NetGalley
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Showcasing Echelon Press Authors - Chris Redding
A View to a Kilt
When a wise-cracking interior decorator wants to put her past behind her, the dead body of the mayor’s son makes her realize that won’t happen too easily. A conservative former computer geek for the FBI is holding on too tightly to his past. His wife died under suspicious circumstances and he believes the decorator has the information to solve the case.
Omnilit: http://tinyurl.com/cr-vtak-omni
Smashwords: http://tinyurl.com/cr-vtak-Smash
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/44sbydm
Nook Store: http://tinyurl.com/3tlk2nh
About The Author
Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her husband, two kids, one dog and three rabbits. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in journalism. She teaches workshops on writing online and offline. When she isn’t writing, she works part time for her local hospital.
When a wise-cracking interior decorator wants to put her past behind her, the dead body of the mayor’s son makes her realize that won’t happen too easily. A conservative former computer geek for the FBI is holding on too tightly to his past. His wife died under suspicious circumstances and he believes the decorator has the information to solve the case.
Omnilit: http://tinyurl.com/cr-vtak-omni
Smashwords: http://tinyurl.com/cr-vtak-Smash
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/44sbydm
Nook Store: http://tinyurl.com/3tlk2nh
About The Author
Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her husband, two kids, one dog and three rabbits. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in journalism. She teaches workshops on writing online and offline. When she isn’t writing, she works part time for her local hospital.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Yvonne Walus is on Crime Watch
Here, on Crime Watch, is what charming Craig kindly wrote about my radio interview and our Murder In The Library evening.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
THE RELUCTANT MATCHMAKER
Below you will find an excellent excerpt from THE RELUCTANT MATCHMAKER by Shobhan Bantwal (whom we already had the pleasure of hosting on this blog). Happy reading!
I was hauled against him in one quick move, taking the breath right out of my lungs.
God, this was good—better than anything I’d ever felt in my whole life.
Although his hold on me felt like a vice grip, I liked it, basked in it. His next kiss was harder, more demanding, that of a hungry male rather than a tender admirer. And all the while my mind sang: He wants me. He wants me.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hands rested on his shoulders, savoring the tautness of the muscle and the soft feel of his shirt for a moment, and then my arms slid around his neck, clamping his mouth to mine. I never wanted to let go. This was a minor miracle. I’d come here to help him locate a woman who’d make him a suitable wife, and instead I was clasped in his arms, his mouth making scalding, passionate love to mine.
Even in my wildest dreams I hadn’t thought it would be this wonderful. His cologne was rousing, his hair ticklish on my fingers, and his chest was hard as a rock against my pliant breasts. This felt so damn right.
Just when I thought this was heaven on earth, he abruptly loosened his hold on me, a puzzled look coming over his face once more. But this time the bafflement was not mixed with wonder and awe. It was more like an unpleasant shock.
I had done it—exactly what I didn’t want to do—I’d repulsed him. Why the heck hadn’t I behaved like a nice Hindu girl and held myself in check?
He took me by the shoulders and set me away from him. “I’m so sorry. I—I don’t know what came over me.”
(Excerpt from The Reluctant Matchmaker by Shobhan Bantwal)
For more information: about The Reluctant Matchmaker and Shobhan Bantwal’s other books, visit http://www.shobhanbantwal.com or http://www.amazon.com/The-Reluctant-Matchmaker-Shobhan-Bantwal/dp/0758258852. The full virtual tour schedule is available at: http://bookpromotionservices.com/2012/06/03/reluctant-matchmaker-tour
I was hauled against him in one quick move, taking the breath right out of my lungs.
God, this was good—better than anything I’d ever felt in my whole life.
Although his hold on me felt like a vice grip, I liked it, basked in it. His next kiss was harder, more demanding, that of a hungry male rather than a tender admirer. And all the while my mind sang: He wants me. He wants me.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hands rested on his shoulders, savoring the tautness of the muscle and the soft feel of his shirt for a moment, and then my arms slid around his neck, clamping his mouth to mine. I never wanted to let go. This was a minor miracle. I’d come here to help him locate a woman who’d make him a suitable wife, and instead I was clasped in his arms, his mouth making scalding, passionate love to mine.
