RELEASE DAY: Lesley Downie "Tunnels"

 

Blurb:

Katherine Goldstein, the sleuth of all sleuths living in Citrus Grove, has uncovered amazing finds from the past. Join Kat and her friends as she delves into another mystery surrounding her city. Will she uncover the truth? Will Kat finally get the chance to talk to her crush? As you turn the pages of Tunnels, be ready for adventure, intrigue, and a fun, all-around story written for children. A very ‘tween type book, but fun to read as an adult as well. This would make a great family read-aloud. -Pamela Bunch, Youth Services Librarian, A.K. Smiley Public Library

 

 

Author:

Lesley Downie divides her time between writing, work, and family in Redlands, California, the very place where her current story began so long ago when she was a kid running over and under the historical streets of her hometown. Tunnels is Lesley’s second novel.

 

 

 

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Excerpt:

 

Chapter One

 

DOWN THE HOLE

 

Bet I can beat you for most embarrassing moment. I'm living it right now and no, it doesn't involve a toilet paper tail stuck to the bottom of my shoe while walking down the hallway at school. Instead, four firemen (why can't they be ugly?) just yanked me out of a sewer hole and were staring at me like I was insane. But it wasn't the three super old twenty-somethings who made me want to die. It was the one on the end who made me squirm and doubt whether I should give them my real name.

Because I absolutely knew who he was. My crush. David Perkins, a whole grade older than me and the cutest guy in the seventh grade class, let alone all of Crossley Prep. Only he could take my mind off of my Life's Mission. But more on that later—just as soon as Mr. Perfect, the guy most unlikely to be my first boyfriend, isn't right in front of me. I stared up at him. His junior fireman-in-training badge glimmered in the sun.

Sigh. He was never going to think of me that way. Instead his eyes said, This girl's psycho for sure. And clearing up the crazy question was most def out. That would mean I'd have to tell him the real reason I'd ended up six feet below street level. Rule number one about a top-secret investigation: keep your mouth shut and look nuts if you have to. Definitely had an A+ in that department.

"Hey," David breaks the stare-down. "I know you from somewhere?"

But before I could answer, one of them plops this box in front of me and pulls out some pretty official doctor-y stuff from it. The others began talking to each other because apparently I've worn out their interest. Except David. He's still staring like I'm some hot new…circus act.

"Okay, Katherine, is it?" the guy asks, practically choking me with this ugly collar thingy. "I'm Matt. Hold still while I get your vitals. We need to monitor you to make sure you aren't in shock."

The padded collar was tight and I couldn't move, which I guess was the point. I pushed my hair out of my eyes. My curls were super annoying, bouncing around like everything was great.

"But I'm fine!" I finally said. "I don't need you to monitor anything." And I was. I'd taken CPR two years in a row so I could be a junior lifeguard. I was breathing, my heart was beating, so back up, fella. But no one was listening to me. Instead they were all jokey-jokey with each other. I mean, excuse me for not being closer to death.

"Fine, huh?" Matt said. "Let me be the judge of that, Red." He tousled my curls like I was a cocker spaniel. Or maybe I should say like a puli, because I'm the human equivalent with my big, fat, red cigar curls. You know those dogs that run around looking like an old-fashioned mop? Cute hair on a puli, not so cute on an almost-twelve-year-old girl like myself. David laughed and his eyes got all squinty, but in a cute way. Too bad he was laughing at me, not with me.

Then I overheard some official fire-chief-guy (thought they only wore those big red hats in the movies) say, "Yes, Mrs. Goldstein, we're at the scene right now. Your daughter's okay and you can meet us over at Citrus Grove Community."

Crud. The rest of my day was about to become epically messed up. Solitary confinement once the Unit (Unit = Mom = the General) gets ahold of me. I know there'll be mounds of dishes to wash and toilets to scrub. She'll never understand I had a good reason for doing what I did. I mean, what would you rather do? Study for a stupid math test or carry out your Life's Mission, aka hunting for secret tunnels? Talk about total unleashing of parental ridiculousity—made up words are sometimes the best words—on me. Did I mention yet that being in sixth grade has serious drawbacks?

But wait. What if I seemed more hurt? Would I still be grounded for life? I started second-guessing my injuries. Was that a muscle spasm in my back?

