Category Archives: Book Spotlight

Book Excerpt

It itched from time to time, especially when exposed to air like when he changed his clothes or took a shower. He rubbed it gently, almost afraid to put a nail to it and actually scratch. Truthfully it had been several days after the surgery before he had been able to bring himself to touch it at all. Somehow it wasn’t quite so real if he didn’t touch it. Besides, seeing it was bad enough. To him, it was grotesque.

He kept it hidden, even from Sarah. She’d objected, of course. At first she had objected a great deal. He knew it was just her curiosity that kept her constantly badgering him to let her see it, but he still couldn’t do it. He was afraid. It wasn’t rational, he knew; but he was afraid just the same. Would she look at him differently? No. Of course she wouldn’t. Deep down, he knew that. But when you’re a man staring at old age with a scar from a Lon Chaney movie running down the center of your chest, you wonder about things.

You wonder a lot.

So he’d kept it hidden. He let the Doctors see it when they needed to examine him. A few nurses had seen it when they’d insisted on giving him a sponge bath. Other than that, no one had peeked beneath his bandage. Not even his wife. When he got home he changed clothes in the bathroom behind a locked door, and he took to sleeping in a nightshirt. It had taken a little getting used to. He’d slept in the raw most of his life and the nightshirt was a little binding at times, but he got used to it.
You get used to a lot of things, when you have to.

He was still caressing the scar as his thoughts drifted away from him, when he saw something in the mirror. He caught just a glimpse of it. It was just a shimmer, really…sort of like a shift in focus, and only for an instant. But in that instant, he saw something that left him standing rigid and bathed in ice cold sweat. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like…

No. It was impossible. He was just tired, that’s all. It had been a long and exasperating day, and he was worn out. His mind was playing tricks on him. That’s all it was. It had to be. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Someone else was staring back at him through that mirror.

How To Purchase

Tommy can be purchased through our bookstore.

10% of ‘Tommy”s net proceeds from all sales, paperback and ebook, goes to the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund

About the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund

Since 2000, the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund has served United States military personnel wounded or injured in service to our nation, and their families by providing close to $150 million in support for the families of military personnel lost in service to our nation, and for severely wounded military personnel and veterans. These efforts are funded entirely with donations from the public, and hundreds of thousands of individuals have contributed to the Fund.

They have done this in the past through direct grants to spouses, dependent children, and parents of unmarried service members who were lost in the performance of their duties. From 2000 to 2005 they provided nearly $20 million in these grants. In 2005, federal legislation greatly increased benefits to these families and IFHF redirected their efforts to other benefits.

They have built, and continue to build, state-of-the –art medical and rehabilitation facilities for service members wounded in the line of duty, including:

The Center for the Intrepid: A $55 million world-class state-of-the-art physical rehabilitation center at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas. The Center serves military personnel and veterans who have been catastrophically disabled, or severely injured, in the normal performance of their duties. (Completed in 2007)

The National Intrepid Center of Excellence: A 72,000 square foot, two-story facility located on the Navy campus at Bethesda, Maryland, which provides the most advanced services for advanced diagnostics, initial treatment plan and family education, introduction to therapeutic modalities, referral and reintegration support for military personnel and veterans with Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and psychological health conditions. (Completed in 2010)

Intrepid Spirit: In 2013 the Fund launched a new campaign to extend the care provided at NICoE to more service members suffering TBI and psychological health conditions. The Fund will build up to nine “Intrepid Spirit” centers at major military bases around the country. These centers will act as satellites to the central NIcoE facility and will allow urgently-needed care to be brought to more troops and closer to home.

Again, one of the biggest reasons William Chadwick supports this charity is their outstanding management of funds. The Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund:

• Meets all 20 of the Better Business Bureau’s standards for Charity Accountability
• Holds an “A” rating from CharityWatch

To learn more about this amazing charity and the programs they offer our National Heroes, clink on the link above. The men and women that serve to protect our nation deserve our very best, and so do the families that support them!

