tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19695589219649318282024-03-05T02:57:17.404-06:00Moonlight, Lace and Mayhem<br>
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Our BlogMargay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.comBlogger1018125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-20403045369479815152016-04-10T09:19:00.001-05:002016-04-10T09:19:02.486-05:00Margay Leah Justice: Kindle Scout Campaign for If You Can See Me by Mar...<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2016/04/kindle-scout-campaign-for-if-you-can.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: Kindle Scout Campaign for If You Can See Me by Mar...</a>: There's still time to help me get published. I'd be so grateful if you'd go here and nominate my book in Kindle Scout: https://k...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-56956596918726334712015-11-25T08:20:00.001-06:002015-11-25T08:20:27.398-06:00Margay Leah Justice: Book Blitz and Giveaway: Anarchy Found by J.A. Hus...<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2015/11/book-blitz-and-giveaway-anarchy-found.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: Book Blitz and Giveaway: Anarchy Found by J.A. Hus...</a>: Anarchy Found J.A. Huss (SuperAlpha Series) Publication date: December 2nd 2015 Genres: Superhero Romance Everyone needs a hero. T...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-42934999499206938572015-11-02T09:00:00.000-06:002015-11-02T09:00:02.926-06:00Spotlight and Giveaway: Frosh by Monica B. Wagner<div id="pageWrapper" style="background-color: white; border: 0px solid rgb(17, 17, 17); clear: both; color: #444444; flex: 0 1 auto; font-family: proxima-nova; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px 10px;">
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FROSH: First Blush by Mónica<span style="flex: 0 1 auto; font-size: x-small;"> </span>B. Wagner </h1>
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<span style="flex: 0 1 auto;">“</span>Fresh, authentic, and smart. This is a feel good book, but think twice about reading it in public. Some parts will make you feel really good!<br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><span style="flex: 0 1 auto;">”</span></blockquote>
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<strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">Du</strong><strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">ring welcome week at Hillson University, the FROSH will hit the fan.</strong><br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" />Type-A aspiring journalist <strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">Ellie</strong> plans to take freshman year by storm. But hell-bent on breaking a huge on-campus scandal, she risks becoming one herself—and getting the mysterious, heart-melting QB in serious trouble. <br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">Grant</strong>, star quarterback and charismatic chick-magnet, is hiding a life-altering secret. The last thing he needs is an overeager (absolutely adorable) journalist asking questions. He’s got a reputation to protect.<br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" />High-society legacy student <strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">Devon</strong> is ready to catch the football hottie of her dreams. If the tabloids feature her with the “it” boy on her arm, her tainted past will be buried—or so she thinks.<br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">Charlie</strong>, pre-med, is done being the sweet and funny geek that girls like Devon ignore. But if he tries to impress her with a new edgy, spontaneous attitude, will his heart end up in the emergency room?<br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" /><br style="flex: 0 1 auto;" />FROSH intertwines the stories of Ellie, Grant, Devon, and Charlie in Mónica B. Wagner’s sexy NA debut series, about falling in love and falling apart.</div>
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<strong style="flex: 0 1 auto;">Mónica </strong>was born in a Peruvian city by a snow-capped volcano. Growing up, books were her constant companion as she traveled with her family to places like India (where she became a vegetarian), Thailand (where she *almost* met Leonardo di Caprio), France (where she pretended to learn French), and countless other places that inspired her to write. Now, Mónica lives in Chile with her husband, three boys, eleven hens, and stray dog.</div>
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<script src="//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-27022333268247640642015-04-27T10:29:00.000-05:002015-04-27T10:29:00.234-05:00Cover Reveal and Giveaway: The Tale of Willaby Creek by Victoria Lindstrom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcGc7a0Ot6YQKjpt-HmQpcDC3JgjIN_pOgE9T8lALBImEDDcQvgZyNA6HcLpV-ib6C7fQhV7dF7u_DNCrcfcX6__Ak12nOf7GvjjUNrPxDIqeLJ5ZC3dqo5SgpuzNYbvoLYx3HU-YnSI/s1600/willaby1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcGc7a0Ot6YQKjpt-HmQpcDC3JgjIN_pOgE9T8lALBImEDDcQvgZyNA6HcLpV-ib6C7fQhV7dF7u_DNCrcfcX6__Ak12nOf7GvjjUNrPxDIqeLJ5ZC3dqo5SgpuzNYbvoLYx3HU-YnSI/s1600/willaby1.png" /></a></div>
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I'm excited to share the cover reveal of <i>The Tale of Willaby Creek</i> by Victoria Lindstrom! This is a middle grade adventure fantasy that releases in June 2015. </div>
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<b>About the Book:</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23adBTaQttY02Zg5PWY_KVIyNb55Fcj9CjKJjNAlvlcjqEDamD54KBGJlM7x6kYaVi4l94idJdl0ZRy6IRg_0qz7ycd_QtbY9DT2QI0E9IY-7hn5DaYLI6zBldgo5K14ZV9O42EEhGnY/s1600/TOWC_EbookLrg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23adBTaQttY02Zg5PWY_KVIyNb55Fcj9CjKJjNAlvlcjqEDamD54KBGJlM7x6kYaVi4l94idJdl0ZRy6IRg_0qz7ycd_QtbY9DT2QI0E9IY-7hn5DaYLI6zBldgo5K14ZV9O42EEhGnY/s1600/TOWC_EbookLrg.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a><i>A magical tale of amazing sacrifice...</i><br />
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When a violent windstorm strikes an enchanted rain forest many of the woodland creatures of Willaby Creek are stranded, injured, or lost forever to the frenzied force of the tempest. Basil, a black bear full of doubt and fear, becomes the unlikely leader to head the woodland creatures' rescue. He is joined by Daphne, a spunky blue dryad; Oliver, a wise horned owl; Elbert, a noble elk; and a host of other creatures that inhabit the enchanted rain forest.<br />
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Dangerous twists and turns in this animal adventure fantasy cause Basil to discover a courage, and a conviction, he never knew he had. The answers to the ancient mysteries in this magical tale emerge in an extraordinary finale under the tall timbers of the hidden hinterland.</div>
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<div>
<b>About the Author:</b></div>
VICTORIA LINDSTROM is a full-time writer, a voracious reader, and the author of the children's picture book, The Scandinavian Santa. She loves to wander through the woods, capture the beauty of Nature in photographs, and visit museums and fine art galleries. She and her husband, Michael, live near the shore of the Columbia River in the Pacific Northwest. You may visit Victoria at: <a href="http://www.victorialindstrom.com/">www.victorialindstrom.com</a><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Giveaway:</span></b><br />
One hardcover copy of <i>The Tale of Willaby Creek</i> (US) and an ebook of <i>The Tale of Willaby Creek</i> (INT)<br />
(Books will be delivered upon release, or shortly before.)<br />
Ends May 19, 2015<br />
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-42975801518462300822015-04-03T08:42:00.001-05:002015-04-03T08:42:24.048-05:00Interview of Author Margay Leah Justice<a href="http://romancebooks4us.blogspot.ca/2015/04/interview-of-author-margay-leah-justice.html#.VR6YuMjeuzY.blogger">Interview of Author Margay Leah Justice</a>Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-67357350086040795402015-03-27T11:45:00.001-05:002015-03-27T11:45:48.536-05:00Margay Leah Justice: New Cover! New Title! Jack Hammer is Now Stripped ...<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2015/03/new-cover-new-title-jack-hammer-is-now.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: New Cover! New Title! Jack Hammer is Now Stripped ...</a>: You guys, this book by the incredible writing duo of Tabatha Vargo and Melissa Andrea has undergone a renovation with a new title and bo...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-56176584432472968122015-03-16T08:02:00.001-05:002015-03-16T08:02:50.091-05:00Margay Leah Justice: Spotlight Tour & $100 American Express Gift Card G...<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2015/03/spotlight-tour-100-american-express.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: Spotlight Tour & $100 American Express Gift Card G...</a>: Book Information Title: Feeding the Fire Author: Andrea Laurence Release Date: March 16, 2015 Genre: Contemporary Romance S...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-57775117193891393122015-02-27T17:59:00.001-06:002015-02-27T17:59:00.061-06:00Tina Gayle's Unique Flavors of Life: The Scent of Humanity by Margay Leah Justice an #E...<a href="http://tinagayle.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-scent-of-humanity-by-margay-leah.html?spref=bl">Tina Gayle's Unique Flavors of Life: The Scent of Humanity by Margay Leah Justice an #E...</a>: Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice. In theory. But in one small town, in one family, that theory is put to the test. Growing up...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-80314083865476936532015-02-21T19:03:00.001-06:002015-02-21T19:03:59.881-06:00Margay Leah Justice: Release Blitz and Giveaway: Suspicious Minds by El...<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2015/02/release-blitz-and-giveaway-suspicious.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: Release Blitz and Giveaway: Suspicious Minds by El...</a>: Title: Suspicious Minds ( Fate , #3) Author: Elizabeth Reyes Genre: NA | Contemporary Romance Release Date: January 21, 2015 ...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-87389045757155283762015-02-04T09:49:00.000-06:002015-02-04T09:49:51.988-06:00Pump Up Your Book Presents Budapest Romance Virtual Book Publicity Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Budapest-Romance-banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Budapest-Romance-banner.jpg" height="158" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Budapest-Romance-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Budapest-Romance-3.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">: <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Budapest</st1:place></st1:city> Romance<br />
<b>Author</b>: Rozsa Gaston <br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Rozsa Gaston<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 266<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Contemporary Romance<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle/Audible<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Budapest-Romance-Rozsa-Gaston-ebook/dp/B00QH01100/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417533804&sr=1-1&keywords=Budapest+Romance+kindle">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
Kati Dunai travels to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Budapest</st1:place></st1:city>
to settle her father's estate, the last thing on her mind is the pursuit of
pleasure. She's a busy international conference planner, her life rooted in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Manhattan</st1:place></st1:city>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But from
the moment she sets foot in the city of her father's youth, it's pleasure that
pursues her. At the thermal bath spa hotel where she's staying, she meets a
Dutchman who reminds her of Béla Dunai, her Hungarian refugee father, who fled
his homeland shortly after its 1956 revolution.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jan
Klassen is in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Budapest</st1:place></st1:city>
to mend from a motorcycle accident. His scars have healed on the outside, but
inside, he cannot forgive himself for the consequences his son now lives with
forever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Jan has
never met a woman like Kati before. Her blend of <st1:place w:st="on">New
England</st1:place> restraint with gypsy spirit captivates him. While Jan
introduces Kati to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Budapest</st1:place></st1:city>'s
leisurely pace of life, Kati introduces Jan to her own leisurely pace of
sensual exploration as their attraction to each other grows over six magical
days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When
Kati returns to <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state>,
their relationship continues. But it's not just an ocean that separates them.
Kati's corporate job with frequent travel is the antithesis of the slow-paced
pleasures she enjoyed in her father's favorite city, one of <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place>'s
crown jewels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Which
will Kati put first—her new career or her new love; a man who reminds her of
the father she never fully understood? And is it the Hungarian pleasure-loving
side of herself that she really needs to understand before she can offer her
heart to the man who has awakened her to who she truly is?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i> </i>Book Excerpt:</b><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">How could she not notice being noticed?
Floating in a thermal bath pool at a spa hotel in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Budapest</st1:place></st1:city>, Kati discreetly eyed the rugged
blond man lounging in the next pool.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"> He
had glanced in her direction several times over the past two days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"> She
was mourning the death of her father the month before, and was in no shape to
be looking at the opposite sex. But the man's shaggy, blond hair had caught her
eye that first evening in the pools; it had wandered down over his shoulders
and powerful chest as well. B</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">é</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">la
Dunai would have forgiven her, she knew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">At that moment, the man lifted his head and
looked directly at her. Immediately, she pretended to be studying the clock on
the wall behind him. She hoped he was too far away to notice the blush that had
sprung onto her face. She wanted to pass for a sophisticated European woman
while in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Hungary</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
But here she was, blushing like a schoolgirl at a strange man, having forgotten
completely about her father’s passing for a brief moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">The next evening at the baths, Kati made a
point of keeping a cool expression on her face as she surveyed the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">The blond man was there again. Careful not
to glance in his direction, she obliquely noted he was near a group of men
playing chess in the water. He sat at the side of the pool, idly swinging his
legs while watching their game. Her eyes flicked over his legs; oak tree trunks
came to mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Pretending not to have seen him, she stared
dreamily in the other direction. Did she sense the blond man’s eyes upon her?
Arching her neck, she jutted her chin out, hoping it made her look more like
her favorite movie actress, Audrey Hepburn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">She wanted to know if he was watching her.
Again pretending to look at the clock on the wall behind him, she arched her
eyebrows as if realizing she had an important appointment. She didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">The man looked directly at her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Kati completely lost her nerve. Summoning
the remains of her composure, she rose slowly from the pool and disappeared
into the women’s locker room. How could she maintain a dignified mourning
posture when she was being distracted by a blond bear of a man?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Upstairs in her room, she felt restless.
