GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE “A VIOLET SEASON” by Kathy Leonard Czepiel ENDED

CMash July 11, 2012 14 Comments

JULY 11th to JULY 25th, 2012

A VIOLET SEASON
by KATHY LEONARD CZEPIEL

SYNOPSIS:

A mother’s choices in a time of crisis threaten the one person she means to protect—her only daughter—and force her to make the boldest move of her life.
The violet industry is booming in 1898, and a Hudson Valley farm owned by the Fletcher family is turning a generous profit for its two oldest brothers. But Ida Fletcher, married to the black sheep youngest brother, has taken up wet nursing to help pay the bills, and her daughter, Alice, has left school to work. As they risk losing their share of the farm, the two women make increasingly great sacrifices for their family’s survival, sacrifices that will set them against one another in a lifelong struggle for honesty and forgiveness. Vivid and compelling, A Violet Season is the story of an unforgettable mother-daughter journey in a time when women were just waking to their own power and independence.

THANKS TO AUTHOR, KATHY LEONARD CZEPIEL,

I HAVE ONE ( 1 ) COPY OF THIS
BOOK TO GIVE AWAY.
HERE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO WIN.

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PLEASE NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAVE
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Giveaway copies are supplied and shipped to winners via publisher,
the giveaway on behalf of the
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ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.

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Guest Author, Partners In Crime Tours, Showcase

Guest Author Helga Zeiner

CMash July 8, 2012 1 Comment

Today I am elated to have the opportunity to reintroduce you to my guest. Please indulge me so that I can explain why I am beyond thrilled.

Helga was a guest author back in May. At the time, I was behind in my requested review reading schedule and was unable to read and review her book. However, we traded emails regarding her showcase. She asked me about Partners In Crime Tours and decided to book a tour. I have since read her book and it is riveting!! Could not put it down.

Not only is she an amazing writer but a very kind, generous and thoughtful person who I now consider a friend. And today is her kick off and first stop as she starts her 2 month tour. Please meet author and friend, Ms. Helga Zeiner!!

HELGA ZEINER

Helga Zeiner is a Canadian and German citizen

At the age of 18, Helga completed her arts degree at the Art School of Bavaria, and then left Germany.

She lived and worked for two years in Australia, and twelve years in Hong Kong.

Since 2004 she has lived with her husband Manfred in the wilderness of British Columbia, about 5 hours north of Vancouver. There they own over 500 acres which they have developed into a gated cabin community, the Rainbow Country Estate.

For as long as she can remember, Helga has been writing novels, usually in her spare time. Today most of her time is devoted to writing, but she also manages the land development company, is politically active, enjoys outdoor sports and loves smoking cigars.
You can visit Helga at her Website, and on Facebook, and Twitter.

GUEST POST

“How did I research this subject”

Since Section 132 was published, I have been complimented quite often on the extensive research I had undertaken for this novel. Although the story is fictional, it is based on true events which took place in Canada and America. I therefore felt compelled to get all the relevant details right before I could create a tale that would grip the reader and transport him into this weird and freaky world.

Readers have asked me how on earth one researches a polygamous sect. Go under-cover? Infiltrate them somehow? Get in touch with and interview women and teenagers who managed to escape? Or did I maybe, just maybe, write from personal experience? Had I possibly been a sister-wife myself?

Well, it’s not quite that spectacular. It simply took years of painstaking, traditional subject matter research. I worked diligently on collecting supporting facts. I read many books, biographies, anything I could find about the history of the Mormon religion and their off-shoot cult FLDS (Fundamentalist Church of Later Day Saints), the biography of its founder Joseph Smith, of their Prophet Warren Jeffs, as well as many accounts of women who had escaped the cult.

I closely followed a court case at the BC Supreme Court which had to decide if polygamy should be made legal in this Canadian province. This case was brought before the courts by the Bishop of the Canadian polygamous sectBountifulwho argued it on the grounds of religious freedom. Luckily, the judge ruled that polygamy is harmful to women and children and will therefore continue to be illegal.

Eventually I got hold of the ‘Book of Mormon’ and the attached “Doctrine & Covenants’ written by Josef Smith. There I found “Section 132’ which covers the holy covenant of ‘The Principle of Plural Marriage’ (polygamy!) and provides the religious justification for the strange rule that one man must have several wives. It was quite a read!

In the course of this research I got in touch with a wonderful group of University Women who have formed the ‘Bountiful Round-table’ as well as the ‘West Coast Leaf Lawyers Association’ – both groups are actively working toward their goal of banning polygamy in our society altogether.

Finally, I was contacted by members of a fairly clandestine organization who had heard about my efforts. As they are pro-active in rescuing women who try to escape the cult, they have met with some serious opposition in the higher echelons of the FLDS and have made quite a few enemies. They checked me out thoroughly before allowing me to join their closed group. I was honored to be able to collect further data this way. You can imagine what valuable insights, sometimes heart breaking and infuriating, I could gather through those channels.

All in all, it has taken me several years before I even wrote the first sentence. Although I have taken liberties with the truth and let my imagination run rampant, which is my prerogative as a novelist, there is still a very chilling element of authenticity in this story.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Lillian is only 13 when her parents marry her to a middle-aged Bishop of a fundamentalist sect who practices polygamy. She is forced to live with her new husband’s many wives and children on his compound tucked away in the Canadian wilderness.

