Thank you to Rachel from Rachel's Random Resources for inviting me to participate in the blog tour for A Stranger's Revenge, a new legal thriller by K.J.McGillick. A Stranger’s Revenge When art law attorney Abigail Clarke is mistaken for the murdered twin sister she never knew existed, will she be able to outwit a man determined to kill every member of her treacherous family. Thirty years ago, during a thunderstorm, on an isolated street in South Boston, an unidentified two-year-old girl was discovered, abandoned, shot, barely clinging to life. After a thorough investigation, the case was eventually designated to the cold case files until Abigail Clarke, now an astraphobic art law attorney, is mistaken for the murdered twin sister she never knew existed. What the FBI Art Crime Division cannot determine is if Abigail is an innocent bystander or a co-conspirator in her sister’s art fraud crimes. Compelled to uncover all her family’s secrets, nothing prepares Abigail for the disastrous meeting with her murderous brother and crime boss father. Her life is irreversibly changed the more she becomes mired in her family’s treachery. She soon finds herself drawn into a game of cat and mouse by the vengeful killer who methodically plans to execute every member of her family, holding each one of them ultimately responsible for the murder of his own family thirty years ago. Purchase Links UK / US My thoughts: This is my second book by Kathleen Mcgillick and I knew this newest book is also going to fast-paced, action-packed and impossible to put down. Exactly what it proved to be! Abby Clark is an attorney specialising in art law, so when a new client asks her to accompany him to an auction and assist him in purchasing two paintings, she sets aside her irrational distrust of the man and flies to Boston. The auction house unexpectedly withdraws the offer which clearly infuriates Abby's client. On her return home Abby finds out that FBI have identified her...as a possible murder victim. In fact, even Abby herself can't deny she looks a veritable doppelganger of the girl strangled in a dark alley in Boston. A quick DNA analysis confirms what was already obvious to everyone- the victim was Abby's twin sister Aisling Dolan, an Irish national. Abby herself was shot and left for dead at the age of two. While she has a loving family, great friends and fantastic career, she is also suffering from anxiety and abandonment issues related to her early childhood. Time to find out what exactly happened to Aisling and who exactly were her biological parents. Now Abby is quite an interesting character. She is loyal to her friends and her family, but she is obviously quite impulsive, even reckless. Some of her comments about Ireland rubbed me the wrong way- it was as if Abby was determined to see only negative things about her birthplace to simplify her complex feelings about what happened to her as a child. I wasn't so sure about her 'in-built lie detector'. One thing you have to give to Abby- she is decisive and always ready to act. Abby's grandma Stasha with her little thermos of Dutch courage (shhh, don't tell anyone) was a real hoot! I loved the little legal details introduced here and there in the book, from Abby giving her psychiatrist friend Maura help with her unusal predicament to Abby's 'hypothetical' conversation with her partner Gregory. It's clear that the author knows what she is writing about and knows how to pique and keep the reader's interest. The pace is fast and there is quite a high body count in this action-packed thriller. Some settings were extremely evocative and I could easily see this book adapted for the silver screen- Hollywood, are you listening? Overall, this was a very quick, compulsive read, perfect for anyone who enjoys suspense, action, international settings and books about stolen art. Looking forward to Kathleen's next book! Thank you to Rachel from Rachel's Random Resources and the author for the review copy, provided in exchange for an honest opinion. Author Bio –
Kathleen McGillick is an attorney by education and writes mainly suspense and thriller novels. She earned a B.S.N. from the University of Miami, and an M.S. from Adelphi University, after which she practiced nursing for seventeen years. In 1994, while working as a Registered Nurse, she earned a Juris Doctorate from the John Marshall School of Law in Atlanta, Georgia. Her solo law practice in which she specialized in Family Law for twenty-seven years, centered on meeting the needs of women and children. While practicing law, she turned to novel writing and has self-published ten novels that have recurring themes of legal intrigue and stolen art. As an avid international traveler, she incorporates many of the places she has traveled into the settings of her books. For the last fifteen years, she has immersed herself in the study of art history and the intrigue of crimes related to fakes and forgeries which she weaves into her character-driven complex plots. Born and raised in New York, she now resides in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. Kathleen is a grandmother of two teenage grandchildren and a mother to four fur babies. Social Media Links facebook / twitter / website / goodreads Falling for The Suitor
-- EXCERPT: One step, then another; a shuffle hop as a surge of excitement overshadows my nerves, and I grin in a foolish sort of way. Closer up, I see I was wrong; he’s more than cute. And taller than I expected. The blond hair gleams in the light, the eyes—I think… blue—crinkle at the corners. He’s a younger Brad Pitt, with a little Chris Evans thrown in, and the easy charm of Chris Pratt. He’s all the Chrises rolled into one baseball-playing, suit-wearing, nicely shaved, really cute… And then the way his gaze tracks my every move, his smile growing with my every step like he’s looking forward to this as much as I am, makes things tingle that haven’t tingled in a very long time. Finally, I’m standing before The Suitor, as nervous as Cinderella at the ball. “Hi.” I take a deep breath and my smile widens. “Hi.” I completely blank on his name.