Even in my wildest dreams I hadn’t thought it would be this wonderful. His cologne was rousing, his hair ticklish on my fingers, and his chest was hard as a rock against my pliant breasts. This felt so damn right.
Just when I thought this was heaven on earth, he abruptly loosened his hold on me, a puzzled look coming over his face once more. But this time the bafflement was not mixed with wonder and awe. It was more like an unpleasant shock.
I had done it—exactly what I didn’t want to do—I’d repulsed him. Why the heck hadn’t I behaved like a nice Hindu girl and held myself in check?
He took me by the shoulders and set me away from him. “I’m so sorry. I—I don’t know what came over me.”
(Excerpt from The Reluctant Matchmaker by Shobhan Bantwal)
For more information: about The Reluctant Matchmaker and Shobhan Bantwal’s other books, visit http://www.shobhanbantwal.com or http://www.amazon.com/The-Reluctant-Matchmaker-Shobhan-Bantwal/dp/0758258852. The full virtual tour schedule is available at: http://bookpromotionservices.com/2012/06/03/reluctant-matchmaker-tour
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
The Siren of Paris
The Siren of Paris - the title alone is intriguing enough to make me want to read the book. And the story behind the book is no less compelling....
David Leroy did extensive research on the German occupation of France for his debut novel The Siren of Paris. This historical novel follows the journey of one American from medical student, to artist, to political prisoner at Buchenwald Concentration Camp during World War Two.
Read the excerpt below:
On the side of the ship, Marc could see a group of lifeboats that had made it free. Around the ship, he saw bobbing heads of men, and sometimes women, in the sea. “Who would lash a life vest on a dead man?” Marc pondered. In the distance, Marc saw the cruiser that earlier had been ferrying troops as it approached the now-overturned Lancastria. But, just then, another plane dived down upon the swimmers and fired into the sea. The plane dropped some kind of bomb on the struggling soldiers. Marc looked down the plates of the hull, toward a large crack. Through the gaping hole, oil spilled from the ship. He scanned how far the oil slick extended over the sea, and then saw that some of this oil had caught on fire. Marc watched as one man swam through the oil, trying to get out of it, as his hair caught fire. He screamed before disappearing into the black sea.
“Hand … hand…” he heard to his right. Marc looked and no one was there. “Down here,” he heard. He looked and there was a man in porthole calling for his hand. He helped him up and out.
Another man was behind the first. “Hurry!” he said. “Hurry!” The man he’d just helped from the porthole yelled down inside the ship, as he tried to help his buddy escape. Marc saw the water now rising up from the ship’s submerged bow. He started to walk backwards along the side of the plates and then turned toward the aft. The propellers jetted out of the sea. Marc could see men climbing over the railings near the aft section, and up on the now-jutting propeller shaft.
“Do you want to live?” a British officer asked Marc. He snapped out of what felt like a heavy state of sleep.
“Yes,” Marc pulled the words out of himself.
“Then strip out of those clothes. They are just going to pull you down,” the officer barked to him, and pointed to others just behind Marc. Marc felt like the words had passed through him, as he struggled to focus amidst the panic. All along the side of the ship, men busted through portholes and called help to climb out. When the water reached the open portholes, Marc heard the shouts and screams of men inside the ship. Marc took off his boots, shirt and trousers. The officer in front of him now stood fully naked. Others were stripping down, some naked, and some just no trousers on. Other men appeared like they expected to walk off the ship and across the ocean on some magical bridge. They were in full dress, and with heavy kitbags on their backs. Somehow they seemed unable to save their own lives; the idea of letting go of equipment was grounds for court martial. The ocean continued to climb the side of the ship. The cruiser had moved away a bit from the scene to avoid the planes diving from above. Marc slipped out of his underwear and got done folding his clothing. He stacked it neatly on the side of the ship, as if he were just going for a swim and was going to come back later to dress for dinner. “Are you ready?” the officer called over the yelling to Marc.
“For what?” Marc thought the words first and then had to force himself to say them.
“To jump into the sea. We need to get away from the ship so it does not pull us down,” the officer yelled. Just then, across the sea of broken bodies, lifeboats, and shouting men, coming from within busted-out portholes came a chorus of rowdy British men singing out “Roll out the Barrel.” They perched themselves along the protruding starboard side propeller shaft. The voices seemed to be disconnected from the scene. Marc looked out upon a dark sea of oil mixed with swimmers, bodies, smoke, and broken lifeboats.
