RELEASE DAY: Heather Gray "Jackal"

 

Blurb

Hiding in the shadows just got harder.

When tragedy strikes, Juliana and her family must flee their home. Can they persuade a virtual stranger to help them? Juliana isn't so sure, especially after their chaperone threatens to cane him. Even as Juliana struggles to trust him, she finds herself drawn to this mysterious man. Surely all she wants from him is refuge…
Rupert is a man whose life depends on his ability to remain unnoticed. What, then, is he supposed to do with this family he's inherited?  His life is overrun with an ancient chaperone who would terrify a lesser man, two spirited girls, and the secretive Juliana – someone he comes to think of as his own precious jewel.
With this new responsibility thrust upon him, Rupert will have to make sacrifices – but will God ask him to sacrifice everything?

 

About the Author:
Heather Gray is the author of the Ladies of Larkspur inspirational western romance series, including Mail Order Man, Just Dessert, and Redemption.  Other titles include Ten Million Reasons, His Saving Grace, and Nowhere for Christmas – everything from Regency England to modern-day America.  Aside from a long-standing love affair with coffee, Heather’s greatest joys are her relationships with her Savior and her family.  Years ago, Heather decided she'd rather laugh than yell.  This theme is evident in her writing where, through the highs and lows of life, her characters find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with her.

 

Now available at

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Excerpt:

Prologue

1810

            A duke had been cut down in the prime of his life. According to the War Department, The Hunter was to blame.

Jackal had been put onto The Hunter's scent and told to ferret him out at all cost. It was his job, his duty to the crown, and he treated it with the seriousness it demanded. Evil could not be allowed to go unpunished, and people who took pleasure in destroying the lives of others would not walk away with impunity, not on his watch.

Jackal met with his contacts in the Austrian government and found no gratification in revealing they had a traitor in their midst. It had been a necessary move, and now the problem would be dealt with. The Austrians would put The Hunter down, and England's hands would remain clean of the mess, exactly as the minister wanted.

Grim foreboding furrowed his brow as he left the meeting with the Austrians. His lack of evidence mocked him. He'd done as ordered, and they'd believed him, but had it been his choice, he'd have gathered more proof first.

Jackal climbed into his carriage and slapped his hand against the roof, signaling the driver with his readiness to depart. A lengthy ride awaited him. He would leave the carriage and his current identity behind in Munich once he arrived there. New papers and fresh horses were waiting for him. The same would happen again when he crossed over into Stuttgart, and then again in Brussels. His task was clear: remain alive long enough to claim each of the new identities and return safely to his homeland.

Sitting back on the roughly cushioned seat, he accepted what he'd begun to suspect. This would be his last assignment for the crown. He was getting too old for the job. The time to retire was upon him. The younger bucks were willing – if not entirely ready – to take their place among the ranks of the unseen, unknown, and unnamed heroes of war. Jackal shook his head. Not too long ago, he'd been one of those young bucks. Ready for retirement at age thirty-two? The thought would be laughable in any other career. In his line of work, though, only those who retired young lived to be old and grey.

Lost in melancholy, Jackal barely noted the change from the raucous noise of a bustling merchant district to the quiet pastoral sounds that would accompany him on most of this journey. Europe was a large land with rich cities interspersed with vast emptiness dotted with small hamlets. Traveling by carriage would take weeks, but as long as he could report back that he'd done as ordered, it would be worth the time.

He settled into his seat. They were still days from their first sanctioned stop. As always, the best defense was to keep moving.

 

****

 A change in the carriage's soothing methodical movement woke Jackal from his doze and alerted him that something was amiss. Awareness coursed through his veins, pushing away the remnant of sleep. A quick glance at the curtained window told him it was late morning. They'd ridden through the night to put as much distance as possible between them and Vienna – the current hub of Austrian government.

The carriage was moving with a wildness he'd felt only one other time in his life. Dread snaked through his middle as he accepted the truth. There was no longer a driver in control of his conveyance. Jackal crouched low on the floor for balance as he prepared to throw open the door and jump. Perhaps he should have sought retirement one assignment sooner.

Before his hand could touch the door, a jarring force threw Jackal against the seat to his left, shooting pain up his arm. They'd been boarded, then, and his driver – an agent he'd worked with for years – had likely not been alive to sound the alarm. Emotion would come later. For now, Jackal needed to focus on one thing: Survival.

 

My Town in Three Photos - Ballarat (Australia)

by Iris Blobel

 

 

 

Ballarat is a city located on the Yarrowee River and lower western plains of the Great Dividing Range in the state of Victoria, Australia, approximately 105 kilometres (65 mi) west-north-west of the state capital, Melbourne. It is the third most populous urban area in the state, with a population of 85,935^. It is the state's most populated inland settlement, and fifth most populated inland settlement in Australia.