The hardships of poverty and isolation have crushed the will of just about everybody in his flock. They suffer in silent submissiveness, trying to please their despotic leader. He justifies the humiliating treatment of his dependents by citing ‘Section 132 of the Doctrine & Covenants’ of his fundamentalist religion.

Until, one day, Lillian had enough. But it is dangerous to try and escape the Bishop’s iron rule. He practices blood-atonement, which is quietly sanctioned by the ‘Gatekeepers’, an American secret society within the Fundamentalist Mormon Church.

Lillian must find out-side help if she ever wants to leave the Bishop’s compound – but how can she do this if she is locked up without any means of communication?

Lillian doesn’t know how life outside a compound functions. She only knows that she can not live like this much longer. Many questions plaque her troubled mind.

Why do her sister-wives put up with this hardship, knowing only a bleak future lies ahead of them? Where do the child-brides come from, the Bishop keeps adding to his family? Where do some of his daughters disappear to, once they come of age? Lillian’s defiance grows with every injustice she witnesses – until she can’t hide her rebellion any longer.

Her desperate struggle to escape draws the reader into a very dark, very dangerous place. But not all is hopeless. When land developer Richard Bergman buys the neighboring property, Lillian’s luck seems to be changing …

Read an excerpt:

Martha knew the Bishop was coming for her. His boots stomped toward the office, and when he unlocked the door, she moved back to the opposite wall, trying to melt into it. The room was only about ten feet deep, and he was threateningly close as soon as he had entered. She saw the gun strap slung over his shoulder. Marion was beside him, her face still wet from crying, but already setting into a mask of acceptance and denial. Empty eyes buried in a stone hard expression. With only minimal movement of her body, she looked like a motionless statue, placed there only as an accessory to her husband, an extension of his wrath, coming alive only to cater to his demands. For the moment, he needed nothing of her except to observe him in all his glory as the executor of the faith.
Martha was not scared of him, but she was terrified of the unknown. What cruelty had he planned for her? Would she have to suffer long? It would be easier to bear if she knew what to expect.
She didn’t have to wait long.
“Get out of here, you worthless piece of shit!” he snapped at her. He slipped the gun strap off his shoulder and casually swung the hunting rifle in front of his massive torso like a trophy. “Here, see this! Fear this! It is the Lord’s instrument of vengeance. He has appointed me to be his executioner. Commanded me to exterminate filthy vermin like you. Get out, you slut, so I can punish you for your sins!” He came closer, lowered the weapon and prodded her thigh with the tip of the rifle. Martha jumped sideways and was forced to move forward and slide past him to the door.
He directed her with his weapon. “Bitch! Out with you! Outside! We don’t want a mess in here. Out you go, you miserable creature! I’ll show you who your master is. Move it, bitch, don’t drag your feet.”
Martha moved a little faster. She was numb, didn’t even feel herself walking past Marion who remained grotesquely frozen in her stance.
The Bishop kept pushing her forward, down the hallway, to the back entrance of the house. “Go, go, go. Let’s have a little target practise. You’d better move a bit faster, or it won’t be fun at all. Outside you go.”
He pushed her through the back door and out into the yard. “When I count to three, you run. If you make it over there, I’ll let you live. The Lord will decide.”
The distance from the house to the trees was much larger than she remembered. But it didn’t matter; he would get her anyway. Best to go slow, otherwise he might miss and only injure her.
“One!”
Martha took a deep breath. He slammed his rifle painfully into her back. She nearly lost her balance.
“Two!”
She forgot her resolution to be an easy target and instinctively started to run.
“Threeeee….”
She ran as fast as she could, trying to get away from his horrible ‘eeeee’. She practically flew over the ground, driven by her survival instinct, until she stumbled, lost her balance and fell face down on the ground. A sharp slash whipped viciously through her whole body, ripping her insides apart. She was surprised to hear herself groaning, although the excruciating pain of a moment ago subsided into shocked numbness. He had not finished her! Mixed into her total confusion of being shot at, lying on the ground and not feeling any pain, was the realization that something did not fit into the whole scenario. Something did not make sense. She had heard him counting and his final endless, blood curling “eeeeeeeee” still rang in her ears. She was on her knees now, slumped forward to steady herself with her hands, and turning sideways to look behind her.
He was also on the ground, holding his side with one hand, the rifle lying next to him. His “eeeeee” had evaporated into a whimper. At the same instant Martha saw the shape of a woman running away from him. Nothing but billowing skirts in a hasty retreat, impetuously heading for the protection of the trees. Anna! Already she had reached the trees. A safe haven for the fleeing Anna; as it would be for her, if she could reach it before he recovered from the injury Anna had inflicted on him. He was already shaking his head like a wounded bear, groaning in an effort to get the nasty foreign object that incapacitated him out of his flank. Martha did not see what had injured him so badly that the air had been knocked out of his lungs, but it must have weakened him considerably. He was wheezing, coughing and gurgling in his angry attempts to regain his stability and was slowly steadying himself.
If only she had not been hurt – if only she could reach the cover of the forest before he recovered from the surprise attack. She forced herself to try and scramble to her feet, surprised that she was still in one piece and not cut into two like she had thought. Where did it hurt? Even more surprised, she realized that she was not hurting at all. Her brain finally solved the mystery that had puzzled her before. No shot had been fired! On his last count she had only heard his scream but no shot – no bullet had been flying in her direction. She had stumbled and fallen, that was all. The pain had been imaginary.
By now her legs were firmly on the ground, holding her weight, and she started to run. She looked back once and increased her efforts to reach the tree line when she saw that he was already on his knees, groping blindly for his weapon. She literally flew across the yard, her skirt bunched up high, with her feet barely touching the ground. The forest. The trees. There they were. She ran past the first few trees, getting deeper into the woods before she pressed herself behind one wide trunk, panting heavily. She dared to look back. He was nowhere to be seen. He had moved. Where to? She knew her panting was too loud, but she could not stop it, her lungs were screaming for oxygen.
It was mercifully dark in the forest, but he only needed to follow the wheezing sounds she made to find her. Anger welled up inside her. She wanted to live! Why hadn’t Anna finished him! She must have been too weak. If only she had a weapon. The frustration of being so helpless made her even more angry. I will fight him, she thought. This time, I will scratch his eyes out before he can hurt me again. Martha slid down the tree trunk until she cowered on the wet cold ground, making herself as small a target as possible. She concentrated on the sounds of the night. He was injured and furious, he would not approach like a seasoned hunter but would storm through the darkness in search of her. When she heard him coming, she could hide or run away from him. She wasn’t quite sure what she would do, but this time she would not make it easy for him.