Her body warmed by the thermal baths, she went out on her balcony where the
cold night air pinched her. Something else did too. Her father’s spirit nudged
her at the railing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Who
are you kidding, little daughter? You may be mourning my loss, but there’s
someone with eyes on you now who wants to get to know you. Let him.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Dad,
I’m here to wrap up your affairs. Not meet a man. It’s completely
inappropriate.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Let
life happen to you, Katika. Don't run from it. Once, long ago, I couldn’t help
noticing your mother. Thanks to her noticing me back, here you are.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Kati fled inside and got into bed. That
night, she dreamt about a golden bear stalking her in the woods. She’d run away
from the bear—slowly. Then, she let him catch her. Instead of eating her, he’d
kissed her, thoroughly. It was a long dream. When she woke up the next morning,
she felt refreshed, with a plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"> On
the following evening, Kati eased herself into the middle of the three large
pools in the bath hall and closed her eyes. Instantly, her dream of the night
before returned. When she opened her eyes, she looked in the direction of the
clock. Directly under it the blond stranger caught her gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">She gasped. Then she tossed back her hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Out of the corner of her eye, she watched
as he climbed out of the water and shook himself off like an enormous golden
retriever. She turned her head away, unable to keep from smiling at the image.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Next thing she knew, he was at the side of
the pool next to her. He crouched, resting muscular arms on well-formed,
golden-haired knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="en-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: #0400;"> </span><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author</span></b></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps;">Rozsa Gaston</span></strong><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> writes playful books on serious matters. Women getting what they want out of life is one of them. She studied European intellectual history at Yale, and then received her master’s degree in international affairs from <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Columbia</st1:place></st1:city>. In between, she worked as a singer/pianist all over the world. She lives in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Bronxville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">NY</st1:state></st1:place> with her family.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Her books include <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Budapest-Romance-Rozsa-Gaston-ebook/dp/B00QH01100/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417533804&sr=1-1&keywords=Budapest+Romance+kindle">Budapest Romance</a></i>, <i>The Ava Series: <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Paris</st1:place></st1:city> Adieu, Part I </i>and<i> Black is Not a Color, Part II, Running from Love, Dog Sitters</i> and <i>Lyric</i>. Her upcoming novel is <i>Sense of Touch</i>, a fictionalized story of Anne of Brittany and Queen of France.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Rozsa Gaston’s <a href="http://www.rozsagaston.com/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Connect with Rozsa on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/rozsagastonauthor/">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/rozsagaston">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Find out more about Rozsa at <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/rozsagaston/">Goodreads</a>.</span></i></li>
</ul>
Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-60155372670611601262015-01-21T09:00:00.000-06:002015-01-21T09:00:05.550-06:00Book Spotlight and Giveaway: Shadows in the Fog by Greg Messel<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">: Shadows in the Fog<br />
<b>Author</b>: Greg Messel<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Sunbreaks Publishing<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 353<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Mystery Thriller<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-Fog-Slater-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B00OJ69HKU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414012072&sr=1-1">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">The story begins on a stormy morning in February of
1959. The front page of the morning paper is dominated by news of the plane
crash which killed rock ’n roll stars Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper and Richie
Valens. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Private Eye Sam Slater is hired to perform what he
thinks is a routine two-day job as a favor for a friend. However, it all goes
terribly wrong when a young <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">San
Francisco</st1:place></st1:city> policeman is gunned down while sitting in a
parked car with Sam. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">The murder sets off a chain of events which will
pull Sam and his wife and partner, Amelia, into a dangerous web of intrigue in
the dark, shadowy alleys and back rooms of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">San Francisco</st1:place></st1:city>’s <st1:place w:st="on">Chinatown</st1:place>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">In the winter of 1959, Amelia resigns as a TWA
stewardess and is now Sam’s full time partner in the private eye
business. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Sam and Amelia inadvertently come in conflict with
the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">San Francisco</st1:place></st1:city>
mob boss after helping a crusading newspaper reporter who is working to expose
corruption in <st1:place w:st="on">Chinatown</st1:place>. Now a mysterious dark
car follows the Slaters every where they go. Sam and Amelia discover a hidden
world of corrupt cops, gambling parlors, brothels and human trafficking exists
right under their noses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">At the same time, a rising <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">California</st1:place></st1:state> politician hires Sam and Amelia
to find his daughter who disappeared without a trace three years earlier. The
search is prompted by the sudden appearance of a letter from the woman, who was
presumed dead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">As Sam and Amelia pursue these cases, they discover
that all the clues lead them back to <st1:place w:st="on">Chinatown</st1:place>.
The Slaters want to avoid taking on the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">San
Francisco</st1:place></st1:city> crime lords head-on. However, when Amelia is
kidnapped in an alley during the Chinese New Year’s celebration, Sam plunges
himself into danger desperately searching <st1:place w:st="on">Chinatown</st1:place>
to find her before it’s too late. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">The reader will be drawn into fast moving events
which culminate in a harrowing conclusion as Sam Slater races against the clock
on a foggy night in <st1:place w:st="on">Chinatown</st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“Shadows In The Fog” is the fifth book in the the
award winning Sam Slater Mysteries Series but is a stand-alone thriller in the
tradition of great whodunits.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">The heavy blanket of clouds that had hung on the
city all day was especially thick in the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ocean</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Beach</st1:placetype></st1:place>
area near Playland. It felt like rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">When Amelia arrived at her car, which she had
parked in a side lot by the Funhouse, she opened the door before removing her
trench coat and tossing it on the front seat. She had been overdressed in
Cassandra’s parlor, leaving on her coat over her gray wool dress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">As she stood by her car, a slow moving large blue
car caught her eye. She froze. There were two lines of parked cars in the
lot. Amelia noticed that the driver of the car seemed to be watching her
as he slowly drove through the parking lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">She watched the man suspiciously and wondered if he
might be looking for a parking spot. Maybe the man in the blue car was waiting
for her to vacate her spot. Amelia continue to watch him and thought if he
tried something she could always turn and run into the Funhouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">The large blue car then stopped as it entered the
row where Amelia was parked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Amelia leaned in to place her purse on the seat and
thought of taking the handgun out of her purse. It was then that the blue car
suddenly accelerated and then slammed on it’s brakes with a screech right
behind Amelia’s car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Amelia had been concentrating on the slow-moving
car and never saw the second man rapidly approaching her from behind. The
assailant put a black hood over Amelia’s head and grabbed her arm, painfully
twisting it behind her before pushing her into the back seat of the blue car.
The swiftness of the attack was so unexpected that Amelia had no chance to cry
out before she felt herself being held down on the back seat by the large
powerful man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">She heard the car door slam. “Let’s get outta
here!” the man said to his partner and the car began to drive away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Book
Trailer:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1969558921964931828" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1969558921964931828" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><object height="315" width="560"><param
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<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Greg Messel has spent most of his adult life interested in writing, including a career in the newspaper business. He won a Wyoming Press Association Award as a columnist and has contributed articles to various magazines. Greg retired from the corporate world and now lives in <st1:place w:st="on">South Jordan</st1:place>, <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Utah</st1:place></st1:state> with his wife of over 40 years, Carol Madsen Messel. They have three adult children who are married and have 11 grandchildren.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Greg has written eight novels. His latest is "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-Fog-Slater-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B00OJ69HKU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414012072&sr=1-1">Shadows In The Fog</a>" which is the fifth in a series of mysteries set in 1959 <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">San Francisco</st1:place></st1:city>. "<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Fog</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype></st1:place> Strangler," "San Francisco Secrets," "Deadly Plunge" are sequels to the first book in the series "Last of the Seals." His other three novels are "Sunbreaks," "Expiation" and "The Illusion of Certainty."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Greg is currently working on his ninth novel--the sixth in the mystery series--"Cable Car Mystery"--which will be published in late 2015.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For More Information</span></b><span style="color: #181818; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Visit Greg Messel’s <a href="http://www.gregmessel.com/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Connect with Greg on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/greg.messel">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/gregmessel">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Find out more about Greg at <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3123768.Greg_Messel">Goodreads</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">More <a href="http://www.gregmessel.com/novels/">books</a> by Greg Messel.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.gregmessel.com/contact/">Contact</a> Greg.</span></i></li>
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<span lang="en-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-ansi-language: #0400;">Giveaway:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Greg Messel is giving away a $25
Amazon Gift Card!<o:p></o:p></h3>
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<b>Terms & Conditions:</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;">By entering
the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;">One winner
will be chosen via Rafflecopter.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;">This
giveaway begins December 1 and ends February 13.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;">Winner will
be contacted via email on Monday, February 1i6.<o:p></o:p></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;">Winner has
48 hours to reply.<o:p></o:p></li>
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Good luck everyone!<o:p></o:p><br />
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<h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;">
ENTER TO WIN!</h3>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-62271784366667664542015-01-07T15:46:00.000-06:002015-01-07T15:46:28.273-06:00Book Spotlight: Charlotte Mysteries Series (Run & Stand) by Becky Johnson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">: Run<br />
<b>Author</b>: Becky Johnson<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Becky Johnson<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 160<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Mystery Suspense<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Run-Charlotte-Marshall-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B00KY8GB60/ref=la_B00NDACHS2_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417798814&sr=1-1">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">A
decades old mystery and a deadly game of cat and mouse will change Charlotte
Marshall forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Charlotte has a good life: friends, family, a successful career. Her perfect
life is destroyed when research for a book and a connection from her past
plunges her into the middle of her worst nightmare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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On the run, with no one to trust, Charlotte begins to unravel the work of a
sadistic murderer. Afraid and alone, she will learn the meaning of trust and
just when to run.</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">It’s ironic really, the chain of events that led me here,
kneeling in the dirt with a gun to my head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">My tale of woe, if I can be so bold as to call it that,
started innocently enough. It started with spelling words and dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">1992<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">As a student I was smart but a horrible speller.
(Dyslexia will do that to you.) In order to get me through my spelling test
every week, my mother, who naturally was a school teacher, worked with me every
night on my spelling words. While I sat at the table working on my spelling,
she watched the news and made dinner. It would not be an understatement to say
it was the least favorite part of my day. I would sit at the kitchen table
wanting to be outside or really just about anywhere else, and write out my
words for the week ten times each, then in a sentence, then test myself with
flashcards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">Certain, certain, certain</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">. I am certain I do not want to be doing this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">However, however, however</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">. However, I don’t
have a choice…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">“Earlier today, police in Cherry Hill responded to a call
from local kids at the park…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">Balance, balance, balance</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">. What sentence could I use for balance…? The seal
balanced a ball on his nose. Stupid but it would work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">“…the body of an unidentified female adolescent was
discovered…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">My attention was caught. Spelling words forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">“…sources say the victim was raped and tortured before
she was murdered. Her body was mutilated. Police are asking that anyone…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">What? The words of the newscaster left me feeling
unsettled. I knew something bad had happened; for the first time, the world was
scary. I knew enough to put that together, but the why left me shaken. Why
would someone kill a girl?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">“I don’t get it, Mom, what happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">Once my mom realized I was talking about the news, the TV
was turned off and I was redirected back to my spelling words. I bent back over
my spelling words while my mind whirled. I knew there was something different
about this story. The unknown girl stuck in my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">: Stand<br />
<b>Author</b>: Becky Johnson<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Becky Johnson<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 160<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Mystery Suspense<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stand-Charlotte-Marshall-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B00PE2OMKS/ref=la_B00NDACHS2_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417804907&sr=1-2">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Nine months ago Charlotte
Marshall survived a nightmare when she was hunted by a sadistic killer. Now
routine, ritual, and a vigorous self-defense schedule barely keep the fear at
bay. <br />
<br />
Desperate to move on <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Charlotte</st1:place></st1:city>
finds hope in volunteering with FindMe, an organization dedicated to finding
missing people and helping their families. Her first case ends up being more
than she bargained for, and she soon learns that a little hope can be a
dangerous thing. <br />
<br />
While <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Charlotte</st1:place></st1:city>
unravels a mystery, an old enemy circles waiting for just the right moment to
strike. <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Charlotte</st1:place></st1:city>
will have to choose to stand and fight, or to give in to the fear that waits
for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">My own scream woke me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Zero to sixty in less than a second. One second I was
sound asleep, and the next I was bolt upright in bed with the sound of my
scream still echoing across the bedroom. My heart thundered in my chest, and my
panting breaths sounded loud in the silence. My shaking hands gripped the
blanket in tight fists. Kitty looked up at me from her cozy spot at the end of
the bed. Yellow eyes blinked. Then she meowed in sympathy and dropped her
calico head back down onto her paws. She used to love sleeping curled right up
against me. But my regular nightmares disrupted her. Unfortunately nightmares
are not an uncommon occurrence. I have suffered from them ever since Lawrence
Pheares.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Nine months ago I faced a monster, a murderer responsible
for the deaths of twenty-three innocent girls. At night he haunts me. Sometimes
the dreams are a reenactment of the events. I see Pheares choking me. Or I
remember Jack and Pheares fighting. Sometimes the nightmares are filled with
images of my lost girls. I watch helpless as Emily runs from a mad man. I
cannot save her. The worst ones though, the dreams that make it impossible for
me to go back to sleep, are the ones like the nightmare I just woke up from.
They leave me with a jumble of images and tangled feelings. Nothing concrete
that makes sense. When I wake up screaming, I am overwhelmed with terror.
That’s the only feeling or sense I get from these dreams, bone deep fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">According to my therapist I am suffering from PTSD.
Simple letters for a life that is changed by trauma. Nine months ago I had
lived the nightmare. It all began so simply. I was doing research for my next
novel when I stumbled onto a serial killer and twenty-three girls who were
abducted, raped, tortured, murdered, and then thrown away. When I found the
killer, he found me. I almost didn’t survive. In the end I beat Lawrence
Pheares, but in doing so I was forever changed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Without conscious thought, my hand reached over to cover
the E tattooed on the inside of my right arm, a daily reminder of what I had
survived and a tribute to those innocent girls who did not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In the months since I discovered evidence of a serial
killer and my life became entwined with those lost girls who were heartlessly
killed by a madman, I had become a different person, scared of my own shadow.
At first it wasn’t so bad. I was still cruising on adrenaline. Now every day is
a battle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">When I let myself really think about it, thoughts of
Georgia frighten me the most. I never learned from Pheares what role she played
in the killings, but I knew in my heart that she had one. Pheares was dead. But
I knew Georgia was still out there. There was no evidence of this, but my gut
told me different. I knew she was alive. I could feel her watching me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I looked over at my bedside clock. It was four
forty-three in the morning. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep.
