…” Harken started. “You’re not with the Templars. You must be the Hand.”

“That is correct, young man. While the Templars meet danger where danger presents itself, the Sisters of the Hand strike danger where it is vulnerable, and I—the Hand of the Goddess—have found the weakest link in Nazarelle’s armor.” Her voice was honeyed, not the tone one would expect from a vicious killer.

Harken coughed, blood seeping from his mouth. “Ambush from the mountains… smart.”

“If you knew anything of battlefield tactics, you would have seen this coming,” the Hand retorted.

Harken shook his head. “I’m just a soldier with a team of trainees. We weren’t meant for this. We shouldn’t die like this.”

“So it is mercy you want?” The Hand circled Harken for a moment, prodding the body that covered Lancaster with her foot.

Lancaster held his breath, eyes squeezed shut as his heart raced.

“I never asked for this. We’re just conscripts,” Harken pleaded.

“And yet… this is a battle your king chose. Your army attacked ours, and because of this, two thousand of my sisters have fallen in the past centenox. I would spare you no mercy, nor would I spare you any pity, because they all would still live”—the Hand grabbed Harken by his throat—“if not for the greed of your king.”

Harken dropped the lance as he pulled against her tight grip, but his wounds were too great. He didn’t have the strength to break free.

Eyes still closed, Lancaster listened to his brother die. As his body hit the ground with a loud thud, the door opened.

“It’s time.”


About the Author

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Dexter Morgenstern is a Southern-born Seattle author and model. Homeschooled after a diagnosis of mild Asperger's, he learned to play to his strengths as an energetic, creative artist. He began writing at the age of fifteen, and published his first novel two years later. Outside of art, Dexter spends his time gaming, studying, and socializing with other ambitious minds. As an army brat, he attained a pragmatic sense of discipline that he uses to balance his artistic endeavors with his academic ones. Dexter's ultimate goal is to contribute to the subjugation of humanity by artificial intelligence.



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Wednesday, 11 July 2018

All of My Heart


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Contemporary Romance
Date Published:10-3-2017
Publisher: Sand Dune Books (indie published)'

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When Suzie Hart inherited the lakeside Victorian cottage that would soon become Sweet Hart Inn, she imagined her life all planned out ahead of her. She would run the inn, write her recipes, and pick up an occasional catering job with her cousin Sydney. What she didn't plan on was Brad Matthews.

Suzie Hart has it all. A beautiful home, friends and family, and the sweetest job in the world. She's the best darned cook in Harbor Falls, North Carolina, and has the street cred to prove it. She runs her own bed and breakfast, writes a food blog, and is working on her first cookbook.

Life is perfect. Right?

Wrong. You see, Suzie has a secret. And when that secret rides up to her doorstep on a bad-ass Harley and tosses her not-so-perfect little world into some kind of big, bad tumble, happy-go-lucky Suzie panics.

Brad Matthews doesn't have a secret, he has a plan--and that plan includes luring Suzie back into his life. When she worked as his sous chef in Asheville, he had no intention of falling in love with the sassy chef, or any woman for that matter. No room in his life for romance. But when Suzie disappeared and took Brad's heart with her, his good intentions shattered. Now that he's found her again, he's not about to let her alter the new path he's set out for his life--and hers.


Excerpt

Suzie hoisted the second twenty-five pound bag of mulch from her wheelbarrow to the ground with a grunt, dropping it next to the stone foundation of her house. There. Ready for her to spread in the morning. The hostas were planted and weeds wouldn’t grow overnight so she’d just make this her Sunday morning chore—after breakfast, that is. She was pooped. Long day. She was now ready for a bubble-bath and that glass of wine.

