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Book Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Reckoning by Baron Birtcher

RECKONING

by Baron Birtcher

September 4 – 29, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for RECKONING by Baron Birtcher on this Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour.

Below you will find a book synopsis, my book review, an excerpt from the book, the author bio and social media links. Enjoy!

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Book Synopsis

Ty Dawson is a small-town sheriff with big-city problems, in this riveting crime thriller from the award-winning author of Fistful of Rain.

As lawman, rancher, and Korean War veteran, Ty Dawson has his share of problems in the southern Oregon county he calls home. Despite how rural it is, Meriwether can’t keep modernity at bay. The 1970s have changed the United States—and Meriwether won’t be spared.

A standoff looms when the US Fish & Wildlife Service seeks to separate longtime cattleman KC Sheridan from his water supply—ensuring the death of his livestock. If that’s not enough trouble, a Portland detective is found dead in a fly-fishing resort cabin. Though the Portland police, including the victim’s own partner, are eager to write off the tragedy as a suicide, Ty has his own thoughts on the matter—as well as evidence that points to murder. His suspicions soon mire him in a swamp of corruption that threatens nearly everyone around him. Turns out that greed and evil are contagious—and they take down men both great and small . . .

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123226006-reckoning?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=36Qh6a5Bzl&rank=1

Reckoning

Genre: Neo-western crime thriller
Published by: Open Road Integrated Media
Publication Date: June 2023
Number of Pages: 300
ISBN: 978-1-5040-8280-8
Series: Sheriff Ty Dawson Series, #3

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

RECKONING (Ty Dawson Mysteries Book #3) by Baron Birtcher is a twisted suspenseful thriller/historical mystery/police procedural mash-up featuring a rural county Oregon sheriff and rancher set the late 1970’s that kept me reading well into the night. This is the third book in the Ty Dawson series, but I was able to easily read it as a standalone.

Sheriff Ty Dawson is a Korean war veteran, rancher, and rural Meriweather County sheriff in southern Oregon. Ty gets called out to an elderly neighbor’s ranch belonging to KC Sheridan and his wife when the US Fish & Wildlife Service fences off the longtime water supply for his cattle. Sheridan’s wife’s brother lost his ranch to the government and is now instigating his militia friends to make a stand to save KC’s ranch.

At the same time, a Portland detective is found dead in a resort cabin. His partner and the chief of police in Portland all want the death classified as a suicide and the case closed. Ty and the medical examiner know he was murdered, and he is willing to fight against the PPD to discover the truth.

Ty and his deputies work to keep the standoff at the Sheridan ranch from escalating, while also following leads in the murdered detective case. Ty is determined to find the truth, but it will cost him.

I love Ty Dawson and now want to go back and read the first two books in the series. He loves his wife and daughter, still has nightmares from his time in Korea, and has a strong sense of justice that must be satisfied. Set in the late 1970’s, historical references, significant events and lack of current technology are all intertwined throughout the story without slowing the pace. The two investigations are intricately plotted and perfectly paced. I was surprised to learn how the two investigations are tied together at the climax of this story. Greed, political corruption, drugs, and prostitution are all in abundance in this investigation with plenty of twists that keep you guessing. This is a new to me author that I am very happy to have found.

I highly recommend this addition to the series, and I am looking forward to reading more Ty Dawson books in the future.

***

Excerpt

Prelude:

A TRANSITIVE NIGHTFALL

NO CHILD IS brought into this world with any knowledge of true evil. This they learn over the passage of time. In my experience as a Sheriff, and as a rancher, I have found this precept to be true.

Time passes nevertheless, even if it passes slowly. Here in rural southern Oregon, sometimes it seemed as if it hadn’t moved at all, advancing without touching Meriwether County, except with glancing blows.

That is, until the day it caught up with us all, and came down like a goddamn hammer.

CHAPTER ONE

ORDINARILY, AUTUMN IN Meriwether County would come in hard and sudden, like a stone hurled through a window. But this year it snuck in slow and mild, lingered there deceitfully while we waited for the axe to come down.

The sky that morning was turquoise, empty of clouds, the altitude strung with elongated V’s of migrating geese and a single contrail that resembled a surgical scar, the narrows between the high valley walls opening onto a broad vista of rangeland some distance below. I had expected ice patches to have formed on the pavement overnight, but the weather had remained stubbornly dry, even as temperatures closed in on the low thirties. I tipped open the wind-wing and let the chill air blow through the cab of my pickup as I stretched, and drank off the last dregs of coffee I had brought for the long southward drive from the town of Meridian.

I had received a phone call at home the night before from an unusually distressed KC Sheridan. I had known KC for as long as I can remember, a pragmatic and taciturn cattleman whose family history in the area dated back to the late 1800s, much like that of my own. Three generations of Sheridans had stretched fence wire, planted feed-grass and run rough stock across deeded ranchland that measured its acreage in the tens of thousands, and whose boundaries straddled two separate counties, one of which was my jurisdiction.

But the decade of the ’70s thus far had not been any kinder or gentler to cowboys than to anyone else, and KC and his wife, Irene, had found themselves increasingly subject to the fulminations and intimidation of both local and federal government. While the Sheridan ranch had once numbered itself among a dozen privately held agricultural properties in the region, KC now found himself surrounded on three sides by a federally designated wildlife refuge that had swollen to encompass well over three hundred square miles; a bird sanctuary originally conceived under the auspices of President Theodore Roosevelt’s white house. All of which would have been perfectly fine and acceptable to the Sheridan family, given the understanding that the scarce water supply that ultimately fed into the bird sanctuary belonged to the Sheridans by legal covenant, as it had for nearly a century.

I turned off the paved two-lane and onto a gravel service road, headed in the direction of the ridgeline where KC sat silhouetted against the bright backdrop of clear sky, mounted astride his chestnut roping horse. KC climbed out of the saddle as I parked a short distance away, switched off the ignition and stepped down from my truck. KC trailed the horse behind him as he moved in my direction, took off his hat and ran a forearm across his brow, then pressed it back onto his head. His hair and his eyes shared a similar shade of gunmetal grey, and the hardscrabble nature of his existence as a rancher had been recorded in the deep lines of his face.

“What the hell am I supposed to do about these goings-on, Sheriff?” KC asked, and cocked his brim in the general direction of a reservoir that was the size of a small mountain lake. Two men wearing construction hardhats were surveying a line on the near shore where a third man studied a roll of blueprints he had unfurled across the hood of his work truck.

“Is that who I think it is?” I asked.

“They aim to fence off my water. My cows won’t last a week in this weather.”

“Have you talked to them, KC?”

He nodded.

“’Bout as useful as standing in a bucket and trying to lift yourself up by the handle. It’s the reason I finally called you, Ty. I didn’t know what else to do.”

The vein on KC’s temple palpitated as he cut his eyes toward the foothills and spat.

“I’ll have a word with them,” I said. “You wait here.”