GIVEAWAY! #Book Blitz #Damaged Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance by Nicole Snow @Xpresso Book Tours25/1/2022
Damaged Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance
-- EXCERPT: It’s ten a.m. I was supposed to meet Roland fifteen minutes ago, and I’m still slumming around in a t-shirt and panties. “Just a minu—ULP!” I yell, tumbling out of bed. Legs, meet sheets. Legs, get intimately acquainted with sheets. Legs, dump me face-first on the floor when I try standing with the sheets tangled around my calves. Yep, I basically just hog-tied myself. I go down hard, groaning as another knock rattles the door. This time, it’s firmer. “Callie? Are you all right in there?” Roland’s voice drifts through the thick wood. Oh, boy. “M’fine,” I mumble into the pillow that fell with me, thankfully cushioning my head smacking the floor. “Just tripped. Give me a sec.” He doesn’t say anything, but his silence whispers skepticism. Who could blame him? I fight off the sheets, totter to my feet, and dump the bedding back on the mattress before snagging a pair of running shorts from the suitcase I’d left open in the corner easy chair. Hopping on one foot, then the other, I shimmy into them, yanking them up over my hips. Then I stagger to the door and pull it open with my arms moving faster than my brain. Eep. One look at the bosshole makes me realize what a disheveled mess I am. We’re talking oversized shirt falling off one shoulder, hanging down just long enough to hide my tiny shorts. Bedhead hair sticking up like a cactus—I’m surprised I don’t scare him—and I don’t even want to know what I look like without my makeup. Especially not after sleeping with my face smooshed in a pillow. He’s my total opposite. How predicable. Even dressed down, he looks so cool and collected and put together that he’d wreck a GQ model. He’s just wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans with thick-soled black workmen’s boots—but it’s a designer shirt, designer jeans, designer boots in fine leather. The dark-grey shirt clings to his chest like it’s painted on, pouring over his beastly pecs and dipping down sculpted abs in ridged patterns. God. Even the stitching on the short sleeves strains against the rock-hard cut of his biceps like it’s struggling to hold them in. Dark, faded jeans hang low on his hips in the right and oh-so-wrong way, held in place by a leather belt that just barely keeps them from dipping down to pure sin. A little lower, and I know they’d reveal the narrow V of his pelvis. The fit hints at the power between his legs, from his thighs underneath to a piece of him I dare not imagine. Not if I want to keep my last worn thread of sanity.