Standing up straight, she swiped the back of her gloved hand over her forehead. Glancing, toward the west, she watched the sun settle over the mountain, shadowing downtown Harbor Falls a half mile or so in the distance. She loved living on the edge of town, right on the lake. She liked being just so far removed from Harbor Falls’ daily hustle and bustle. If you could call it that. Downtown Harbor Falls boasted of a business district, but nothing compared to the likes of nearby Asheville or other vacation and shopping hot-spots of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

But Harbor Falls was Harbor Falls, small town at its best. No big box stores. No strip malls. Just a busy little downtown. And they liked it, just the way it was.

Life and business, and living in her new-to-her home, were good. She marveled every single day how she’d acquired the quaint Victorian cottage. It was a dream come true. Her aunt’s passing had been unexpected and the fact that she’d left the home to Suzie was even more so. Her father’s oldest sister was the maiden aunt everyone adored, and Suzie missed her terribly. She vowed she would never take owning the home for granted and would always honor her aunt in the highest regard by keeping the home full of love and laughter and children. Aunt Donna so loved children. Since Suzie was the oldest of all of the cousins, her Aunt had doted on her more than the others, and had encouraged her to chase her dreams. Still, she never expected that her aunt would leave the beautiful storybook home to her.

Every day Suzie sent up a prayer of thanks to a higher power who might have assisted in helping move her dream forward.

Sweet Hart Inn was hers. She’d worked hard to convert Aunt Donna’s home into a working bed and breakfast inn, and to renovate the kitchen for her cooking classes and catering. It was also the perfect place to work on her cookbook and write her blog.

Cliff had dumped her, yes. And her sister had done something unthinkable, yes. But secretly she thanked the two of them and held no grudges, because their decisions had forced her hand. When that happened, and when the home was literally dropped into her lap, she’d left the past behind and started making plans on how live her future.

Sweet Hart Inn was the rest of her life. She intended to stay here, run this little bed and breakfast, and do her cooking and writing thing for years to come.

Her gaze spanned the horizon and then settled on the lake. Smiling, she rubbed her hands together to rid them of some dirt and then wiped them on the thighs of her jeans. As dusk settled in, all she wanted was a quiet walk down to the lake for a few moments of silence. Then that long, hot soak in the tub.

With her first few steps, the rumble of a surly engine grew louder down the road, forcing her to turn back. A large motorcycle—one of those bad-boy types—and its rider leaned into the turn and then smoothly made way up the curvy drive to her home. She liked how the bike thundered into her peaceful existence and she wasn’t quite sure why. It was both unexpected and welcome, and that really made no sense at all. Perhaps it provided an edge to the night, a hint of excitement the inn normally didn’t lend at this time of evening.

The rider stopped the bike and abruptly cut off the engine.

Suzie stood spellbound staring at the man and motorcycle. He wore black from head to toe—helmet, leather jacket, hip-hugging tight jeans, and boots. Yes. Bad boy. The man stood silent and unmoving, staring back at her.

She’d expected a guest this evening, a Mr. Logan, and supposed this man could be him. He hadn’t said anything about arriving on a bike—not that her guests were in the habit of indicating the type of transportation they would use to get to the inn.

She stepped forward, again wiping her dirty hands on her pants, silently wishing she’d ended her planting early and showered. She reached out, ready to shake his hand and welcome him and—

Her breath caught in her throat.

The man dismounted, stood straight up, and slipped off his helmet. The steady gaze that met hers and held while he shifted the helmet to his left hip and ran five fingers through his ruffled, curly brown hair, startled her.

Her heart jack-knifed.

An icy panic shot up Suzie’s back and she sucked in a breath and held it. A buzzing noise filled her ears, like a thousand people talking to her all at once. She’d know that finger-rake mannerism anywhere.

Her head spun and Suzie felt herself go a little light-headed.

****

Brad caught Suzie’s gaze and then watched her body literally fold into itself and fall to the ground. “Shit!” He rushed forward to grab her about the time her temple connected with a rock at the edge of a flower bed. “Suzie!”

His chest pounded. He pulled her onto his lap, fear shaking his arms. “Suzie, darling, hell. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. Wake up sweetheart.” He caressed her face and cooed soothing words.