My body was slick with sweat and the hands I ran over my face shook. Max, my
black Pit Bull mix, looked at me from his spot beside my bed. His ears were
perked. Brown eyes focused on me. He looked ready to get up with me or go back
to sleep, depending on my next move. These days Max rarely leaves my side. He
is a good friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I swung my legs over and sat on the edge of the bed. A
few deep breaths later my heart was no longer racing, and I was ready to get
up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I start every morning with yoga. It is one of my
therapies. Sometimes I think if I don’t do the little things like yoga,
running, and journaling, I will plunge into a well of terror that will dominate
me. So every morning, no matter what, I make myself stick to my routine, as
though that alone will save me. That morning my poses were a little shaky from
my nightmare, but I made it through them. Mountain pose. Forward bend. Down
dog. I could feel myself steadying. Warrior two. Down dog. Tree pose. I
finished with two sun salutations then stood in mountain pose just breathing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Max knows my new pattern. When my routine was finished he
was ready to go. He leaned his big body against me and gave that look dog
owners everywhere know – <i>outside please</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I will admit I am afraid of becoming agoraphobic. It
would be so easy. But I make myself go outside. If I didn’t, I think I could
live a very content and safe life, never leaving the safety of my home. But
that would mean that Pheares won. I can’t let him win. So, every day I force myself
to venture outdoors. I stand outside and consider it a small victory in the
midst of many battles. Max helps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I grabbed Max’s leash from the hall closet and layered on
warm winter gear. Coat, gloves, hat, boots. December in New Jersey is cold. It
was so early that it was dark outside and very still. It had already been a
rough icy winter. There were several inches of snow on the ground. I paused at
my front door, Max waited patiently on his leash beside me. A few deep breaths,
and I was able to convince myself to open the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">My last home burned down, part of the drama I endured
nine months ago with Pheares. He burned my home and destroyed everything I
owned. He took so much from me, but at the end I was still standing. After a
brief stay in a temporary condo, courtesy of my agent, my new home is
comfortably located in a quiet development with lots of space between the
houses and a big fenced backyard for Max. The small two story home has a nice
open floor plan downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. It backs up to trees and
a lake, so it is quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">It feels like too much quiet sometimes, but I like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The only nice thing about taking Max outside in the
winter is that he is as happy to move quickly and get back inside as I am. He
is not a fan of the cold. My breath left cold puffs of fog in the air and I
shifted in place to stay warm. It was eerily quiet out, still too early for
most of the world to be stirring. As I waited for Max to finish his business,
headlights flashed over my front door. A car turned the corner onto my street.
I tensed. As it rolled closer I recognized the logo of the security company
hired to patrol my neighborhood. It was one of things that attracted me to this
development. I was looking for a sense of security, wanting to feel safe. It
hasn’t worked, but I gave the security car a wave as it slowly moved past my
house. Looks like Carl. I had made a point to know every guard that patrolled.
I know everyone who is a help or a possible threat in my fragile world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Max finished his business, shivered from the chilly air,
and whined to go back inside. We ran toward the door. After the cold the first
wave of warmth was almost too much. I didn’t really relax until I heard the
locks click. I was glad to be out of the cold and the dark. I always breathe a
little easier when I am safely locked inside my home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I striped off all the winter gear I had piled on and put
them back in their respective places in the hall closet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">After a shower to wash away the sweat from my nightmare
and yoga, and then a bowl of Cheerios, I felt almost ready to face the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">I stood facing the mirror wearing a pair of yoga pants
and a sports bra, my other daily ritual. I took stock of my body and its
changes. Same long light blonde hair pulled back into a sensible ponytail, same
dark blue eyes and overbite. The differences from nine months ago are obvious.
I’ve lost over twenty-five pounds. Anything less than a hundred and twenty on
my frame is too skinny. I was too skinny. The dark circles under my eyes were
almost permanent. The biggest change though is my eyes. I used to be innocent,
innocent to murder and cruelty. I’m not anymore. My eyes now are old. The
changes were obvious. However, they were not all negative. I was strong. My
arms had muscles they never had before. I was tough, inside and out. Looking at
my reflection I repeated the same positive mantra I said every morning. <i>You
are strong. You are a survivor.</i> Then I finished getting dressed and drove
into Philly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Becky-Johnson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Becky-Johnson.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Books are Becky Johnson’s
passion and always have been. She used to get in trouble in school for reading
during class! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Becky has Master’s degrees
in social work and history, and for her day job she is a social worker. In her
writing she tries to answer a question that is important to both social work
and history: Why? She always wants to
know why people do the things they do or feel the way they feel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">When not reading or writing
she enjoys yoga, cooking, and makes a pretty mean chili! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Her latest books of the
Charlotte Marshall Mysteries series are <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Run-Charlotte-Marshall-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B00KY8GB60/ref=la_B00NDACHS2_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417798814&sr=1-1">Run</a></i>
and <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stand-Charlotte-Marshall-Mysteries-Book-ebook/dp/B00PE2OMKS/ref=la_B00NDACHS2_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417804907&sr=1-2">Stand</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">
</span></div>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Visit Becky Johnson’s <a href="http://www.bjohnson-author.blogspot.com/">blog</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Connect with Becky on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/bjohnsonauthor">Facebook</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Find out more about Becky at <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8304350.Becky_Johnson">Goodreads</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
</ul>
Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-71085971941472813392015-01-07T15:20:00.000-06:002015-01-07T15:20:36.215-06:00Book Spotlight and Giveaway: Broken Bonds by Karen Harper <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1969558921964931828" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1969558921964931828" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Broken-Bonds-banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Broken-Bonds-banner.jpg" height="134" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Broken-Bonds-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Broken-Bonds-21.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">: Broken Bonds<br />
<b>Author</b>: Karen Harper<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: MIRA<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 384<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Romantic Suspense<br />
<b>Format</b>: Hardback, Paperback, Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Broken-Bonds-Creek-Karen-Harper/dp/0778317358/">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Haunted by the past…</span></b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Cold Creek is a place with a dark history, especially for
the Lockwoods. Now adults, the three Lockwood sisters are still recovering from
the events that led to the destruction of their family when they were children.
Determined to move forward, Tess and Kate are making fresh starts, ready to put
bad—even deadly—memories to rest and settle happily in the small but booming
town. And they're hoping their older sister, Charlene, can do the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Char is back in town seeking comfort as she figures out
her next move. A social worker used to difficult situations, she soon runs
afoul of some locals who think she's sticking her nose where it doesn't belong.
She's certain something sinister is being covered up, and when she witnesses
Matt Rowan being run off the road, she knows she's right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Working together, Matt and Char figure uncovering the
truth will be dangerous, but living in Cold Creek won't be safe for any of them
until its secrets are revealed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt # 1<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">As she made the next sharp
turn, Char gasped. A white truck with Lake Azure, Inc. painted on its side was
tipped nearly off the cliff, right where the school bus stopped for the kids
who lived above. She’d heard a horn honk long and loud a few minutes earlier.
Maybe the truck missed the last turn and spun out, since its rear, not its
front, was dangling over the edge, propped up by two trees. No other vehicle
was nearby to help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She put her emergency
blinkers on and pulled as close to the cliff face as she could. She jumped down
from her truck and ran across the road toward the truck. A man was inside!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“What should I do?” she
shouted, her voice shrill. It sounded like a stupid question. She had to get
the man out of his truck before it crashed over the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The bitter, strong wind
ripped at her hair and jacket. What if a blast of air tipped him off? Or maybe
even if he moved. She’d swear the two tree trunks that held his truck were
shaking as hard as she was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She could hear the engine
was still running. The driver opened an automatic window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“A guy in a truck shoved me
off,” he shouted. “Meant to. I don’t have any traction. I’m afraid if I shift
my weight or open a door to jump out, I’ll send it over.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The fact someone had done
this on purpose stunned her. What was going on? If her cell phone worked up
here, she’d call her brother-in-law, the county sheriff, for help, but she was
on her own. It wouldn’t help to go back up for help from Elinor and Penny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Don’t move until I get
something you can hang on to if the truck goes. I have some jump ropes I can
tie together. Those trees are shaky.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“<i>I’m </i>shaky. Hurry!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She ran to her truck and
knotted together the three jump ropes she had, tying square knots because she
knew they would hold. But she’d never be able to balance the man’s weight if
the truck went over the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“I’ve got ropes here, but
I’ll have to tie the end to a tree. I don’t dare drive close enough to you to
tie it to my truck. It would never stretch that far.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She knotted it around the
trunk of a pine tree that looked sturdy enough, though that almost took the
length of one rope. This wasn’t going to work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">A grinding sound, then a
crunch reverberated as the truck seemed to jerk once then settled closer to the
cliff edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Now or never!” he shouted
and opened his door fast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt # 2<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Matt grabbed her—almost
tackled her—and rolled them off the low concrete single step into the wet
leaves. He pulled her around the corner of the cabin, where they huddled, kneeling
with her pressed between him and the outside wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“I—I can’t believe that,”
she whispered. “We could have—could have been hit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“And I’m the common
denominator. Either someone’s been following me, looking for another chance at
me, or someone’s staked out your place, knowing we’re together.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">They were whispering in each
other’s ears. “The headlights made us the perfect target,” she said. “If we
hadn’t stepped apart…the arrow came head high, not chest level.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Either way it could have
killed one or both of us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She was not only scared but
furious. Someone had ruined her new place, ruined this beautiful night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Stay here,” he said. “I’m
going to get to the car, turn it around so the headlights shine into the trees
where the arrow must have come from. It’s sticking in the wood at an upward
angle—like it was shot from the sky. Probably just arced up, then hit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Should we call Gabe?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Not unless we spot someone.
My bet is we’ll find no one out there. And it’s late. Let’s give him a break
and call him in the morning. Tonight you can go down to stay in one of the
guest rooms at the lodge where—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“It’s my first night here!
I’m not running, even if some stupid hunter or even worse wants to scare me
off.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Char, just for the night!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“I’m not going to leave. I’m
going to get that arrow for evidence, tape up the hole and lock my doors.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Then I’m staying, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“I’ll sleep on the couch,
just in case.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“And if it’s you the
shooter’s after? That could have been the second attempt on your life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt # 3<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She started to get out until
she saw the driver of the truck was really covered up for the weather. She
could see through his windshield that he wore a ski mask, leaving only his eyes
visible. He climbed down and started toward her truck, holding up his hands as
if to apologize.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Could this be the man who
nearly ran Matt off the cliff?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She turned the ignition back
on, put the truck in Reverse, yanked the steering wheel and tried to back up to
get some maneuvering room, but she was held tight by the tree, and her wheels
spun. She laid on her horn, but saw no other vehicle on the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The man went back to his
truck and returned, holding a metal carjack, the kind needed to change a flat
tire. He walked now with swift, strong strides. She knew he was going to use it
to smash her window. Was this guy desperate or crazy? They were on a public
road in broad daylight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She waited until he came
close and raised the car jack. He hit the glass of the driver’s-side window,
which only cracked on the first blow. She had to do the unexpected and fast,
run for help. She’d seen a car parked at her childhood home if she could make
it there. She dug in her big purse for her phone. Too much in here—couldn’t
feel it. She had to go now or he’d have her!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In an instant, she unlocked
her doors, tried to grab her heavy purse, but he reached for it, too, yanked it
and tipped her toward him. She slid away from the steering wheel and clambered
out the other side, forced to leave the purse, the phone. She had no illusions
he just wanted the purse. She slipped to her knees in the ice-crusted snow,
then clawed her way up and raced toward the trees.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span>
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<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Karen-Harper-225x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Karen-Harper-225x300.jpg" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1969558921964931828" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">A <i>New York Times</i> and<i> USA Today</i> bestselling author, Karen Harper is a former college English instructor (The Ohio State University) and high school literature and writing teacher. A lifelong Ohioan, Karen and her husband Don divide their time between the midwest and the southeast, both locations she has used in her books. Besides her American settings, Karen loves the British Isles, where her Scottish and English roots run deep, and where she has set many of her historical Tudor-era mysteries and her historical novels about real and dynamic British women. Karen's books have been published in many foreign languages and she won the Mary Higgins Clark Award for 2005. Karen has given numerous talks to readers and writers across the county.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Her latest book is the romantic suspense, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Broken-Bonds-Creek-Karen-Harper/dp/0778317358/">Broken Bonds</a></i>, the third book in the Cold Creek Trilogy.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span><br />
<ul style="text-align: start;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Visit Karen Harper’s <a href="http://www.karenharperauthor.com/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Connect with Karen on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/KarenHarperAuthor">Facebook</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Find out more about Karen at <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17450.Karen_Harper">Goodreads</a>.</span></i></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Giveaway!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Karen Harris
is giving away 10 sets of the Cold Creek Trilogy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-10406704555979813392014-11-30T11:35:00.001-06:002014-11-30T11:35:49.934-06:00Margay Leah Justice: The Scent of Humanity - Wonderful Review!<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2014/11/the-scent-of-humanity-wonderful-review.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: The Scent of Humanity - Wonderful Review!</a>: Most Helpful Customer Reviews 4.0 out of 5 stars The Scent of Humanity October 30, 2014 By Jersey Girl Book Reviews / Jer...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-33333723199346689622014-11-26T06:26:00.001-06:002014-11-26T06:26:08.025-06:00Margay Leah Justice: Update: Release Day Blitz, Review and Giveaway: 'T...<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2014/11/release-day-blitz-and-giveaway-til.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: Update: Release Day Blitz, Review and Giveaway: 'T...</a>: Title: 'Til Death: Volume One Series: 'Til Death #1 Author: Bella Jewel Release Date: November 25 , 201...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-82523072087151305772014-11-03T08:30:00.000-06:002014-11-03T08:30:05.587-06:00Book Blitz: A Dead End in Vegas by Irene Woodbury<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/A-Dead-End-in-Vegas-banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/A-Dead-End-in-Vegas-banner.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/A-Dead-End-in-Vegas-2-197x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/A-Dead-End-in-Vegas-2-197x300.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Book Blurb:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">As Dave Sloan is leaving for the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Denver</st1:place></st1:city> airport to pick up his wife, Tricia,
the phone rings. It’s the cops in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Las
Vegas</st1:place></st1:city>. His wife
is dead. Her nude body was found that
morning in a hotel room at the Bellagio. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">Dave is stunned and devastated. He thought she was in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Phoenix</st1:place></st1:city> at a week-long teachers’
conference. A lie, of course, concocted
by Tricia, who flew to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Phoenix</st1:place></st1:city>,
then drove to Vegas to meet her Internet lover, the handsome, charming, and
very much married Joe Daggett of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Chicago</st1:place></st1:city>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">When Joe can’t join her, Tricia’s a mess. He calls a close friend, Al Posey, who lives
in Vegas, and asks him to take her to dinner.