A wintry wind had begun to blow down from the pass, pushing channels through the dry grass and the sweet scents of juniper and scrub pine. A harrier swept down out of a cluster of black oaks and made a series of low passes across the flats.

I averted my eyes as the sun glinted off the US Department of Fish & Wildlife shield affixed to the driver side door of a government-issue Chevy Suburban. The man studying the blueprints didn’t bother to lift his head or look at me as I stepped up beside him.

“Care to tell me why you and your men are trespassing on private ranch land?” I asked.

The man sighed, scrutinizing me over the frames of a pair of steel-rimmed reading glasses. He had a face that put me in mind of an apple carving, and a physique that resembled a burlap sack filled with claw hammers.

“Who the hell are you now?” he asked.

“Ty Dawson, Sheriff of Meriwether County. That’s the name of the county you’re standing in.”

He took off his reading glasses and slipped them into his shirt pocket, hitched a work boot onto the Suburban’s bumper and offered me an approximation of a smile.

“Well, Sheriff, I’m with Fish and Wildlife—that’s an agency of the federal government, as I’m sure you’re aware—and I have a work order that says I’m supposed to put up a fence. And that’s exactly what me and my crew are doing here.”

I gestured upslope, where KC Sheridan stood watching us, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“You’re on that man’s private property,” I said.

The government man made no move to acknowledge KC.

“I don’t split hairs over those types of details, Sheriff. The work order I’ve got lays out the metes and bounds of the line, and me and my crew just install the fence where it says to. It ain’t brain surgery.”

“Scoot over and let me have a look at that site map.”

“I oughtta radio this in.”

“You do whatever you think you need to,” I said. “But do it while I’m looking at your map.”

He lifted his chin and looked as though he was conducting a dialogue with himself, then finally stepped to one side. I studied the blueprint for a few moments, looked out across the rock-studded range and got my bearings.

“Looks to me like the boundary line for the bird refuge is at least a hundred yards to the other side of this reservoir,” I said. “Your map is mismarked.”

“The agency doesn’t mismark maps, Sheriff.”

“They sure as hell mismarked this one. You need to stop your work until this gets sorted out.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Care to repeat that? There’s clearly been a mistake.”

“No mistake. You need to step away, Sheriff.”

“Let me explain something to you,” I said, removing my sunglasses. “It’s the law in the State of Oregon that the water that comes up on Mr. Sheridan’s property belongs to Mr. Sheridan. Period. If you fence off his reservoir—especially this late in the season—you’re not only stealing his water, you’re murdering his herd.”

The agency man lifted his foot off the bumper, set his feet wide and faced off with me. He slid both hands into the back pockets of his canvas overalls and rocked back on his heels.

“Now it’s my turn to try to explain something to you, Sheriff: I been given a job to do, and I intend to do it. If you don’t walk away right this minute and leave me to it, I will be forced to radio this in. Long and the short of it is, the guys who will come out here after me will have badges, too. And their badges are bigger than yours.”

“I won’t allow you to trespass onto private property, steal this man’s water and kill his livestock.”

He glanced at his two crewmen staking the line then turned his attention back to me.

“You going to arrest us?” he asked.

“What is it with you agency people? Why is it that your first inclination is to slam the pedal all the way to the floor?”

“When me and the boys come back out here, it won’t just be the three of us no more.”

“I’m finished talking about this,” I said. “Pack up your gear and go.”

I could feel his eyes boring holes into the back of my head as I picked my way back up the incline where Sheridan stood waiting for me.

“I can tell by your stride that you had the same kind of dialogue experience I had with that fella,” KC said.

“Bureaucrats with hardhats.”

“I ain’t no cupcake, Dawson. But, you know that those sonsabitches have been tweaking my nose for years.”

“Those men are part of a federal agency, KC, make no mistake. If you’re not careful, they’ll try to roll right over the top of you.”

“What do you call what they’re doing right now? I don’t intend to lay down for it.”

“I’m not saying you should.”

“What, then?”

“Get on the phone and call Judge Yates up in Salem,” I said. “Ask him if he can slap an injunction on these clowns until we get it sorted out.”

Sheridan’s horse pinned back his ears and began to shuffle his forelegs, responding to the tone our conversation had taken. KC calmed the animal with a caress of its neck, dipped into the pocket of his wool coat, snapped off a few pieces of carrot and fed it to the gelding from the flat of his palm.

“I’ll do it, Ty, but I swear to god—”

“KC, you call me before you do anything else, you understand?”

***

Author Bio

Baron R Birtcher is the LA TIMES and IMBA BESTSELLING author of the hardboiled Mike Travis series (Roadhouse Blues, Ruby Tuesday, Angels Fall, and Hard Latitudes), the award-winning Ty Dawson series (South California Purples, Fistful Of Rain, and Reckoning), as well as the critically-lauded stand-alone, RAIN DOGS.

Baron is a five-time winner of the SILVER FALCHION AWARD, and the WINNER of 2018’s Killer Nashville READERS CHOICE AWARD, as well as 2019’s BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR for Fistful Of Rain.

He has also had the honor of having been named a finalist for the NERO AWARD, the LEFTY AWARD, the FOREWORD INDIE AWARD, the 2016 BEST BOOK AWARD, the Pacific Northwest’s regional SPOTTED OWL AWARD, and the CLAYMORE AWARD.

Social Media Links

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BaronRBirtcher/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/reckoning-by-baron-birtcher

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/974486.Baron_R_Birtcher

Purchase Links

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Mini Book Review: The Paris Agent by Kelly Rimmer

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing a Feature Post and Book Review for THE PARIS AGENT by Kelly Rimmer on this HTP Books Summer 2023 Blog Tour.

Below you will find an about the book section, my mini book review, an excerpt from the book, an about the author section, and the author’s social media links. Enjoy!

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About the Book

For fans of fast-paced historical thrillers like Our Woman in Moscow and The Rose Code, Rimmer’s brilliant new novel follows three female SOE operatives as their lives intersect in occupied France, and the double agent who controls their fate.

Twenty-five years after the end of the war, an aging Marcel Augustin is reflecting on his life during those perilous, exhilarating years as a British SOE operative in occupied France—in particular the agent who saved his life during a mission gone wrong, whose real name he never knew, nor whether she survived the war. Piqued by her father’s memories, Marcel’s daughter Charlotte begins a search for answers that resurrects the unrest and uncertainty from that period of his life. What follows is the story of Eloise, Josie and Virginia, three otherwise ordinary, average women whose lives intersect in 1943 when they’re called up by the SOE for deployment in France. Taking enormous risks to support the allied troops with very little information or resources, the three women have no idea they’re at the mercy of a double agent within their ranks who’s causing chaos within the French circuits, whose efforts will affect the outcome of their lives.