Book Details:
Published by POW WOW Books
Publication Date: July 1, 2011
Genre: Suspense
ISBN-10: 0986879800
ISBN-13: 978-0986879807
Number of pages: 458
Purchase links: Amazon link B&N link

THANKS TO THE GENEROSITY OF AUTHOR, HELGA ZEINER,
I HAVE ONE (1) EBOOK EDITION TO GIVE AWAY.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO THE
GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE. OPEN TO ALL.

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com,
Barnes & Noble and/or any other retail/wholesale
outlets either online and/or elsewhere.
I am providing this link solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.
I do not receive any monetary compensation from any parties

Guest Author, Showcase

Guest Author Luba Lesychyn

CMash July 7, 2012 2 Comments

Question for you!! What’s better than a good mystery? Well, if you are like me, then it would be a good mystery and chocolate!! And those were the 2 words I saw when Carissa contacted me about today’s author. Plus there will be two (2) separate giveaways, a Grand Prize, which the publisher, Attica Books is sponsoring and a giveaway here!!! Make sure to follow all directions for both!! So have a seat, grab your box of chocolates and please help me give a warm welcome to author, Luba Lesychyn!

LUBA LESYCHYN

Soon after finishing her graduate studies in history, Luba landed on the doorstep of Canada’s largest museum, the Royal Ontario Museum where she worked for more than 20 years. Moving from positions in the education and programs departments to the museum’s consulting branch, she concluded her career in the office that managed the museum’s recent controversial architectural renovation. After leaving the museum, Luba worked for several years in an administrative and research capacity for a private museum consulting firm with offices in Toronto and London. She currently works in the educational sector and teaches yoga in her home town of Toronto.

Theft by Chocolate is Luba’s debut novel though she has been amusing people with her writing since the age of eight. Her love of chocolate precedes this age and she has been in and out of chocolate rehab for most of her adult life. When not writing or looking for her next chocolate fix, Luba can be found in dance classes, trekking to remote waterfalls in the mountain rain forest in Puerto Rico, running through the streets of Paris or any other number of calorie-burning activities that help offset her chocolate intake.

GUEST POST

Inspired by True Events – Really!

I had long completed the first draft of Theft By Chocolate when I had a chance encounter with an individual that would send me back to my computer to completely reconfigure the plot of my sassy museum mystery about a capricious woman of a certain age looking for chocolate, love and an international art thief in all the wrong places. While working as an executive assistant at a city college in an office that was managing the construction of a new campus, I happened to mention my writing to a security consultant working on our project.

In particular, I brought up the fact that I had worked for the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto for the greater part of my career and that I had drawn on my experiences at the museum for inspiration for the story that revolved around a heist. The consultant’s eyes widened almost to the size of saucers and he whispered to me, “We need to have a chat about this.” Somewhat taken aback, but intrigued to the max, I suggested we get together sooner than later to have our “chat.” I was already a third of the way into a major rewrite of the novel and I did not want to delay our discussion.

Within a week we sat down at a table of a retro diner where “my informant” proceeded to tell me his family had worked in the security industry for decades and that he had insider information about the infamous opal collection theft that had taken place at the Royal Ontario Museum in the late 1980s (my employment at ROM started after the theft had taken place). It was common knowledge that the thief was never identified nor apprehended and that the jewels had eventually turned up in a black market in Hong Kong.

What was not common knowledge, as the security consultant continued to share with me, was that the thief had used an ingenious technique that stunned the security industry around the world. The culprit managed to circumvent what was considered state-of-the art technology in its day, a technology that was being used universally, not just in museums and art galleries, but in banks and businesses. International law keepers realized it wouldn’t be long before thieves around the world heard about the daring robbery and how it was executed. Basically, the planet’s riches, both great and small were suddenly at risk.