Inside he was mortified that he’d caused her to fall and had hurt her.

She moaned and shifted, pushing her palms into his chest. “Wha…” The half-word fell out of her mouth on a breath. “What are…”

“Sh, darling. Oh, Suzette.” Brad glanced about. Where to take her? Inside? To the hospital? He glanced about and noticed a small SUV parked near a back entrance. He supposed it was hers. Were her keys inside? Obviously he couldn’t take her to the hospital on his bike.

Should he call 9-1-1?

“We need to get you somewhere. Have that bump looked at.”

Suzie shifted and huffed out a quick breath. “No, Brad, no…” Then she slumped into his arms again.



About the Author

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Sophie Jacobs writes to silence the people in her head, and she needs two pen names to get the stories down! (If only cloning were so easy.) Whether writing contemporary romance or women’s fiction, she strives to get their stories told. Writing as Maddie James, she pens romance genre fiction from cowboys to suspense. RT Book Reviews says, James “deftly combines romance and suspense,” and Affaire de Couer claims she “has a special talent for traditional romance.” Published in print, ebook, audiobook, and in at least seven languages, Maddie has been listed as a Top 100 Romance Author on Amazon and as an iBooks Rising Star in Western Romance.


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Tuesday, 10 July 2018

Wherever Love Finds You


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Contemporary Romance
Date Published: 6/26/18

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It’s his game. He makes the rules. Rule number one – only he can break the rules.


Zach Lowe lives his life without relationships in business and personally. Getting involved doesn’t work well when you’re the Black Knight of Wall Street.

Ellora Duvall, the sweet kid who crushed on him in high school, waltzes into the world of corporate finance with the same wide eyed innocence she had in chemistry class. He hadn’t expected her to affect him the way she did, but he’s in control. A few weeks with Ellora will be pure pleasure, then he’ll move on. She’ll understand. He should, too.

Who broke his rules?

Wherever Love Finds You is the 1st book in the Beaumont Brides Series.



 Excerpt


Chapter One

Ellora Duvall picked up her morning latte with an extra shot of espresso and merged into the throng of Wall Street suits packing the sidewalk. She dodged a gang of skateboarders and inhaled the exhaust-filled air as if it were the fresh Colorado mountain breeze she’d breathed since childhood.

It was Monday morning, she lived in New York, and she worked at the most prestigious equity firm on Wall Street. Life couldn’t be better, though her family insisted she should think about marriage.

Ridiculous. She was only twenty-two years old. She was starting her career. She was making more money than she’d ever thought possible. Marriage wasn’t an option, though once she would’ve considered it.

Her heart drummed, and her mouth went dry. She pushed thoughts of what-might-have-been out of her mind.

From the newspaper stand in front of her office building, she scooped up an investment newspaper and plopped several bills on the countertop. She scanned the headlines and pushed through the revolving doors into the marble lobby that echoed with the taps of script-embossed shoes crossing the tiled floor. It was the same headline she’d been reading since she’d graduated college over a year ago—STOCK MARKET CRASH IMMINENT.

She tucked the newspaper under her arm and raced to the elevators. The markets hit record highs every other day. A crash wasn’t possible.

The elevator doors slid open and she joined the mass of humanity cramming into the postage stamp sized space. She sucked in one last deep breath, tightened her stomach and faced the elevator doors.

The suits towered around her. Some spoke about their weekend, others, sipped their coffees. All seemed charged and ready for the opening bell of the stock market.

“Ellora Duvall.” The voice behind her was deep and rich and made her spine go rigid.

Zach Lowe. Alarm blew through her. She hadn’t heard that voice since high school, but she’d memorized it along with his square jaw, his crooked smile and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

She jerked her head up. Raging hot latte squirted through the cap’s spout and splashed over her hand. She gritted her teeth. Yell in this cab filled with suits? Not on her life. She hadn’t looked to see who else was in the cab. She hadn’t realized she stood right in front of Zach. It’d be her luck that her company’s president would be in the elevator. And what would Zach think?