RELEASE DAY: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy "Gray's Good Samaritan"

Blurb:

On an ordinary Saturday morning, Robin Cavanaugh’s life takes a wild turn.  A wounded man leaps into her car at a traffic light.  He refuses to go to the hospital and after he reveals his real name, she realizes she knows him from church.  When he swears he’s one of the good guys, Robin abandons common sense to help him.  As his condition worsens, she soon learns he’s not really Spike Mc Gee, a criminal but an undercover agent whose life is in danger.  His brother, Jack, a doctor, pulls Gray through and soon, Robin is part of the action too.  Their love grows under the unlikely conditions and when Gray heads home to visit his mother, Robin comes too.  While there, Gray proposes and she accepts but a family tragedy brings them back to Tulsa.  Everything hangs in the balance as Gray goes undercover as Spike on last time…if he survives, they can find their happily ever after.

 

Author:

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy is a native of historic St. Joseph, Missouri and now makes her home in the beautiful Ozark Mountains.  As a wife and mother to three children, she spends her days penning her stories, substitute teaching, gardening, cooking, and all the other daily duties.  She has a BA degree in English and History from Missouri Southern State University and an AA degree from Crowder College.  She has worked in broadcasting, education, and retail. Lee Ann is a member of Romance Writers of America, Missouri Writers Guild, and the Ozark Writers League.  Her multiple works include full length nov-els, novellas, and short stories.  Lee Ann has also contributed to more than two dozen an-thologies including the popular Chicken Soup For The Soul series.  She writes a weekly col-umn for the local newspaper and writes several romance genres and subgenres.

 

 

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Excerpt:

Chapter One

On a morning as ordinary as faded blue jeans, no different from dozens of other Saturdays, everything changed. As she slowed for a traffic signal behind a long string of vehicles, Robin spotted the man. Whoever he was, he ran at furious speed, racing across the open spaces between the electric substations as if his life might be in peril. Robin couldn’t imagine anything else powerful enough to inspire anyone to run so fast, so hard. Curious, she kept an eye on him to see where he went as she came to a stop at the highway interchange. Already ten minutes late for her hair appointment, midway through her weekly errands, she craned her head backward and over the dirty laundry stacked in the back seat. Just as the light went green, the runner changed course. His diagonal path would take him in front of her car so she hesitated, a car length behind the other vehicles, afraid she might hit him. At the last moment, he veered, switched course, and snatched open the passenger door. He climbed inside before she could scream or protest and spat out two words: “Hit it!”

Robin froze, uncertain what to do until the truck behind her blared its horn. After a brief hesitation, she drove forward, heart beating with a rock-and-roll rhythm. Every bone in her law-abiding body screamed to stop. Her passenger’s face shimmered with perspiration and his eyes glittered with pain. Although he had been running hard, he gasped for breath as if he had been hurt. When she sneaked a closer glance, she noticed blood dripping in staccato rhythm from beneath his leather jacket. “Hey, you’re hurt,” she said, shocked. In her comfortable world, people didn’t run or bleed from anything but a minor mishap. “What happened?”

“I got shot,” he said. Each word required a harsh-drawn breath. “Just drive, okay?”

“Shot?” she echoed. Maybe she had heard him wrong. “You were shot?”

He shot her a look from half-closed eyes and she noticed how pale he had become. “Yeah.”

Robin clamped her fingers tighter around the steering wheel as she stiffened. Whatever trouble he’d found, it wasn’t hers but she couldn’t abandon him on the side of the road either. She made a sudden, swift decision.

“I can take you to the hospital,” she said. “I’m sorry, but that’s it. Just hang on and we’ll get there as soon as I figure out if we’re closer to Hillcrest, OSU, or St. Francis.”

He’d closed his eyes, shuttered tight against the pain, but at her suggestion, he opened them and glared at her. “No hospital,” he choked. “Can’t. They report gunshot wounds.”

Disbelief cut through her anxiety so that she spoke without thinking. “Are you telling me you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?” He needed immediate medical attention. Those drops of blood she had noticed had become a stream flowing down the seat and puddling onto the floorboard. “You need to get help — you’re bleeding all over the place.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “I know, but I can’t go to the hospital. The law requires them to report any gunshot wounds. If they do, I’m a dead man. Can you drive any faster? I don’t think they saw what car I got into but they might have. If so, we’re both in trouble.”

He appeared about to collapse but he’d managed to speak up. And what he said scared her. “Who might’ve seen you?” Robin asked, afraid to hear the answer. The way he had been running, she figured it must have been the police, drug dealers, a gang, or maybe organized crime.

Her passenger slumped down in the seat. “I think maybe the cops did.”