As Charlotte’s search for answers continues, new suspicions are raised about the identity of the double agent, with unsettling clues pointing to her father, and more mysteries are unearthed from the last days of the war about the eventual fates of Eloise, Josie and Virginia.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62197599-the-paris-agent?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=HchHqA89Xk&rank=1

The Paris Agent : A World War II Mystery

Kelly Rimmer

9781525826689

Trade Paperback

$18.99 USD

368 pages

***

My Mini Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

THE PARIS AGENT by Kelly Rimmer is a moving historical fiction novel written with dual intertwining timelines; one set during WWII in France following two female SOE operatives and the other set in 1970 England with a survivor trying to uncover the mystery surrounding their betrayals and deaths. This is a story that pulled me in emotionally and made it impossible to stop reading. Make sure you have the tissues handy for the ending.

This story is extensively researched and believable. The author makes you feel the emotional suspense and distress of the SOE operatives while they are in France. That these young women volunteered and were sent into occupied territory during WWII with only months of training and no guarantee they would return alive demonstrates their strength, bravery, and belief in freedom. The second story line follows a father and daughter duo looking for answers twenty-five years after WWII to fill in questions the father still has after a brain injury while with the SOE in France, but many of the documents are still classified. The two storylines come together is an emotional climax that is gut-wrenching and uncomfortable.

I highly recommend this historical fiction novel featuring strong women caught up in the horrors of war and the long-lasting emotional ripples that flow through their families.

***

Excerpt

Prologue

ELOISE

Germany

October, 1944

Perhaps at first glance, we might have looked like ordinary passengers: four women in civilian clothes, sitting in pairs facing one another, the private carriage of the passenger train illuminated by the golden light of a cloudless late-summer sunrise. Only upon closer inspection would a passerby have seen the handcuffs that secured us, our wrists resting at our sides, between us not because we meant to hide them but because we were exhausted, and they were too heavy to rest on our bony thighs. Only at a second glance would they have noticed the emaciated frames or the clothes that didn’t quite fit, or the scars and healing wounds each of us bore after months of torture and imprisonment.

I was handcuffed to a petite woman I knew first as Chloe, although in recent weeks, we had finally shared our real names with one another. It was entirely possible that she was the best friend I’d ever known—not that there was much competition for that title, given friendship had never come easy to me. Two British women, Mary and Wendy, sat opposite us. They had trained together, as Chloe and I had trained together, and like us, they had been “lucky enough” to recently find themselves imprisoned together too. Mary and Wendy appeared just as shell-shocked as Chloe and I were by the events of that morning.

As our captors had reminded us often since our arrests, we were plainclothes assassins and as such, not even entitled to the basic protections of the Geneva Convention. So why on earth had we been allowed the luxury of a shower that morning, and why had we been given clean civilian clothes to wear after months in the filthy outfits we’d been wearing since our capture? Why were they transporting us by passenger train, and in a luxurious private carriage, no less? This wasn’t my first time transferring between prisons since my capture. I knew from bitter personal experience that the usual travel arrangement was, at best, the crowded, stuffy back end of a covered truck or at worst, a putrid, overcrowded boxcar.

But this carriage was modern and spacious, comfortable and relaxed. The leather seats were soft beneath me and the air was clean and light in a way I’d forgotten air should be after months confined to filthy cells.

“This could be a good sign,” I whispered suddenly. Chloe eyed me warily, but my optimism was picking up steam now, and I turned to face her as I thought aloud. “I bet Baker Street has negotiated better conditions for us! Maybe this transfer is a step toward our release. Maybe that’s why…” I nodded toward our only companions in the carriage, seated on the other side of the aisle. “Maybe that’s why she’s here. Could it be that she’s been told to keep us safe and comfortable?”

Chloe and I had had little to do with the secretary at Karlsruhe Prison, but I had seen her in the hallway outside of our cell many times, always scurrying after the terrifyingly hostile warden. It made little sense for a secretary to accompany us on a transfer, but there she was, dressed in her typical tweed suit, her blond hair constrained in a thick bun at the back of her skull. The secretary sat facing against the direction of travel, opposite the two armed guards who earlier had marched me and Chloe onto the covered truck at the prison, then from the covered truck onto the platform to join the train. The men had not introduced themselves, but like all agents with the British Special Operations Executive, I’d spent weeks memorizing German uniforms and insignias. I knew at a glance that these were low-ranking Sicherheitsdienst officers—members of the SD. The Nazi intelligence agency.

The secretary spoke to the guards, her voice low but her tone playful. She held a suitcase on her lap, and she winked as she tapped it. The men both brightened, surprised smiles transforming their stern expressions, then she theatrically popped the suitcase lid to reveal a shockingly generous bounty of thick slices of sausages and chunks of cheese, a large loaf of sliced rye bread and…was that butter? The scent of the food flooded the carriage as the secretary and the guards used the suitcase as a table for their breakfast.

It was far too much food for three people but I knew they’d never share it with us. My stomach rumbled violently, but after months surviving on scant prison rations, I was desperate enough that I felt lucky to be in the mere presence of such a feast.

“I heard the announcement as we came onto the carriage— this train goes to Strasbourg, doesn’t it? Do you have any idea what’s waiting for us there? This is all a bit…” Wendy paused, gnawing her lip anxiously. “None of it makes sense. Why are they treating us so well?”

“This is the Strasbourg train,” Chloe confirmed cautiously. There was a subtle undertone to those words—something hesitant, concerned. I frowned, watching her closely, but just then the secretary leaned toward the aisle. She spoke to us in rapid German and pointed to the suitcase in her lap.

Had we done something wrong? More German words but it may as well have been Latin to me, because I spoke only French and English. Just then, the secretary huffed impatiently and pushed the suitcase onto the empty seat beside her as she stood. She held a plate toward me, and when I stared at it blankly, she waved impatiently toward Chloe and spoke again in German.

“What…”

“She wants you to take it,” Chloe translated for me, and I took the plate with my one free hand, bewildered. Chloe passed it to Wendy, and so on, until we all held plates in our hands. The secretary then passed us fat slices of sausage and cheese and several slices of bread each. Soon, our plates were filled with the food, each of us holding a meal likely more plentiful than we’d experienced since our arrival in France.

“She’s toying with us,” Mary whispered urgently. “She’ll take it back. She won’t let us eat it so don’t get your hopes up.”

I nodded subtly—I’d assumed the same. And so, I tried to ignore the treasure sitting right beneath my nose. I tried not to notice how garlicky and rich that sausage smelled, how creamy the cheese looked, or how the butter was so thick on the bread that it might also have been cheese. I told myself the increasing pangs in my stomach were just part of the torture and the smartest thing I could do was to ignore them altogether, but the longer I held the plate, the harder it was to refocus my mind on anything but the pain in my stomach and the feast in my hands that would bring instant and lasting relief.

When all the remaining food had been divided between us prisoners, the secretary waved impatiently toward the plates on our laps, then motioned toward her mouth.

“Eat!” she said, in impatient but heavily accented English.

