Silver Dagger Book Tours: Ebba’s Enchantment Book Tour & Giveaway – 7/13 to 8/13

 


Chef, Ebba Mignon, is also a witch, or so says her half-sisters 

and has 45 days to find her soulmate and acquire her powers.


Ebba’s Enchantment

The Witch DNA Trilogy Book 3

by Sonja Gunter

Genre: Fantasy Romance, Romantasy, Urban Fantasy 



Spices. Succulent Cuisine. Potioneer.

The clock is ticking.

Ebba Mignon, a naturally gifted chef and owner of The Mignon’s Place, never envisioned partaking in the witchery craft or having half-sisters, Opaline, and Narda. But here she was with only 45 days to find her soulmate/future husband and her witch talents to reveal themselves to her.

How was she expected to accomplish this burden in order to defeat Alyaaluladonati, the ancient one, from killing the three of them?

Neal James, writer for the Best Places to Eat in MN, schedules an interview with Ebba Mignon, in the small town of Onamia. He isn’t prepared for the deep affection he experiences for her or to admire her culinary art skills when they meet.

Believing in the supernatural takes Neal and Ebba on a journey that neither thought possible, transforming their passion into the right ingredients to last a lifetime.

 

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Ebba took the chance to glance at him. He had sunglasses on, which hid his eyes. Would they be blue? To go with his brown hair? Realizing he was waiting for a

reply, she sighed. “My booth is the one with all the people lined up in front of it. Over there to the right.” She pointed in the direction they were walking.

 “Wow. What are you serving?”

 “The same thing I’ve done for the last two years.Subs.”

 The man stopped suddenly. “Subs? That’s it?”

 “Yes. I have only two things on my menu. One is a chopped Italian sub. I bake bread in the shape of a fish and add chopped-up prosciutto, pepperoni, and salami, along with lettuce, onion, tomato, and provolone cheese. I have my own special Italian vinaigrette dressing that I add to it too. The second item is my bestseller, a dill pickle sub.”

 They continued walking toward her booth.

 “A dill pickle sub? Never heard of that or had one before. What is it?”

 “Glad you asked. I use sliced dill pickles that I order from a local Amish woman. The key is to use a small layer of mayonnaise on the pickles. This seals in any leftover juices from the pickle. Then I layer on turkey and prosciutto with cheddar cheese, a tomato, and a lettuce leaf.”

 “Ebba! Hurry up. We need those plates.”

 She waved to Narda, who was signaling to her. “Oh my. We better hurry. The line has gotten very long.” With hurried steps, she directed the man carrying the bin to the back of the booth.

 “It’s about time. Did you see all the people waiting?”

 Ebba looked at Narda. “Be glad we have plates. I almost dropped the bin. This man saved it—and me—from falling.”

 “Where do you want this?”

 She and Narda looked at the man in unison.

 “Oh, sorry. Just set it down there.” Narda pointed to an empty spot on the table. Once he set it down, she opened it and took out a stack of plates. “Thanks for saving my sis. I’ll take these up front and let Opaline know you’ve returned.”

 Ignoring Narda’s sarcastic reply, she turned to the man.

 “Thanks again—”

 “Neal, I’ve been looking for you. I see you’ve met Ms. Mignon. I was setting up the equipment before she left.”

 What the heck? This man, who helped her, was the one and only Mr. James? She’d literally run into him. He’d sent her pulse raging, and she’d had sexual thoughts about

him. His first name was Neal. Could he be the one? Her soulmate?

No, she didn’t have time for this. It was just a coincidence his name started with the letter N. “You’re . . . My goodness, you must think I’m the worst person ever.”

 “I don’t. I didn’t know you were the person I’d come here to meet. Let’s forget about why I’m here. How can Seth and I help you with the crowd of people waiting for food? What can we do?”

 “Do? You want to work?” She hesitated, her mind still reeling.

 “Yes, it looks like two more sets of hands would be helpful.”

 “If . . . you’re sure. I could use your help. First, you both have to wash your hands and put on the plastic gloves. The dill pickle subs are almost gone. And I need to make another batch of ingredients for the chopped subs.”

 “Yes, ma’am,” the two men said.