A handkerchief with a monogrammed Z wrapped around her hand and mopped away the coffee.

The elevator glided to a stop and the doors slid open.

“This is my floor.” Ellora stepped from the cab. When the doors closed, she’d race to the bathroom and stick her hand under cold running water.

And scream—from humiliation and pain.

The doors closed.

“You need ice on that.” Zach was standing behind her.

She whirled around. He stood in front of the mirrored doors that reflected his muscular form cloaked in a gray suit.

“You got off the elevator,” she stammered.

“Of course, I got off. You burned your hand. I feel responsible. Let’s take care of that. Now.”

“Zach, you don’t have to help me. I’ll just run some water—”

He said nothing. He stepped past her and strode through a sea of cubicles toward the break room at the end of the hall. Several heads rose above the cubicle panels and stared after him.

That happened to Zach in high school. When he passed by, every head turned.

The company president moved down the hallway studying a prospectus. He stopped and stared over his glasses at Zach.

“Zach Lowe.” He glanced at his watch. “I didn’t expect to see you today. Our golf game isn’t until Wednesday unless you’re having second thoughts.”

“On the contrary, George.” Zach shook the president’s hand and strode down the aisle. “I look forward to it.” He stepped into the break room.

“Hello, Mr. Miller,” Ellora murmured to the president. Her shoulders hunched, she scooted past him.

“Hello. Erica, isn’t it?”

“Ellora. Ellora Duvall. It’s nice to see you again, sir.” She turned to him. The smile she pasted over her mouth felt as if wires had been threaded through her cheeks. When he turned away, she raced to the break room.

“Come here.” Zach dropped a handful of ice into a plastic bag. Where did he find the bag? He lifted her coffee cup from her hand.

She set her briefcase and purse on a round table. “How did you know where the break room was, and how do you know Mr. Miller?”

“If you’ve been in one equities firm, you’ve been in them all. The break room’s always in the same place. As for George, he and I go way back.”

“How far back could that be? You were only one year ahead of me in high school.”

“And two years older since you skipped a grade.” His eyes grazed hers.

Ellora flushed. That and the fact that she had a December birthday made her the youngest in her class. She’d always felt awkward and she’d never really fit in.

“I didn’t even realize you worked in this building,” she said.

“Now you do. I’m going to wrap this bag around your hand.” He uttered the statement as if it were a warning. He gave her a full look.

Heated blood raced through her veins. “Zach, I don’t need—”

He took her hand and draped the ice bag over it. “Does that hurt?”

He had no idea. “A little.”

“Let’s take care of this.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “When did you start working for JRK?”

“Almost the day I graduated.” She couldn’t look away from the deep brilliant blue eyes that scooped air from her lungs. “I had planned to backpack through Europe with some friends, but when JRK offered me the job, I didn’t want to miss this opportunity. I mean, a chance to work on Wall Street and for one of the most prestigious firms. I accepted their offer and canceled my trip.”

“That was smart.” He said it in a way that spread warmth through her chest.

“What about you? I’d heard you were in New York.”

“Where’d you here that?”

Her throat dried. She couldn’t tell him he was the number one gossip topic whenever she got together with her high school friends.

“Somewhere.” She dragged out the word. “Which firm are you with?”

“Bell Equity.”

“The Black Knight of Wall Street?” She almost hiccupped. “Zach, they have a terrible reputation. They buy companies and fire employees. Maybe I should be afraid of you.”

“You can’t believe everything you read.” His smile seemed dry. “How does your hand feel?”

“Huh?” She’d almost forgotten why he was standing in front of her, looking into her eyes and holding her hand. “Oh, it feels better, so much better.” She pulled her hand free from his touch and took one step backwards. The void dropping between them felt as if they were floating in different galaxies. “It’ll be fine. Not damaged or anything.” Why had she said that? She wanted to slam her palm into her forehead. It sounded stupid—stuck-in-high-school stupid.

