Cover Reveal Little Writer by Marina Hill


Little Writer
Marmee’s Girls
Book One 
Marina Hill

Genre: Historical fiction
Publisher: Evergreen Books
Date of Publication: November 1, 2022
Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9862908-0-5
eBook ISBN: 979-8-9862908-1-2
ASIN: B09ZFCWKYP
Cover Artist: Marina Hill

Book Description:

A retelling of the classic coming-of-age story Little Women through the intimate lens of Jo March.

It’s 1862 and fifteen-year-old Jo March would rather be fighting in the war, like her papa, than improving her knitting skills on the home front. But societal conventions for the “gentle” woman—and her steadfast adoration for her three sisters—force Jo to stay behind and support the family, all the while rolling her eyes at Aunt March and daydreaming of becoming a famous author.

At home, love abounds in the March girls’ lives in the form of family, friendship, patriotism, religion, and—to Jo’s chagrin—romance. As each sister navigates their ascent into adulthood, Jo unwittingly ventures down a path of self-realization, using her gift of written prose to craft her voice, and thus, her truth. Perhaps, just maybe, she can strike balance between the freedom of independence and the warmth of partnership…

In this visionary adaptation, Little Writer tells the March sisters’ timeless journey to womanhood with a multiracial cast of characters, reimagining history to include diverse communities without elaboration.

Amazon      BN

Excerpt:

The theater is such a grand building, with gilded designs and carvings decorating everywhere my gaze lands. I haven’t even seen the play yet and I’m impressed. I wish I could run my fingers over the golden carvings. I can dig up stories hidden in the curves and grooves.

“I knew you’d like it,” Laurie mutters.

I turn toward him, his black eyes glimmering as he looks at me. A blush runs up my neck. My arm tightens around his and I press my cheek to his shoulder for a moment. With a big family like mine, I’ve never been able to be me and only me. I’ve always been Josephine March—sister of Amy, Meg, and Beth. Never Jo March, writer of phenomenal stories. The love and affection

I’ve received have been a dished-out serving, for my sisters need some, too. It’s all the same, tailored ever so slightly for each of us.

But being friends with Teddy… it’s the first time someone is thinking of me—and only me.

The theater invitation is almost enough for me to feel every bit of my individual self—but I cannot shake the guilt. Amy wanted to come so badly and I was so harsh. I was trying to teach her manners, for it is improper to invite yourself places. But in turn, I forgot my own. It’s easy to lose the little amount of hold I have on my temper when it comes to my sisters.

Despite the sparkling elves and princes and princesses, I can’t enjoy the play the way I want to. Also because Laurie’s rowdy friends are often hushed by other guests.

Amy and I argue the most out of our family. I think it’s because we’re both the most passionate. Her with her art and propriety. Me with my writing and books. I try with such strength to tame my temper; I fail most of the time. When anger flares in my chest, I must get it out lest it burns me alive. In turn, it burns other people. People I care about—like Amy.

Oh, Amy. In the middle of the play, it takes everything I have not to run home and apologize.

“Teddy,” I say once the play is over and we walk into the lobby. “I don’t have any money with me. I was wickedly cruel to Amy before the play and I feel terrible. I want to buy her chocolate from the concession stand. I’ll pay you back the moment we return.”

With a gentle smile, Laurie pats my hand and walks toward the concession stand. Meg places a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m proud of you,” says Meg.

“I was trying to teach her,” I say.

She nods. “I know.”

Off to the side, one of Laurie’s friends—Ned, I believe—makes obscene gestures and poses with a statue. An employee reprimands him and Meg and I turn away, lest we be seen as part of his group.

“Must his friends be so abominable?” Meg asks, earning a snort from me.




About the Author: 

Marina Hill is a writer and artist with unconventional tastes; she craves the undiscovered and the ignored. If she isn’t daydreaming about her next story, she’s studying history or yearning to dash into the forest, build a farm, and never look back. Marina never lives in one spot for too long and loves to travel with her husky she named after Aang’s flying bison, Appa.