Al and Tricia hit it off and wind up in bed. On Saturday morning, he walks out of her
hotel room at nine. Three hours later,
her lifeless body is found by a maid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;">A DEAD END IN VEGAS is a searing exploration of
how Tricia Sloan’s tragic, mysterious death shatters, and later transforms, the
lives of her family and friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<h3>
For More Information<o:p></o:p></h3>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><em>A Dead End in Vegas is
available at <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NCKEFSI">Amazon</a>.</em><em><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></li>
</ul>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt #1<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Slipping and sliding along Colorado 91 in the near
white-out, Randy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">looked in the rearview mirror and spotted a Colorado
Highway Patrol car. Sarah, who remembered every detail of the trip, told me
later that he panicked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Damn!” he cursed, pounding the steering wheel and
pointing behind<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">them. Sarah turned and saw the police cruiser; her eyes
widened and dazed. With her hand over her mouth, she made a sound part gasp, part
groan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“My dad must’ve called them,” Randy shrieked. “They’re
gonna take me in for armed robbery!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“No they won’t,” Sarah cried, gripping his arm. “We’ll be
in Leadville soon. They’ll never find us there. In a day or two, we’ll leave
for California. My Grandpa’s out there--he’ll help us!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Randy glanced over at her and nodded. He was now driving
as fast as he could, but in the rushing torrent of snow, visibility was
failing, and, at 10,000 feet, the old Subaru was suddenly wheezing as if for
breath. When Randy muttered something about engine trouble, Sarah buried her
head in her hands and started crying. He reached over and patted her leg. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">As they approached the farm community of Gage, 10 miles
outside of Leadville, the highway cops were still on their tail. A wave of
hopelessness and betrayal swept over Randy as he thought of his own father
calling the police to turn him in. But in fact, the cops’ presence had nothing
to do with Dave. It had to do with Randy’s reckless driving. He was swerving
wildly in and out of icy, snow-packed lanes, endangering his own life as well
as Sarah’s and everyone else’s on the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt #2<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In a state of exhaustion and panic, they stopped briefly
at a liquor store in tiny Bardsville. There Sarah loaded up on snacks and Randy
bought vodka with a fake ID. In the parking lot, blanketed with over a foot of
heavy, sodden snow, the two teens huddled in the freezing Subaru, scarfing down
Cheetos and Pop-Tarts. As she gulped milk from a quart-size carton, Sarah felt
queasy. A panic attack was coming on. When she told Randy, he stroked her hand,
took another swig of vodka from a half-pint wrapped in a brown paper bag, and
popped a couple more freshly stolen Dexedrine. Sarah stared at him, alarmed and
terrified, but also adoringly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">There was one more stop to make, but it had to be fast.
While Randy filled<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">the tank at a Conoco station, Sarah trudged through the
thick, frigid snow in her beige suede loafers to a distant, battered door
marked “Ladies.” Jerking it open, she gingerly stepped inside the filthy,
broken-down restroom. As she perched on the grimy toilet seat, blasts of frigid
air and snow sliced through a round hole in the door where the lock had been
ripped out. It took a while, but she finally stopped shaking long enough to pee
on a solid block of ice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Back on the road, with the snow coming down harder and
heavier, they maneuvered west toward Copper Mountain, the bustling ski resort
nestled in the Arapahoe National Forest.
Leadville, the old silver-mining town high in the central Rockies that
they were running to, was still a tortuous 23 miles distant, a 45-minute ride
in good weather, but much longer in this storm. At 10,000 feet it was a sullen,
slate-colored Victorian mining town with a rowdy past that was fondly known as
“the ice-box of Colorado.” A good place to hunker down in. No one would ask
questions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">They almost made it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt #3<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Dave interrupted Pam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Excuse me,” he said
sharply. “Your husband claimed the
suggestive e-mails were written by a hacker?
Who on earth could that be?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> “How should I know?” she snapped. “Maybe some<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">disgruntled student who didn’t like the grade
they got on a term paper, or a tech major trying to make a name for
himself. This is a college campus. There are always precocious students who are
bored with regular class-work and amuse themselves by hacking into professors’
e-mail accounts to make trouble. They
have some laughs over a few beers and move on to the next victim. It’s everyday life on a college campus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> Dave sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“So you’re telling me that
my wife was an Internet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">stalker, and the e-mails and photos came from
some student hacker?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Yes, that’s right,” she
confirmed with a nod. “My husband was
the victim, not the perpetrator.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Excuse me, Mrs. Daggett,
but I can’t sit here and listen to this garbage one more minute. Your husband is a liar!” Dave charged, rising from his chair and
grabbing his briefcase. He opened it
with a flourish and dumped the contents on her desk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt #4<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The shameful circumstances
of Tricia’s death left Dave unhinged and in shock. He thought he knew this woman, his own wife,
but he really didn’t. She was going
through a rough time, worse than any of us could have imagined. She felt lost in her marriage. She was devastated by Dave’s affair, but
didn’t want to leave him. He was the
only real security she’d ever known. But
she couldn’t see spending the rest of her life with him either. Her identity, and maybe even her sanity, were
at stake. The Internet affair with Joe
was a means of escape, a way to find some relief from the pain and confusion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Tricia had also just turned
50 and, for the first time in her life, felt insecure about her looks. I thought of the photos I had taken of her at
a picnic in the mountains last summer.
She kept begging me to take more because she couldn’t stand to see the
fine lines, tiny jowls, and strands of grey.
She had been a stunning girl, a teenage beauty queen, and now she was a
prisoner, in a sense, of her own midlife.
She was groping for some way to make sense of it, trying to protect
herself from the uncertainty of her future and a lack of confidence in her
past. That’s a pretty delicate,
treacherous place to be: uncertain about
your future, and full of doubts about your past. What kind of present do you have when you’re
wedged between those two?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Excerpt #5<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Seven o’clock came and
went. No phone call, and the snow
continued to fall. Dave was becoming
more and more desperate. Our old friend
and neighbor was losing it now, marching in small circles around the kitchen,
occasionally halting to pound the butchers’ block with a tightly clenched
fist. Outside, darkness had descended as
the wind howled and the storm tightened its grip. Lehigh Street was empty and forlorn, a frozen
tableau where nothing moved and an occasional flickering porch light was the
only sign of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Shortly before 10, I glanced
out the picture window, now nearly shrouded with ice, and made out what
appeared to be a pair of headlights inching ever so cautiously through the
drifts. I looked again and couldn’t
believe my eyes. A boxy, high-riding
vehicle, like a Jeep, had just turned and was heading down Dave’s driveway
toward us. Before we knew it, we heard
car doors slam and then the heavy thumping of boots on the porch steps. Two sets of them. And then the harsh, grating sound of the
doorbell. Two long, sharp buzzes, like a
dentist’s drill. The shrill buzzing cut
through the house and brought us all to attention. In this weather, at this hour, who could it
be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">About the Author:</span></b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">Irene Woodbury’s second novel, A DEAD END
IN VEGAS, is a dark, probing look at marriage, infidelity, revenge, and
grief. Immersing herself in drama and
dysfunction for months on end was a challenge for this upbeat author, whose
first book, the humor novel A SLOT MACHINE ATE MY MIDLIFE CRISIS, was published
by SynergEbooks in 2011. At first
glance, the two novels seem quite different, but both deal with midlife
confusion and chaos, and the complexities and unpredictable nature of the human
heart. And both, of course, are
partially set in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Las Vegas</st1:place></st1:city>,
a city Irene got to know well during her years as a travel writer. Between 2000 and 2005, her stories appeared
in major newspapers in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
<st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Canada</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
and <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place>. Irene, who graduated from the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">University</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Houston</st1:placename></st1:place> in 1993, lives in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Denver</st1:place></st1:city> with her husband,
Richard, a retired correspondent for Time Magazine who edited both of her
novels. The couple miss traveling, but,
after two novels, Irene insists there’s no greater journey than the one into
your own heart and mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For More Information</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Visit Irene Woodbury's <a href="http://www.irenewoodbury.com/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Connect with Irene on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/irene.woodbury.5">Facebook </a>and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/IreneWoodbury">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank you for hosting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-61558135435490233352014-10-15T21:39:00.001-05:002014-10-15T21:39:30.196-05:00The Writer's Life eMagazine: Interview with Margay Leah Justice: 'Write the sto...<a href="http://thewriterslife.blogspot.com/2014/10/interview-with-margay-leah-justice.html?spref=bl">The Writer's Life eMagazine: Interview with Margay Leah Justice: 'Write the sto...</a>: Descended from the same bloodline that spawned the likes of James Russell, Amy and Robert Lowell, Margay Leah Justice was fated to be...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-11379261356973130402014-10-15T21:35:00.001-05:002014-10-15T21:35:44.524-05:00The Literary Nook: Character Interview: Nick Fahey from Margay Leah J...<a href="http://theliterarynook.blogspot.com/2014/10/character-interview-nick-fahey-from.html?spref=bl">The Literary Nook: Character Interview: Nick Fahey from Margay Leah J...</a>: We’re thrilled to have here today Nick Fahey from Margay Leah Justice’s romantic suspense, The Scent of Humanity. He’s coming to us...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-36921775345238113942014-10-14T08:00:00.000-05:002014-10-14T08:00:06.779-05:00Virtual Book Tour: Fallen by Leslie Tentler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">: Fallen<br />
<b>Author</b>: Leslie Tentler<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Left Field Press<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 396<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Romantic Suspense<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fallen-Leslie-Tentler-ebook/dp/B00NQERJF6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1412208559&sr=8-2&keywords=leslie+tentler">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">“If it wasn’t an armed robbery, it was a hit. An
execution.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Amid a sultry <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:city> summer, someone
is targeting police…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">The investigation becomes
personal for APD Detective Ryan Winter when a colleague and friend is shot
dead, the second victim in just weeks. But even as he finds himself being drawn
into the tense hunt for a serial cop killer, he is forced to re-examine his own
shattering personal tragedy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">An ER physician at <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:city>’s busy <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Mercy</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>,
Dr. Lydia Costa is no stranger to suffering. Still, the recent police slayings
reopen barely healed wounds—and bring her face-to-face with her ex-husband,
Ryan Winter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">As the body count rises
and paranoia tightens its grip on the police force, <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Lydia</st1:place></st1:country-region> and Ryan are pulled together
by circumstances and fate…causing old passions to reignite despite their
painful shared past. But as Ryan moves closer to discovering the killer’s
identity, someone is watching, placing both him and <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Lydia</st1:place></st1:country-region> in mortal danger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<h2 style="line-height: 150%;">
<span lang="X-NONE" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“GSW,
two minutes out!” Jamaal Reeves made the booming announcement from behind the
ER admittance desk at Mercy Hospital. His words put medical personnel on alert,
including Dr. Lydia Costa, who stood in the jaundiced glow of the light box,
reviewing chest films for an eighty-two-year-old with suspected pneumonia.<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“It’s a ten-double-zero,
people,” he added, using police code that over time had slipped into the level
one trauma center’s vernacular. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Officer
down. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">A momentary hush fell over the
staff before the beehive of activity resumed, leaving only <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Lydia</st1:place></st1:country-region> frozen.
Gunshot wounds were always nasty injuries, but it was the ten-double-zero that
caused anxiety to pool in her stomach. There were hundreds of police inside the
city, she reminded herself. Still, leaving the X-ray hanging, she shouldered
her way through the scrubs-clad crowd. Reaching Jamaal’s desk, she asked, “What
else do you know about the incoming?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He slurped from a
Varsity cup. “Multiple bullets to the chest and abdomen, intubated by
paramedics on scene—” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Do you have a
name? A precinct?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“What? Uh,
uh—didn’t ask.” Jamaal shrugged, his eyes returning to the stack of paperwork
in front of him, information forms for the three dozen or so coughing, vomiting
or otherwise miserable-looking people who waited in rows of vinyl-covered
chairs for treatment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Plainclothes, though,” he
murmured as an afterthought, scribbling directives onto one of the forms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Lydia</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"> felt her knees weaken. Still,
her inner voice spoke to her, pointing out that she was one of the attendings
on a busy Friday night. She moved briskly toward the automated, sliding glass
doors that led inside from the ambulance bay, joining the assembling team and
preparing to take charge of whatever faced her with the paramedics’ arrival. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Get trauma room three set up,”
she ordered, raising her voice to be heard above the din. “We’re going to need
an echocardiogram. Have a crash cart and thoracotomy set ready.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">All the while, a mantra
repeated inside her head. It was more like a prayer, if she believed in such
things. She used to, but didn’t anymore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Please
don’t let it be him. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Fallen is available at <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fallen-Leslie-Tentler-ebook/dp/B00NQERJF6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1412208559&sr=8-2&keywords=leslie+tentler"><span style="font-style: normal;">Amazon</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></em></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1973721-fallen-by-leslie-tentler">Goodreads</a>.</span></i></li>
</ul>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpF3guVK6hkTS3dGcai0i8SR_zQHdLWuZZfrarxu8KhgDa2AWqCmT2HsZhxrw2BxQo8ehoNVN26ZLHhFvm1l2TWMWr7hWb4RxNUgRuo3XHBso-uZwrDvReYCV8v6VFxF5jcpydGMt8BzI/s1600/Leslie+Tentler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpF3guVK6hkTS3dGcai0i8SR_zQHdLWuZZfrarxu8KhgDa2AWqCmT2HsZhxrw2BxQo8ehoNVN26ZLHhFvm1l2TWMWr7hWb4RxNUgRuo3XHBso-uZwrDvReYCV8v6VFxF5jcpydGMt8BzI/s1600/Leslie+Tentler.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Leslie Tentler is best known as the author of the Chasing Evil Trilogy (<st1:time hour="0" minute="0" w:st="on">MIDNIGHT</st1:time> CALLER, <st1:time hour="0" minute="0" w:st="on">MIDNIGHT</st1:time> FEAR and EDGE OF <st1:time hour="0" minute="0" w:st="on">MIDNIGHT</st1:time>). She was named as a finalist for Best First Novel at ThrillerFest 2012 for Midnight Caller, and as a finalist in the 2013 Daphne du Maurier Awards for Excellence in Mystery and Suspense for Edge of Midnight. She is also the recipient of the prestigious Maggie Award of Excellence. Her newest romantic suspense novel is titled FALLEN.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Leslie is a member of Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, The Authors Guild and Novelists, Inc. A native of <st1:place w:st="on">East Tennessee</st1:place>, she currently resides in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:city>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Her latest book is the romantic suspense, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fallen-Leslie-Tentler-ebook/dp/B00NQERJF6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1412208559&sr=8-2&keywords=leslie+tentler">Fallen</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="en-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: #0400;"></span></div>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Leslie Tentler’s <a href="http://www.leslietentler.com/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Connect with Leslie on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/leslietentler">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/leslie_tentler">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Leslie’s <a href="http://www.leslietentler.com/#!blog/c1ktv">blog</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">More <a href="http://www.leslietentler.com/#!books/cnec">books</a> by Leslie Tentler.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sign up for Leslie’s <a href="http://www.leslietentler.com/#!newsletter-/csfj">newsletter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.leslietentler.com/#!contact/c1kcz">Contact</a> Leslie.</span></i></li>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank you for hosting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Email: </span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="mailto:thewriterslife@gmail.com"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">thewriterslife@gmail.com</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-53725621990576704572014-10-10T11:06:00.001-05:002014-10-10T11:06:20.611-05:00Margay Leah Justice: Book Blitz and Giveaway: Status by J.A. Huss<a href="http://margayleahjustice.blogspot.com/2014/10/book-blitz-and-giveaway-status-by-ja.html?spref=bl">Margay Leah Justice: Book Blitz and Giveaway: Status by J.A. Huss</a>: STATUS (Social Media #4) By @JAHuss Publication Date: October 8, 2014 Novella (115ish pages) Adult Contemporary Romance Sy...Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-38823305482661840602014-10-08T06:30:00.000-05:002014-10-08T06:30:02.385-05:00Virtual Book Tour: To the Breaking Pointe by Cindy McDonald<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">: To the Breaking Pointe<br />
<b>Author</b>: Cindy McDonald<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Acorn Book Services<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 250<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Romantic Suspense<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Pointe-First-Force-Book-ebook/dp/B00NJC3C4M/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411338903&sr=1-1&keywords=to+the+breaking+pointe+mcdonald">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 16pt;">Pushed to the breaking pointe!<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Five years ago First
Force operative, Grant Ketchum, let the ballerina of his dreams dance right of
his life. Silja Ramsay returned to her birthplace, <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region>, to take the position of
principal dancer for the Novikov Ballet Company.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The owner and director
of the ballet company, Natalia Novikov, has a dark secret: her beloved ballet
company is almost broke. Natalia forces her dancers to prostitute themselves to
financial contributors at exclusive after-show parties. Silja has been exempt
and kept in the dark about the parties—until an American financier offers to
bail the failing ballet company out. His prerequisite: Silja must become his
personal companion, live in his home, and fulfill his every desire. Against her
will, Silja is taken to the American's mansion, but before she goes she manages
to send a text to the only man who can save her, Grant: HELP!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Now Grant is on a
mission to find his lost ballerina and rescue her from this powerful man's
subjugation. He will do anything to get her out alive. If they survive, will he
let her chasse out of his life again?<b><i> <o:p></o:p></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Where is Silja?” Ballard
Crafton asked Natalia as he searched the reception room in the basement of the
theatre. The room wasn’t particularly large, yet it was quite elegant with red
velvet swags hung in the archways, gilded crown moldings, and crystal
chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A bar was set up in one corner while a
violinist played softly in another. The room was filled with men, a few older
women, and most of the dancers from the Novikov Ballet Company. Only one dancer
in particular was missing... Silja Ramsay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Natalia picked up her glass of
wine from the bar. “Silja is not ready to attend our little soiree yet. She
hasn’t been informed of my... financial situation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ballard pulled a bracelet from
his suit jacket. “Silja doesn’t like diamonds?” Natalia huffed at the sight of
the bracelet that she thought she had convinced Silja to keep. He continued,
“She had this returned to me by messenger this afternoon. Doesn’t she...don’t <i>you</i>
understand just how wealthy I am?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Natalia took a sip of her
cabernet. “She still believes in love, Ballard—“<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I <i>am</i> in love with her!”