He studied her a moment. Something flickered in his eyes. “If you think you’ll need anything...”

“I won’t need anything but thank you for helping me.” She was talking too fast.

The corner of his mouth curved. “It was the least I could do. You should still keep ice on your hand.”

“I’ll do that.” She hadn’t even heard what he said.

“Congratulations on the Wall Street job. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Her jaw froze. She couldn’t say anything.

For a moment she thought he’d touch his hand to her cheek. She could almost feel his heat.

He didn’t touch her. He didn’t do anything except nod and walk out of the break room.

And out of her life.

Ellora stared at the empty doorway. The break room felt cold and dark.

The heat in her chest had to be from the high school crush she had on Zach Lowe.

If that were true, why did it burn? She wanted to rush after him, ask him out on a date.

Date? Hadn’t she told her family she didn’t want to date? Didn’t have time to date?

But if she dated Zach...

He wouldn’t date her. His mother, Kim, had told her he’d never date her. Ellora had been high school geeky. Her family wasn’t in his class. Zach had been one of the cool kids. She’d heard about the girls he’d dated. She’d heard about how much fun he was at parties. She’d heard how all the girls wanted to be with him.

She and Zach had been in the same chemistry class and she was always helping him. Today, he’d helped her, and seemed happy to do so.

That meant nothing.

Kim’s cold words rang in Ellora’s ears. Her insides shivered. It was six years ago when Kim had cornered Ellora at her parents’ party. No one else was around. No one heard Kim’s warning. But Ellora never forgot the look on Kim’s face and the sharpness in her voice.

“Don’t get any ideas about Zach, hon. You’ll never be good enough for my son.”


About the Author

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Laura Haley-McNeil is an award-winning author of romantic suspense and women’s fiction in novel length and in short stories. Her work has been featured in several women’s magazines. She has studied piano and ballet and has been a board member for two community orchestras. She and her husband reside in Colorado. When she isn’t writing, she jogs, bicycles and crochets.





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Friday, 6 July 2018

thedeadgirlinthevacantlot


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Fiction - Mystery
Date Published: May 16, 2018
Publisher: Spotlight Publishing

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         Phoenix investigative reporter Joya Bonner is like most Americans—she knows nothing about the world of sex trafficking; thinks it's a problem reserved for somewhere far off. Thailand. Russia.

         But the reality that this is an American problem slaps her in the face when  her 15 year-old honorary niece disappears in Phoenix.  And a 13 year-old from her hometown in North Dakota goes missing.  And there's that pitiful dead girl in the vacant lot. As the evidence piles up that these are all part of the sex-slave underworld, Joy's awakening chills her to the bone.

         She's sickened even more when she realizes the website that pimps use to sell these girls was created in Phoenix at the weekly newspaper New Times—by guys she knew; by journalists she admired; by men she'd defended in the pages of her own newspaper when they were attacked by Sheriff Joe Arpaio.

         Joya's frantic search to find the missing girls—and identify the dead child—brings readers into the real world of sex trafficking. It includes the true history of Backpage.com, that's been called an “online brothel,” and its founders, Mike Lacey and Jim Larkin, currently awaiting trial on charges of facilitating sex trafficking.

         This book combines a riveting fictional story with the reality that is ripped from today's headlines. The book ends with an extensive “end notes” section that details the facts and personalities of this world—both from those exploiting youngsters for prostitution, and those who have long fought to stop it.



About the Author

 photo Jana-Bommersbach-_1718317789_zpsuaafzyjd.jpg Jana Bommersbach is one of Arizona's most acclaimed journalists and authors. She's already been honored with two lifetime achievement awards as “an inspiration to the state's media community.”  She's been inducted into the Arizona Arts and Entertainment Hall of Fame, and honored by the ACLU as a “journalist and activist who speaks truth to power.”  She's won a regional Emmy for her television work and was named the nation's best columnist in a city magazine for her work at Phoenix magazine. She twice won the Don Bolles Award in Investigative Reporting for her work at Phoenix New Times.