First Bite by Avery Daniels


First Bite
An Accidental Vampire PI 
Book One
Avery Daniels

Genre: Paranormal cozy mystery
Publisher: Blazing Sword Publishing, Ltd.
Date of Publication:  May 1, 2022
ISBN: 978-1-7355663-6-8
ASIN: B09XP9TS5N
Number of pages: 298
Word Count:  57,425
Cover Artist: Molly Burton 

Tagline: What’s a positive thought girl to do when she finds herself one of the undead? Recite plenty of affirmations and use those new toothy skills to assist her PI boss, of course.

Description:

In 24 hours, Misty Summers had the worst date of her life, was bit by a vampire, and her PI boss may close his business as he goes through a divorce. Looking on the sunny side, she decides to use her new vampire assets and become the investigator to keep her job and income. She doesn’t know what her future holds, but it can’t be any worse! When she starts following up on a missing woman’s case, she finds herself in the middle of murder. Even with her positive thinking and affirmations, she is finding her new reality daunting. But she vows to take a bite out of crime in her small lake resort town.

If you like Duffy Brown, Nancy Warren, Nova Nelson, Dionne Lister, Trixie Silvertale, and Leighann Dobbs, then you’ll love this series with a quirky intelligent sleuth, small town lake setting, and tantalizing mysteries. Misty Indigo Summers is a positive thinking kind of gal and a most unlikely vampire and PI. 

Buy these fun and clean cozy mysteries and start enjoying Misty’s adventures today!

Book Trailer:  https://youtu.be/SbiadKWhuu4


Amazon


Excerpt:

“I never want to see you again.”  I slammed the passenger side door. Roger sped off in his red truck, his dragging muffler sounded like a tray of silverware ground in a garbage disposal.  That ended the date from hell.  He took me to a cheap restaurant, we saw the budget dollar movie, and I had to pay for my own popcorn.  I can understand being on a budget, truly, I get it. But then to get all handsy in a parking lot, right under a parking light!  He had the nerve to get upset when I said no.  I had to slap him.  When he slapped me back, I elbowed him in his jewels.  The complete jerk.   There was a sickle moon hanging lazily in the sky and a cool autumn breeze rustled the gold and russet leaves.  I walked faster to warm up.  I hadn’t brought a coat since I’d expected to be driven.  A gust whipped my hair across my eyes and I swept it back.

 I took a deep breath and wondered at the smell of autumn, the slightly sharp tang in the crisp air.  I wrapped my arms around myself.

The bright side was I stood up for myself and put an end to his assault.  Unfortunately, I’m stranded after eleven in a rougher part of town on a Sunday night with nobody around.  I wish I could strangle Roger’s pencil neck.  I can walk off my anger; we don’t have an Uber or such in the small town of Majestic.  I needed to recapture my positive vibes anyway, so a walk would do me good.  

Another positive item to the evening was I didn’t spring for a new or previously owned dress for the evening.  It would have been wasted on the moron, anyway.  I wore my deep purple sleeveless turtleneck and black pants.  It was classic and more than he deserved.  My best friend, Courtney, had assured me this blind date would be different.  Oh, it was different, all right, and not in a good way.  

I’ve never actually had a good date, not one single good memory of a date.  Tears stung my eyes.  Enough negativity.  I recited my mantra.  I am ready for the perfect man for me.  I am working on myself to be the person who will attract my perfect partner. After yet another disheartening experience, it’s all I can do to not blame it all on myself.  Nope, the right man is coming to me.  Yeah, okay.  I may be trying to convince myself more than attracting Mr. Right into my life.  I’m okay with that at the moment.

My low-heeled strappy sandals slapped against the sidewalk, an exclamation point with every step.  There wasn’t any traffic, and I had a couple of miles to go.  Other than my footsteps, it was quiet except for a dog barking in the auto salvage yard behind me. But I felt a presence and knew I wasn’t alone.  I sped up.  I was speed walking now and my heart pounded.  This really wasn’t a good area.  Majestic was a modest-sized town, just big enough to warrant two canines on the police force.  I didn’t want to find out firsthand about the seedy side of town.