he bellowed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Taken aback by the sudden
outburst, the crowd hushed, looking in their direction. Natalia forced a laugh,
waving her hands carelessly at the crowd. She spoke to them in Russian,
“Mingle, mingle, get to know our beautiful dancers.” With hesitant glances at
Ballard, the crowd returned to their conversations. The women in attendance ran
their hands up and down the male dancers’ muscled arms, while the men flirted
mercilessly with the ballerinas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“You told me that she would be
here tonight, Natalia.” Ballard said, more hushed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“As always, there are plenty of
lovely ballerinas here to choose from this evening, Ballard. Forget Silja for
now. I will keep working to make her come around. She still... how do you
say... <i>pines</i> for another.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Who?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“I do not know this. Be
patient. Pick another for this evening. Here...” Natalia gestured to the
bartender. He retrieved a box from behind the bar. Natalia took the box and
offered it to Ballard. Lifting a brow, she said, “You may have first pick
tonight, yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“No. I am tired of spending
time with ballerinas that I don’t want. I only fantasize that she is Silja. <i>I
want Silja</i>!” Ballard said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Natalia set the box on the bar.
Slowly she dragged her gaze to meet his. He was like a spoiled child who had
not received the gift that he desired on Christmas morning. No, he was
worse—much worse. Finally she decided to put Ballard Crafton in his place. “I
am quite aware of what it is that you want, Ballard. But I must wonder...will
Silja meet the same fate as your other lovers?” His eyes widened in raw
indignation, except Natalia did not allow his glare to dissuade her. “The opera
singer from <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state>
who no longer sings—instead she sits in a home with head injuries so severe
that she can barely speak, or the concert pianist whose fingers are now
crippled from the hammer that was used on them? What could these women have
done to make you so angry, Ballard? What kind of monster lies within? I am
desperate to save The Novikov Ballet Company, this is true. But I won’t let you
destroy a beautiful dancer in her prime. How do you Americans say...we
understand each other, yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Ballard’s hands curled into
fists of righteous agitation. The red flush started above the Armani tie that
he wore around his neck and crept to his cheeks. He spun on his heels and
marched out of the gathering.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Letting out a relieved breath,
Natalia looked into the box which was filled with pointe shoes. Each shoe had
the signature of the dancer from the Novikov Company to whom it had belonged.
Her nerves tightened the knot in her stomach and shame swelled in her chest.
She took another long drink of the wine, and then she managed a faux smile for
the crowd, who anxiously anticipated the beginning of the evening’s event.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Natalia called out in Russian,
“Who will be first to choose a pair of shoes tonight?” She held the box up
high, shaking it. “Edvar! Where is Edvar?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">From the far corner of the room
the ballet company’s dance instructor and choreographer, Edvar Kozlovski,
brushed his fingers through ballet dancer Dominik Potrovic’s hair. After a
whispered promise of return, he raised his hand calling back in their native
Russian, “Here I am! Are you ready, Natalia?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">The crowd buzzed with
excitement. The dancers exchanged nervous glances. All eyes were on Natalia.
She said, “Yes! Who is our highest bidder this evening? Who will get first pick
of the shoes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Edvar fished a paper from the
pocket of his jacket, and then he announced, “Ballard Crafton!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Everyone searched the room
waiting for Ballard to come forward to choose a shoe for his evening of sultry
delight, with the ballerina whose name was on the shoe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Natalia shook her head. “No. He
had to leave. Who is the second?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Edvar squinted in a big show of
reading the next name on the list. He proclaimed, “Belsky!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">From the back of the crowd, a
tubby man merrily trotted forward to where Natalia stood. He could barely
contain his excitement. He danced in place from one foot to the other. The
ballerinas were now exchanging curled lips of derision hoping that he would not
pull their shoe from the box. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">He wiggled his fingers in
anticipation of what lovely, well-toned ballerina would be his for the night.
Belsky reached into the box and snatched a pair of worn European pink pointe
shoes. The crowd tensed waiting for a name to be called as he handed the shoe
to Natalia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">“Anna Antkowiak!” Natalia
called out. The young girl from <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Poland</st1:place></st1:country-region>
shoulders drooped. Her face dropped. She was the newest member of the company.
She hadn’t signed on for this. She had heard whispers among the dancers that
Natalia’s ballet company was almost broke and about the after-performance
requirements: prostituting the dancers for contributions to keep the ballet
company above water. Tonight was her fist time to be summoned by Natalia to the
contributors’ party. She could barely breathe as she watched Belsky’s eyes
scanning the crowd for her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Locking eyes with the innocent
girl, Natalia crooked her index finger at the ballerina to come forward to
claim her date. Trepidation filled Anna’s face. Her stomach twisted into a tangle
of knots as she looked at the other dancers, who silently urged her to do as
Natalia requested. When Anna suddenly noticed the bulge in Belsky’s trousers,
she kept her head bowed, as she slowly crept through the crowd. Belsky grabbed
her by the hand to hurry her out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -27.35pt; text-indent: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Natalia clapped her hands.
“Another happy contributor to the Novikov Ballet Company! I’m sure Anna will
make his night!” She shook the box again. “Who will be next to choose, Edvar?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<h3>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To the Breaking Pointe is available at <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Pointe-First-Force-Book-ebook/dp/B00NJC3C4M/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411338903&sr=1-1&keywords=to+the+breaking+pointe+mcdonald"><span style="font-style: normal;">Amazon</span></a>.</span></em><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1990160-to-the-breaking-pointe-by-cindy-mcdonald">Goodreads</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Cindy-McDonald-239x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Cindy-McDonald-239x300.jpg" /></a></div>
<b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For twenty-six years Cindy’s life whirled around a song and a dance: she was a professional dancer/choreographer for most of her adult life and never gave much thought to a writing career until 2005. She often notes: Don’t ask me what happened, but suddenly I felt drawn to my computer to write about things I have experienced (greatly exaggerated upon of course—I’ve never been murdered!) with my husband’s Thoroughbreds and happenings at the racetrack. Viola! Cindy’s first book series, <i>Unbridled</i>, was born—there are four books to that series so far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cindy is a huge fan of romantic suspense series, and although she isn’t one to make New Year’s resolutions, on New Year’s Day 2013 she made a commitment to write one<i>, <b>Into the Crossfire</b></i> is the first book for her new series, <b><i>First Force</i></b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">People are always asking Cindy: do you miss dance? With a bitter sweet smile on her lips she tells them: Sometimes I do. I miss my students. I miss choreographing musicals, but I <i>love</i> my books, and I love sharing them with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Her latest book is the romantic suspense, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Pointe-First-Force-Book-ebook/dp/B00NJC3C4M/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411338903&sr=1-1&keywords=to+the+breaking+pointe+mcdonald">To the Breaking Pointe</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Cindy McDonald’s <a href="http://www.cindymcwriter.com/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Connect with Cindy on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/cindy.s.mcdonald.3">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/cindymcdonald7">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Cindy on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/TheUnbridledSeries?feature=watch">YouTube</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Contact <a href="http://www.cindymcwriter.com/about-cindy.html">Cindy</a>.</span></i></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank you for hosting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Dorothy Thompson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Pump Up Your Book<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:address w:st="on"><st1:street w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">P.O. Box</span></st1:street><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> 643</span></st1:address><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Chincoteague Island</span></st1:city><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, <st1:state w:st="on">Virginia</st1:state> <st1:postalcode w:st="on">23336</st1:postalcode></span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-84287362716497234342014-10-07T06:00:00.000-05:002014-10-07T06:00:07.645-05:00Virtual Book Tour: A Wedding and a Killing by Lauren Carr<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Felix Titling"; font-size: 24.0pt;">A Wedding
and a Killing </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">: A Wedding and a Killing<br />
<b>Author</b>: Lauren Carr<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Acorn Book Services<br />
<b>Genre: </b>Mystery<br />
<b>Format</b>: Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wedding-Killing-Faraday-Mystery-Book-ebook/dp/B00MQESTYC/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1411260613&sr=8-3&keywords=lauren+carr">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">When Mac Faraday decides to do
something, there’s no stopping him … even murder! <br />
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Not wanting to wait until their big day to start their life of wedded bliss,
Mac Faraday and his lady love, Archie Monday, decide to elope to the little
church where his ancestors had all married—along the tranquil <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">shore</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Deep</st1:placename></st1:place>
Creek <st1:place w:st="on">Lake</st1:place>. However, before they can say, “I
do,” the sanctuary erupts into chaos when Gnarly finds a dead body in the
church office. <br />
<br />
As they dive into the investigation, Mac and his team discover more questions
than answers. What kind of person walks into a church and shoots a man for no
apparent reason? How do you solve the murder of a man who has no enemies in the
world? Which of the seemingly kind-hearted church members is really a
cold-blooded killer? <br />
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Then, there is the all-important question, how long do Mac Faraday and his lady
love have to wait to get married?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span></b>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I get why we invited David and Chelsea,” Mac
Faraday told Archie while staring up into his Audi SUV’s rear view mirror.
“They’re our witnesses. Molly is coming because she’s Chelsea’s service dog, so
she has to be here. What I’m having trouble understanding is why we invited
him.” long whine came from the back seat of Mac’s black SUV. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Archie Monday, the love of Mac’s life, turned
around in her seat to look back at Gnarly. His tall ears rested back flat
against his head. The German shepherd focused his attention on the church
building belonging to the parking lot where they were waiting. “Mac, Gnarly’s a
member of the family and I want him to be here. This is the most important day
in our lives and we can’t not include him. It’d be like leaving our son at home
while we were joined in holy matrimony.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I did not sire him,” Mac said. “I inherited him
from my birth mother, who had adopted him. So, if anything, he’s my brother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Well, if you’re going to look at it that way,”
Archie said, “if your half-brother David can be at our wedding, then your
adopted brother should be allowed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Once again, Gnarly uttered a low whine that grew in
volume until it crescendoed into a loud bark. Turning away from the window,
Gnarly climbed across the center console to get up into the front seats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Oh, yeah, this is going to be a nice little
ceremony,” Mac muttered while pushing against the hundred pounds of fur and
claws depositing hair and drool on his new shirt and khaki slacks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Gnarly, what’s wrong with you?” Archie grabbed
Gnarly’s collar to pull him back, but he was too strong. “You’re getting dog
hair all over my dress.” Desperately, she tried to brush Gnarly’s black and tan
fur off her white outfit. Dark strands clung to the lacy overlay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Refusing to back down, Gnarly wedged his body in
between the steering wheel and Mac.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Gnarly, I’m going to kill you!” To save the seat
upholstery from Gnarly’s sharp claws, Mac threw open the door. The German
shepherd was in such a hurry to get out that he didn’t give his master a chance
to escape before plowing over Mac to send him out the door and flat on his back
on the pavement. Landing on all fours at a full sprint, the dog charged across the
parking lot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Oh, dear Lord!” Archie threw open her door and ran
to the driver’s side where Mac was sprawled spread-eagle on the ground. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Turning his police chief cruiser into the parking
lot, David O’Callaghan slammed on the brakes to keep from hitting Gnarly as the
dog darted up to the church’s main entrance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">He was still catching his breath when Chelsea
pointed to where Archie, clad in a white summer dress, was kneeling next to
Mac. “Did he have a heart attack?” Without waiting for him to park, she unclipped
her seatbelt and jumped out of the cruiser to run over to Archie and Mac. Molly
leapt out after her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Gnarly was running back and forth in front of the
church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Mac, are you okay?” Archie begged while clutching
his hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Concerned for the fallen man, Molly was sniffing
Mac all over in search of some way she could offer her service.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Chelsea knelt next to him as well. “What happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Gnarly,” Archie answered her before turning back
to Mac, who was trying to sit up onto his elbows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“What’s going on?” David demanded of them. “Do I
need to call for an ambulance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I don’t know. He’s not saying anything.” Chelsea
urged Molly to stop sniffing and lie down. “Mac, did you hit your head? Why
don’t you say something?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Because,” Mac shot Archie a glare, “the only thing
I can think to say right now, I can’t say in front of ladies and on church
property.” He accepted David’s offer of his hand and rose to his feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Maybe Gnarly’s nervous because he thought you
brought him here for an exorcism,” David joked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Protestants don’t do exorcisms,” Chelsea
responded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Actually, some do,” a feminine voice countered
from behind them. “The Church of England does as a matter of fact.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Archie rushed over to hug the woman parking her
bicycle in the bike rack. During the melee, they had not noticed her enter the
parking lot via the bike path along the lake.