GIVEAWAY! Violet Spark
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: A towering black-cloaked monolith of a man stalked me through my dreams. I ran, but too slow, my steps and my heart pounding to the ominous beat of The Imperial March… I cracked an eyelid, fumbled for my phone, and swiped my thumb across the clock app. Shit. Somehow I’d snoozed Darth Vader twice already and now had only fifteen minutes left before the start of my shift as manager at the Desert Freeze. I swung my feet to the floor. And I stepped on Gwumpki. With a vicious hiss, the ugly brown monster with his cabbage-green eyes buried all twenty-one claws in my bare ankle. I yelped and flinched back, accidentally flipping the damned polydactyl menace—still clinging to my foot—up onto the mattress. For one yowling heartbeat, I was tangled in fleece blanket, various wires trailing to my gaming system, and half-feral feline. “Motherf—” A rap at the door. “Imogen! Are you up? You’re going to be late for work.” As if I didn’t know that. “I’m up.” Sort of, but not like anybody was watching. The damn cat had probably sneaked in yesterday while I was at work, hunkered down while I gamed all night, just so he could attack me this morning while I was weak. I wriggled my foot out of his clutches after one last, nasty scratch across the back of my hand. Under the blanket, Gwumpki growled, brown tail lashing across my phone. I snatched the 3G embarrassment of a phone out from behind him. “Hate you too.” In the bathroom, the menthol odor of Mom’s CBD cream was almost as sharp as claws in my nose. She must’ve had a hard night, but I hadn’t heard anything through my headphones. Guilt bit into me even harder. Holding my breath, I peed, washed my hands, slicked my wet fingers through my hair to pull every long brown strand into a ponytail per the Desert Freeze employee handbook rules, and tugged on jeans and yesterday’s “Freeze Your Life Away!” t-shirt. It wasn’t that dirty. Except for the smear of blood. But that was fresh. “Dammit, Gwump.” I swabbed at the stain, mostly making it bigger. “Imogen! Breakfast is ready!” “Coming.” The thick sizzle-smell of scrambled eggs and veg was like quick-set concrete I had to wade through down the hall to the kitchen. I checked my texts, saw the one last night from Swann, and quickly stuffed the phone in my back pocket. Ugh, couldn’t think about that right now. “No time to eat, Mom.” I grabbed a travel mug from the drying rack next to the sink and poured myself half the coffee. “If you didn’t stay up so late…” Coming around the end of the kitchen counter, she held out a small container. The reusable plastic was scarred from thousands of baked zitis over the decade that she’d been a psychiatric nurse on the late shift. “You can’t keep playing your life away, Imogen.” “I’ll just grab something from work,” I said as I backed away from the leftovers. Her shuffling steps were too slow to catch me, and I darted out of the kitchen, grabbing my bag from the low table in the front hall. It was like high school all over again. Except worse. “Have a good day,” she called from the kitchen. “Love you, honey.” “Love you too.” But I was already shutting the door between us. The chilly desert morning air was like a slap in the face—one of those light slaps an evil lord gives his soon-to-be-dead minion, halfway between amused and alarming. Not that Arbolito, Arizona had a lot of evil lords. It didn’t have a lot of anything besides strip malls. Mom bought half the Mission Revival duplex in this suburban subdivision for its magnet school, not its originality. Not that it ever got that chilly. But fifties was cold enough for my thin blood that I wished I was still snuggled in my fleecy blanket. Except Gwumpki was there, wrapped up like the ground chuck cabbage roll he was named after. And now I had, like, ten minutes to get to work. With a sigh, I balanced the coffee in the crook of my arm while I wrestled with the Fiesta’s finicky lock. Wouldn’t it just be my luck if the key broke off? The top popped off the travel mug, and black coffee sloshed… But I caught it with just a tiny splash across the back of my claw-marked hand. “Ha!” No caffeine lost. It’s the little victories in life that matter. And I made it to the Desert Freeze with two minutes to spare.