Chloe and I exchanged shocked glances. Conditions in Karlsruhe Prison were not the worst we’d seen since our respective captures, but even so, we’d been hungry for so long. The starvation was worse for Chloe than me. She had a particularly sensitive constitution and ate a narrow range of foods in order to avoid gastric distress. Since our reunion at the prison, we’d developed a system of sharing our rations so she could avoid the foods which made her ill but even so, she remained so thin I had sometimes worried I’d wake up one morning to find she’d died in her sleep.

“What can you eat?” I asked her urgently.

She looked at our plates then blurted, “Sausage. I’ll eat the sausage.”

For the next ten minutes we prisoners fell into silence except for the occasional, muffled moan of pleasure and relief as we devoured the food. I was trying to find the perfect compromise between shoving it all into my mouth as fast as I could in case the secretary changed her mind and savoring every bite with the respect a meal like that commanded. By the time my plate was empty and my surroundings came back to me, the guards and the secretary were having a lovely time, laughing amongst themselves and chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

For a long while, we prisoners traveled in silence, holding our plates on our laps at first, then after Wendy set the precedent, lifting them to our mouths to lick them clean. Still, the guards chatted and laughed and if I judged their tones correctly, even flirted with the secretary? It gradually dawned on me that they were paying us very little attention.

“How far is Strasbourg? Does anyone know?” I asked. Wendy and Mary shook their heads as they shrugged, but Chloe informed me it was hundreds of miles. Her shoulders had slumped again despite the gift of the food, and I nudged her gently and offered a soft smile. “We have a long journey ahead. Good. That means we have time for a pleasant chat while our bellies are full.”

By unspoken agreement, we didn’t discuss our work with the Special Operations Executive (SOE). It was obvious to me that each of the other women had been badly beaten at some point—Wendy was missing a front tooth, Mary held her left hand at an odd angle as if a fractured wrist had healed badly, and Chloe… God, even if she hadn’t explained to me already, I’d have known just looking at her that Chloe had been to hell and back. It seemed safe to assume we had all been interrogated literally almost to death at some point, but there was still too much at stake to risk giving away anything the Germans had not gleaned from us already. So instead of talking about our work or our peculiar circumstances on that train, we talked as though we weren’t wearing handcuffs. As though we weren’t on our way to, at the very best, some slightly less horrific form of imprisonment.

We acted as though we were two sets of friends on a casual jaunt through the countryside. We talked about interesting features outside our window—the lush green trees in the tall forests, the cultivated patches of farmland, the charming facades of cottages and apartments on the streets outside. Mary cooed over a group of adorable children walking to school, and Wendy talked about little shops we passed in the picturesque villages. Chloe shared longing descriptions of the foods she missed the most—fresh fruit and crisp vegetables, eggs cooked all manner of ways, herbs and spices and salt. I lamented my various aches and pains and soon everyone joined in and we talked as if we were elderly people reflecting on the cruelty of aging, not four twenty-somethings who had been viciously, repeatedly beaten by hateful men.

I felt the warmth of the sunshine on my face through the window of the carriage and closed my eyes, reveling in the simple pleasures of fresh air and warm skin and the company of the best friend I’d ever known. I even let myself think about the secretary and that picnic, and feel the relief that I was, for the first time in months, in the company of a stranger who had shown kindness toward me. I’d almost forgotten that was something people did for one another.

I’d never been an especially cheerful sort of woman and I’d never been an optimist, but those past months had forced me to stare long and hard at the worst aspects of the human condition and I’d come to accept a certain hopelessness even when it came to my own future. But on that train, bathed in early morning sunlight and basking in a full stomach and pleasant company, my spirits lifted until they soared toward something like hope.

For the first time in months, I even let myself dream that I’d survive to embrace my son Hughie again. Maybe, even after all I’d seen and done, the world could still be good. Maybe, even after everything, I could find reason to have faith.

***

About the Author

Kelly Rimmer is the worldwide, New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of The German Wife, The Warsaw Orphan, and The Things We Cannot Say. She lives in rural Australia with her husband, two children and fantastically naughty dogs, Sully and Basil. Her novels have been translated into more than twenty languages.

Social Media Links

Author website: https://www.kellyrimmer.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Kellymrimmer/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KelRimmerWrites

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kelrimmerwrites/

Purchase Links

Bookshop.org: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-paris-agent-kelly-rimmer/18794141?ean=9781525826689

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-paris-agent-kelly-rimmer/1143459526?ean=9781525826689

Books A Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Paris-Agent/Kelly-Rimmer/9781525826689

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Paris-Agent-Kelly-Rimmer/dp/1525826689

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Famous in a Small Town by Viola Shipman

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for FAMOUS IN A SMALL TOWN by Viola Shipman on this HTP Books Summer 2023 Blog Tour.

Below you will find a book summary, my book review, an excerpt from the book, and the author’s bio and social media links. Enjoy!

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Book Summary

Fried Green Tomatoes meets Midnight at the Blackbird Café in USA Today bestselling author Viola Shipman’s FAMOUS IN A SMALL TOWN, a heartwarming story about intergenerational friendship and self-discovery, set in beautiful Northern Michigan.

In 1958, 15-year-old Mary Jackson became the first woman ever crowned The Cherry Pit Spittin’ Champion of Good Hart, Michigan, landing her in the Guinness Book of World Records, and earning her the nickname Cherry Mary. Nearly 80 years old at the story’s start, Mary runs The Very Cherry General Store, a business that has been passed through three generations of women in the family. While there is no female next of kin, Mary believes the fourth is fated to arrive, as predicted by “Fata Morgana,” a Lake Michigan mirage of four women walking side by side.

Becky Thatcher (yes, like the Mark Twain character), an Assistant Principal from St. Louis, has just broken up with her long-term boyfriend and heads to Good Hart for a healing girl’s trip with her best friend. When Becky drunkenly spits a cherry pit an impressive distance, Mary urges her to enter the upcoming contest, and wonders if Becky could be the woman she’s been waiting for.

Bursting with memorable characters and small-town lore, FAMOUS IN A SMALL TOWN is a magical story about the family you’re born with, and the one you choose.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62197591-famous-in-a-small-town?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=DazqmI3wX4&rank=3

Famous in a Small Town

Author: Viola Shipman

Publisher: Graydon House

Paperback Original

ISBN 978-1525804854

Price: $18.99

***

My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

FAMOUS IN A SMALL TOWN by Viola Shipman is a wonderful women’s fiction story with romantic elements that is full of Michigan summertime vacation nostalgia, generational family drama, the bonds of friendship, and the discovery and belief in the power of women all delivered with a cherry on top. This is the perfect summertime read, especially if you are a fan of all things tart cherry.

Mary Jackson became “Cherry Mary” as a girl of fifteen when she won the cherry pit spitting distance contest in her small hometown of Good Hart, not only beating all the men, but also obtaining the Guinness World Record. Sixty-five years later, she is now eighty years old, still undefeated and runs her family’s Very Cherry General Store and waits for the girl she was told in her visions would come to carry on.