“So Archie Monday is finally getting married,” she said. “I guess since
I’m the one doing the ceremony, you should introduce me to the lucky guy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Of course.” Beaming, Archie led her over to where
Mac was waiting with David and Chelsea. “Mac, I’d like you to meet Reverend
Deborah Hess. She’s the pastor here at Spencer Church.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">A few years older than Archie, Deborah Hess did not
look like a church pastor. Having grown up a Catholic, Mac had expected a
Protestant version of a nun</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">—an older woman who avoided
cosmetics or anything that would be considered glamourous. In comparison to the
Catholic nuns he had known as a child, Deborah was slender with silky chestnut
colored hair that fell to her shoulders and was dressed in a vibrant turquoise
pantsuit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">The reverend took Mac’s hand into a firm grip and
smiled at him. “Mac Faraday. Your mother was a dear friend of mine. It is a
pleasure to meet you.” She studied his face. “You have her smile.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“My mother came to church?” Mac asked her before
jokingly adding, “I didn’t know you let murder mystery writers in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I’ve read all of your mother’s books,” the pastor
said. “Robin Spencer brought Archie here after hiring her as her research assistant
and editor. The Spencer family has a long history with us. Your ancestors built
our original chapel and started this church well over a hundred years ago. Your
grandparents and most of your ancestors on the Spencer side were married here.
They have always been big supporters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“That’s why I insisted on us getting married here,”
Archie said. “It’s what Robin Spencer would have wanted.” She turned to the
pastor. “Since Mac only inherited his birth mother’s estate a few years ago,
he’s still learning about his family history.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I don’t know if you heard about Robin’s story,”
Mac said. “She had me out of wedlock when she was an unwed teenager. My
adoptive parents had told me that I was adopted, but I didn’t know who my birth
parents were until after Robin Spencer’s death and she had left her estate to
me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I can imagine what an adjustment a lifestyle
change like that can be for a homicide detective,” Deborah said, “to suddenly
come into an unbelievable fortune from a world famous murder mystery writer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“At least he now knows where his talent for solving
mysteries come from,” Archie said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“What about your birth father?” Deborah asked. “Do
you know about him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Mac and David exchanged a long glance. Their
identical blue eyes, inherited from their father, met. If Deborah looked
closely at them, she would have noticed that the two men had the same tall
slender build and attractive features. Years older, Mac had dark hair,
inherited from his birth mother, while David’s hair matched that of his birth
mother, the late Patrick O’Callaghan’s wife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“He passed away before I could meet him,” Mac said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I’m so sorry,” the pastor said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“So am I.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Well,” Deborah said, “I knew your mother quite
well, and I can tell you that she was a woman of strong faith. She always strove
to be more committed to this church, and we could always count on her support
when we needed it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Archie went on to introduce Chelsea and David, who
reminded Deborah that they had met a few times before at various community
events.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Let’s go inside and I’ll show you around,” Deborah
said. “Then we’ll do the ceremony. I don’t know if Archie told you, Mac, but
it’s my policy not to marry couples unless they have three counseling sessions
with me beforehand. However, since you are Robin’s son, and Archie assures me
that you will have the formal ceremony in December, then I’ve agreed to do this
on the condition that you have your three sessions before the big wedding.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Mac fired off a glare in Archie’s direction. “No,
she neglected to tell me that.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Taking a set of keys out of her pocket, Deborah
turned around and then paused when she noticed a green sedan parked under a
tree in the corner of the parking lot. “Eugene’s here</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">—” She gasped. “Oh, that’s right. He told me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Someone’s inside?” Mac asked. “I would have
thought with all the barking that he would have come out to see what the ruckus
was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Eugene is the head of our trustees,” Deborah
explained while leading them to the front door. “He’s here to count the
offering. Since this past Sunday was Memorial Day weekend, no one wanted to
stick around and the banks were closed yesterday. Eugene told me that he was
coming in today to get the bank deposit ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">When she stuck the key in the lock, Gnarly tore
around the corner of the building. As soon as she had opened the door a crack,
he charged inside before anyone could step in. Barking and crying, he raced
down the hallway of the office wing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“What’s gotten into him?” David asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“He must think Eugene is a burglar,” Archie said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“More likely Gnarly is wanting to steal the cash to
buy a new bone for himself,” Mac said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Molly isn’t acting bonkers,” David said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Rub it in,” Mac muttered to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Just saying,” David replied. “If that trustee is
counting money, that racket is surely going to throw his calculations off.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Gnarly was up on his hind legs digging at an office
door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Get off the door!” Mac shouted at him while
storming down the hallway to grasp Gnarly by the collar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Oh, that’s not going to throw off his count,”
David said with sarcasm. “The guy’s probably afraid to come out because he
thinks Gnarly is going to eat his face.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Eugene doesn’t like dealing with the public.”
Deborah giggled. “The last time he answered the door, it was a church member
who broke down into hysterics because she wanted a divorce. She got tears and
snot all over his shirt. He had to throw it away and swore never again. When
he’s here, he doesn’t answer the door or the phone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Gnarly yanked and pulled away from Mac until he got
out of his collar and went back to the door. Whimpering, he plopped down onto
the floor while gazing from the door back to Mac and then back again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Maybe we should knock on the door and apologize to
him,” Chelsea said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Eugene is extremely focused on his tasks,” Deborah
said. “Best to leave him alone.” She waved for them to follow her. “Let’s go
into the sanctuary. I’ll show you around and we can get started.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Mac tossed Gnarly’s collar down the hall to where
he was lying in front of the door. The dog looked dejected. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Come on, Gnarly,” Archie called to him. “Don’t you
want to see your daddy and me get married?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“That animal did not come from my loins,” Mac said
in a low voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Ignoring his comment, Archie took Mac’s hand and
led him across the fellowship hall to the double glass doors that opened into a
spacious sanctuary with a cedar paneled cathedral ceiling with log beams across
the width. The wall behind the pulpit was made of stone at the base of which
rested the baptismal pool.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I always thought this was the prettiest church in
Spencer,” Chelsea said while squeezing David’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“You should see it when the sanctuary is lit and
the waterfall flowing down the rocks down to the baptismal pool is turned on,”
Archie gushed to Mac. “It’s going to be a lovely wedding.” She told Deborah,
“We’re going to have an evening ceremony on New Year’s Eve, and want to say our
vows right before midnight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Deborah sighed. “It will be lovely, but I’m afraid
we won’t be able to use the waterfall.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Archie’s face fell. “Why not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“It’s broken,” the pastor explained. “Two years
ago. The plumbing is thirty years old and has to be completely replaced and we
don’t have the funds to have it rebuilt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Oh, I really had my heart set on the waterfall and
candles,” Archie said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Molly whimpered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">As if to voice Archie’s disappointment, Gnarly
howled from where he was still in the office wing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Mac cringed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Do you want me to put Gnarly in the car?” David
asked him in a low voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Mac was more concerned with the disappointment on
his bride’s face. “How much will it cost to replace the waterfall?” he asked
Deborah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Several thousand dollars,” she replied. “They’ll
have to take out the stone to get back to the pipes and</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I’ll pay for it,” Mac interrupted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Archie’s eyes lit up and she tightened her grip on
his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Willingham says I need more tax deductions,” Mac
said with a shrug of his shoulders. “If you want a waterfall at our wedding,
then we’re going to have a waterfall. We’re only getting married twice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Oh, we would be most grateful, Mr. Faraday.” The
smile on Deborah’s face stretched from ear to ear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Call me Mac.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Well, Mac,” she said while trying to contain her
excitement over the sudden donation, “let’s get you two kids married, and then
we can discuss the particulars of your formal wedding ceremony in December.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Archie turned serious. “Deborah, there is one thing
that we need to make clear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“What’s that?” Deborah looked from her to Mac and
then to David and Chelsea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“No one is to know about us getting married.”
Archie grasped Mac’s hand. “You haven’t met my mother …”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“No, I haven’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Well,” Archie paused, “if she found out that Mac
and I eloped and got married six months before the wedding</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">—without her being there … well, she’d—things could get ugly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Deborah’s eyebrows rose. “Ugly?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I’m the only girl out of seven kids and the
youngest,” Archie said. “I’m their only shot for a big, fancy wedding for their
little girl. My mother will feel like I cheated her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Then why are you not waiting?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Because we want to get married,” Mac squeezed
Archie’s hand. “We’ve been together for three years and we don’t want to wait
any longer to be husband and wife.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Deborah looked Archie up and down. She cocked an
eyebrow at her. “Are you pregnant?” she finally asked in a whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“No!” Archie’s nostrils flared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Okay,” Deborah said. “I understand. We’ll do the
ceremony and mum will be the word.” She whirled around and gestured toward the
pulpit. “Let’s get this show on the road.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Mac and David followed her down the aisle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">When Chelsea stepped forward, Archie stopped her
with a hand on her elbow. “Do I look pregnant?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Of course not.” Chelsea grabbed her by the arm and
ushered her to the front of the sanctuary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">The reverend was instructing them each where to
stand when one of the double doors opened leading into the sanctuary opened. A
tall slender woman dressed in faded jeans, sneakers, and an oversized t-shirt
stepped inside. “Miss Deborah, there’s a police cruiser out front. Is
everything okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“That’s mine,” David said. “It’s okay. We’re here
for personal business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I was just wondering,” she went on, “because
there’s a big ol’ German shepherd sitting outside Eugene’s office and he
doesn’t look happy. I offered him a dog biscuit from Edna’s jar but he’d have
none of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“What’s with the jar with dog biscuits?” Mac asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Our office manager has a dog biscuit jar for
canine visitors,” Deborah replied before turning her attention to the woman at
the back of the sanctuary. “Thank you, Ruth. Everything is okay. I’ll be
through here in a little bit and they’ll be taking Gnarly with them when they
go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Gnarly turned down food?” Archie covered her mouth
with her hand. “That’s not like him at all.” She grasped Mac’s hand. “Something
must be wrong.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Maybe he doesn’t approve of our getting married.”
Mac asked the pastor, “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave him as payment
for your services?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Stop it, Mac,” Archie admonished him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Ruth stepped out into the fellowship hall and
craned her neck to look out the window. “Edna just pulled in,” she called to
them. “She’s great with dogs. She’ll be able to figure out why he’s so upset
and make him feel better real fast.” She went off toward the foyer and business
wing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Seconds later, Gnarly’s barks could be heard in the
sanctuary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Let’s just get this over with,” Mac told Deborah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“That sounds romantic,” Archie retorted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I’m not the one who broke the mood,” Mac argued.
“You did by insisting that we bring that beast hog with us to the church to get
married.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Gnarly is not a beast hog.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“He’s got a criminal record,” Mac said. “Just ask
David. That dog is a canine delinquent.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Don’t drag me into your squabble.” David held up
both hands in surrender.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Deborah interrupted, “This is why I insist on
counseling before the marriage ceremony.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Oh, shut up,” Mac blurted out before he realized
what he was saying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">There was an audible gasp in the sanctuary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">As if he feared getting caught in a cross-fire,
David backed away from Mac. “Now you’ve done it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Deborah leveled her eyes on the couple standing
before her. “I think we need to reschedule this ceremony. It just doesn’t seem
right.” The pastor’s previously congenial tone had shifted to firm and
commanding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Nothing about this is right,” Mac said. “Nothing
has been right since I pulled into your parking lot and that animal trampled
me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Are you still mad about that?” Archie said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Mac, you really need to learn to let things go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Gnarly’s barking had stopped, but Mac and Archie
were too involved in their argument to notice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I took the afternoon off work to be here,” Chelsea
said. “Are you two going to get married or aren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“I know that I don’t want to get married to the
sound of that in the background.” Mac jerked his head in the direction of the
business wing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Noticing that Gnarly’s barking and howling had
stopped, David asked, “Sound of what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Abruptly, the double doors flew open and a woman
came running in. Her face was stark white and her eyes were filled with shock.
Once inside the sanctuary, she stopped. Her mouth hung open while she gazed
wide-eyed at each of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">“Edna?” Deborah asked. “What’s wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Clutching both hands to her chest, Edna sucked in
several deep breaths. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Wondering if the woman was having a heart attack,
Mac and David exchanged glances filled with concern.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">David took a step forward to suggest the stricken
woman sit down. “Maybe</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 14.4pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .25in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Before he could finish, she uttered an ear piercing
scream that reached all the way up to the rafters to bounce and echo throughout
the church. Unable to form the words to communicate the meaning behind her
scream, she pointed toward the office wing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">David and Mac were the first out of the sanctuary.