GIVEAWAY! #Book Blitz #Nothing Left to Lose by A.J. Willis #Psychological Thriller @Xpresso Book Tours25/1/2022
Nothing Left To Lose
-- EXCERPT: Where the hell is she? It’s gone half nine and a niggle of worry rumbles in my gut. A vision of Abi on a hospital trolley flashes through my mind. I shove it away. I’m being silly. Worrying unnecessarily. I’m sure she’s fine. I snatch up my phone and hit the redial button, willing her to answer, hoping for a slurred apology and the sound of music thumping in the background. At least I would know she was safe. I listen to a long hiss-filled silence, the blood gushing through my ears. A click. Her voice. And for a split second, I dare to believe I’m through. ‘Abi?’ ‘You’ve reached Abigail Pilkington-Hutton. I can’t take your call right now but leave a message.’ I slump in my chair and pinch the bridge of my nose as I ring off, my heart beating a little faster and a little harder. A kaleidoscope of images of my wife’s body dumped by the side of the road, bleeding, lifeless, her eyes staring blankly, spiral through my head. Stop it. I refuse to be that husband. She’s perfectly capable of looking after herself. She’s not a child. And yet, I can’t help but worry. Of course, the lasagne’s ruined. A fiery blast stings my face as I flip open the oven door. I step back to let the curls of steam rush towards the ceiling and peer inside despondently at the charred remains. Shavings of Parmesan cheese are blackened beyond salvation and crusty tracks of meat sauce have bubbled up and hardened over the sides of the ceramic dish. It’s as good as cremated, even though I turned the heat down hours ago. I slam the door shut. Wasting good food irks me, especially when I’ve put effort into cooking. It’s not as if it’s one of those vile cardboard-tasting ready meals, straight out of a packet. It’s an authentic Italian recipe from a dusty old cookbook I picked up in a secondhand bookstore in town. I used a pinch of rosemary and cubes of pan-fried pancetta for the ragu and a sprinkling of nutmeg in the bechamel sauce. A surprise treat to celebrate the end of Abi’s trial. I’ve lost count of the number of evenings and weekends she’s given up working on the case. The missed bedtime stories with the girls. The hours going through witness statements “one more time”. After everything she’s sacrificed over the last couple of months, I thought tonight we could spend some time together. But she’s not come home and her phone’s off.
GIVEAWAY! Killer Runway
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Bianca returned to her seat. “I know, Mel. It’s just unnerving. She’s almost seventeen, has a boyfriend, and close to graduating high school.” A hmm escaped Melanie’s lips. “I know. I still can’t believe it, but enough of that. We’re here to support Sherry and have some fun!” Bianca giggled at her sister’s enthusiasm, forgetting the empty nester syndrome that was creeping up her spine. Once 112’s song concluded, the lights dimmed. A shush took over the room, and Bianca crossed her legs. Melanie practically squealed in her seat. Spotlights and special lighting highlighted the catwalk. Then Bianca heard a woman’s voice over the microphone. Thanks to the camera zooming in, Bianca could get a better look at the image on the monitor. The woman was curvy, with long, strawberry-blonde hair and a bright smile dancing across her full face. Though she had only talked to her through Zoom when she hired her, Bianca recognized Giselle Porter. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I’m your host, Giselle, and I’m happy to present to you this evening, our Clique Classic fashion showcase!” The audience applauded and cheered. “Amazing!” Melanie squealed. Giselle continued. “We’ll be including our classic pieces this evening. “I’m also pleased to announce that since the scenery of this Edenville has struck me, I want our models to have their pictures taken around town after tonight’s first show! So… we’re going to be in Edenville for the next month!” The crowd cheered again. “All month? That’s amazing!” Melanie exclaimed to her sister over the applause. Bianca’s lips parted, speechless. Imagine how much publicity a month-long fashion event would bring to the town? Were more models attending? That would be a perfect networking opportunity for Bianca, since she did the graphics for the fashion show. Giselle already wrote a five-star review on her website. It was a matter