About The Author

William S. Chadwick is the author of two novels; The Rabbitry, and Rain. He grew up in northern Arkansas, steeped in the salty-sweet brine of dark Ozark folklore combined with Bible Belt Christian doctrine. He now lives in the Hot Springs area with his wife (Rose), their dog (Bella), cat (Ken), and a small green lizard that has taken up residence in their home who they have not named yet, but they would accept suggestions.
He and Rose are both former service members with the U.S. Army and National Guard/Reserves, and are strong supporters of our nation’s military and veterans.

Book Excerpt

“Have you ever thought about ditching the whole high-profile divorce thing? Maybe setting up with a partner or smaller firm somewhere?” Cisco sounded nonchalant, but his body had gone still and he’d suddenly become fascinated with lining up his flatware, side-by-side.

“Getting out from under Bruce’s thumb? Oh, yeah. Some days I think about it a lot.”

“So you wouldn’t mind relocating or being offered a position in a smaller firm?”

“Not if it’s profitable and expanding. I can’t see myself working sixty-hour plus work weeks forever. At some point, I’d like to find someone normal I could share my life with.”

“You see yourself married with kids?”

“It’s more like I see myself in a committed relationship. Kids? Maybe. If I felt comfortable that the dad would co-parent.” How did they get off on this subject and why? “Do you know something I don’t? If I’m in trouble at the firm —”

“No. No. Nothing like that. I’m just throwing out a hypothetical. Asking about your dreams.”

“But there is something,” Julia insisted. “You said ‘nothing like that,’ which means there’s something —”

“Julia, no.” He sighed, braced a thumb against his temple and worried four fingers across his forehead. She’s seen him do that dozens of times when under stress. The action didn’t inspire her to relax. “You deserve reciprocal trust here, so … I’m asking these things because I’ve been thinking about making a move. My whole reason for coming to Denver was to have a relationship with my brother, but Bruce isn’t interested.”

“Seriously? The senior partners like you. I figured you for a shoe-in.”

“And you know why? I’m starting to go for the jugular. Just. Like. Them.” He poked the table with a stiff index finger after each word, his upper lip curled. “Kid stuck in the middle needs an education fund, but good ol’ dad is pissed because he got caught with his pants down, so we’ve got to screw the injured party out of that money. Never mind the kid.”

Call her surprised. She was familiar with the case he referred to. Cisco was so even-tempered, so courteous and professional to all the clients. Even that one. She would never have guessed he’d hated the outcome. It had bothered her some that he hadn’t seemed affected, worried her that he could be more like Bruce than she’d thought.

He’d straightened in his chair, and now stared out the window, his jaw working as he struggled to pull his emotions in check. That he had such fierce passion in him excited her. She thought of other applications for that passion and sucked in an excited, audible breath.

He turned wide, questioning eyes in her direction. “Julia?”

She reached into the beach tote for her wallet, counted out a few bills and threw them on the table. “I like it when you’re all fired up, Cisco. Think you can duplicate it upstairs?”

It took him a heartbeat and a blink to switch gears.

The Buzz

4-1/2 stars:
Julia and Cisco join up for a sizzling hot week of sex on the beaches of Hawaii, so they can figure out if the intense feelings between them are real, and then they’ll try and circumvent the no frat rules.

Sunset Beach Sizzle is a nice read for a rainy afternoon or a snowy night. — Alberta, Manic Readers

How To Purchase:

Sunset Beach Sizzle, book one in the Tropical Heat series is available through our bookstore.

About The Author:

Carol Burnside is an award-winning author of the Sweetwater Springs series and writes “sizzling romance with heart and humor.” Her personal second-chance-at-love story resulted in a marriage to her high school sweetheart of thirty-plus years. That experience cemented her belief in a deep and lasting love, and serves as inspiration for every romance she writes while the ever present glass of sweet southern tea keeps her energized through long hours at the computer.

Also published in short stories, Carol’s novel length manuscripts have placed in numerous contests and won several, including the prestigious Maggie Award for Excellence. Her Sweetwater Springs series is contemporary sensual romance and is set in a fictitious small Arkansas town. Writing as Annie Rayburn, she produces alternate reality erotic romances with soft sci-fi and lite paranormal elements. Talk about crossing genres!