In the fellowship hall, they found Gnarly at the end of the hallway leading
back to the offices. Seeing that he now had their full attention, he turned and
led them down the hall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">Now, the office door was open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">David ran inside, halted, and held out his arm to
stop Mac who was directly behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">At first, the office appeared like any other with a
desk, computer, phone, and calculator. However, there was a big difference
where this one was concerned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro';">This office had a man lying in a pool of blood
behind his desk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A Wedding and a Killing</span></em><em><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-style: normal;"> is available at <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wedding-Killing-Faraday-Mystery-Book-ebook/dp/B00MQESTYC/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1408300078&sr=8-2&keywords=a+wedding+and+a+killing">Amazon</a>.</span></em><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1963989-a-wedding-and-a-killing-by-lauren-carr">Goodreads</a>.</span></i></li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Lauren-Carr1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Lauren-Carr1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lauren Carr is the best-selling author of the Mac Faraday Mysteries, which takes place in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Deep Creek Lake</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Maryland</st1:state></st1:place>. <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wedding-Killing-Faraday-Mystery-Book-ebook/dp/B00MQESTYC/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1408300078&sr=8-2&keywords=a+wedding+and+a+killing">A Wedding and a Killing</a> </i>is the eighth installment in the Mac Faraday Mystery series.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In addition to her series set on <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Deep</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Creek</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place>, Lauren Carr has also written the Lovers in Crime Mysteries, which features prosecutor Joshua Thornton with homicide detective Cameron Gates, who were introduced in <i>Shades of Murder</i>, the third book in the Mac Faraday Mysteries. They also make an appearance in <i>The Lady Who Cried Murder</i>. <i>Dead on Ice</i> (A Lovers in Crime Mystery) was released September 2012. The second installment, <i>Real Murder</i> was released to rave reviews in June 2014.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The owner of Acorn Book Services, Lauren is also a publishing manager, consultant, editor, cover and layout designer, and marketing agent for independent authors. This year, several books, over a variety of genre, written by independent authors will be released through the management of Acorn Book Services, which is currently accepting submissions. Visit Acorn Book Services website for more information.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lauren is a popular speaker who has made appearances at schools, youth groups, and on author panels at conventions. She also passes on what she has learned in her years of writing and publishing by conducting workshops and teaching in community education classes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She lives with her husband, son, and three dogs on a mountain in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Harpers Ferry</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<h3>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Lauren Carr’s <a href="http://mysterylady.net/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Connect with Holly on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lauren.carr.984991">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/TheMysteryLadie">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Lauren’s <a href="http://literarywealth.wordpress.com/">blog</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Is your group looking for a speaker for your next event? Click <a href="http://mysterylady.net/LaurenCarr.html">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Contact <a href="mailto:writerlaurencarr@gmail.com">Lauren</a>.</span></li>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank you for hosting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Dorothy Thompson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:address w:st="on"><st1:street w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">P.O. Box</span></st1:street><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> 643</span></st1:address><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Chincoteague Island</span></st1:city><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, <st1:state w:st="on">Virginia</st1:state> <st1:postalcode w:st="on">23336</st1:postalcode></span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-64626709421319263362014-10-06T08:00:00.000-05:002014-10-06T08:00:05.110-05:00Book Blitz and Giveaway: The Murders at Astaire Castle by Lauren Carr<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgin6QXw23SIjwJcPLvCvnRag4UBqGtFJGD-H7EjES-tcdrkhyphenhyphenEsHyPvNqdsQEjlC32CaTlh0L6FkHZ89yjPuuPzRtaZrWZLJ-ObGdAYyRMc3G55zo8Fn0q8NZxUiK692HmndkaMhCkyk4/s1600/The+Murders+at+Astaire+Castle+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgin6QXw23SIjwJcPLvCvnRag4UBqGtFJGD-H7EjES-tcdrkhyphenhyphenEsHyPvNqdsQEjlC32CaTlh0L6FkHZ89yjPuuPzRtaZrWZLJ-ObGdAYyRMc3G55zo8Fn0q8NZxUiK692HmndkaMhCkyk4/s1600/The+Murders+at+Astaire+Castle+banner.jpg" /></a></div>
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We're
happy to be hosting Lauren Carr and her THE MURDERS AT ASTAIRE CASTLE Book
Blitz today!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJaOjmKmWEbqxze2z7GNmgaKEHahd9QThnQf-Cw_WG_upRSeL1AxbGWuPO9IpT1NeRnmQu86AfKb5Ns9iJtZ3J1RewuqqdbUIqptrynqxhybYoeY-6rO2djDvz_DDRB20REsTv2_ediE/s1600/The+Murders+at+Astaire+Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJaOjmKmWEbqxze2z7GNmgaKEHahd9QThnQf-Cw_WG_upRSeL1AxbGWuPO9IpT1NeRnmQu86AfKb5Ns9iJtZ3J1RewuqqdbUIqptrynqxhybYoeY-6rO2djDvz_DDRB20REsTv2_ediE/s1600/The+Murders+at+Astaire+Castle.jpg" height="400" width="286" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">: Married One Night<br />
<b>Author</b>: Amber Leigh Williams<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Harlequin Superromance<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 384<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Contemporary Romance<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Married-One-Night-Harlequin-Superromance/dp/0373608780/ref=tmm_mmp_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1406985033&sr=1-3">AMAZON</a></b></span></div>
- See more at: http://theliterarynook.blogspot.com/#sthash.phdOBY3i.dpu</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">: The Murders at </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Astaire</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Castle</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><br />
<b>Author</b>: Lauren Carr<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Acorn Book Services<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 286<br />
<b>Genre</b>: Mystery<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Murders-Astaire-Castle-Faraday-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00E1IVPB0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412481147&sr=8-1&keywords=%22the+murders+at+astaire+castle%22">AMAZON</a></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 15.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria;">Mac Faraday Meets
the Wolf Man!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Never tell Mac Faraday <i>not</i>
to do something. </span></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In <i>The Murders at Astaire Castle</i>, Spencer’s police chief, David
O’Callaghan, learns this lesson the hard way when he orders Mac Faraday to stay
away from the south end of Spencer’s mountaintop—even though he owns the
property. It doesn’t take long for Mac to find out what lies on the other side
of the stone wall and locked gate, on which hangs a sign warning visitors to </span><i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Keep Out!</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Topping the list of the ten most haunted places in America, Astaire Castle
is associated with two suicides, three mysterious disappearances, and four
murders since it was built almost a century ago—and Mac Faraday owns it! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In spite of David’s warning, Mac can’t resist unlocking the gate to see the
castle that supposedly hasn’t seen a living soul since his late mother had
ordered it closed up after the double homicide and disappearance of Damian
Wagner, a world-famous master of horror novels. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Halloween has always been a fun time,” best-selling author Lauren Carr
explains in a note at the beginning of her fifth Mac Faraday mystery. “It’s the
time to break out and be someone else. As a child, I would pretend to be one of
the Bobbsey Twins searching for clues to lead me to a secret treasure. If I was
lucky, it was made up of chocolate. As a teenager, I was Nancy Drew. Always,
when October rolled around, I craved mysteries with something extra
added—something beyond the normal—something supernatural. As an author, I couldn’t
resist taking this one Mac Faraday Mystery on a scary Halloween adventure.” </span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">In this latest installment of Carr’s hit series, what starts out as a quick
tour of a dusty old castle turns into another Mac Faraday adventure when
Astaire Castle becomes the scene of even more murders. Mac is going to need to
put all of his investigative talents to work to sort out this case that
involves the strangest characters he has run into yet—including a wolf man. <i>No,
we’re not talking about Gnarly</i>.</span></div>
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</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Book Excerpt:</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Prologue</span></b></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">November 2002 – Astaire Castle, top of Spencer Mountain,
Deep Creek Lake, Maryland</span></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Shivering, Rafaela turned up
the fan for the heater in her old Plymouth. The weather channel was calling for
snow. With an eye on the storm clouds heading straight for Spencer Mountain,
she picked up the speed a notch. Her car bumped along the worn road cut through
the trees and rock to take her to Astaire Castle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The notion of being trapped
at the castle by a winter storm made her curse the day she had accepted the job
as housekeeper at the Astaire estate. The young illegal immigrant thought her
prayers had been answered by landing the job at the luxurious estate. Not only
was it prestigious to work in a castle, but lucrative since Damian Wagner was
paying almost twice her normal hourly wage. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">What a gem to put on my
housekeeping resume! To be hire by only one of the world’s most famous authors
of horror books—even more famous than Robin Spencer—to clean an
honest-to-goodness castle. So what if the Astaire Castle has a reputation of
being haunted? I’ll be making a bundle for cleaning five days a week in the
daylight. Besides, I don’t believe in no ghosts.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Rafaela regretted her
decision the first time she walked into Astaire Castle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">At first, she dismissed her
cleaning supplies moving from where she had left them as forgetfulness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then there was the time she kept hearing
someone whispering her name. She had looked around, but never saw anyone. Same
with doors closing or opening or footsteps coming up behind her, and the
old-time music and party noises in empty rooms when no one was there—she tried
to tell herself that it was all her imagination. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">None of that was anything
compared to the Wolf Man who she had seen in the dining room mirror while she
was cleaning it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She had heard all about the
Wolf Man who lived in the woods surrounding Astaire Castle. The woman with two
teenagers who lived in the apartment next to hers was quick to tell her about
him. Rafaela had dismissed it all as ghost stories made up by her neighbor’s
kids to scare her—until she had seen him with her own two eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">That day she ran out of the
castle. She returned only after Genevieve, Damian Wagner’s daughter, had
promised that her father finish his book and be moving out of the castle by the
end of the year—at which time he would pay her a handsome bonus that would give
her enough money to visit her family in Brazil for Christmas.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Rafaela caught her breath
when her Plymouth entered through the gate at the end of the road to pull into
the front courtyard and fountain. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The fountain was off. Damian
Wagner had never bothered to turn it on. He wouldn’t notice if it was. He spent
his time banging away on his computer in the study on the top floor. He
wouldn’t eat if it weren’t for his daughter bringing food to him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Then there was the
editor—Mr. Jansen.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">He reminded Rafaela of a
bird with his bony frame, high cheekbones over a pointy chin, and thick
eyeglasses with his blinking eyes magnified behind them. He sounded like a
squawking bird with his high-pitched voice no matter what his mood or what he
was saying. Ready to pounce in anticipation of any need from Damian Wagner, he
was always lurking nearby.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Damian’s daughter,
Genevieve, was as charming as beautiful. She often asked Rafaela about her
family in Brazil and about her life in Deep Creek Lake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the new immigrant to America, Rafaela
felt as if she was making a friend who would give her good references for more
housekeeping jobs in the resort town of Spencer—more millionaire estates to
clean—estates that weren’t haunted.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Rafaela pulled her car
around the circular drive and parked at the bottom of the steep steps that led
to the front door. When she got out of her car, the wind howled and whipped her
long dark hair around her head. The wind actually seemed to want to rip her
thin coat off her body. Grabbing her box of cleaning supplies, she squared her
shoulders, and sucked up her nerve to go inside.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Need to make this quick.
They don’t have enough money to make me stay here during that storm.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The wind yanked the heavy
wooden door from her grasp to slam it against the side of the house.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Stupid door!” Rafaela set
the box inside the foyer and went outside to grab the door and pull it shut.
“Mr. Wagner! Mr. Jansen! Genevieve! It’s me, Rafaela! Hope I’m not disturbing
you.” She picked up the box and made her way through the foyer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Raf-aela …” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She stopped. With wide eyes,
she peered up the staircase to the second floor balcony. “Is that you, Mr.
Wagner?” She paused to listen. “Genevieve?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Get out. Now.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Has to be my imagination.</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> She reassured herself. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.
There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she muttered over and over to herself while
hurrying to the back of the castle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“I don’t suppose you had any
trick-or-treaters last night, did you?” she called out to ease her nerves with
the sound of her own voice. “Not up here I suppose.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She waited for an answer.
She heard footsteps on the floor up above.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The smell of burnt meat came
to her nose. It smelled like steak that had been left on the grill for too
long.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">They must have grilled
steaks last night. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Lots of little children
stopped by my apartment.” Feeling braver as she rattled on, Rafaela set the box
of cleaning supplies on the kitchen table and gathered together her duster and
furniture polish. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Best to start in the living
room. The antiques, wood, and silver takes the longest. </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Admiring the decades-old
priceless china encased in the china closet, she went through the dining room.
With her cleaning lady’s eye, she gauged what needed to be addressed on this
visit that she may have missed before. She stopped when the blotch of red on
the doorframe through the kitchen caught her eye.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">What’s that? Catsup?</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">It wasn’t until she spotted
a spot on the floor that she first considered that it wasn’t a condiment, but
something much more sinister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
spotted another. Bigger this time … and another.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">There was a red pool in
front of the kitchen door that opened out onto the back patio and deck that
projected out over the rocks to provide a massive view of the valley down
below. All of the drops and splatters and pools led to the common source—the
fire pit outside.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">She saw the flames and smoke
wafting in the wind whipping around her where she stood in the open doorway.