 

Lake Wendouree is an artificially-created and maintained shallow urban lake.The name Wendouree comes from a local aboriginal word wendaaree which means 'go away': a story is told that when settler William Cross Yuille asked a local indigenous woman what the name of the swamp was, that was her reply.

 

 

 

 

 

The Eureka Rebellion began in Ballarat and the only armed rebellion in Australian history, the Battle of Eureka Stockade, took place on 3 December 1854. In response to the event the first male suffrage in Australia was instituted and as such Eureka is interpreted by some as the origin of democracy in Australia. The gold rush and boom gave birth in many other significant cultural legacies. The rebellion's symbol, the Eureka Flag has become a national symbol and is held at the Museum of Australian Democracy at Eureka in Ballarat.

 

 

 

 

Sovereign Hill is an open air museum in Golden Point, a suburb of Ballarat, Victoria, Australia. Sovereign Hill depicts Ballarat's first ten years after the discovery of gold there in 1851. It was officially opened on 29 November 1970 and has become a nationally acclaimed tourist attraction. It is one of Victoria's most popular attractions and Ballarat's most famous.





(source: Wiki Commons)



AP Author Spotlight: Kathy Bosman

 

Kathy Bosman

 

Website: http://www.kathybosman.com

Blog: http://www.kathybosman.com

Twitter ID: https://twitter.com/KathleenLBosman

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5257900.Kathy_Bosman

Google +: https://plus.google.com/+KathleenBosman

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KathleenBosman

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/gracewalk17

 

Describe yourself in three words:

Sensitive, creative and tenacious.

 

Tell us a little about your latest release:

Three Tiers for Win is a story of adventure, romance, and family passion that unfolds with the backdrop of the 2012 London Olympics. Elaine said she would never date an athlete as they’re too driven. That’s until she meets kind, yet intensely focused and ambitious South African Olympic swimmer, Winston Harper. He stands for everything she’d chosen not to go for. Win also has a bad family history which keeps him from opening his heart to her. When intense attraction and affection breaks through some of their barriers, family secrets and conflicts pull them apart again. Only Elaine’s support and Win’s brokenness can draw them back together, but will that be strong enough to wipe away the past?

The book was inspired by the London Olympics when one of South Africa's swimmers, Chad le Clos, won a gold medal and the news about a famous cyclist taking steroids.

 

What is your earliest memory?

I can't remember too far back. One memory that I will always cherish is from my mother who died when I was six. She loved fairies and would often talk to me about them. One day, she told me to climb up my favourite tree in the garden and look for a surprise there. I climbed up and found a little doll with a beautiful fairy outfit which she had sewn herself. I will never forget how special that moment was.

 

What would you consider the greatest moment in your life?

There are too many to count. Maybe some moments in prayer or with my husband or kids.

 

What’s the hardest thing in in life you’ve done?

Giving birth to three children, two of them in Zambia, a third-world country with little medical and other facilities. Also travelling with a newborn across three African countries, remote places, too.

 

What have you learned in life so far?

Wow, lots and lots. I think one of the biggest things I've learned is that God's love is unconditional and we don't have to do things to be loved and kept safe. His salvation is unconditional - not just when we turn to him but for the rest of our lives.

I've learned not to be a people pleaser although I think I still let it get to me at times, but I have learned the valuable lesson of saying no and putting my family first.

 

Everyone’s favourite question: if you could invite five people for dinner, who would it be?

Jesus Christ

My late mother

My late grandparents

The apostle Paul

A long-lost friend from school

 

 

Chance for our readers - what else would you like to know about Kathy Bosman?

RELEASE DAY: Lynn Donovan "Rocking Horse Shadows"

  

Blurb:
It's just an old rocking horse.

At least, that's what Marah keeps telling herself. When renovating the old Smithy’s property with her husband, the antique rocking horse first evoked happiness, and Marah couldn't help but daydream about the possibility of a baby coming into their lives. Starting a family would be the perfect symbol of their recovering marriage.

But then weird things start to happen. Even their dog can sense it. As weird quickly turns into terrifying, everything keeps coming back to the rocking horse—and the evil spirits who haunt it.