Were those footsteps behind me?  I stopped abruptly. I heard a scuff, then nothing.  My senses screamed run, and even though my sandals weren’t the best for it, at least they were strapped on.  I grabbed hold of my purse strap to keep my purse with me.  I didn’t care how it looked; I took off running for everything I was worth.  My mind continued to yell, faster, faster!

One instant, it was a clear sidewalk in front of me, and the next I ran into a man who had just appeared.  My mind reeled at his abrupt materialization.  His eyes were strange; even in the dark, his eyes bore into mine.  I took my purse and aimed for his head. He moved so fast I barely saw a blur.  Next thing I knew, the guy was behind me, had pinned my arms, and was trying to give me a hickey!  

Worst day ever!  There just is no positive way to look at any of this night.  I struggled, scratched, and kicked but was losing my energy quickly.  I remember slumping to the ground. I think he was still attached to my neck.  I wanted to keep fighting, but I couldn’t even stay conscious.


About the Author:

Avery Daniels was born and raised in Colorado, graduated from college with a degree in business administration and has worked in fortune 500 companies and Department of Defense her entire life. Her most eventful job was apartment management for 352 units. 

She still resides in Colorado with two brother black cats as her spirited companions. She volunteers for a cat shelter, enjoys scrapbooking and card making, photography, and painting in watercolor and acrylic. She inherited a love for reading from her mother and grandmother and grew up talking about books at the dinner table. 

Join her newsletter for exclusive news and offers: http://eepurl.com/c2DgfT










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Wrath by S. Peters-Davis


Wrath
Kendra Spark Series 
Book Five
S. Peters-Davis

Genre: Suspense, paranormal, romance
Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
Date of Publication: April 2022
ISBN EPub: 9780228621263 
ISBN Kindle: 9780228621270 
ISBNWeb: 9780228621287
ISBN Print: 9780228621294
Number of pages: 157
Word Count: 54,800
Cover Artist: Michelle Lee

Series Tagline: Kendra sees ghosts, and then her BFF, Jenna, becomes one. The two friends and FBI agent Derek Knight form a team that fights for the victims of heinous, supernatural crimes.

Book Tagline: The FBI-VCU-SI team deals with the ultimate test of good vs. evil when the powerful, evil entity Chaos joins forces with the dark side.

Book Description: 

Kendra Sparks’ vacation gets cut short when Sassy Blaze, the captured voodoo priestess of the dark arts, hangs herself in prison, and a string of curious deaths follows. 

Attempting to stop Sassy costs lives, relationships, and creates unexpected complications, especially for Derek and Kendra. 

Who will defeat the voodoo, dark witch when she can possess whoever she wants?

The FBI-VCU-SI team must deal with the ultimate test of good vs. evil and it’s not looking promising, especially when the powerful, evil entity Chaos joins forces with the dark side.


Excerpt: Kendra’s Point of View

“Thank you for your assistance,” Derek acknowledged the man who guided us to the morgue.

“Now, I’d like this entire room cleared for at least an hour. Your morgue director can verify that order.” Derek nodded, and as he turned toward me, our guide moved away to the two working coroners, escorting them out of the room.

“Dang, this place reminds me of places in the dark plane.” Jenna stood in the center of the room and spun a slow circle. “It’s almost like I can feel Bertellia’s presence, even though I know that woman is gone forever.”  

Once everyone cleared the room, I went to work crushing and mixing up the concoction of herbs in a small burning pot. “I can see the film that cocoons the body you mentioned.” I lit the herbs, allowing a quick flame. Then I blew out the little fire and left the blended ingredients smoldering. As I waved the pot over the body, I said the ritual words. Jenna and Derek joined in the mantra, repeating it with me two more times to break the bond holding Mr. Mead’s soul.

A massive pop, deep enough to shake the floor, startled me. Jenna screamed. Derek jumped in front of me, pushing my body back. “Grab your blades. Mine’s vibrating as if it wants to act on its own.” He grabbed his dagger (the one that NaNa Rosa had given to everyone on our team for protection and guidance against evil spirits from the dark plane) out of the sheath tucked into the back of his pants.

Jenna slipped hers from the sheath strapped to her thigh.