She stared at the blackened objects in the pit. What at first appeared to be a
burnt log projecting out of the flames took shape. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The hand and fingers reached
out to her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The index finger was
pointing at her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Through the rapid beating of
her heart, Rafaela could hear the footsteps behind her coming closer. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“Get out!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">His image was reflected in
the glass pane of the door. The wild hair. The crazed eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">It’s the Wolf Man!</span></i><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></div>
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Watch the Trailer!</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">About the Author:</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sqXHggM5XeI2wHI2Q4Y553wSErs1FfovSTo2jMMpY-C4Bq7YO3Y7PY7I0Iz_7CT3g1R3wSseYg_ZD-Q_CNdlaLeTfiYMwGUO4S8u9P9r6Rw3GWXi31eEm_tNd2FquFURDxOnfpMKGt4/s1600/Lauren+Carr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sqXHggM5XeI2wHI2Q4Y553wSErs1FfovSTo2jMMpY-C4Bq7YO3Y7PY7I0Iz_7CT3g1R3wSseYg_ZD-Q_CNdlaLeTfiYMwGUO4S8u9P9r6Rw3GWXi31eEm_tNd2FquFURDxOnfpMKGt4/s1600/Lauren+Carr.jpg" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Lauren Carr
is the best-selling author of the Mac Faraday Mysteries, which takes place in </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Deep Creek Lake</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">, </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Maryland</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Twelve
to Murder </i>is the seventh installment in the Mac Faraday Mystery series. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">In addition
to her series set on </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Deep</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">
</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Creek</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Lake</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">, Lauren Carr has also written the Lovers in
Crime Mysteries, which features prosecutor Joshua Thornton with homicide
detective Cameron Gates, who were introduced in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shades of Murder</i>, the third book in the Mac Faraday Mysteries. They
also make an appearance in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Lady Who
Cried Murder</i>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Lauren
launched the Lovers in Crime (first introduced in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shades of Murder</i>) mystery series in September 2012 with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dead on Ice</i>. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">The owner of
Acorn Book Services, Lauren is also a publishing manager, consultant, editor,
cover and layout designer, and marketing agent for independent authors. This
year, several books, over a variety of genre, written by independent authors
will be released through the management of Acorn Book Services, which is
currently accepting submissions. Visit Acorn Book Services website for more
information.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Lauren is a
popular speaker who has made appearances at schools, youth groups, and on
author panels at conventions. She also passes on what she has learned in her
years of writing and publishing by conducting workshops and teaching in
community education classes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">She lives
with her husband, son, and three dogs on a mountain in </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Harpers Ferry</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">, </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">WV</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">For More Information</span></b></div>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Visit Lauren Carr’s <a href="http://www.mysterylady.net/">website</a>.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Connect with Lauren on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lauren.carr.984991">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/TheMysteryLadie">Twitter</a>.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Visit Lauren’s <a href="http://literarywealth.wordpress.com/">blog</a>.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">More <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lauren-Carr/e/B001JP4F0Q/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1403839059&sr=8-2-ent">books</a>
by Lauren Carr.</span></li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Giveaway!</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><!--[if !mso]><img src="//img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" />
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</span></b></div>
<h2 align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Lauren
is giving away one paperback copy, two ebook copies and three audiobooks of THE
MURDERS AT </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">ASTAIRE</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">CASTLE</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">!</span></span></b></h2>
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">
</span></b><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Terms and Conditions:</span></b></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">
</span></b>
<ul type="disc"><b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">By entering the giveaway, you are
confirming you are at least 18 years old.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Six winners will be chosen via Rafflecopter.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">This giveaway begins October 6 and ends
October 31.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Winners will be contacted via email on
Monday, November 3.</span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Winner has 48 hours to reply.</span></li>
</span></b></ul>
<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">
<div align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Good
luck everyone!</span></div>
<h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; font-size: 12.0pt;">ENTER TO WIN!</span></h3>
</span></b>
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1a49cf61129/" id="rc-1a49cf61129" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><script src="//widget.rafflecopter.com/load.js"></script> <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-22082744314892580282014-09-03T12:30:00.002-05:002014-09-03T12:30:41.037-05:00Book Spotlight: Round the Bend by Alistair McGuiness<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12.95pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
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<i><a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Round-the-Bend-banner-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Round-the-Bend-banner-2.jpg" height="177" width="320" /></a></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Round-the-Bend-2-195x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Round-the-Bend-2-195x300.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">: </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #262626; font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Round the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bend</st1:place></st1:city>:
From <st1:place w:st="on">Luton</st1:place> to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Peru</st1:place></st1:country-region> to Ningaloo, a Search for Life
After Redundancy</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br />
<b>Author</b>: Alistair McGuiness<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Matador<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 256<br />
<b>Genre</b>:<b> </b>Travel<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback; Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Round-Bend-Ningaloo-Search-Redundancy/dp/1780883900/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1404724993&sr=8-3">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">From the Amazon to the <st1:place w:st="on">Andes</st1:place> and
Kilimanjaro to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Cape Town</st1:place></st1:city>.
</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">This adventure story captures the reality
and exhilaration of leaving home to undertake Gap Year travel in <st1:place w:st="on">South America</st1:place>, <st1:place w:st="on">Africa</st1:place>, <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Fiji</st1:place></st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Three things
happened simultaneously. The lioness charged, Alistair fled across the parched
savannah and his wife screamed for him to run faster. Stuffed deep inside his
tattered rucksack was a guidebook containing advice on what to do in wildlife
emergencies, which he planned to read if he survived the next thirty seconds.
Future plans to climb Kilimanjaro, teach English in the Amazon and live in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> were
temporarily forgotten as he turned to face the pouncing lioness, thinking back
to the words of advice from his mother-in-law. "Don't do anything silly,
and look after Francine." From deep underground in a remote Bolivian mine
to the scorched Australian outback, Round the Bend is an adventure travel
story. It explores the turbulence of redundancy, the excitement of travel, the
anguish of leaving home and the challenges of starting a new life in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"><br /></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 24.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: widow-orphan lines-together; page-break-after: avoid; text-autospace: none;">
<b><span lang="EN" style="color: #345a8a; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Prologue<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Like many adolescents, I spent my youth staring
out of classroom windows wishing I was somewhere else. While the teachers
handed out homework, I dreamt of travelling to faraway shores, discovering
nomadic tribes and trekking to the Seven Wonders of the World. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Depending on the subject matter and the
personality of the teacher, my level of concentration wavered each lesson.
Geography fascinated me, maths baffled me, religion confused me and German
lessons terrified me. Nothing fazed my classmate Mik Scarlet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">He was going to be a pop star and everyone in
school knew it. Trivial matters like German lessons were just a minor
distraction on his path to stardom. By the time we were sixteen, Mik was
networking with Gary Numan and I had retired from language lessons, hoping that
laminated menus with pictures would get me through a lifetime of international
travel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">But fate had other plans and twenty years after
failing in German I found myself on a plane heading to Ecuador for lessons in
Spanish. Maybe this time it would be different and I wouldn’t gaze out of the
classroom window wishing I was somewhere else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Alistair-McGuiness-2-300x225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Alistair-McGuiness-2-300x225.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Alistair McGuiness grew up in the UK in a town called Luton, which lies 30 miles north of London. Family holidays were spent in County Donegal, Ireland, staying with his Grandmother in their large family home where she had once raised fifteen children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It was these annual trips that made Alistair realise his Great Uncles were Seanachaís (Irish story tellers). After a few pints of Guinness in the family bar, brothers Barney and Francis would entertain the evening crowds with their recitations of life in rural Ireland. As their rustic voices carried across the crowded room, Alistair would watch and listen as the animated tales mesmorised the overseas visitors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">44 countries and four decades later, Alistair now calls Australia home and in the tradition of Great Uncles Barney and Francis, loves to recite stories. He lives between the beach and the forest with his wife, two young boys and a fun puppy called Peppi. After decades of adventurous escapades Alistair is calming down and has decided to write more and bungee jump less!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He works as a Business Improvement Specialist and has just spent three years as a fly in fly out employee at a remote iron ore mine site in Western Australia. As a trainer and facilitator, he has worked in Europe and Australia and is passionate about helping people and organisations to become successful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A fun family day for Alistair would be fishing from the local jetty with his boys, taking the puppy for a walk along the beach at sunset and cooking a scrumptious curry in the evening with his wife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 13pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">An ideal adventurous day for Alistair would be a days walking and scrambling in the Lake District with friends, followed by a visit to a village pub nestled deep in the English countryside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">His latest book is the adventure travel, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Round-Bend-Ningaloo-Search-Redundancy/dp/1780883900/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1404724993&sr=8-3">Round the Bend: From Luton to Peru to Ningaloo, A Search for Life After Redundancy</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Alistair McGuiness’ <a href="http://www.thecreativenomad.co/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></i></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Connect with Alistair on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thecreativenomad">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/amcguinness1">Twitter</a>.</span></i></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Thank you for hosting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Media Contact: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Dorothy Thompson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Pump Up Your Book<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:address w:st="on"><st1:street w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">P.O. Box</span></st1:street><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> 643</span></st1:address><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Chincoteague Island</span></st1:city><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, <st1:state w:st="on">Virginia</st1:state> <st1:postalcode w:st="on">23336</st1:postalcode></span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Email: </span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="mailto:thewriterslife@gmail.com">thewriterslife@gmail.com</a>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1969558921964931828.post-52576772006771852992014-09-02T08:30:00.000-05:002014-09-02T08:30:00.976-05:00Virtual Book Tour: Real Murder by Lauren Carr<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Title</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">: Real Murder<br />
<b>Author</b>: Lauren Carr<br />
<b>Publisher</b>: Acorn Book Services<br />
<b>Pages</b>: 302<br />
<b>Genre</b>:<b> </b>Mystery<br />
<b>Format</b>: Paperback/Kindle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Purchase at <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Real-Murder-Lovers-Crime-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00KMMQT6K/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid=">AMAZON</a><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">When
Homicide Detective Cameron Gates befriends Dolly, the little old lady who lives
across the street, she is warned not to get lured into helping the elderly
woman by investigating the unsolved murder of one of her girls. “She’s senile,”
Cameron is warned. “It’s not a real murder.” <br />
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Such is not the case. After Dolly is brutally murdered, Cameron discovers that
the sweet blue-haired lady’s “girl” was a call girl, who had been killed in a
mysterious double homicide. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Prosecuting Attorney Joshua Thornton is looking for answers to the
murder of a childhood friend, a sheriff deputy whose cruiser is found at the
bottom of a lake. The deputy had disappeared almost twenty years ago while
privately investigating the murder of a local prostitute. <br />
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It doesn’t take long for the Lovers in Crime to put their cases together to
reveal a long-kept secret that some believe is worth killing to keep
undercover.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif";">Book Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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“Would you like
another breast, Tad?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Dr. Tad MacMillan
studied the last two bites of white meat on the chicken breast in the middle of
his paper plate before answering the robust woman standing over him with a foil
pan in one hand and a pair of tongs clutching a fried chicken piece in the
other. He was already on his third piece. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Come on, Tad.”
His wife, Jan, urged him from across the picnic table. Her attention was
divided between her husband, their three-month-old son fussing in the baby
carrier on top of the table, and her long blonde hair that had abruptly become
too hot on her next. “You know you want it. That’s what church picnics are for.
Eating until you bust.” She clenched a hair clip in her teeth and gathered her
hair together with both hands.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Entertained by the
funny looking object sticking out of his mother’s mouth, Tad Jr. giggled. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Tired of waiting
for his response, the woman plopped the plump breast onto his plate and moved
on to the next table to foist the remaining chicken on other picnickers.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m trying to save
room for Cameron’s hot fudge lava cake,” Tad said while searching the parking
lot for his cousin and his wife, “if she ever comes.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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After taking the
clip out of her mouth, Jan continued to make funny faces at the baby, who
giggled harder. “Not to mention the ice cream that Josh is supposed to bring.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Where are they
anyway?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Cameron got a
lead on a murder case she was working and took off this morning.” After
securing her hair up on top of her head, Jan picked Tad Junior up out of the
carrier. “Josh decided to work on an opening argument that he’s giving
tomorrow. He didn’t want to come without her.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Just like
newlyweds.” Tad dove into the next piece of chicken. “I remember when you
refused to go anywhere without me at your side. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Now I don’t even
notice when you aren’t there,” she confessed. “I never thought we would get
this old and settled.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Can you really
picture me being settled?” Tad let out a laugh before peeling the crispy skin
off the chicken piece on his plate. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I just hope TJ
takes after me instead of you in that regard,” Jan said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re not the
only one.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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While hugging
their son, Jan looked across the picnic table at her husband, Dr. Tad
MacMillan, the town doctor and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Hancock</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">County</st1:placetype></st1:place>’s medical
examiner. His salt and pepper hair brought out his blue eyes heavily framed
with laugh lines. They may have been old and settled, but his laid back style
and charismatic ways still caught her off guard sometimes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Taking in the
their friends and family that littered the park for the church picnic, Jan found it hard to believe that less than a
decade earlier she had resigned herself to the fact that she would never marry,
let alone have a journalism career, and a fussy baby, who just threw up down
the back of her shirt. <o:p></o:p></div>
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While the older
members of the church congregation were helping themselves to seconds and
thirds of the picnic fare, the younger and more athletic picnickers were racing
paddleboats across the park’s lake. Joshua Thornton’s sixteen-year old-son
Donny, the only remaining child at home, was included in that group. The boys
were racing the girls. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Faster! Pedal
faster!” Donny yelled at his friend Woody. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’m going as fast
as I can!” The chubby teenager who rarely exercised anything except his fingers
while playing computer games was put out with being coerced into this activity
in the first place. At least since he was partnered with Donny, a linebacker on
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Oak</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Glen</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">High School</st1:placename></st1:place>’s
football team, he stood a chance of winning the race. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Beat you!” the
girls squealed from the shore where they turned their craft around.<o:p></o:p></div>
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With a curse,
Donny kicked at the pedals and sat back to let the sun shine on his face. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The paddleboat
rocked when Woody leaned over the side to peer into the water. “Hey, what’s
that?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What?” Donny
replied without opening his eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Down there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Down where?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Woody nudged him
in the arm. “In the water. It looks like a car.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Opening his eyes,
Donny sat up. “So someone tossed their old car into the lake. Happens all the
time.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Do the police
dump their old cruisers in the lake, too?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span lang="en-US" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: #0400;"> </span><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">About the Author</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">Lauren Carr is the best-selling author of the Mac Faraday Mysteries, which takes place in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Deep Creek Lake</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Maryland</st1:state></st1:place>. <i>Twelve to Murder </i>is the seventh installment in the Mac Faraday Mystery series.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">In addition to her series set on <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Deep</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Creek</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place>, Lauren Carr has also written the Lovers in Crime Mysteries, which features prosecutor Joshua Thornton with homicide detective Cameron Gates, who were introduced in <i>Shades of Murder</i>, the third book in the Mac Faraday Mysteries. They also make an appearance in <i>The Lady Who Cried Murder</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">Lauren launched the Lovers in Crime (first introduced in <i>Shades of Murder</i>) mystery series in September 2012 with <i>Dead on Ice</i>. <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Real-Murder-Lovers-Crime-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00KMMQT6K/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid=">Real Murder</a></i> is the second installment in this series.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">The owner of Acorn Book Services, Lauren is also a publishing manager, consultant, editor, cover and layout designer, and marketing agent for independent authors. This year, several books, over a variety of genre, written by independent authors will be released through the management of Acorn Book Services, which is currently accepting submissions. Visit Acorn Book Services website for more information.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">Lauren is a popular speaker who has made appearances at schools, youth groups, and on author panels at conventions. She also passes on what she has learned in her years of writing and publishing by conducting workshops and teaching in community education classes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;">She lives with her husband, son, and three dogs on a mountain in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Harpers Ferry</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For More Information<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Lauren Carr’s <a href="http://www.mysterylady.net/">website</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Connect with Lauren on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lauren.carr.984991">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://www.twitter.com/TheMysteryLadie">Twitter</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit Lauren’s <a href="http://literarywealth.wordpress.com/">blog</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">More <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lauren-Carr/e/B001JP4F0Q/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1403839059&sr=8-2-ent">books</a> by Lauren Carr.</span></li>
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<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Chincoteague Island</span></st1:city><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, <st1:state w:st="on">Virginia</st1:state> <st1:postalcode w:st="on">23336</st1:postalcode></span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Margay Leah Justicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15490126898758440254noreply@blogger.com1