Becky Thatcher has turned forty and feels stuck in a monotonous life, with nothing to show for it. She and her best friend, “Q” take off for a vacation in Good Hart to relive the fun childhood holidays she remembers with her grandparents. When Becky spits a cherry pit, Mary witnesses the record breaker and believes Becky is the girl she has been waiting for. While not the vacation she was expecting, Becky works under Mary’s wing and soon discovers peace and beauty in the small town and the belief that Mary may be right, and this is where she is meant to be.

Enchanting, emotional, and memorable characters and landscapes are all present in this story. It is summertime memories, trips with grandparents, small town nostalgia all intertwined with everything tart cherry. The strength and power of women is a recurring theme throughout. The sweet romance is a relatively small subplot in this story, but it is relevant to both main characters. I feel this is the perfect summertime read and I loved it.

I highly recommend this very cherry women’s fiction!

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Excerpt

THE LAKE EFFECT EXPRESS

August 1958

“Good News from Good Hart!”

by Shirley Ann Potter

It was the spit heard ’round the world!

Our town is still atwitter over the news that the daughter of Mr. Peter Jackson was crowned the 35th Annual Cherry Pit Spittin’ Champion of Leelanau and Emmet County last Saturday. Fifteen-year-old Mary Jackson, an Emmet County high-school sophomore, was not only the first woman—uh, girl—to win the contest, but her stone flew a Guinness Book of World Records–breaking distance of ninety-three feet six-and-a-half inches, shattering the previous record set by “Too Tall” Fred Jones in 1898 at the state’s very first Cherry Championship right here in Good Hart.

News of her accomplishment has flown farther than her cherry pit, with reporters from as far away as New York and London anointing our town sprite with the moniker “Cherry Mary.”

I caught up with Mary at the Very Cherry General Store—our beloved post office/grocery store/sandwich-

and-soda-shop run by Mary’s mother and grandmother—to see how she managed such a Herculean feat.

“My mom taught me to whistle when I was a kid (“A kid!” Don’t you just love that, readers?), and I had to be loud enough for her to hear me when she was down at the lake. I think that made my lips strong,” Mary says. “And I started eating sunflower seeds when I was fishing on the boat with my grandma. She taught me how to spit them without having the wind blow them back in the boat.”

Mary says she practiced for the contest by standing in the middle of M-119—the road that houses our beautiful Tunnel of Trees—and spitting stones into the wind when a storm was brewing on Lake Michigan.

“I knew if I could make it a far piece into the wind, I could do it when it was still.”

While her grandmother was “over the moon” for Mary’s feat, saying, “It’s about time,” Mr. Jackson says of his daughter’s accomplishment, “It’s certainly unusual for a girl, but Mary isn’t your average girl. Maybe all this got it out of her system, so to speak. I hope so for her sake.”

The plucky teenager seems nonplussed by the attention, despite seeing her face all over northern Michigan in the papers and the T-shirts featuring her face—cheeks puffed, stone leaving her mouth—and the words Cherry Mary in bright red over the image.

“A girl can do anything a man can,” Mary says in between retrieving mail, spreading mayonnaise on a tomato sandwich and twirling a cherry around in her mouth, before perfectly depositing the stone in a trash can across the room. “You just gotta believe you can. That’s the hard part. Harder than spitting any old pit.”

Mary seems ready to conquer the world, readers. Cheers, Cherry Mary! Our hometown heroine!

*******

BECKY

June 2023

“Okay, Benjie, would you like it if Ashley did this to you?”

He scrunches up his face to stave off tears and shakes his head. “No.”

“Well, it’s not a nice thing to do.”

I study Ashley’s hair, then take her face in my hands. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me?”

The little girl nods her head. I give her a hug.

I walk over to my desk and open the bottom drawer . There is a large jar of creamy peanut butter sitting next to a bag of mini Snickers. The peanut butter is for emergencies like this: removing gum from a little girls’ hair. The Snickers are for me after I’m finished with this life lesson.

“Well, I’m just glad neither of you are allergic to peanuts,” I say. “Allows me to do this.”

I cover the gum stuck in the back of Ashley’s pretty, long, blond hair and then look at her.

“I promise this works,” I say. “I’ve performed a lot of gum surgery.”

She nods. Her eyes are red from crying, her cheeks blotchy.

“Why did you do this, Benjie?” I ask the little boy seated in the chair before my desk.

He ducks his head sheepishly, his brown bangs falling into his eyes, and murmurs something into his chest.

“I didn’t catch that,” I say. “What did you say? Remember it’s okay to express your emotions.”

He looks at me, freckles twitching on his cheeks. “I can’t say,” he whispers.

“Yes, you can,” I say. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

Benjie glances toward the door to ensure that it is closed. “Tyler Evans told me to do it or he’d punch me on the way home.”

Being a grade-school administrator is akin to being a detective: you have to work the perp to get the truth. Eventually—no matter the age—they break, especially when a verdict on punishment is waiting in the balance.

It’s the last day of school. Benjie does not want his summer to be ruined.

I lean down and slide the gum out of Ashley’s hair. I go to my sink, dampen a cloth and put some dish soap on it, return and clean the rest of the peanut butter off her locks. I move to a tall filing cabinet and retrieve a clean brush. The filing cabinet is filled with bags of sealed brushes and combs, toothbrushes and EpiPens, certificates and old laptops. I run the brush through her hair. I hold up a mirror for her to see the back of her head.

“See, good as new.”

“What do you say to Ashley, Benjie?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you accept his apology?”

Ashley shakes her head no. “You ruined the last day of school. You’re a big ol’ meanie.”

“Ashley,” I say, my tone sweet but authoritarian.

“I accept your apology,” she says.

“You’re free to go,” I say to her.

“But you’re still a big ol’ poop head,” she says, racing out of my office, bubblegum-free hair bouncing.

I actually have to clench my hands very hard to stifle a laugh.

Big ol’ poop head.

How many times a day would I—would any adult—like to scream that at someone?

“Are you telling my parents?” Benjie asks.

“I have to,” I say, “but I’ll tell them why you did it, and then I’ll have a talk with Tyler.”

“No!”

“I have to do that, too,” I explain. “And I’ll talk to his parents as well.”

He looks at me, his chin quivering.

“We have a zero-tolerance policy here for bullying,” I say. “Trust me, Tyler won’t do it again. You have to stand up to bullies. You have to show them the right way to do things. Otherwise, they never change.”

In addition to being a detective, an assistant principal is also akin to being the vice-president of the United States. Everyone knows your name, everyone knows you’ve achieved some level of status, but nobody really understands what the hell you do all day.

“I promise it will be okay,” I say. “Just promise me you won’t do it again. You’re a nice boy, Benjie. That’s a wonderful thing. Always remember that.”

“I promise.” He looks at me. “Can I go now?”