You can purchase The Siren of Paris in Kindle e-book format from Amazon -- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0088CA098 and learn more about this author and novel at http://www.thesirenofparis.com/.
For more information about this virtual book tour, please visit http://bookpromotionservices.com/2012/05/22/siren-of-paris-tour/
David Leroy did extensive research on the German occupation of France for his debut novel The Siren of Paris. This historical novel follows the journey of one American from medical student, to artist, to political prisoner at Buchenwald Concentration Camp during World War Two.
Read the excerpt below:
On the side of the ship, Marc could see a group of lifeboats that had made it free. Around the ship, he saw bobbing heads of men, and sometimes women, in the sea. “Who would lash a life vest on a dead man?” Marc pondered. In the distance, Marc saw the cruiser that earlier had been ferrying troops as it approached the now-overturned Lancastria. But, just then, another plane dived down upon the swimmers and fired into the sea. The plane dropped some kind of bomb on the struggling soldiers. Marc looked down the plates of the hull, toward a large crack. Through the gaping hole, oil spilled from the ship. He scanned how far the oil slick extended over the sea, and then saw that some of this oil had caught on fire. Marc watched as one man swam through the oil, trying to get out of it, as his hair caught fire. He screamed before disappearing into the black sea.
“Hand … hand…” he heard to his right. Marc looked and no one was there. “Down here,” he heard. He looked and there was a man in porthole calling for his hand. He helped him up and out.
Another man was behind the first. “Hurry!” he said. “Hurry!” The man he’d just helped from the porthole yelled down inside the ship, as he tried to help his buddy escape. Marc saw the water now rising up from the ship’s submerged bow. He started to walk backwards along the side of the plates and then turned toward the aft. The propellers jetted out of the sea. Marc could see men climbing over the railings near the aft section, and up on the now-jutting propeller shaft.
“Do you want to live?” a British officer asked Marc. He snapped out of what felt like a heavy state of sleep.
“Yes,” Marc pulled the words out of himself.
“Then strip out of those clothes. They are just going to pull you down,” the officer barked to him, and pointed to others just behind Marc. Marc felt like the words had passed through him, as he struggled to focus amidst the panic. All along the side of the ship, men busted through portholes and called help to climb out. When the water reached the open portholes, Marc heard the shouts and screams of men inside the ship. Marc took off his boots, shirt and trousers. The officer in front of him now stood fully naked. Others were stripping down, some naked, and some just no trousers on. Other men appeared like they expected to walk off the ship and across the ocean on some magical bridge. They were in full dress, and with heavy kitbags on their backs. Somehow they seemed unable to save their own lives; the idea of letting go of equipment was grounds for court martial. The ocean continued to climb the side of the ship. The cruiser had moved away a bit from the scene to avoid the planes diving from above. Marc slipped out of his underwear and got done folding his clothing. He stacked it neatly on the side of the ship, as if he were just going for a swim and was going to come back later to dress for dinner. “Are you ready?” the officer called over the yelling to Marc.
“For what?” Marc thought the words first and then had to force himself to say them.
“To jump into the sea. We need to get away from the ship so it does not pull us down,” the officer yelled. Just then, across the sea of broken bodies, lifeboats, and shouting men, coming from within busted-out portholes came a chorus of rowdy British men singing out “Roll out the Barrel.” They perched themselves along the protruding starboard side propeller shaft. The voices seemed to be disconnected from the scene. Marc looked out upon a dark sea of oil mixed with swimmers, bodies, smoke, and broken lifeboats.
You can purchase The Siren of Paris in Kindle e-book format from Amazon -- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0088CA098 and learn more about this author and novel at http://www.thesirenofparis.com/.
For more information about this virtual book tour, please visit http://bookpromotionservices.com/2012/05/22/siren-of-paris-tour/
Friday, June 22, 2012
Murder In The Library
We came, we spoke, we drew chalk body outlines on the library floor....
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| The body in the library. Crime scene examined by novelists Yvonne Walus, Zirk van den Berg, Bev Robitai |
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| Craig Sisterson (chair), and the three panelists: Bev Robitai, Zirk van den Berg, Yvonne Walus |
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