It was this piece of information and some additional material gleaned from rare newspaper articles about the theft that formed the crux of the final version of Theft By Chocolate. My work is fiction and includes characters derived from my imagination, but the real events provided a strong backbone upon which I was able to add imagined flesh. Still, the mysterious and unique real-life theft continues to haunt me. I may just have to put on an investigative journalist’s hat some day to determine whether, after more than three decades, some new information might be uncovered which could shed new light upon the events that shaped Theft By Chocolate.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Mystery, Mayans and Mayhem: looking for chocolate, love and an international art thief in all the wrong places.

Chocolate addict Kalena Boyko wasn’t prepared for this. Heading to work at Canada’s largest museum as an administrator, she hoped for quiet and uninterrupted access to her secret chocolate stash. Instead she’s assigned to manage the high-profile Treasures of the Maya exhibition with her loathed former boss Richard Pritchard.

With no warning, her life is turned inside out and propelled into warp speed as she stumbles across an insider plot that could jeopardize the exhibit and the reputation of the museum.

After hearing about a recent botched theft at the museum and an unsolved jewel heist in the past from security guard and amateur sleuth Marco Zeffirelli, Kalena becomes suspicious of Richard and is convinced he’s planning to sabotage the Treasures of the Maya exhibition. Her suspicions, and the appearance of the mysterious but charming Geoffrey Ogden from the London office, don’t help her concentration. The Treasures of the Maya seem cursed as problem after problem arises, including the disappearance of a key artifact – the world’s oldest piece of chocolate…

THANKS TO AUTHOR, LUBA LESYCHYN, I HAVE ONE (1)
EBOOK EDITION TO GIVE AWAY. OPEN TO ALL.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO THE
CMASH BLOG GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

GRAND PRIZE GIVEAWAY SPONSORED BY ATTICA BOOKS:

Theft By Chocolate Giveaway at Every Blog Stop

Please leave a comment below and your email address to be entered to win an ebook copy of Theft By Chocolate, the new release by Luba Lesychyn. In five days, a winner will be chosen at random and notified via email. Available in any ebook format. Remember to write your email address in the comments so that you can be contacted if you win!

$150 Gift Certificate Giveaway of Grand Prize on July 31st

Do you love chocolate as much as Kelana, the heroine in Theft By Chocolate? Here’s your chance to indulge in $150 US worth! The Giveaway Grand Prize is a gift certificate to a delectable chocolate online retailer. Winner chooses from one of three sites: http://www.chocosphere.com/, http://www.hotelchocolat.co.uk/ , or http://www.dlea.com.au/. To be eligible for the Grand Prize, enter the Rafflecopter below. Remember to sign up for Luba’s email announcements (worth five entries). On occasion she’ll send out exclusive announcements for special events, blog posts, giveaways and free swag! On July 31^st, the winner will be chosen at random and notified via email.
a Rafflecopter giveaway

DISCLAIMER
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

Guest Author, Showcase

Guest Author Gary Kassay

CMash July 6, 2012 Leave a Comment

If you are a regular follower of my blog, then you know that I love a great mystery. So when Amy from Sapphire Star Publishing contacted me regarding today’s guest and after reading the synopsis of his book, I wanted to hear more. Please join me in welcoming Gary Kassay to the CMash blog!!

GARY KASSAY

Gary Kassay, author of the Duke Becker Series, is a former member of the NYPD Transit K-9 Unit. Besides a career as a Police Officer, he has been the owner of a commercial photo company, an X-ray tech for humans and animals, and a TSA employee. He now resides in Casper, Wyoming with his wife Raella, three dogs, and one black cat.

When Gary is not working on the next installment of his Duke Becker series, he enjoys spending quiet times with his wife, reading, and when there isn’t snow on the ground, a good round of golf.

GUEST POST

First I would like to thank Cheryl Masciarelli for allowing me to do a guest blog. It is greatly appreciated and couldn’t have come at a better time. Yesterday was the release of the first in the Duke Becker Series, Murder in Silence. My publishing company, Sapphire Star Publishing has been fantastic and I hope that you will check out the book. Many of my ideas for plots and characters come from experiences and people that I have met. Then there is the other way.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
Edgar Allan Poe

I dream every night, nights when I fall into a deep sleep, which is rare, nights when I am aware that I am in bed sleeping and yet dreaming and nights when I lay awake, my mind still forming dreams. Sometimes they are very soothing, happy dreams of times past, people I have known and loved or so ridiculous that I actually laugh out loud, (as I have been told by my wife). These dreams are far and few between and they never lead to anything more than a smile and waking in a good mood.

It is the other dreams that visit upon me in the dark that affect me in many ways. Some are so disturbing that I wake from them in a cold sweat, my breath catching within my chest, fear sitting next to me in the dark. The worst of these are the dreams within a dream. I wake, upset and scared of something that my mind has conjured up, only to find that I am actually still within the dream world. Then upon waking, again, I lie in the dark trying to ascertain if I am finally really awake this time, or still in the clutches of my mind. Although quite frightening, these dreams sometimes give me inspiration on plot lines for future books.

Then there are the dreams that are so real, so descriptive in detail that even after waking I can remember most of them, even long into the day. These sometimes are frightening, sometimes pleasant, sometimes leaving me wondering about my sanity. There are times when the impossible happens…such as flying or defying other things in the real physical world. In any case these are my favorite dreams and the ones that give me the most ideas for future plots, characters and stories.

I wonder how many others, including the man whose quote appears at the top of this blog, have had their dreams lead them along, inspire them as well as frighten, or disappear upon waking like fog once the sun warms the air. In any case, I am very happy to dream and lucky to remember some of them. I look forward to my dreams, even the frightening ones because they lead me to places I would never have visited.