of time before new clients came Bianca’s way. Giselle said, “For tonight, we’re going to give you a preview of our upcoming summer line!” More cheers, and whoops erupted from the crowd. Bianca giggled at the excitement. While she purchased nothing from Clique Classic herself—too out-of-the-box for her simple taste—the clothing line had a few items that piqued her interest. When she spotted Alyssa making her way back to her seat, Bianca stood to her feet. She noticed Alyssa looked back a few times, but she didn’t break her stride. When her daughter reached her, she touched her arm. “Everything okay?” she asked her. Alyssa shrugged. “Sure I guess. I thought I saw… I’m sure it was nothing.” She sat in her chair and adjusted in her seat. “What? Something happen?” Melanie leaned over to hear. Bianca sat next to her daughter. She didn’t know why her mind returned to the man from the day before. Sandy brown haired man who’d been looking for Sherry. “What did you see?” Alyssa shook her head. “I couldn’t tell Mom. Like I said, it was probably nothing. There’s a lot of people here, anyway.” Alyssa tucked a curl behind her ear, and while Bianca didn’t want to accuse her daughter of not telling the truth, her mother’s intuition sensed there was more to the story. “Here we go!” Melanie pointed to the stage. Bianca refocused and joined in the cheering as the first line of models came from behind the sheer curtains. Hands on their hips, the women walked the catwalk as if they owned it. Black and white were their colors. A platinum blonde wore a block-colored dress, black and white. The other woman’s hair was jet black, long, and she was wearing a striped black-and-white dress. “I love the stripes,” Melanie chimed in her ear, despite the loud music. Bianca pointed to the platinum blonde. “I think I like hers better.” Melanie nudged her shoulder as the next set of models joined the stage. The first two exited. Giselle continued. “Short and sweet is the cool, summery look here, ladies and gentlemen. Our models are wearing khaki elastic shorts with red-orange jungle print tops, which look so cute with their open necks and cap sleeves. You can’t go wrong in this simple yet stylish outfit.” The audience applauded once more. Alyssa’s mouth dropped. “I love it!” “Not bad,” Bianca commented, although she couldn’t see herself in red-orange. Covering her mouth, she stifled her giggle. “There’s Sherry!” Melanie exclaimed while pointing towards the stage. Bianca smiled while admiring Sherry’s outfit. Her knee-length, pearl-white dress with a jewel neckline was breathtaking. Her shoes? Red pumps. The camera zoomed in on Sherry’s face briefly, showcasing her flawless complexion. Bianca had to ask her about the red pumps. The height of the heel was perfect. “Is she okay?” Alyssa asked. Bianca blinked, focusing back on Sherry’s face. The model touched a hand to her forehead for a moment, but then placed a hand on her hip. She continued her model walk, swaying to the runway music. “If you’re looking for an ensemble on a special night out, you’ll love this sleek yet stylish pearl white dress,” Giselle said. Bianca stared at Sherry. The woman lost her balance but tried to play it off. She forced a smile and continued. “Something’s not right,” Melanie said. “I know.” Bianca couldn’t pinpoint it, but despite Sherry’s flawless makeup, she looked pale.
GIVEAWAY! Thank you to Rachel from Rachel's Random Resources for inviting me to participate in the blog tour for Hunted, the latest instalment in DC Bailey Morgan series of police procedurals by Caro Savage. Hunted Someone is out to murder Detective Constable Bailey Morgan before she can testify in an upcoming trial. Using her undercover skills, Bailey embarks on a dangerous mission to help the police catch this elusive killer before it’s too late. But it won’t be easy for she’s up against a cunning and ruthless adversary who will stop at nothing to eliminate her. A tense game of cat and mouse ensues, leading to a shocking revelation at the heart of which lies the key to Bailey’s survival. Purchase My thoughts: The DC Bailey Morgan is one of my favourite series of police procedurals and I think it keeps getting better and better! If you haven't read the first two books (Jailbird and Villain, both published by Boldwood Books), don't worry, the author provided a brief summary of what exactly happened to Bailey in the past and how it still affects her daily life. Having