Enjoy excerpts, review snippits, and more about her sexy Crainesian characters on her website or connect with her on www.PetitFoursAndHotTamales.com.

Book Excerpt

Daisy’s indoctrination into the race struggle started early. Her adopted parents Ora Lee and Susie Smith were the only parents she knew. Her father, she has said, was a secret race man – a clandestine member of the NAACP at a time when it was dangerous to belong to such an organization in the South.

He shared with his young foster daughter the hopes and dreams the organization allowed him. And when she asked why he would take such a risk, he told her theirs, and other black families’ futures, depended on the organization’s success. On his frequent, surreptitious travels to meetings, he brought back NAACP literature to share with his wife, Susie, and their young daughter.

To her own surprise, Daisy would inherit elements of both her foster father, and mother, and she was the better for it. Possibly, it was her father’s courage that Daisy claimed. The pretty and dainty child would one day embrace, and invigorate the very NAACP that her father had introduced her to years earlier. She was both a fierce leader and a loyal follower within the organization’s local and national ranks. She would also exhibit the very attributes she fought against in her foster mother, Susie Smith. Daisy’s work ethic, her no-nonsense way of getting things done; her strict sense of right and wrong, and her tunnel vision when she believed in a cause – was much like the unbending, but caring Susie Smith.

As a young woman, Daisy enjoyed the benefits that her beauty and charm awarded her, including the courtship, and final marriage to the tall, handsome L.C. Bates. As she matured, and perhaps in response to the wise tutelage of her more worldly husband, Daisy began to mine her innate strengths, her intellect and forcefulness.

Some believe her evolution from sultry beauty to beautiful leader took place virtually overnight. Some believe it came about too quickly, that it overshadowed L.C., her soul mate, and loyal partner. Those who knew them best are certain that Daisy and L.C.’s mission was one and the same.

Daisy Lee Bates stretched the realms of her times – eschewing that box that would have her act, think, or react in specific ways. She disavowed others’ preconceived notions of who she was or what she should be, based on her race, her gender or the environment where she happened to find herself.

None who knew this fully emerged butterfly would be surprised to learn that Daisy was the first, and only woman president of a state NAACP at the age of 35, or that the daring young woman would be the only woman in a college-sponsored piloting class, up to the point of gaining eligibility for a pilot’s certificate. She was the fifth recipient in history to receive the Margaret Chase Smith Award; the first woman to address the Massachusetts State Senate, and the only woman to address the historical March on Washington, led by the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.

How To Purchase:

Daisy: Between a Rock and a Hard Place can be purchased through our bookstore.

About the Author:

Few would believe Janis F. Kearney’s childhood as a cotton sharecropper’s daughter would prepare her for such an amazing life journey – her treasured role as protégée of renowned civil rights leader Daisy Lee Gatson Bates, and her years as personal diarist to President William J. Clinton. In fact, the grounding her parents supplied her with; the love of her 18 siblings, and the encouragement to dream, all contributed to her lifelong belief that `What we see as impossible is no more than God taunting us to take up the challenge and create something out of nothing.’

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Book Excerpt

“Travis!”

Holy smokes. Purple hair.

Seeing Claire again struck him like a hard fist in his gut. Her head was all he could see protruding from a narrow doorway into a short hall. Her short hair defied gravity, sticking out every which way. Except for the often-altered hair color, she hadn’t changed one glorious iota.

“LouAnne had to step out.” Claire still mimicked a curious turtle.

He glanced at the rapt gazes. Oh, man. Face time with her was guaranteed to be awkward, but he’d be damned if he’d entertain an audience. “Could I speak to you a moment? In private.”

Two heads swiveled between them, eavesdropping, and he cursed silently. The story would be all over town tomorrow, curiously picked at by the Busy Biddies Brigade like hens over a mound of feed. Lord only knew what spin they’d put on it.

“Uh . . . sure. Come on back.”

“Ladies.” He acknowledged the customers as befitted his Southern upbringing and joined Claire in the small room, not much bigger than a closet.

She shut the door.