  
About the Author:

Lynn Donovan spends her days chasing after her muses, trying to get them to settle down and behave long enough to dictate their words and actions. Thank goodness her muses love Christ or she’d be in big trouble. The results have produced The Clockwork Dragon, a collection of nine short stories in which she wrote half (4.5 stories), The Wishing Well Curse, and Thorns of Betrayal, Rocking Horse Shadows, and Christmas Grace, Signing Seeds. A speculative fiction called The Abraham Project is hovering out there somewhere. Lynn enjoys reading and writing Christian fiction, paranormal, and speculative fiction. But you never know what her muses will come up with for a story, so you could see a novel under any given genre. All we can tell you is keep your eyes open, cause these muses are not sitting still for long! Oops, there they go again…
  

Now available on

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Excerpt:

Chapter One

Late 1860s

 ALEKSANDR SANIN collapsed next to the icy stream. His plea escaped with his breath as his knees slammed into the snow-laden ground. Just for this brief moment, he allowed himself to give into the anguish. “Please, God, don’t take Anna from me.”

The stream, the land, the trees, the bushes, even the stones in the creek; this was his sanctuary. He had thanked God for it all, and promised to take care of it, knowing it would take care of him and his wife. But this year, winter came too soon. An early frost ruined the meadow of corn. The potatoes were small, but they rescued all they could harvest from the ice-wounded plants. Now, the storehouse was empty. And this blizzard was destroying any hope for the third planting. Aleksandr had been determined to survive here in Cotopaxi, Colorado. Anything had to be better than mother Russia. For his Jewish relatives, it had become impossible to survive back home.

Cotopaxi seemed like his one chance to make it all better. For his Anna. She was his life. He had married her just before they boarded the ship to come to America. The village Shadkhan, the matchmaker, had made the preparations for the arranged marriage, but he had loved Anna since he was a boy. Colorado beckoned their small clan of sixty-three with colonization benefits and a Homestead Act promising one hundred and sixty acres of land and an already erected house. All they had to do was cross this great land and take up residence.

When they finally arrived in Colorado, there were not as many homes built as promised, but it didn’t stop Aleksandr from setting down roots. The land proportioned to him included a side of a mountain, woods, and a meadow.

It was beautiful.

He could feel God’s presence when he walked his land.

And Anna loved him. He longed for nothing more.

He built their cabin with his own two hands and the timber God provided. None too soon, too, because Anna had told him she was with child. He and Anna loved God with all their hearts, all their minds, and all their souls; just like the Holy Bible said. Anna read to him from the blessed book every evening. He loved her more than the air, the stream, and the mountain.

But today fearful torment weighed down his heart like the merciless wind and wet snow of the overwhelming blizzard.

They were starving.

He had to kill something to eat.

The creek’s life-blood gurgled and raced under the sheets of ice, solidifying across the surface of the rocks. Unrelenting layers of snow quickly piled up around him. With both fists pressed against his quivering lips, he begged God to hear his plea. Brackish tears and salty sweat blended on his face. The cold steel of his Henry rifle burned against his skin. He had three cartridges. He needed one kill.

“Lord, please,” he prayed. “Help me. You are the provider. You provided for Elijah when there was nothing. Please, God, show me a rabbit, a deer, an elk, anything, so I can feed my family. Anna’s got to eat, Lord, or she’ll loose the baby.” He sucked down air and terror.

“I can’t lose her. Dear God, please, please don’t take her from me.” The storm in his heart swept his soul deeper into despair than this harsh blizzard could ever do. He squeezed his eyes closed. Saliva slipped from his grimacing mouth and formed crystals in his unkempt beard. He reached with a bare, dirty hand to a dormant aspen and pulled himself up to stand. He had to keep moving or he’d be swallowed up by the storm and freeze to death.

RELEASE DAY: Andy Lewter "Gifted - A Valens Series"

  

Blurb:
The last thing Abigail Everett thought would happen over spring break was having her world shift into an entirely new perspective.

Unfortunately for her, that’s exactly what happened.

Between struggling to master her newly-formed abilities, coming face-to-face with dark, deceiving mind tricks by those that seek her leadership, and learning of a mythical world that she never deemed possible, Abigail risks everything with the future of mankind and the safety of its’ people in her hands.

About the Author:

Andy is a stay-home mom with two beautiful children. Between homework, playing, cooking and cleaning, she writes on the side. Most of her inspiration comes from life experiences that have brought her both pain and happiness - both of which have helped her grow. She also gets inspiration from the wonderful people that have touched her life, accompanied with crazy dreams she has nightly.

She is so excited to have finally touched the edges of her dream as an author. She grew a fond passion for writing when she was young, and this story has given her determination that she can indeed fulfill her childhood dream.