         Jana is known as a tenacious researcher and lyrical writer. Her debut non-fiction book, “The Trunk Murderess: Winnie Ruth Judd” was nominated for the prestigious Edgar Allan Poe Award as one of the nation's best mysteries in 1992.  Her children's book, “A Squirrel's Story, a True Tale” won numerous awards here and abroad. Her first historical novel, “Cattle Kate,” was named one of the best books of 2014 by Publisher's Weekly. With “thedeadgirlinthevacantlot,” Jana continues exploring the world of fiction with her character, Phoenix investigative reporter Joya Bonner.

          To satisfy her journalistic soul, Jana combines a fictional story with real-life incidents she's covered in the past. In her first Joya Bonner book, “Funeral Hotdish,” it was the problem of Sammy “the Bull” Gravano and his Arizona ecstasy ring and how it affected Joya's safe, secure hometown in North Dakota that buried one of its children from a drug overdose.  In this new book, Joya takes on the world of sex-trafficking.  As the book was going to press, federal officials shut down the “online brothel” known as Backpage.com and its founders—Mike Lacey and Jim Larkin—were arrested and are awaiting trial on multiple counts of facilitating sex-trafficking.

         This is a particularly poignant story for Jana to write, for a dozen years before Backpage was created, she was partners with Mike and Jim in owning Phoenix New Times. She left and sold her interest to pursue other journalistic options. As she says in the Epilogue, “I write this book with a broken heart.”



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Tuesday, 3 July 2018

Where Have All the Elves Gone?


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Urban Fantasy / Paranormal
Date Published: April 1, 2018
Publisher: War Fighter Books

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Everyone knows Elves don’t exist. Or do they? Daniel Thomas spent years making a career of turning his imagination into the reality of best selling fantasy novels. But times are tough. No one wants to read about elves and dragons anymore. Daniel learns this firsthand when his agent flatly says no to his latest and, what he deems, to be greatest novel yet. Dissatisfied with the turn to zombies and vampire lovers, he takes his manuscript and heads out to confront his agent.

His world changes when he finds his agent dying on the floor of her office. Too late to help, he watches as her dead body disintegrates into a pile of ash and dust. Daniel doesn’t have time to ponder what just happened as a band of assassins breaks in, forcing him to flee to the Citadel and the home of the king of the high elves in order to survive. Daniel soon discovers that all of the creatures he once thought he imagined actually exist and are living among us. His revelation comes at a price however, as he is drawn into a murder-mystery that will push him to the edge of sanity and show him things no human has witnessed in centuries


About the Author

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Christian W. Freed was born in Buffalo, N.Y. more years ago than he would like to remember. After spending more than 20 years in the active duty US Army he has turned his talents to writing. Since retiring, he has gone on to publish 17 military fantasy and science fiction novels, as well as his memoirs from his time in Iraq and Afghanistan. His first published book (Hammers in the Wind) has been the #1 free book on Kindle 4 times and he holds a fancy certificate from the L Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest.
Passionate about history, he combines his knowledge of the past with modern military tactics to create an engaging, quasi-realistic world for the readers. He graduated from Campbell University with a degree in history and is pursuing a Masters of Arts degree in Military History from Norwich University. He currently lives outside of Raleigh, N.C. and devotes his time to writing, his family, and their two Bernese Mountain Dogs. If you drive by you might just find him on the porch with a cigar in one hand and a pen in the other. You can find out more about his work by following him @ https://www.facebook.com/ChristianFreed or on Twitter @christianwfreed.


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Tiny Pieces by Stephanie Henry

New Adult Romance Date Published: October 2, 2018 We all carry tiny pieces of those who built us. And ...