 Ebba smiled and watched them do the safety protocol procedures for serving food, as she did the same. Taking out the three meats, cheese, and tomatoes from the coolers, she placed them onto the cutting board. Her nerves at Mr. James’s arrival and his offering to help had her doubting herself. The pendant throbbed against her skin.

 “Ready to help. What can we do?”

 His deep, rich voice was sexier in person than on the phone.

 Stop! It was time to concentrate. She had customers to serve. “Okay. Once I have the chopped salad ready, I need you to fill the fish-shaped bread with three scoops. You can start by opening and laying out the bread on the flat pan. While you’re doing that, it will allow me time to whip up some of the dill subs after I finish with the chopped Italian mixture.”

 Within a few minutes, she had chopped the ingredients and added the vinaigrette. She slid the bowl over to the two men.

 “Ebba, we need more subs,” Opaline said.

 Looking up, she saw her sister standing in front of her.

 When had she come over? “Mr. James and his cameraman are just finishing with the next tray of them.”

 “Mr. James?”

 She gave Opaline a look that said, ‘Don’t ask questions.’ “Yes. I ran into him, and he was kind enough to help. I’m working on the dill subs, and then I’ll do up another batch of the chopped Italian subs again.”

 “Narda said he was a looker. I’ve been working on a spell to help you find—”

 “Dear sister, this is not the time or place. Please take the tray of subs up to the front.”

 “Of course. Sorry, but we will talk about it tonight.”

 And just like that, her sister took the tray of finished subs and left. Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw Neal and the cameraman engaged in a conversation. Opaline was right. The three of them were going to have a lot to talk about later. Even now, just hearing his soft voice was rendering her pulse to pound erratically.

 Again, the thought crossed her mind that Neal might be the one that fate had chosen for her. Suddenly, she realized he was staring at her. He smiled, and she nearly crumbled to the ground. With as much control as Ebba could gather within herself, she returned his smile. Was he interested in her?

 



Narda’s Truth

The Witch DNA #2


Angel numbers & scents unearth a truth that has been hidden for years.

 

Reach for the Soap, owner, Narda Hunt, has been receiving signs in the form of numbers telling her she needs to find her half-sisters, Opaline and Ebba. An imminent threat is about to force them to combine their witch powers to survive.

 

One set of angel numbers brings Narda closer to Owin Waters, whom fate has determined is her soulmate. Their special connection sends them to another realm where Narda meets her deceased mother. She reveals the truth behind the special powers that Narda and her sisters possess.

 

With this knowledge, Narda brings to light the evil that is waiting for her and her sisters on their twenty-fifth birthday.

 

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“I’m usually not this forward on a first date—or any date, as a matter of fact—but I would like it very much if you kissed me.”

Owin gathered her closely against his body. “As a gentleman, your wish is my command.”

His sweet and teasing reply didn’t allow her time to respond as his lips touched hers. Then his mouth covered hers, and she opened her lips. Their tongues touched, and shivers of uncontrolled desire racked her body.

She wanted the moment to never end. It did, however, when the sound of a car horn tore them apart. They eyed each other and laughed. It was as if they were teenagers being caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing.

“Wow. That was some kiss. Did you hear horns too?”

Narda laughed harder. “I think it was more of a beep. I see we have arrived at my new store location. Shall we go in?”

“I’m game if you are. The front window is great for lookers.”

She dug into her purse to withdraw a set of keys and opened the front door. Once inside, she flicked on the lights. Owin followed her inside. Light flooded the open area.

 



Opaline’s Discovery

The Witch DNA Trilogy Book 1



Love. Magic. Danger.

Could these three words articulate distinct spiritual essences to fuse together?

Bookstore owner, Opaline Lunn, facilitates a Speed Dating Event, in hopes of finding her soulmate. She meets attendee Detective Eamon Dayan, who wasn’t looking for love, but sparks fly at their first kiss.

Together they unearth Opaline’s powers which lead to the discovery that she has two sisters, and someone called The Ancient One who wants to kill them.

Unraveling a myriad of mysteries, with Opaline’s newfound ability to do spells, the soulmates must find her sisters by her twenty-fifth birthday to be able to confront the evil force and save all of them.