 

Now available on

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 Excerpt:

Chapter 1

I walked through a familiar door — the same door I had walked through every day for as long as I could remember. It was a door I recalled with a painful longing, yet I had no desire to relive the monstrous memories that were once behind it. I stepped past a stairway and turned towards the living room, ignoring the laundry basket strewn on its side and the scattered articles of clothing that lay across the floor — all looking as if they had been tripped over. I squinted through the beaming sunlight coming from the window, swiftly walked past the neglected, dust-covered piano, and finally entered the doorway to the kitchen.

I turned, and as expected, there he stood — just as he always did.

Beads of sweat dripped off his chin and onto his shirt. The familiar smell of aged whiskey mixed with sweat made my nose scrunch. It would always take him a minute to realize I was standing there.

He slowly turned his face up, his lazy blood-red eyes following — and finally he looked at me.

"Hi, dad," I choked out and forced a smile, because that's all I ever seemed to manage.

"Abby, you came home," he said, bewildered and confused.

 

I opened my eyes and pressed my face into my pillow as hard as I could. I'm not sure where this dream came from or how it started, but it's been recurring every night for the past year and a half.

My father passed away three summers ago, and I'd be lying if I said it was a surprise. I don't think my sister or I ever knew him sober, but he had enormous potential had it not been for the alcohol. He adored his wife and children, had a wonderful sense of humor and always found ways to pull a prank and catch someone off guard. We all knew what kind of person he could have been.

But his addiction took over and robbed us all.

My mother has always been a hard worker and tries to set the best example she can for my twin sister Olivia and me. After my father's passing, we moved away from Palmdale, California to the small town of Newton, Kansas. I got over the devastation of the population size about six months after living here and now find it predictable and boring. My sister on the other hand, has yet to be satisfied.

Olivia has always been the pretty, popular girl at our high school with too many friends to count. She's constantly talking about the small selection of boys at our school, then raves on and on about having to drive twenty miles south to Wichita just to buy a decent pair of jeans. Cheerleading and her social life always seem to be more important than her academic requirements. Frequently, she needs me to tutor her.

My twin sister and I are exact opposites of each other.

 From what my mom says, I supposedly inherited my father's intelligence. I have a straight-'A' average and it doesn't seem too difficult for me to keep up. Well, except for trigonometry.

I have hazel eyes, thick, long, dark brown hair, and quite often seem to be the one with a smart remark in a crowd. While I have plenty of acquaintances at school, I'm pretty sure these people only like me because I'm Olivia's sister. But I don't care. The only person I truly connect with at school is my best friend, Miles Kavin.

This was our third year living in Newton and our senior year was going by very quickly.

I drew in a deep breath and peeked over at the clock, hoping it was later than I thought it was.

"Ugh, five o'clock in the morning," I said groggily as I rubbed my eyes.

I rose out of my warm bed and threw on a light robe over my pajamas. Whatever happened to wanting to sleep in like a normal teenager? Instead, I am the one that always wakes up before dawn and gets ready for school like it's something I look forward to.

I glanced over to my window, predicting it had snowed or rained overnight. Even though it was the beginning of March, we were in Kansas and anything could happen when it came to the weather.

 

 

RELEASE DAY: Mary Cope "Beautiful One"

  

Blurb

Elizabeth Ryan is a beautiful, shy, naïve high school senior. Having never dated, she meets the boy of her dreams, Aidan Mitchell. Despite his history of womanizing Liz is drawn to him. Soon Liz becomes the envy of all the girls on campus, when they become a couple and her dream boyfriend sweeps her off her feet and into the dating world that is all too new and strange for her. When other guys start to take notice of Liz, Aidan's fits of jealousy quickly turn into physical abuse.

Elizabeth meets the ruggedly handsome, Spencer Hayes and they quickly bond over their passion for music. Liz begins to struggle with the feelings that spark between them.

In the end Elizabeth finds herself torn between helping Aidan overcome his jealousy and anger and giving into what her heart truly wants.

 

About the Author:
Mary Cope is a freelance writer of romance. Her book, Beautiful One, is the first in a planned trilogy. She enjoys spending time with her family, baking gourmet cookies, listening to music and taking long walks with her yellow Labrador, Maggie.

You may stay connected with Mary via her website @ MaryCopeAuthor.com

Now available on

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Excerpt:

Chapter One
 

The faint sounds of a guitar drifted through the walls of my bathroom as I savored the last of the hot water before it became lukewarm. Stepping away from the spray, I turned the shower knob and watched the droplets trickle down the drain. Inhaling a deep breath my mind focused on one thing. Aidan Mitchell.

Hearing Mason’s band practicing meant he would be here. I was ninety-nine percent sure Aidan wouldn’t blow off their practice. He knew how serious my brother was about the band, but he also had been avoiding me for days.