Robin almost slammed on the brakes and her attention strayed from the road. She faced him and got a good look for the first time. He wore black leather pants, a leather jacket, and a black T-shirt. On his hands, he wore leather half-gloves and studded bracelets encircled both wrists. Although his hair was close-cropped in front, he had let it grow out in back. After his crazy run, his hair had wilted but she would bet he had had it spiked with gel before. Robin couldn’t determine if his style screamed biker, punk, Goth, or gang, but whatever his fashion statement might be, it stretched far outside her comfort zone. He had to be a criminal and she struggled to stay calm. Who knew what he might do if she provoked him?

RELEASE DAY: Alysia S. Knight "Kare for me"

 

Blurb:

All Kaira Baker wants is a new life for her and her son.  What she gets is a vandalizing old lady, death threats, and an infuriating sheriff who is the father of her son’s new best friend.

Widower Sheriff Matthew Collins keeps accidently offending the new intriguing beauty in town, but with someone threatening her, he has to figure out how to get her to trust him enough to keep her alive.

  

Author:

I grew up in a small town in Wyoming loving the outdoors, sports, art, and reading Hardy Boys books. After reading them all at least a half dozen times, I started writing my own stories. 

Thirty years ago I married a wonderful, honorable man. I’m mother of five children and grandmother of five boys with another on the way. I love traveling.  Through my husband’s work and vacations, I have visited much of the United States, all over Eastern Europe, Canada, Mexico, China, Thailand, Cambodia and Australia, giving me many intriguing locations and experiences for my stories. 

I am a storyteller.  I write the classic hero story because I think there’s a need for more heroes, love, and adventure in our lives.  I’m not out to change the world with my writing; I’m just hoping to make your day a little better. 

 

 

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Excerpt:

"What?" Kaira hit the turn signal, pulling into the parking lot in front of Body Kare, the massage therapy clinic she hoped to open in just two days. Kaira climbed out of her car fighting back tears at the sight of black grease smeared across the delicate white letters that she had carefully stenciled on the window.

She glanced at her watch and pushed her key into the lock. She hoped there was enough time to clean off the grime before she had to be at work at Josie's Boutique. Paper towels and cleaner wiped away the mess but did nothing to clean away the pain that the senseless vandalism did to her heart. Why did someone have to pick on her place? This was her and Jason's new start, their new life.

 

Chapter One

"Now, that's a nice display."

Matt turned his head in the direction his deputy indicated wondering why he bothered. Samson always had an eye out for the ladies, even though Hayes, Colorado was small enough, he recognized most everyone by sight, if not by name. The woman who moved around the display in the window of Josie's Boutique was totally unfamiliar to him. And Sam was right. She was a real nice display of womanhood. As the woman turned, the modest black skirt, which hung halfway down her calf, opened with a slit to her knee. Matt felt a wave of interest. Yes, Sam was definitely right, that was one beautiful display of woman.

"How about we stop and pay Josie a visit?" Sam suggested.

Matt was saved from making a decision by the radio. "Yeah, Ruth?"

"Matt, I have Mrs. Norman here all in a stew, demanding to see you."

"On my way, be there in about two minutes."

"Can't you make it quicker? That woman…" His dispatcher's words hung in the air of the sheriff's SUV.

Matt laughed along with Sam, each knowing well what Ruth meant. His mind crafted a picture of Mrs. Norman's short, rotund form and one of her common stern, disapproving looks. A minute later Matt pulled up in front of the Sheriff’s Station. After getting out, he took the three stairs in a single bound.

Shrill words rippled down the hall. "I want to know what he's going to do about this. We can't have the likes of that going on in our town. To think, they gave her a license."

Matt grimaced a second before pasting a smile on his face and stepping into the sheriff's office. "Mrs. Norman, how are you today? No more trouble with the Bensons' dog I hope?"

Claira Norman had been a huffing busybody since his youth. "How, indeed! Matthew Collins, I want to know what you're going to do about that illicit den of iniquity." The woman glared up at him with her hands on her hips in just the same look he had imagined a minute earlier, right down to her floral print dress.

Shifting back to the matter at hand, he frowned looking at Ruth, who was both his dispatcher and secretary. She just shrugged her shoulders, rolled her eyes and left the room.

"Den of iniquity? I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

"That Massage Therapy Clinic." Derision rang heavy in the woman's tone as she drew out the words. "No matter what fancy name you call it. It is still a massage parlor, and we know what goes on in one of those places. You're supposed to be a good, upstanding member of the community, besides being sheriff. And you're also father of a young son. You should do something about it."