“One more thing. You know you aren’t supposed to bring gum to school.”

“I know. But one of the moms was handing it out before school.”

Mrs. Yates, I instantly know. She wants to be the cool mom. She’s Room Mom for 2A, and, Mrs. Trimbley, the Room Mom for 2B, told me that competing with her this year was like being a contestant in Squid Game.

Benjie continues. “It’s Bubble Yum. My favorite. My mom won’t let me have it because it’s bad for my teeth.”

Benjie opens his mouth and smiles. He resembles a jack-o’-lantern. He’s missing teeth here and there, willy-nilly, black holes where baby teeth once lived and adult teeth will soon reside.

Too late, I want to say to Benjie, but he won’t get my humor. Only my best friend, Q, understands it, and my grandparents who made me this way.

I think of how much I loved chewing gum as a kid.

“Do you have any more?”

“Am I going to get in trouble again?”

“No,” I say with a laugh.

He reaches into the pocket of his little jeans and hands me a piece of grape Bubble Yum.

My favorite.

“Do you know what my teacher used to say when I’d sneak gum into class?”

“You snuck gum into class?”

He stares at me with more admiration than if Albert Pujols from the St. Louis Cardinals suddenly appeared with an autographed baseball.

“I did,” I say. “It was about the only bad thing I ever did. My teacher used to hold out her hand in front of my desk and ask, ‘Did you bring enough gum to share with the whole class?’”

“Did you?” Benjie asks, wild-eyed.

“No,” I say. “That was the whole point. She wanted to embarrass me. And it always worked. Teachers just liked to say that.”

I take the gum from Benjie. “This is just between us, okay?”

He giggles and nods.

I pop the gum into my mouth. It’s even more insanely sweet and sugary and tastes even better than I remember. My taste buds explode. I chew, Benjie watching me with grand amusement, and then—looking out my window to make sure the coast is clear—blow a big bubble. A massive bubble, in fact. It expands until it’s the size of a small balloon. Benjie continues to watch me in silence as a child today might do today trying to figure out how to use a rotary phone. After a few moments, the flavor subsides.

“Want to learn a trick?” I ask.

“Yeah!”

“If you ever get caught chewing gum, don’t stick it in a nice girl’s hair or swallow it. Learn to do this.” I narrow my lips as if I’m going to whistle, puff my cheeks and spit my gum into the air as if Michael Jordan were draining a game-winning three-pointer as time expired. The purple gum arcs into the air and deposits directly into a trash can next to a low-slung sofa ten feet across my office.

Benjie pumps his fist and lifts his hand to high-five me.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asks.

“Sunday school,” I wink. “My grandma taught me.”

***

Author Bio

VIOLA SHIPMAN is the pen name for internationally bestselling LGBTQIA author Wade Rouse. Wade is the author of fifteen books, which have been translated into 21 languages and sold over a million copies around the world. Wade chose his grandmother’s name, Viola Shipman, as a pen name to honor the working poor Ozarks seamstress whose sacrifices changed his family’s life and whose memory inspires his fiction. Wade’s books have been selected multiple times as Must-Reads by NBC’s Today Show, Michigan Notable Books of the Year and Indie Next Picks. He lives in Michigan and California, and hosts Wine & Words with Wade, A Literary Happy Hour, every Thursday.

Social Media Links

Author Website

Twitter: @Viola_Shipman

Facebook: Author Viola Shipman

Instagram: @Viola_Shipman

Goodreads

Purchase Links

HarperCollins: https://www.harpercollins.com/products/famous-in-a-small-town-viola-shipman?variant=40980279459874

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/famous-in-a-small-town-viola-shipman/1142722523

BookShop: https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-champion-of-good-hart-viola-shipman/18794129?ean=9781525804854

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1525804855/keywords=fiction?tag=harpercollinsus-20

Blog Tour/Feature Post and Book Review: Where the Grass Grows Blue by Hope Gibbs

Hi, everyone!

Today I am sharing my Feature Post and Book Review for WHERE THE GRASS GROWS BLUE by Hope Gibbs on this AME Blog Tour.

Below you will find an author Q&A, a book description, my book review, the author’s bio and social media links and a Rafflecopter giveaway. Enjoy!

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Author Q&A

How did you do research for your book?

Where the Grass Grows Blue is set in Kentucky, where I was born and raised, so I was comfortable with most topics—food, dialogue, and setting. But I did write in flashbacks and had to study pop culture during those decades so as to not get the year wrong. I also had to do some serious research into genetic diseases, as they are a plot point for my protagonist.

Which was the hardest character to write? The easiest?

The hardest to write by far was the main character, Penny. She is a complicated and sometimes frustrating character by design.

The easiest was Bradley, her love interest. I might have developed a literary crush on him while writing.

Where do you get inspiration for your stories?

I want to bring the charm of the South to a wider community of readers. It’s my goal to immerse them in the culture, food, and characters, so I look around my surroundings or dig back to my upbringing to find inspiration.

What advice would you give budding writers?

In the words of Nike, “Just do it!” You’ll never know unless you try. Of course, there are going to be bumps, sometimes mountains, along the way, but if you believe in yourself, your voice, and find the right support system, you can make it happen too.

Your book is set in Kentucky. Have you ever been there?

I was born and raised in the Bluegrass State. I still consider it home, though I’ve been gone for decades.

If you could put yourself as a character in your book, who would you be?

Penny’s best friend, Dakota. She is a truth-teller and doesn’t worry about what anyone thinks of her. She’s also fiercely loyal.

Do you have another profession besides writing?

I was a stay-at-home mother of five for twenty-five years. A few years ago, I started re-evaluating my life. At that point, it hit me. My children would soon be leaving for college. So I started “journaling” on a laptop. That lasted about a week before I noticed I wasn’t writing about my feelings or goals—I was creating a character. Now that my children are grown, I’m writing full-time. But that’s only one part of my “writing life.” I’m also a tour guide for Bookish Road Trip, an upbeat community of book lovers, authors, and bibliophiles. You can find them on Facebook, Instagram, and on their website. I’m in charge of the Author Take the Wheel program.

How long have you been writing?

I started about five years ago. It’s been a wonderful creative outlet.

Do you ever get writer’s block? What helps you overcome it?

Of course. Music has been a huge part of my creative process. It really inspires me and allows my mind to go places, creating new worlds. Also, running and exercise helps. Some of my best ideas happen when I work out.

What is your next project?

I’m almost finished with my second book, Ashes to Ashes. It’s an upmarket fiction book, set in the South, of course, that focuses on a tight-knit group of women whose world is rocked after the unexpected death of their dear friend, Ellen, under mysterious circumstances. But before they can even process their grief, they stumble across a web of secrets and lies, unraveling Ellen’s perfect life—the one she tried so hard to project to the outside world. Now they must rely on each other to find out who the real Ellen Foster was while grappling with the idea that they never really knew her at all.