Immediately, the miniscule place grew warmer. He feigned indifference to her nearness by checking out the tiny area. Shallow shelving lined one wall, overflowing with bottles and tubes. The opposite wall held a small counter and cabinets, a double sink and more shelves.

“What are you doing here, Travis? I thought we agreed not to see each other again.” She whispered through lips tight with tension.

He counted to ten. They hadn’t agreed on anything. She’d ended things without giving him a real chance. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here to work up an estimate on remodeling the shop.”

“I thought you were a big shot. Why not send a flunky?” she muttered. Turning to the small counter, she stirred white liquid into a small bowl of powder. A noxious odor assailed his nostrils.

“Augh! That’s nasty.” He stepped away from the goopy concoction turning reddish-brown, and backed into overstocked shelves. Beauty products rained all around him.

Grabbing wildly, he grazed Claire’s thigh while catching a bottle. He offered it to her, trying to ignore memories of the last time they’d been this close. And alone.

Eight months ago. The night of their first and only date.

He remembered it quite well. Claire had worn a soft, two-piece dress with a flirty lace skirt that fell into points, allowing him tantalizing glimpses of surprisingly shapely legs, considering her slender figure. Today’s outfit, a black and white geometric-patterned mini dress with fishnet stockings, was far from that. And her hair had been a soft pink.

All the signals she’d exuded indicated she was amenable to the idea of taking their date to a more intimate level. To this day he couldn’t say what made him step away from her kisses to suggest more dates the next week, but she’d been furious. Acted like he’d insulted her.

The woman was a nut job. Since when was getting to know your date better a crime?

The Buzz

“I laughed at the humor, cried with the heartbreaking parts and sympathized with their plight as they tried to find their lasting love. Well written characters meshed with a well developed plot for true reading pleasure. Real page turner. I look forward happily to the next book in the series.” – Shirley Buchanan, Romance Book Haven  5/5 star review

“I recommend this read for readers that don’t mind pulling out the tissues and looking like a fool when crying over a book and if you don’t mind laughing out load in the middle of nowhere whilst reading.” — Desere 4/5 stars 

“Ms Burnside’s books are always fun, always carefully crafted to maintain the readers interest and keep the pages turning.” – S.Weeks, 5/5 star review, Amazon

“Be prepared to have tissues at hand. This is one roller-coaster of an emotional story. It is tender, heart-warming and at times heart-breaking. But I loved it.” – Laura 5/5 stars

How To Purchase:

Her Unexpected Family Book 2 in the Sweetwater Springs series is available through our bookstore.

About The Author:

Carol Burnside is an award-winning author of the Sweetwater Springs series of contemporary romance with serious sizzle. Her personal second-chance-at-love story resulted in a marriage to her high school sweetheart of thirty-plus years. Also published in short stories, Carol’s novel length manuscripts have placed in numerous contests and won five, including the prestigious Maggie Award for Excellence.

Writing as Annie Rayburn, she produces soft sci-fi and lite paranormal erotic romances which have been favorably received. Talk about cross-genre! Enjoy excerpts, review snippits, and more about her sexy Crainesian characters on her website  or connect with her on www.PetitFoursAndHotTamales.com.