said that, these are spoilers and if I were you, I'd start from the beginning and enjoy this very well-written series. Similarly to the first two books, Caro Savage opens this latest instalment with a bang- a professional killer is trying to get information out of a Senior Crown Prosecutor on the only witness in an upcoming trial. Yes, you've guessed it, the witness is our intrepid undercover police officer Bailey Morgan. Once, the victim is found, it is clear that Bailey's life is in grave danger. The undercover operations department have a bold suggestion for Bailey- she is to become a bait for the fantom killer, nicknamed Rex. The hunt begins...and it isn't immediately obvious who is hunting who or who is going to prevail in the end. I found all aspects of the book fascinating. Bailey is a complex character, still dealing with the aftermath of her first undercover job. One thing is indisputable- Bailey has a strong moral compass and a kind and comassionate heart. Is it wrong of me to say that I found the character of Rex utterly fascinating?I don't want to give away the twist that took me by surprise and completely changed Rex and Bailey's deadly game of hunt and surival, both mental and physical. The pace is absolutely fantastic in this book with its short, action-packed chapters. I found it absolutely impossible to put the book down until its gripping, nail-biting climax and epilogue. I dearly love having a peek at the last pages, but this time I wasn't tempted at all- I knew the book is to be savoured, page by page. I can honestly say that I've become a big fan of Caro Savage and can't wait for her next book to come out. Highly recommended to anyone who enjoys a well-written, fast-paced police procedural with a strong female lead. Author Bio – Caro Savage knows all about bestselling thrillers having worked as a Waterstones bookseller for 12 years in a previous life. Now taking up the challenge personally and turning to hard-hitting crime thriller writing, Jailbird was published by Boldwood in October 2019. Social Media Links Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter Thank you for reading the post! Have a wonderful Monday! Eau De Parfum: Eric’s Story Short
Pre-order the next books in the series: -- EXCERPT: His glance was quick and furtive. Nostrils flaring, Eric recoiled from the gore around him and the smell of death saturating the air. He held back a scream. Where am I? The irregular beat of his heart pounded in his ears like a truck accelerating under a bridge. Although the room was murky, the red ochre stains decorating the floor and walls like abstract paintings remained vivid. What had happened here? Eric sat naked, covered in blood, but alive. He lifted himself onto his knees. Everything hurt. He stared at the carnage that was his body and gagged. Teeth marks littered his arms, creating holes and 1 revealing muscle. Someone or something had attempted to gnaw off an elbow. The tears in his thigh reached bone. Eric yanked his hand to cover the wound then tore it away. Half-healed scabs and open sores covered from fingers to wrist. Is this what it’s like to be dead? How long have I been here? Like this? Memories surged back to him. A few days ago, he and the rest of the survivors had taken refuge in this old movie theater, but Streakers found them. The maggoty swarm had assembled along the large glass windows and doors. Agitated, held back from their sustenance, the zombies writhed and swayed against the barrier. Dead eyes had stared from outside. Decayed, naked bodies, twisted limbs, peeling skin, and pustules, the Streakers blurred into a mirage of rot and decay. Many lacked clothes, leaving everything that hadn’t decomposed dangling in the open air. His friends, Jenna and Caleb, had tried to herd Eric and his twin brother, Billy, to safety, but he’d pushed them away. Nearly sixteen, he had wanted to prove himself. The shattering window had left him frozen in fear. One of the zombies focused its lifeless eyes on him. A sound? Eric’s thoughts rushed into the present. Quiet. What happened to his friends? Had they all perished? Worse, had they abandoned him? The crunch and crackle of broken glass had Eric jumping to his feet and heart thumping against his ribs. Adrenaline flooded aching limbs into action. Frantic, he searched the ground for a weapon but found nothing. He sprinted, pain in each step, to the corner and waited. There was little else to do.