What genre do you write in?

Women’s fiction and contemporary romance. But my third book will be historical fiction because it’s set in the early 1970s. I don’t want to be boxed into one genre.

What is the last great book you’ve read?

On Gin Lane by Brooke Lea Foster. I can’t tell you how much I loved that book.

What is a favorite compliment you have received on your writing?

“The author’s writing was like paint on a canvas, creating a vibrant picture of life in Kentucky, so much so that I was easily transported there.” Reader Views review.

If your book were made into a movie, who would star in the leading roles?

This is fun! Because it has dual timelines (flashbacks to the 70s and 80s and a “current” timeline set in 2009), I would have to cast young and older actors.

For the adult Penny, Elizabeth Olsen would be the perfect choice and for the younger version, circa 1985–89, it would absolutely be Sadie Sink. The adult Bradley? It’s Henry Cavill all the way with Tanner Buchanan taking the younger role.

As for Ruby Ray, Penny’s beloved grandmother, she would be played by Laura Dern (in the 1970s flashback) and Diane Ladd as the older Ruby Ray. They are two of my favorite actresses of all time and they are mother and daughter.

And finally, Dakota, Penny’s best friend with a salty tongue, would be played by Rashida Jones while Margo Martindale would make a fine Miss Paulette, Camden, Kentucky’s premier town gossip.

Maybe I should be a casting agent!

If your book were made into a movie, what songs would be on the soundtrack?

It’s funny you should ask. I literally made a playlist for this book as I was writing it. Whenever I was in the car or exercising, I listened to it over and over again.

Name by Goo Goo Dolls

American Girl by Tom Petty

Heaven by Brian Adams

When the Roll is Called Up Yonder by Johnny Cash

Cruel Summer by Bananarama

Let It Be Me by Ray LaMontagne

Feels Like Home by Edwina Hayes

The Promise by Tracy Chapman

Fix You by Coldplay

All That You Are by Goo Goo Dolls

What were the biggest rewards and challenges with writing your book?

The biggest challenge was deciding where to start. To be honest with you, I had no idea what I was doing. I spent about three and a half years writing, rewriting, and editing my novel, Where the Grass Grows Blue completely by myself. This was the first book I had ever written, so there was a lot of trial and error involved.

What is one piece of advice you would give to an aspiring author?

Write, write, write. It’s the only way to get better. Also, I suggest joining writing groups. I’m a member of the WFWA (Women’s Fiction Writers Association). It’s been a wealth of knowledge and has connected me to so many authors and aspiring writers, who are the most generous people on the planet with their time and advice.

Which authors inspired you to write?

Elin Hilderbrand. She’s the reason I started writing in the first place. I adore her. I even traveled to Nantucket last fall with a group of girlfriends to have the Elin “experience.” It was an absolute blast, plus I met her! On my website, you can find a blog post I wrote about that trip.

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Book Description

Penny Crenshaw’s divorce and her husband’s swift remarriage to a much younger woman have been hot topics around Atlanta’s social circles. After a year of enduring the cruel gossip, Penny leaps from the frying pan into the fire by heading back to Kentucky to settle her grandmother’s estate.

Reluctantly, Penny travels to her hometown of Camden, knowing she will be stirring up all the ghosts from her turbulent childhood. But not all her problems stem from a dysfunctional family. One of Penny’s greatest sources of pain lives just down the street: Bradley Hitchens, her childhood best friend, the keeper of her darkest secrets, and the boy who shattered her heart.

As Penny struggles with sorting through her grandmother’s house and her own memories, a colorful group of friends drifts back into her life, reminding her of the unique warmth, fellowship, and romance that only the Bluegrass state can provide. Now that fate has forced Penny back, she must either let go of the scars of her past or risk losing a second chance at love. Can she learn to live an unbridled life?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63259909-where-the-grass-grows-blue?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=xkSPW8JS2A&rank=2

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

WHERE THE GRASS GROWS BLUE by Hope Gibbs is a heartfelt, enchanting, and beautiful Southern women’s fiction/romance story that I found impossible to put down. This is one woman’s journey that will resonate in part or in total with so many real-life women’s stories.

Penny Crenshaw is far from her poor and emotionally fraught upbringing in Kentucky and is a happy housewife and mother in affluent Atlanta until she discovers not only is her husband having an affair, but he is divorcing her for a much younger woman. Even with their divorce, her husband still controls Penny’s life.

When he takes their three boys on an extended African vacation with his new wife, Penny returns to her small hometown of Camden, Kentucky to get the house her grandmother left her ready for sale. Penny knows the memories will be difficult, but she still has relatives and friends to help. The one person she is determined to avoid is Dr. Bradley Hitchens. He was her best friend, keeper of her most emotionally shattering secret, and the one who shattered her heart.

With Southern comfort and grace, Penny will struggle with her past, find comfort in old friends and relations, and learn to live without fear for a second chance at a soul deep love.

This is an emotional roller-coaster of women’s fiction/romance with exceptionally crafted characters. I love Penny and Bradley’s second chance romance. Penny is discovering sometimes you just cannot outrun your past; you must return and face it head on to move forward. Penny’s journey is written intertwined with exquisitely descriptive small town Southern cuisine, gardening, church, supportive relatives and friends to interfering gossiping busybodies. This is a story and characters that I will be thinking about for quite some time.

I highly recommend this wonderful story!

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Author Bio

Hope Gibbs grew up in rural Scottsville, Kentucky. As the daughter of an English teacher, she was raised to value the importance of good storytelling from an early age. Today, she’s an avid reader of women’s fiction. Drawn to multi-generational family sagas, relationship issues, and the complexities of being a woman, she translates those themes into her own writing.

Hope lives in Tennessee with her husband and her persnickety Shih Tzu, Harley. She is also the mother of five. In her downtime, she loves playing tennis, poring over old church cookbooks, singing karaoke, curling up on her favorite chair with a book, and playing board games.

Hope has a B.A. from Western Kentucky University and is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association.

Social Media Links

Website: https://www.authorhopegibbs.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/hopegibbsauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HopeGibbstuib

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorhopegibbs/

Purchase Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/3MJraZi

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63259909-where-the-grass-grows-blue

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RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/463009dc2/

Feature Post and Book Review: Protected by the Gargoyle by Lisa Carlisle

Book Description

Demons are out there.

Don’t ask Janie how she knows. She wants to forget what they did to her and move on.

But when her witch friend has a premonition about a demon in Boston, Janie is forced to confront her fears. She seeks the help of her gorgeous friend and gargoyle shifter, Arto.

Little does she know that Arto considers her his fated mate. He’ll do anything to protect her, even if it means keeping his love a secret.

Janie wants to learn more about demons, so he shows her some books in the library. She reads an ancient script in a powerful old book and unwittingly summons an incubus.

The very tool Arto provided to help her instead brings her nightmares to life.

Now they must work together to stop a predator on the hunt while their relationship is tested by a growing attraction.