The world of Inspector Duke Becker, the detectives in his squad in the Special Investigations, Homicide unit, Dr. Elizabeth Cunningham and of course our murderer have come from a combination of dreams, experiences and people I have met. If you enjoy it then I will know that my dreams…even the scariest ones, are well worth it.

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ABOUT THE BOOK

Two police officers have been brutally killed by having their throats ripped out, but the wound appears to have been done with surgical precision. With no witnesses, no forensic evidence, and two bizarre clues to follow, the case falls to Inspector Duke Becker, head of the high profile Special Investigations Unit, Homicide.

Becker and his squad must find the killer before more cops are murdered. The case will lead Becker on a wild chase through the streets of New York City, back over 15 years into the past and to a cover-up that will rock City Hall.

Along with his brash, wildly dressed young partner, Jimmy Nova, the beautiful Michelle Goldman, Augie “Doggie” Rivera, and the Mutt and Jeff team of Bobby Green and Joe Robinson, Becker will need to enlist his boyhood friend in charge of CSU, Manny Velez.

Add a ruthless newswoman known to the NYPD as “”Wicked Witch Wilson” and a new love interest for Becker in the gorgeous and brilliant Dr. Elizabeth Cunningham, Becker is about to embark on the most difficult and dangerous case in his 20 plus years. Will Becker and his squad be able to catch the killer before more cops die or will the killer have the last laugh?

THANKS TO AUTHOR, GARY KASSEY, AND AMY FROM
SAPPHIRE STAR PUBLISHING, I HAVE TWO (2) EBOOK
EDITIONS OF THIS BOOK TO GIVE AWAY. OPEN TO ALL.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.

Guest Author, Partners In Crime Tours, Showcase

Guest Author Joel Andre

CMash July 5, 2012 Leave a Comment

The name and face should be familiar. Joel has stopped by often, which means he is always busy writing and today he is sharing about his latest work, a short story, as he tours with Partners In Crime Tours. So please help me welcome back, author and friend of the CMash blog!!

JOEL ANDRE

Joel M. Andre was born January 13, 1981. At a young age he was fascinated with the written word. It was at fourteen that Poe blew his mind, and Andre began to dabble with darker poetry.

Between the years of 1999 and 2007 Joel was featured in various poetry anthologies and publications. In 2008 he released his first collection, Pray the Rain Never Ends.

Knowing there was something deeper and darker inside of his soul, Joel decided to take a stab at commercialism. Releasing the dark tongue in cheek, A Death at the North Pole, created a dark world among the death of Kris Kringle. Ultimately providing a tale of redemption.

October of 2008 saw Joel release his second book, Kill 4 Me. A tale in which a woman is haunted by a vengeful spirit through text messages and instant messaging.

Taking some time off and doing a lot of soul searching, Joel took things in a new direction and dabbled in the Fantasy Genre with, The Pentacle of Light. The tale dealing with five major races battling for control of Earth, and the acceptance of their God.

Finally, after missing his detective Lauren Bruni, he released the book The Return in October 2009, this time moving the action from the North Pole and placing it in the small Arizona community he was raised in.

Andre’s latest book is The Black Chronicles: Cry of the Fallen about a dead man who seeks revenge on the woman that tormented him in peaceful Northern Arizona.

Currently, he resides in Chandler, AZ.
You can connect with Joel at his website here.

ABOUT THE BOOK

In this dark, philosophical tale of horror, a man has the opportunity to sit down with Death. What he discovers is that the dying process is a little more complex than he imagined and that making a deal with the Grim Reaper comes with a price.
Read my review here.

Book Details:
Genre:Adult Suspense, Mystery, Thriller,Horror
Publisher: Darkcountry Publications
Publication Date: March 7,2012
Purchase: Amazon

THANKS TO AUTHOR, JOEL ANDRE, I HAVE TWO (2)
EBOOK EDITIONS TO GIVE AWAY. OPEN TO ALL.

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

Caitlin Hamilton Marketing & Publicity, LLC, Guest Author, Showcase

Guest Author Rebecca Yount

CMash June 30, 2012 Leave a Comment

We are having company today! An old friend (not chronologically) is stopping by. Caitlin from Caitlin Hamilton Marketing and Publicity is visiting so that she can introduce us to one of her authors. So please hep me welcome them to the CMash blog.

REBECCA YOUNT

REBECCA YOUNT trained from childhood as a concert pianist, is a published poet, and worked in education reform, but she always nurtured a passion for storytelling which she has indulged only late in life. Coming from a family of writers, it wasn’t hard for her to put pen to paper, but it took an actual unsolved murder to give her the idea for her first novel. On a home exchange in England—something she and her husband regularly do—a villager told her about a local murder that remained unsolved, even by New Scotland Yard. Sitting under a tree in a fallow field one day, Rebecca began to imagine what might have happened. The result is A DEATH IN C MINOR.

In 2010, Rebecca underwent open heart surgery, which left her unable to write for two years. After this hiatus, she returned to writing, deciding to put the entire Mick Chandra series out herself as e-books. She is retired and lives in Virginia with her husband, writer David Yount.

Rebecca Yount is available for talks and presentations, and she is happy to meet with book clubs.