 

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Now she was waiting for her fourth and final date.

  Eamon.

  Goodness, anticipation is everything.

  She couldn’t believe he wanted to go out with her on a real date. Most guys found her too intellectual. It wasn’t her fault she owned a bookstore and loved to read.  History, fiction, romance, fantasy, sci-fi—it didn’t matter.  Everything was interesting to her. No genre was off limits.

  The buzzer sounded, and she waited for Eamon. He arrived and took his seat. He didn’t say anything. She didn’t either. They sat for a moment, looking at each other, his blue eyes to her green eyes.

  Abruptly, the air surrounding her turned hot, but it wasn’t the kind of hot that made you sweat. It was the kind of sexual intensity that could consume a person, only to let go once it had been satisfied. Opaline fought the urge to fan herself.

  Like a foggy night, the room around the two of them became hazy. Eamon reached across the table and touched her cheek. Her body had a will of its own, and she leaned into his hand, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kiss her.

  “Opaline? Opaline, are you all right?”

  “Wha-what?”

  The room was clear again when she opened her eyes.

 Eamon hadn’t kissed her. She had imagined the kiss. He hadn’t reached out to her. But he was now. He didn’t touch her cheek. like she had envisioned. Instead, he was touching her hand. Until he wasn’t.

  Goodness sakes alive.

  “Sorry. I guess the excitement of the night has gotten to me,” she said, recovering. “Did you ask me something?”

  “No problem. I asked what you like to eat. If we’re going to go out on a date, I’ll have to find a restaurant because I don’t cook.”

  “I haven’t technically agreed to go out with you.” She laughed nervously.

  “I’m not going to let you say no.”

  “Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” Opaline reached across the table and took his hand. “I guess I don’t have a choice, then. Yes, I would like to go out with you.”

  “Great. Does tomorrow night work for you?”

  “You do work fast,” she said, lowering her voice, which came out in a low silvery tone.

  “Only when I need to.”

  She knew he was implying other things, and she smiled again, wishing he had kissed her.

  The buzzer ended their date, and Opaline stood. Most of the other attendees had finished their dates too. “I hate to rush things, but I need to wrap things up for the event.”

  “If you would like, I can help you with the cleanup,” Eamon said.

  “That’s so thoughtful, and here I was thinking you only liked to give the orders.”

  She saw by the way his head tilted to the side that her reply had caught him off guard. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and he was having a hard time coming up with a comeback. He mustn’t be used to word games like her customers at the bookstore were.  They usually gave it right back to her. Eamon, on the other hand, was still at a loss for words.

  “Yes, I’d love your help. I have to stick around until everyone leaves. I’ll make an announcement to let them know what time we have to be out of here. Then I can—no, we—can start.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll round up my sister to pitch in too,” he said.

  Opaline heard him chuckle and wondered if he had offered his sister’s help without her knowledge.




I was born and raised in the cold and beautiful Minnesota, but I escaped to Illinois for seventeen years to raise my two boys, and now I call Florida home. My husband Andy, who’s always been my hero, has put up with my late night computer typing and endless stacks of papers with my stories on them. We have one furry friend as family: Chip, a sixteen year old ragdoll cat.

Life has been full of ups and downs, but I’ve made it through the hard times. I love to travel and go to Disney World to trade pins.  I’ve been a bowler for many years, and you can catch me writing my next novel at the lanes.

I encourage you to check out my web site, www.sonjagunter.com for more info and don’t be surprised if I let my Norwegian heritage come through in my stories.

Go Vikings! You betcha!

 

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: Death Takes a Holiday Cover Reveal & Giveaway – 7/17

 


Death needed a vacation.

What he got was a murder, a demon, and a 73-year-old detective with no time to kill.


Death Takes a Holiday

The Mortimer & Mrs Morris Trilogy Book 1

by Tammie Painter

Genre: Humorous Dark Paranormal Mystery 




Death is bored. Immortality will do that to you.


** A hilarious new series from the author of The Cassie Black Trilogy! **

After an eternity of escorting souls to the afterlife, Death — who really prefers you call him Mortimer — is bored. There’s been departmental divisions, technical developments, and fitness crazes that mean people just aren’t dying like they used to.