"Mrs. Norman, I'm afraid I still don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a man," she said, looking him up and down none too flatteringly. "You know what I'm talking about." When he made no comment, she charged on. "On the corner of First and Monroe, they're opening a massage parlor."

"Now Mrs. Norman, on the corner of First and Monroe is the Fitness Plaza. There is the health club, health food store, and the juice and bagel shop."

"You should know your town better, Matthew Collins, there is a massage parlor opening."

 

RELEASE DAY: Pema Donyo "The Innocent Assassins"

Blurb:

There are three rules to staying an assassin at the corporation of Covert Operatives: (1) your parents must be deceased, (2) your contracts must remain confidential, and (3) you must be under the age of eighteen.

After a murder mission goes awry a month before her eighteenth birthday, Covert Operatives assassin Jane Lu finds herself caught by the federal government and forced to spy for the CIA while remaining in Covert Operatives. Once her spying mission is over, she will be allowed to live a civilian life without facing criminal consequences—a life she’s only dreamed of having.

As Jane leaks information to the CIA, she uncovers secrets with enough power to both destroy Covert Operatives and her own boyfriend, Adrian King, who’s next in line to be CEO of the company. When her identity as a double agent for the CIA is discovered within Covert Operatives, she must decide where her allegiance, and her heart, truly lies.
   

About the Author:

Coffee-fueled college student by day, creative writer by night. Pema Donyo currently lives in Southern California, where any temperature less than 70 degrees is freezing and flip-flops never go out of season. While she may never be a member of Covert Operatives, for the moment she is pretty content being a student at Claremont McKenna College. Find her chatting about coffee, college, and creative writing at pemadonyo.wordpress.com

Now available on
   

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Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

       

There are three rules to staying an assassin at Covert Operatives: one, your parents must be deceased, two, your murder contracts must remain confidential, and three, you must be under the age of eighteen.

I slammed the door shut while my eyes scanned the room for an object to use.

"I know you're in there. I know who sent you after me!"

"Oh yeah?" My gaze flickered from the empty baby bassinet to the picture books on the floor. I resisted the urge to groan. Of all the rooms in this mansion, I picked the nursery?

"You can't kill me! The cops are coming." The voice on the other side of the door wavered even as I felt him trying to beat down the door on the other side. "You're only a kid!"

ZING.

A bullet whizzed past my neck, breaking a small hole in the door. I cringed. A chunk of hair fell from the bullet’s impact, the right side of my ponytail splayed on the floor. I'd just had a haircut!

"You are so paying for that." Enough was enough. I reloaded my gun and pushed back the door enough to buy a few more seconds of time. "No one calls me a kid."

"Yeah, well I—"

BANG.

I gazed down at the man dead in front of me. One hand rested on the doorknob, the other on the trigger of my gun. I frowned at the wound. It wasn't right on the heart. Darn, I wanted a clean shot.

The sound of scurrying boots up the stairs caught my attention. No time to worry about the aim now. My finger rested on the trigger, ready to shoot in self-defense. I lifted up the gun and pointed it in front of me.

A woman reached the top of the stairs and shrieked when she saw the man on the floor. She screamed even louder when she saw my gun, as if her screams would ward me away.

I sighed. "Sorry about this."

She started backing into a corner as I approached her. I dealt a powerful blow to one of the pressure points on her neck with just the right amount of pressure not to kill her. Immediately, her body curled up and her lips pressed shut as she crumpled to the floor.

I pointed my gun to the direction I wanted to go. I passed by the woman, who was now laying on the floor, unconscious and blissful. I winced. I hated when the family showed up. It made the entire mission messier. Still, a job was a job.

The chip in my ear started to buzz. I pressed on it with my free hand, still pointing the gun with my other hand on the way out. No one else was inside, but a CO agent could never be too careful.

"Coast is clear." A pause. "You're getting slow, Janey."

I pressed the earpiece to respond. "Yeah? Says the one who almost got us killed in Cairo last week."

I kicked open the door. My eyes scanned from side to side, checking to make sure I was safe. My finger rested on the trigger.

Within moments, I found myself pressed to the floor.

Adrian smiled above me while his hands pinned mine behind my back. So not safe with a gun in my hand.

"See what I mean? Getting slow." His hands drifted to my hips, and his mouth curved upward into an easy smirk above my lips.

I pulled away, leaving both of us gasping for breath. "Not fair," I grumbled. "You told me it was clear."

He took his hands off my wrists and stepped back. I stood up from the porch of the house.

"We can't just make out during every mission."

Adrian raised an eyebrow at me. "You didn't object during the last one."