To schedule an appearance or to learn more about Rebecca Yount and her books, please visit www.rebeccayount.com.

GUEST POST

THE ONGOING STORY
How A One-Off Crime Novel Became A Series

I had originally planned to write a one-off crime novel based on the protagonist of my series, Detective Inspector Mick Chandra. But as I launched into terra incognita with A Death in C Minor, I realized that the story had become more expansive than originally conceived. In fact, the book had vastly outgrown its own author. By the time I had completed the first draft of the book, I realized that the process had become something like a new life form growing in a laboratory petri dish.

As I wove the plot and developed my four main characters — Mick; his American love interest, Jess; his partner, Elizabeth; and Jamie, his undercover agent — the story was no longer under my control. Like wading into a rushing river, I had to go with the current even as I risked drowning.

At the outset I had constructed the storyline around Jess, who stumbled upon a murder in the English village where she had taken refuge from her troubled life. As she became increasingly caught up in the murder of Peter Chandler, a neighbor, I planned to have her travel to Cambridge to meet with a professor of forensic science. That plot never materialized.

Instead, I introduced Mick in chapter two, sitting in his office in New Scotland Yard, attempting to master a trick from Blackwell’s Book of Magic and Illusion. This transition in the story surprised me. Even today I am not certain where I got the confidence to roll with it.

There was a real-life “Mick,” whom my husband and I had met during a home exchange on the English Channel. He was a forensic specialist on leave from Scotland Yard, attempting to recover from burnout. David and I soon became fast friends with our friendly neighbor. Still, after we returned home, Mick did not suggest himself as a character until I began writing the opening chapters of the book. Strange how our memories come back to haunt us.

So instead of a novel centered solely on Jess, I introduced the Mick character, establishing a scenario that promised a conflicted and passionate love story, as well as a complex murder investigation.

I found I had traversed Mount Olympus, where the ancient gods guided my hand over the page and I had no dominion over the text, inflated as that may sound. It was the most incredible rush!

For weeks I wrote like the proverbial bat out of hell, laboring for at least four hours in the afternoon, going to bed around 10 PM, then getting up at 3 AM to write until 5:30 AM. This brutal schedule continued until I had completed the first draft of A Death in C Minor.

After putting the book away for a short period of time, I rescued it from my desk drawer, then started all over again on rewrites, keeping the same punishing schedule. Finally, after four years, I had trimmed the book from 52 to 37 chapters. Since then there have been multiple rewrites.

My Mick Chandra series now consists of seven books. The second in the series, The Erlking, is due for publication as an e-book in early fall of 2012.

Rebecca Yount’s debut crime novel, A Death in C Minor: A Mick Chandra Mystery, will be published in e-book format on June 26 and available at Amazon.com; Apple iBookstore for iPad; Barnes and Noble for Nook; Sony Reader Store; Kobo; Copia; Baker and Taylor; eBookPie.

ABOUT THE BOOK

(June 26, 2012, Knoxville, TN) We are pleased to announce the publication of Rebecca Yount’s debut novel, A DEATH IN C MINOR: A Mick Chandra Mystery. This is the first title in a seven book series. The other six novels, which are already written, also will be published as e-books, with the second title in the series, THE ERLKING, scheduled for release in fall 2012.

Like Jess, Mick Chandra harbors a few ghosts of his own—a childhood spent on the mean streets of industrial Liverpool and a father murdered in a robbery. Welsh on his mother’s side and Kerala Indian on his father’s, Mick attributes his keen instincts as an investigator to his grandmother, who was a seer in her village in India. He has succeeded as an investigator despite the racial tensions that still divide England’s most elite police force.

As Mick begins to question the villagers, his list of suspects grows to include an adulterous vicar; an unscrupulous Cambridge don; a neglected, love-starved wife; a retired octogenarian army colonel; a loss-stricken daughter; and Adam Marr, a devastatingly handsome wealthy landowner with whom Jess had a brief affair when she first arrived in Kenwick.

Against the backdrop of Chandler’s violent murder, and though deeply wounded from failed marriages, Mick and Jess find themselves falling in love. Consequently Jess stirs the hostility of the villagers.

Under pressure from his superiors to close the case, Mick must find Peter Chandler’s murderer and bring him to justice. But who is the murderer: the local laird, the cheating vicar, or perhaps the wealthy commodities trader? Or does it take a village to commit a murder?

A DEATH IN C MINOR takes the reader on a journey fraught with danger, love, and intrigue, where the unexpected becomes the norm. The surprise ending will astonish even the most jaded readers of mystery fiction.

THANKS TO AUTHOR, REBECCA YOUNT AND CAITLIN, FROM
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CMash June 30, 2012 5 Comments

JUNE 30th to JULY 14th, 2012

A DEATH IN C MINOR
by REBECCA YOUNT

SYNOPSIS:

A DEATH IN C MINOR follows young American concert pianist Jessica Beaumont. Determined to rebuild her life following the death of her young son, a bitter divorce and a suicide attempt, Jessica retreats to a 17th century cottage in rural England. But she soon learns that life in the village of Kenwick isn’t the idyll she imagined. A year earlier, Peter Chandler, a mysterious newcomer to the village, had been hacked to death in his manor house with his own kitchen cleaver. The case remains unsolved until it’s reopened by Detective Inspector Mick Chandra of New Scotland Yard.
Like Jess, Mick Chandra harbors a few ghosts of his own—a childhood spent on the mean streets of industrial Liverpool and a father murdered in a robbery. Welsh on his mother’s side and Kerala Indian on his father’s, Mick attributes his keen instincts as an investigator to his grandmother, who was a seer in her village in India. He has succeeded as an investigator despite the racial tensions that still divide England’s most elite police force.
As Mick begins to question the villagers, his list of suspects grows to include an adulterous vicar; an unscrupulous Cambridge don; a neglected, love-starved wife; a retired octogenarian army colonel; a loss-stricken daughter; and Adam Marr, a devastatingly handsome wealthy landowner with whom Jess had a brief affair when she first arrived in Kenwick.
Against the backdrop of Chandler’s violent murder, and though deeply wounded from failed marriages, Mick and Jess find themselves falling in love. Consequently Jess stirs the hostility of the villagers.
Under pressure from his superiors to close the case, Mick must find Peter Chandler’s murderer and bring him to justice. But who is the murderer: the local laird, the cheating vicar, or perhaps the wealthy commodities trader? Or does it take a village to commit a murder?
A DEATH IN C MINOR takes the reader on a journey fraught with danger, love, and intrigue, where the unexpected becomes the norm. The surprise ending will astonish even the most jaded readers of mystery fiction.

THANKS TO AUTHOR, REBECCA YOUNT, AND CAITLIN

AT CAITLIN HAMILTON MARKETING AND PUBLICITY

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Guest Author, Showcase, The Book Trib/Media Muscle

ThrillerFest Blog Tour Guest Author Lee Child

CMash June 27, 2012 Leave a Comment

Now I know why they call it ThrillerFest !!! It’s a good thing I was sitting down at my computer when I received an email from McKenzie from Media Muscle/The Book Trib, inviting me to be part of this blog tour. What an honor!! And if that wasn’t enough, she then told me that I would be hosting the #1 New York Times Bestseller author, the Lee Child!!! So, without further ado, Mr. Lee Child.

LEE CHILD

Lee Child was born in 1954 in Coventry, England, but spent his formative years in the nearby city of Birmingham. By coincidence he won a scholarship to the same high school that JRR Tolkien had attended. He went to law school in Sheffield, England, and after part-time work in the theater he joined Granada Television in Manchester for what turned out to be an eighteen-year career as a presentation director during British TV’s “golden age.” During his tenure his company made Brideshead Revisited, The Jewel in the Crown, Prime Suspect, and Cracker. But he was fired in 1995 at the age of 40 as a result of corporate restructuring. Always a voracious reader, he decided to see an opportunity where others might have seen a crisis and bought six dollars’ worth of paper and pencils and sat down to write a book,Killing Floor, the first in the Jack Reacher series.

Killing Floor was an immediate success and launched the series which has grown in sales and impact with every new installment.

Lee has three homes—an apartment in Manhattan, a country house in the south of France, and whatever airplane cabin he happens to be in while traveling between the two. In the US he drives a supercharged Jaguar, which was built in Jaguar’s Browns Lane plant, thirty yards from the hospital in which he was born.

Lee spends his spare time reading, listening to music, and watching the Yankees, Aston Villa, or Marseilles soccer. He is married with a grown-up daughter. He is tall and slim, despite an appalling diet and a refusal to exercise.
Visit Lee Child at his website here.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Synopsis (from Amazon): Everything starts somewhere. For elite military cop Jack Reacher, that somewhere was Carter Crossing, Mississippi, way back in 1997.

A lonely railroad track. A crime scene. A cover-up. A young woman is dead, and solid evidence points to a soldier at a nearby military base. But that soldier has powerful friends in Washington.

Reacher is ordered undercover to find out everything he can and then to vanish. But when he gets to Carter Crossing, Reacher meets local sheriff Elizabeth Deveraux, who has a thirst for justice and an appetite for secrets. Uncertain they can trust each other, they reluctantly join forces. Finding unexpected layers to the case, Reacher works to uncover the truth, while others try to bury it forever. The conspiracy threatens to shatter his faith in his mission—and turn him into a man to be feared.

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER THREE

There was no one waiting outside bay fifteen. No special crew. No one at all. The corridor was entirely empty, too, both ways, as far as the eye could see. I guessed everyone else was already where they wanted to be. Twelve o’clock meetings were in full swing.

Bay fifteen’s door was open. I knocked on it once, as a courtesy, as an announcement, as a warning, and then I stepped inside. Originally most of the Pentagon’s office space was open plan, boxed off by file cabinets and furniture into bays, hence the name, but over the years walls had gone up and private spaces had been created. Frazer’s billet in 3C315 was pretty typical. It was a small square space with a window without a view, with a metal DoD desk, and a chair with arms and two without, and a credenza and a double-wide storage unit.

And it was a small square space entirely empty of people, apart from Frazer himself in the chair behind the desk. He looked up at me and smiled and said, “Hello, Reacher.”

I looked left and right. No one there. No one at all. There was no private bathroom. No large closet. No other door of any kind. The corridor behind me was empty. The giant building was quiet.

Frazer said, “Sit down, if you like.”

I sat down.

Frazer said, “You’re late.”

“I apologize,” I said. “I got hung up.”