Demons have captured Janie before. Can she avoid their clutches this time?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/122494858-protected-by-the-gargoyle?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=m4cLCq4W0z&rank=1

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My Book Review

RATING: 4 out of 5 Stars

PROTECTED BY THE GARGOYLE (Boston Stone Sentries Book $4) by Lisa Carlisle is another exciting trip into the paranormal romance world of gargoyles, witches and demons set in present-day Boston. Even though we met Janie and Arto in previous stories, this is their HEA romance story. While people and paranormal creatures in the series are explained so that this book can be read as a standalone, I feel you would enjoy it more if you read the entire series in order.

Janie is still working to heal her leg injuries from the Boston Marathon bombing and working to restore her sense of safety after being abducted and marked by a demon. Her best friend, Larissa has a premonition about a demon loose in Boston and Janie is terrified. She reaches out to her gargoyle friend, Arto to assist her in protecting herself.

Arto is more than willing to help Janie because he believes she is his fated mate. As they go through old magical tomes, Janie accidentally summons a demon. Now a demon is in Boston trying to abduct Janie once again. Janie and Arto work together to get rid of the demon and as they do their friendship ignites into much more.

Will Arto be able to protect Janie, banish the demon, and prove to her they are truly mates?

I enjoyed this addition to the Boston Stone Sentries series. I have been waiting for Janie and Arto’s romance and this story did not disappoint. There is plenty of sexual frustration and amusing internal dialogue on both sides as they move from the friend zone into a relationship. It is fun for me when I return to a paranormal world and the characters are evolving and growing. Besides the steamy romance, this story also has action and suspense woven throughout. All the books in this series are entertaining and fast paranormal reads with captivating characters.

I recommend this addition to the Boston Stone Sentries series.

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About the Author

Lisa Carlisle is a USA Today Bestselling author of paranormal romance and suspense. She loves to write about wounded, cursed, or misunderstood heroes finding their happily ever afters. They may be shifters, vampires, witches, gargoyles, or even military, first responders, and rockstars! She especially loves stories with fated mates and forbidden love, second chances, and enemies-to-lovers romance.

Her travels have provided her with inspiration for various settings in her novels. She deployed to Okinawa, Japan, while in the Marines, backpacked alone through Europe, lived in Paris, and now lives in New England with her husband, two kids, two crazy cats, and too many fish.

Become a VIP reader and receive free bonus reads! >> http://www.lisacarlislebooks.com/subscribe/

Social Media Links

Website: https://lisacarlislebooks.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lisacarlisleauthor

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lisa-carlisle

Feature Post and Book Review: Casanova Cowboy by Jamie Schulz

Book Description

She’s used to the glitzy, big-city life. He hides behind country-boy charm.
Will these total opposites spark unquenchable flames of attraction?

Izabel Silva is wary of men. After escaping an awful relationship and a workplace betrayal, the talented marketer seeks refuge with an old friend in small-town Montana. And though worried she’s falling in with another control-obsessed hunk, she accepts the kindly neighbors’ invitation to stay with them and their flirtatious son.

Zack MacEntier longs to live down his reputation. With his ranch’s bank accounts at rock bottom, the one-time lady’s man isn’t ready to take on a gorgeous and strong-willed Latina. But when his mother volunteers him to show the lovely newcomer around, the loyal cowboy is secretly glad of an excuse to spend more days in the fierce woman’s company.

Taken aback by local prejudice, Izabel’s concerns over Zack’s stubborn protective streak start to fade when he comes rushing to her rescue. And even as the brave rancher fears that he has nothing to offer the beautiful outsider, their growing passion has placed them firmly in danger’s crosshairs…

Can they survive the unexpected threat and claim a scorching love?

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123240228-casanova-cowboy?ref=nav_sb_ss_3_15#CommunityReviews

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My Book Review

RATING: 5 out of 5 Stars

CASANOVA COWBOY (The Montana Men Series Book #2) by Jamie Schulz is a delightful contemporary western romance with a hero and heroine who have been scarred by love in their pasts and even as they work to heal, trust and love again, they are in danger from an unknown threat. This is the second book in the Montana Men series following “Broken Cowboy”, but it can easily be read as a standalone.

Izabel Silva has left Seattle and is looking to reconnect with her old friend, Addie, and unknowingly appears on her wedding day. Izabel is escaping an emotionally abusive relationship and workplace betrayal. With Addie on her honeymoon, a friendly neighbor invites Izabel to stay with her and her family and volunteers her flirtatious son to show her the sights during her stay.

Zack MacEntier is drawn to the beautiful woman staying with his family, but he has plenty of problems with the start-up of the family vineyard and with his reputation as a Casanova, which he wants to change before he feels he has anything to offer a woman. Zack and Izabel take tentative steps to trust and friendship which soon turns into an intense chemistry that neither can resist, but someone is not happy with this new couple.

Small threats turn into gunfire and Zack and Izabel are in more danger than anyone expects.

I enjoyed this romance so much because it has a wonderful hero and heroine who grow throughout the love story and for the most part actually communicate and when they do not it is believable and not just an easy way to further the plot. Izabel starts out hesitant and then becomes a strong heroine who is trying new things and rebuilding her life in a completely new environment. Zack is lovable and seems carefree but tries to carry too much on his own and must learn to overcome his pride when his friends want to help. His secret from his past was heartbreaking. The sex scenes are explicit, but not gratuitous and realistic to an adult relationship. I enjoyed catching up with characters from the first book, but if you have not read it, you will not be confused or lost. The suspense elements of the plot are interwoven throughout the story seamlessly and all the separate threads are resolved.

I highly recommend this endearing contemporary romance and I am looking forward to many more in this series.

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About the Author

Jamie Schulz is a contemporary Western romance and dystopian cowboy romance author. She loves to write about heroes with vulnerabilities and strong, feisty heroines who are a match for the men they love. To her, every one of her stories, no matter how dark, must have a happy ending, and she strives to make them impossible to put down until you get there.

Jamie has been writing and making up stories for most of her life and hopes to one day reach the bestsellers lists. Her book Broken Cowboy won the Global Book Awards Gold Medal for romance and was a RONE Awards finalist. Jake’s Redemption—a full-length prequel to the dark, dystopian world of the Angel Eyes series—was also an award-winner in the Global Ebook Awards.

Cowboys, ice cream, and reading almost any kind of romance are among her (not so) secret loves. She balances her free time between reading her favorite romance authors—in genres ranging from erotica and dark romance to sweet historicals and contemporary romance—and spending time with those she is closest to. She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her family and their fur babies, and she enjoys hearing from her fans.

Social Media Links

* Website: thejamieschulz.com/

* Facebook: www.facebook.com/thejamieschulz

* Twitter: twitter.com/TheJamieSchulz

* Instagram: instagram.com/thejamieschulz/

* BookBub: www.bookbub.com/authors/jamie-schulz