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Awards

Crème de la Crème, Oklahoma Writers Federation Conference

Book Excerpt

“Put your arms around me. There aren’t any handles to hold on to. All you gotta do is hug up tight and don’t look.”
Terrified speechless, she followed his directions. Even his solid, leather-vested back under her cheek didn’t quell the mind-numbing fear.
“Maybe you could tie me on, so when I pass out I won’t fall off.”
With his laughter rumbling in her ears, she hunched against him and waited for the worst to happen. But he rolled the bike slowly, gentled it over the rough terrain. It purred under her backsides like a great cat.
So far, so good. She’d almost let out her breath when he goosed the thing and it leaped forward.
About the time she felt sure she could make no sound at all, a squeal burst from her mouth. Grasshoppers, flying beetles, tree limbs, clumps of weeds, even butterflies rushed past, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Wind ripped at her clothing, making sharp snapping sounds, fingered through her hair and tore it from the clip, batted at her face until her flesh tingled.
A heady rush of exhilaration sponged away the fear. She tasted an unknown sensation, a metallic flavor akin to sheer terror but laced with a bright tartness, an expectation of something astonishing about to grab her up and race off.
“How do you like it?” The question vibrated through his back into her ear.
If she could’ve spoken she would have told him it was terrifying and wonderful. If she could’ve opened her eyes she would have done so, sure it would add to the rush. If she could’ve made a sound, it would have been a tremendous whoop. Eyes closed, mouth closed, arms hammer-locked around him, she rode with the wind to a place she had never been.
Hurtling along while totally blind, swaying back and forth, up and down, soon upset her equilibrium. Fed a desire to see her own death coming. Snapping her eyes open wide, she beheld scrub oak and saplings, clumps of grass and huge boulders, the narrow path on which they rode, rushing toward them, sucked in and spat out behind the monster bike.
Breathless, she uttered, “Oh, my goodness,” like a child. Closed her eyes. Which was best, or worst? She couldn’t say. Open they came.
Up ahead, a thicket of huge trees loomed, and she locked her arms so tightly around him he grunted.
“Oh, no. Oh, don’t. Oh, slow down.” Eyes shut, toes curled, butt clutching the seat, every organ in her body screaming, she ducked her head. Changed her mind about viewing her own death.
From down deep inside him, laughter roiled. He braked the bike into a slide.
“Here it comes. Don’t put out your feet. Don’t.” She repeated the litany, knew that if she could have moved at all she’d have stuck both feet out to catch the bike as it rolled over.
The skidding machine roared and backfired, sprayed dust and debris that pecked at her face. She held her breath until she absolutely couldn’t do so any longer. As she dragged in a great mouthful of grit, the bike stopped moving, its engine throbbing as if anxious to break free of the reins, continue its race toward infinity.

The Buzz

Seldom do I find a book these days that I hate to see end. Once There Were Sad Songs was one of those infrequent finds. The story was so much fun at times, so heartrending and beautiful at others. You just kept reading and hoping these two would work out the issues keeping them apart, and enjoying the story as you went. So very glad I found this book. ~ 5 -Star review by T M Simmons, Amazon

This was a novel that kept me engrossed and engaged throughout. The author’s handling of a former Vietnam soldier is well done, especially when set in a period when PTSD wasn’t diagnosed or named as an issue. ~ 5 -Star review by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy, Amazon

How To Purchase:

Once There Were Sad Songs is available through our bookstore.

About The Author:

Velda enjoys writing hot love scenes in her romantic books that range from western historical romance to contemporary and vintage love stories and a new mystery series. She portrays tough women who know what they want and go after it with tenacity and courage. As for her hot heroes, they can stand up to anything. Her work is sexy, dark and gritty. Writing has been her passion for nearly thirty years, and she admits she almost has this business figured out. When not at the keyboard she likes to blend with her family of four generations, read, and watch movies.