Frazer nodded. “This place is a nightmare at twelve o’clock. Lunch breaks, shift changes, you name it. It’s a zoo. I never plan to go anywhere at twelve o’clock. I just hunker down in here.” He was about five-ten, maybe two hundred pounds, wide in the shoulders, solid through the chest, red-faced, black-haired, in his middle forties. Plenty of old Scottish blood in his veins. He had been in Vietnam as a teenager and the Gulf as an older man. He had combat pips all over him like a rash. He was an old-fashioned warrior, but unfortunately for him he could talk and smile as well as he could fight, so he had been posted to Senate Liaison, because the guys with the purse strings were the real enemy.

He said, “So what have you got for me?”

I said nothing. I had nothing to say. I hadn’t expected to get that far.

He said, “Good news, I hope.”

“No news,” I said.

“Nothing?”

I nodded. “Nothing.”

“You told me you had the name. That’s what your message said.”

“I don’t have the name.”

“Then why say so? Why ask to see me?”

I paused a beat.

“It was a shortcut,” I said.

“In what way?”

“I put it around that I had the name. I wondered who might crawl out from under a rock, to shut me up.”

“And no one has?”

“Not so far. But ten minutes ago I thought it was a different story. There were four spare men in the lobby. In DPS uniforms. They followed me. I thought they were an arrest team.”

“Followed you where?”

“Around the E ring to the D. Then I lost them on the stairs.”

Frazer smiled again.

“You’re paranoid,” he said. “You didn’t lose them. I told you, there are shift changes at twelve o’clock. They come in on the Metro like everyone else, they shoot the shit for a minute or two, and then they head for their squad room. It’s on the B ring. They weren’t following you.”

I said nothing.

He said, “There are always groups of them hanging around. There are always groups of everyone hanging around. We’re seriously overmanned. Something is going to have to be done. It’s inevitable. That’s all I hear about, all day, every day. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. We should all bear that in mind. People like you, especially.”

“Like me?” I said.

“There are lots of majors in this man’s army. Too many, probably.”

“Lots of colonels too,” I said.

“Fewer colonels than majors.”

I said nothing.

He asked, “Was I on your list of things that might crawl out from under a rock?”

You were the list, I thought.

He said, “Was I?”

“No,” I lied.

He smiled again. “Good answer. If I had a beef with you, I’d have you killed down there in Mississippi. Maybe I’d come on down and take care of it myself.”

I said nothing. He looked at me for a moment, and then a smile started on his face, and the smile turned into a laugh, which he tried very hard to suppress, but he couldn’t. It came out like a bark, like a sneeze, and he had to lean back and look up at the ceiling.

I said, “What?”

His gaze came back level. He was still smiling. He said, “I was thinking about that phrase people use. You know, they say, that guy? He couldn’t even get arrested.”

I said nothing.

He said, “You look terrible. There are barbershops here, you know. You should go use one.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I’m supposed to look like this.”
#

Eight days earlier my hair had been eight days shorter, but apparently still long enough to attract attention. Leon Garber, who at that point was once again my commanding officer, summoned me to his office, and because his message read in part without repeat without attending to any matters of personal grooming I figured he wanted to strike while the iron was hot and dress me down right then, while the evidence was still incontrovertibly in existence, right there on my head. And that was exactly how the meeting started out. He asked me, “Which army regulation covers a soldier’s personal appearance?”

Which I thought was a pretty rich question, coming from him. Garber was without a doubt the scruffiest officer I had ever seen. He could take a brand new Class A coat from the quartermaster’s stores and an hour later it would look like he had fought two wars in it, then slept in it, then survived three bar fights in it.

I said, “I can’t remember which regulation covers a soldier’s personal appearance.”

He said, “Neither can I. But I seem to recall that whichever, the hair and the fingernail standards and the grooming policies are in chapter one, section eight. I can picture it all quite clearly, right there on the page. Can you remember what it says?”

I said, “No.”

“It tells us that hair grooming standards are necessary to maintain uniformity within a military population.”

“Understood.”

“It mandates those standards. Do you know what they are?”

“I’ve been very busy,” I said. “I just got back from Korea.”

“I heard Japan.”

“That was just a stopover on the way.”

“How long?”

“Twelve hours.”

“Do they have barbers in Japan?”

“I’m sure they do.”

“Do Japanese barbers take more than twelve hours to cut a man’s hair?”

“I’m sure they don’t.”

“Chapter one, section eight, paragraph two, says the hair on the top of the head must be neatly groomed, and that the length and the bulk of the hair may not be excessive or present a ragged, unkempt, or extreme appearance. It says that instead, the hair must present a tapered appearance.”

I said, “I’m not sure what that means.”

“It says a tapered appearance is one where the outline of the soldier’s hair conforms to the shape of his head, curving inward to a natural termination point at the base of his neck.”

I said, “I’ll get it taken care of.”

“These are mandates, you understand. Not suggestions.”

“OK,” I said.

“Section two says that when the hair is combed, it will not fall over the ears or the eyebrows, and it will not touch the collar.”

“OK,” I said again.

“Would you not describe your current hairstyle as ragged, unkempt, or extreme?”

“Compared to what?”

“And how are you doing in relation to the thing with the comb and the ears and the eyebrows and the collar?”

“I’ll get it taken care of,” I said again.

Then Garber smiled, and the tone of the meeting changed completely.

He asked, “How fast does your hair grow, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “A normal kind of speed, I suppose. Same as anyone else, probably. Why?”