What’s worse… He’s running low on romance novels to keep himself occupied.

His solution: a working holiday to Top World, where he expects room service, infinity-high thread counts, and an easy solution to get business booming again.

What he doesn’t expect is Mrs Morris, a seventy-three-year-old detective with a tightly packed schedule that leaves no room for an immortal assistant.

But Mortimer refuses to go away. After all, detectives find murderers, and having his very own killer would be the perfect way to nudge up those mortality rates.

Luckily, someone’s just been murdered — and Mrs Morris has been hired to find the culprit. The only trouble? The victim reeks of demons, turning Mortimer’s perfect opportunity into a great deal of trouble that could end his career. Oh, and the human race.

Death Takes a Holiday is a humorous fantasy novel about the most inconvenient partnership in the history of the afterlife, where a pair of unlikely allies are thrown together by broken bones, murder mysteries, pesky demons, and the deadliest cup of coffee in Portland.

Like Terry Pratchett joining the Thursday Murder Club, Death Takes a Holiday is perfect for fans of wry humor, paranormal mystery, and unforgettable characters forming reluctant bonds.

 

**Releases August 18, 2026 – PreOrder Now!**

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Author of humorous fantasy whodunits full of mythical misfits and magical mishaps

Many moons ago I was a scientist in a neuroscience lab where I got to play with brains and illegal drugs. Now, I take wickedly strong tea and turn it into comic fantasy whodunits full of mythical misfits and magical mishaps that I hope give you a giggle. 
My tales run the gamut from the ever-expanding Cassie Black Trilogy with its wryly humorous paranormal mysteries to the comical fantasy whodunits in The Circus of Unusual Creatures, and from light-hearted novellas celebrating my love of books to short fiction in which I really flex my myth-loving and humor-craving muscles!

When I’m not creating worlds or killing off characters, I can be found gardening, planning my next travel adventure, concocting some sort of mess in the kitchen, or working as an unpaid servant to one very spoiled cat and some very demanding squirrels.

 

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: The Purebeck Mysteries Book Tour & Giveaway – 7/3 to 8/3

 


The Dorset coast holds its secrets tight—

and the dead won’t stay quiet.


Vex Not Her Ghost

The Purebeck Mysteries Book 1

by Gill Calvin Thomas

Genre: Paranormal Mystery


A quirky detective tackles a haunting family mystery.

 

Caitlin was four years old when her mother died in mysterious circumstances. Thirty years later she comes into possession of her family home in Dorset. As she slowly recovers memories of her past, she becomes convinced that her mother’s ghost is warning her of impending disaster.

Aided by Charlie Bond, a private investigator, an enthralling story of deceit and deception unfolds as Caitlin and her friends expose the ultimate truth.

 

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Sister Olive Wouldn’t Hurt a Fly 

The Purebeck Mysteries Book 2


Fleeing to Dorset traps a mother and son between a cult and a killer waiting in the shadows…

 

If this whole saga was a fight between good and evil, then who had won? As far as Miriam could work out, neither good nor evil had triumphed yet. Now she was having to confront the grim consequences of Will’s behaviour, and she was mortally afraid. Maybe he and his darkness would win after all.

The tragic suicide of a young student starts a shocking chain of events for William Marshall, his wife Miriam and their son, Ollie. As Will descends into madness, a ghostly presence appears in their old house to protect Ollie. However, when two strangers threaten Miriam and an attempt is made to snatch Ollie, mother and son are forced to flee.

Amidst ever-present danger, they shake off pursuers to seek sanctuary in Rock House in Dorset, where they meet Caitlin and her friends. Twenty years have passed since Charlie Bond helped Caitlin solve the mystery of her mother’s death. Now, it is the turn of Charlie’s sidekick, Sam Haskell, to investigate a mysterious cult and unmask a killer.

 

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Gill Calvin Thomas is a retired academic who lives with her husband in Swanage , UK.  She finds inspiration in the landscape around her – the Isle of Purbeck has a spectacular coastline and beautiful beaches, and it is whilst walking here, that Gill develops characters and plots the twists and turns you will find in her books.