GIVEAWAY! Doolittle
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: In the last three months, I’d been with Satyr a handful of times. I’d been coming here less and less. If it weren’t for Brick requesting my presence tonight, I probably wouldn’t have come. When he’d asked me to join him for a drink, I hadn’t been able to say no. Brick reached out and grabbed my hand. “I know this isn’t how you wanted things to end. We were all hoping Satyr would pull his head out of his ass.” “You’ve all been warning me for a while now. Everyone knew he’d never want me as more than easy pussy. It was stupid for me to think he might change his mind.” “Minnie, he’s my brother and I have to side with him, but… I think he’s missing out on something special with you. It’s been clear from the beginning you’re different from most of the women who come here.” Brick patted my hand. “Which is why Beast would like to run an idea by you. Head on back to his office. He’s expecting you.” I stood and went down the back hall and knocked on the President’s door. I’d wondered why he was here on a party night. Ever since he’d claimed Lyssa, he’d started heading home when things heated up at the clubhouse. I couldn’t blame him. His wife was wonderful. “Come in,” he barked. I opened the door and stepped inside, leaving it open so no one would get the wrong idea. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Brick said you wanted to see me,” I said. He nodded. “I know things haven’t worked out well for you here. You plan on staying in town?” I shrugged a shoulder. “I have a job and an apartment, but… I really don’t want to see Satyr around town if I can avoid it. There’s nothing holding me here. My job isn’t exactly fabulous.” “I heard you have some experience with animals,” he said. “The human variety or the furred type?” I asked. He smirked. “Probably both, but I meant the kind with feathers, fur, or scales.” “I do. I worked in the kennels at a boarding place during high school. I mostly dealt with dogs and cats though.” “There’s someone with the Devil’s Fury arriving here tonight. He’s bringing a puppy for the kids. Someone tossed it into a sack and tried to drown it. Goes by the name of Doolittle.” I wasn’t sure what that had to do with me. Was he asking me to pet sit whenever he went out of town? I must have looked as confused as I felt because he smiled and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his desk. “The Devil’s Fury are down in Georgia. Doolittle isn’t just one of their patched members, but he’s also a veterinarian. Owns a local practice. I mentioned your situation to him, and he’d like to help.” “Help how?” I asked. “Meet with him and hear him out. He’d like to hire you to work in the kennels at his clinic, but also to help with the animals he takes home. He has an entire sunroom filled with all sorts of critters that need attention. Sound like something that might interest you?” I nodded. “It does. Not sure trading one club for another is the smartest idea though.” “You wouldn’t be a club whore there, Minnie. It’s a fresh start for you. No one in town will know your past, except the Devil’s Fury officers and Doolittle. None of them are going to say a damn word to anyone. Even though some of their other members have been here a time or two, I know you didn’t spend time with them. I doubt they’d remember seeing you here. Just think about it.”
GIVEAWAY! Spindrifts
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: Fania’s Journal: An excerpt from Spindrifts by A-M Mawhiney © 2021 I’m supposed to write in my journal every day. Sure. Like that’s the best use of my time. They said it’d be a private place to think, but I’ve wondered about that. I can think in my head without writing my thoughts. Just in case, I always use my disconnected tablet for the real journal, encrypted with three protective codes and in a language I developed myself. I know this might be over the top, but I’ve felt better knowing no one can read my actual journal. So, people can read how excited I am about my apprenticeship, but privately I’m totally dissed. I really want to learn about people From Away, and instead I’m apprenticing with Granny, my great-grandmother, who’s spent most of her life close to home in her research laboratory, two miles down an ancient mine shaft. It used to be where they studied mysteries of the universe! How the heck did that work? I’ve always loved Granny. I’ve felt as though we’ve had a special relationship, and I’ve missed spending time with her. I just never thought they’d give me a responsibility so far removed from what I really want to be doing. Ezma told me I’ve many skills and a strong aptitude for analytical thinking. I know what that means. It means sitting in an underground lab every day for the rest of my life. I guess I wasn’t very good at hiding my feelings because Ezma felt she had to remind me what Granny does is very important. Then she asked me a curious question. “Do you know what she does?” Well, of course I do! I explained, “Granny is the researcher who found the serum. She said it was a fluke.” That comment made Ezma laugh, hysterically almost. “Well, Fania, you’ll find there’s a lot you can learn from Alicia. I hope you’ll keep an open mind.” When I boarded the transport to head home after two years at Immersion, my patch reminded me to change my timer back to the village’s schedule. The health patch is a misnomer; it’s actually an up-to-date example of bio-merged nanotechnology. This latest gen’s so far advanced compared to the primitive models my grandparents used when they were young—those things they wore on their wrists. Now the healer implants the technology at birth where it merges with our brainwaves. It has reciprocal transformational capabilities, but I’ve been told there are limitations so it can’t change the basic personality or natural abilities of anyone. The patch transmits and receives communications, monitors personal health data, and provides all my reading materials. Everyone in our territory has them, so far as I know.
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