The film surrounding Mr. Mead had disappeared, and the oozing, dark entity that rose out of him charged the air with a distinct acrid odor that immediately gagged me.

I grabbed a wastebasket and threw up.

“Wow, you actually tossed your cookies, Sparky.” Jenna stared at me. “Are you sick?” She stood next to me, dagger in her hand. “Come on, woman, we need you now.”

“Rotten eggs, Kendra. Do you have your dagger in your hand?” Derek’s full attention remained on the grizzly form of leaking pustule bumps and dripping saliva.

I puked again, and my stomach continued to buck and roll. My protection sigil burned, telling me this guy came from the dark plane and would love to feed off our energy. I had tucked the blade in my bag with the herbs. Right now, that satchel lay on the floor about three feet to my right. Gagging and swallowing, I inched toward the bag to hold off the inevitable next wave of nausea.

The entity pulled itself entirely out of Mead’s body, red eyes gawking at us. It caught my movement, and a wretched toothy smile spread across its disgusting thick, slimy lips. The horrendous monster stood on the opposite side of Mead and stepped toward me through the gurney and Mead’s body as if wading through water.

“Sparky, get your dagger!” Jenna readied to throw.

“You look tasty, you’re first,” it rasped and stretched a claw at me, snapping its sharp nails.

Derek and Jenna threw their blades, hitting the evil creeper in the heart and slowing its progress toward me.

I dove for my bag, and the hilt of my dagger snugged into my hand. I yanked it out and flung it with a snap of my wrist. The blade found its mark and sunk into the entity’s heart beside the other two daggers. A vicious scream howled out, dropping Derek and me to our knees with hands covering our ears. I watched as it burned from the inside out and turned into white ash that disappeared, leaving Mr. Mead’s spirit staring at us.

“Where the hell am I?” He looked from Derek to me to Jenna and back at Derek. Then his gaze wandered around the room. “Am I inside a morgue?” His mouth dropped open when he saw his body on the gurney. “Am I dead?”

“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but yes, you died. We don’t know how. Can you remember anything that happened?” I didn’t want to force him, but his anxious shaking took a drastic turn as he stared at our daggers lying beside his feet.

“Did you guys kill me?” His image faltered into momentary static, but then he restabilized into a vivid body, appearing alive. “I want answers.” His lips pinched together, and then his eyes wandered to his dead body on the gurney. He slumped and looked at Derek. “What will my husband do?”

I glanced at Derek and watched his eyes widen.

“Let us know who your significant other is, and we’ll inform him of your passing.” Jenna stepped closer to him.

Mr. Mead huffed. “What would you say? Even I don’t know how I died.”

“We believe it had something to do with Sassy Blaze.” Derek moved beside Jenna, and I followed.

“All I remember is heading to the prison wing to check on the prisoners there. I noticed one guard sleeping beside the door, totally against protocol, so I kicked his foot to awaken him. Then I noticed a green powdery substance around his nose and wondered if he was on drugs. That’s all I recall, other than getting slammed against the wall and hearing the iron door slide open. That normally happened for my prisoner check, but I don’t remember anything after that. I blacked out.” His eyes went wide. “Did anyone look at surveillance?”

“The monitors recorded static in that cell block. That’s why I’m asking you.” Derek took a couple steps to stand directly in front of Mr. Mead. “Sassy Blaze hung herself in her cell. That got caught on surveillance and then her body disappeared. Do you know anything about that?”

“Sassy is dead?” His spine went erect, and he shook his head. “No, that can’t be right. That lunatic wants to murder the FBI Task Force team that imprisoned her. There’s no way she would kill herself.” He glared at Derek, and Derek stared back at him. “Wait a minute. You think I had something to do with Sassy hanging herself?”

“Did you?” Derek’s body went rigid.


About the Author:

S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning paranormal or supernatural suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan. 

She writes Adult and NA paranormal, supernatural, suspense romance novels.

For a current listing of her book links, check her author or publisher homepage below. She’s listed as: Davis, S. Peters

       
BWL PUblishing: http://bwlpublishing.ca







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