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Book Excerpt

Sam 101
“Sam, wake up.”
I know I heard it, but man I didn’t really want to wake up. I squeezed myself into a tighter ball becoming more aware of the cold concrete floor where I didn’t want to be. I wanted to roll over, and this all be a bad dream. I wanted to burrow under my favorite blanket and hide from the world. Hide from what I knew I was about to face… again.
“Come on Sam, Vicki will be coming in that door any minute. You know she’s not going to be happy to see you here again.” Thank God it was Beth who found me this time, I thought, as I rubbed my face with both hands trying to wake up. Stretching, I couldn’t tell how long I’d been here this time. If hours, then how many? I remember sitting on my couch last night watching a late movie, and then nothing. I sat up leaning against the display counter that held all the food items the store carried, and then rubbed my face some more.
“Did you just get here?” I asked stifling a yawn.
“No, we’ve been here about twenty minutes,” Beth’s voice came more distant this time. I could tell without looking she was at the drive through window with her back to me.
“And you just left me here?” I raised my head feeling the stiffness in my neck now.
“Listen we both know you’ve not been sleeping good, so I told Dale we’d let you sleep a little longer. Vicki’s on early shift this morning, too, so you’ll want to get up before she comes through the door.”
Trust Beth to be looking out for me, I thought, shaking my head to myself. I dropped my head again with my arms wrapped around my knees. I figured I could at least take a peek at what clothes I was wearing this time. When I caught a glimpse of denim, I let out a sigh. Oh my lucky stars. At least I was dressed.
That has been one of my bigger fears since I started waking up in odd locations. The most embarrassing one to date was waking up in the student lounge on campus in my pajamas, compounded by the fact that I then had to walk home. Luckily it had been early enough that traffic was light, and only the early commuters were entertained by my walking the streets ready for bed. Since that happened I tried to at least be aware of what I was wearing before I fell asleep. The only downfall today was I didn’t have on my shoes. I was mentally giving myself a forehead slap when the bell to the front door dinged. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Beth stiffen, but she continued with what she was doing.
“Good morning, Vicki,” she and Dale called at the same time.
Dale was coming out of the store room and stepped wide around me on the floor. His movement drew Vicki’s attention straight to where I sat.
“What’s on the floor Dale?” she asked.
I could hear her footsteps coming in our direction.
“Oh, not much,” he replied.
You could always count on him to downplay any major activity. He could calm down the most irate customers, thus Vicki always wanted him working the morning shifts.
Commuter traffic in the City of Colleges was always heaviest from 6 a.m. until 10 a.m.
Starbucks had multiple locations strategically located near the on ramps for the interstate. Our
location, on Highway 65 North, was probably the busiest.
I sat there dreading Vicki walking around the counter, and I know I tensed my shoulders
thinking I should go ahead and get this over with. “Good morning, Vicki,” I said with my head
still hanging.
“Sam? Are you here again?” she asked, and her tone was light.
Huh?
“Yes ma’am. I guess I am,” I replied.
She came into view then with both hands on her hips. That’s all I could see, not wanting
to look up and meet her eyes.
“Well, come on. I’ll take you home,” she said.
Glancing up I found she was checking the time on her watch.
“Beth, do you think you can handle opening until I get back? I’ll take Sam home and be
right back.”
“Sure. Dale and I have it all under control,” Beth said, coming to stand by Vicki.
Dale joined the duo and leaned down to offer me a hand up. I took it along with a deep
breath. I knew this was too good to be true. She was too calm.
Vicki didn’t say anything until she put the car into park in front of my apartment. “Sam, I
don’t know what’s going on, but we can’t let this keep happening. This is the third time this
week we’ve found you asleep in the store,” her voice was stern but concerned.

The Buzz

Ms. Gordon has successfully combined the reality with fantasy by showing the power of sisters when they put their minds together to defeat the dangers of their world. Excellent read. !~5-Star Review by BDI, Amazon

A well-crafted story that takes you on an unforgettable paranormal adventure as you follow Sam and Emily’s road to self-discovery into a new realm of existence. A journey filled with mystery, adventure, and humor.

Roberta J. Gordon’s gift for writing is demonstrated as she works her magic in this enthralling tale. Her original approach to the paranormal world pulls you in and grabs your attention from beginning to end. You won’t be able to put it down once you start reading.

The characters are engaging and the story is captivating, filled with twists and turns that will keep you guessing. A must read for anyone who loves the paranormal. I anxiously await the continuation of this series. ~ 5-Star Review by J Shay, Amazon


How To Purchase:

Gemini Witching: Elements 101 is available through our bookstore .


About the Author:
Arkansas native and Arkansas Tech University Graduate, Roberta J Gordon is the author of Gemini Witching: Elements 101. She is the mother of three and an office manager in Central Arkansas who enjoys paranormal more than most but can’t get away from HEA’s (Happily Ever After’s). Roberta is currently working on the second installment for Gemini Witching…. Elements 202, and awaiting the 2014 Romance Novel Convention this summer. At the 2014 RNC she will be one of the judges for InD’Tale Magazine’s RONE Awards for Independent and Small Published authors.. When not reading and writing Roberta enjoys hanging out with family and friends.

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