The past week had been awful. I was determined to talk to him. All I wanted was a few answers. My emotions had run the gamut from confusion, frustration, regret, and sadness… sadness consumed me most of all, at night usually, and I was exhausted from it. But at this moment all I felt was anger. Anger was good. It was certainly better than pain.

As I rushed down the hallway, the floorboards creaked beneath my feet and the walls began to vibrate with the beat of Derek pounding on the drums. When I entered my room the music was deafening, but today I didn’t mind. I untwisted the blue-and-white-polka-dot towel from my head and tossed it to the floor.

The deep conditioner I used helped my fingers glide through my long damp curls. If I was going to confront Aidan, I wanted to look my best. No Frizzy Lizzie for me. That nickname, coupled with my big butt, had tormented me, growing up in a beach town surrounded by beautiful people. I had longed to look like a typical California girl: tall, blond, perfect. But, with dark hair and bordering on five feet three inches, that was never going to be me.

After I blow-dried and flat-ironed my hair, I took off my purple robe and draped it over my desk chair. I slipped on a pair of jeans… yes, slipped them on. I didn’t have to tug, pull, or jiggle my butt to get in my pants anymore. When I easily pushed the button through the top of my jeans, it still made me smile. I couldn’t even count how many times I had to lie on my bed and suck in my stomach so I could zip up a pair of pants. Every time I slipped them on, I never took it for granted. I had worked my butt off… literally. I put on my bra and a green sweater before I pulled on my boots.

I rushed downstairs to the door that led to the garage. Thinking about confronting Aidan and having to stare into those piercing blue eyes started to intimidate me. But this was my chance. I knew he was a few feet behind the door, and I needed to deal with him. Before I completely lost my nerve, I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled then pushed open the door.

The stream of sunlight coming in through the open garage door blinded me for a moment. With squinted eyes, I made a beeline to the old brown sofa in the corner. My heart was beating so fast it almost seemed in tempo with Derek pounding the drums. I scooted over our yellow Labrador, Maggie, and wedged myself between her and the arm of the couch. Finally, I looked up to focus my attention on Aidan.

He didn’t show.

I sunk my head back into the cushions, exhaling a deep, long sigh, trying to rid the tension from my body. The guys were practicing their newest song. Indie-Alternative was their style, and they called themselves Random Plan. I glanced at Mason and could tell he was angry. I mouthed the word “Aidan?”

Mason just shook his head.

“Derek!” The tone in my brother’s voice made me sit up straight. “Derek!” Mason snapped again.

Finally Derek stopped and silenced his cymbals.

“What?” He lifted the front of his black t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, exposing his six-pack. His brown eyes bored into Mason’s. “Hey! Just ‘cuz you’re ticked off at the pretty boy, don’t take it out on me.”

 

 

My Town in three Photos - Grand Rapids

 

by Stephanie Michels

 

 

 

Grand Rapids, Michigan is a beautiful old town, settled in the 1850's. I'm not a Grand Rapids native, but I moved here when my children were small and fell in love with the town and the people.

Here are my three photos:

The first is a picture of the bridges spanning the Grand River. Shortly after it was settled, the river was rerouted around the rapids that gave the town its name to make navigation easier for trade and shipping.

Now, we have dozens of bridges that are illuminated each night over the river to show our pride in our town, which has been named Best American City and also the Beer Making Capital of America..

 

The next picture is of my favorite sculpture called "The American Horse." It is one of two casting's of the
sculpture Leonardo DaVinci designed for the Duke of Milan in the 15th century but was never able to complete. My old boss, the late Frederick Meijer, was a patron of the arts and championed the effort to bring DaVinci's dream to life, and he personally underwrote much of the project's multi-million dollar cost. The horse was finally cast by famed animal sculptor Nina Akamu in 1999. Two copies of the sculpture were made. One was donated to the city of Milan, and the other is here in the highly acclaimed Frederick Meijer Botanical Gardens and Sculpture Park.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last picture was hard to choose as Grand Rapids has so much to offer. We have the Gerald Ford Presidential Library and Museum, beaches, the International Art-Prize competition, countless ethnic festivals, colleges, a billion dollar Medical Mile, wonderful modern architecture as well as grand, heritage homes from the Lumber Baron days, etc. But I love Grand Rapids because of the enthusiastic people. Whether they are supporting the River Bank Run; walking to Stamp out Stigmas, Breast Cancer; or MS; standing outside in sub zero weather to listen to bands and rock in the New Year; volunteering to work Laugh Fest; turning out for a Flash Mob; or joining in an attempt to break the Guiness record for Swing Dancing (which is the picture I chose), Grand Rapids people are simply amazing, dedicated, and fun!