 Gill’s life experiences have informed her writing.  For example, her mother’s death when she was a small child, influenced her first book, Vex Not Her Ghost, where the heroine has to delve into the past to uncover the real circumstances of her mother’s death, the cover up and the ongoing corruption.  Her experiences as a social work academic governs the plot of her second book, Sister Olive Wouldn’t Hurt a Fly.  In this book the fatal combination of a researcher’s mental collapse and a sociopathic opportunist give rise to a cliffhanging finale.

 Reviewers have said that Gill writes the sort of books in which you find yourself racing to the end, whilst not wanting to finish.  Her characters are compelling, well-drawn and sensitively portrayed.  In her books bad people get what they deserve, but it is never quite what it seems.

 She is currently writing her third book. 

 

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: Mystics in Hell Book Tour & Giveaway – 7/10 to 7/24

 


No heaven can save them from their own twisted visions—

welcome to a side of the underworld you have never dared to imagine.


Mystics in Hell

A Heroes in Hell Anthology

compiled by Janet Morris

Genre: Dark Fantasy Anthology


Mystic Madness!

Join the doomed on their vision quests in eleven stories by the damnedest writers in Perdition: Janet Morris; A.L. Butcher; Joe Bonadonna; Andrew P. Weston; Gustavo Bondoni; Seth Lindberg; Tom Barczak; Michael H. Hanson; Louis Antonelli; Christopher Crosby Morris.

 

Mystics in Hell is the latest volume in the notorious Heroes in Hell series of anthologies and novels created by Janet Morris.

 

A Frame of Mind by Janet Morris & Chris Morris

Kit Marlowe treks back from exile, where he has encountered three witches. Carrying a skull which he found on a blasted heath, he arrives at the Globe, where Satan and the angel of death accost him. At their displeasure, he’s banished once more, this time to return instantly via the powers of the Fates. Satan meets him at a cast party and decrees that Kit not only will spy for him, but play Banquo, beheaded in each subsequent performance of Macbeth.

 

The Come Right Inn by Andrew P. Weston

Where we meet up with one of Satan’s most secretive agents. A charming woman with a finger—and most other body parts—in every pie. She’s bewitching, beguiling, and bedeviled to be sure, but won’t think twice about skinning you alive if you cross her.

 

Abode of Woe by A.L. Butcher

When the self-proclaimed anti-messiah builds a temple on their doorstep and ruins business, Calchas and Cassandra look to some devious means to bring down the walls. Dueling mystics and misinformation bring mayhem to the underworld.

 

Fool’s Gold by S.E. Lindberg

A tale of the Egyptian god of mysticism, Thoth, who seeks conspirators to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone; with it, Thoth could usurp Satan’s control of the realm of Duat. Taking up the charge is Howard Carter, infamous antiquarian and tomb raider, and the disgraced evolutionist Ernst Haeckel. They discover that King Midas’s alchemical ability to transmute flesh into gold relies on the stolen stone, and Midas is producing Hell’s new gastro-currency: buttcoin. They infiltrate the Mortuary Mint and sabotage the currency’s production. Instead of returning the stone to Thoth, the duo uses it to build up their own fortune. The auditors of Hell, namely the First and Second of the Sibitti, police the matter.

 

The True Believer by  Lou Antonelli

Few national leaders of the 20th century had as much of a negative and controversial impact on history as Hendrik Frensch Verwoerd, prime minister of South Africa from 1958 to 1966, when he was assassinated. Commonly referred to in South Africa as “Dr.” Verwoerd, he had a PhD in psychology, and went down in history as The Man Who Invented Apartheid. Now in Hell, Dr. Verwoerd refuses to acknowledge his infernal fate and gets a special visit to set him straight.

 

By Any Means Necessary by Gustavo Bondoni

Umberto Eco knows he’s in Hell; the suffering and multiple deaths that never kill him permanently are more than enough of a clue for a man of his learning.  But when he gets forcibly recruited by Nazi Commando Otto Skorzeny to prove the theories of one of history’s greatest charlatans, he thinks things can’t get any worse.  He’s wrong.  Hell can always get worse.

 

Excalibur by Tom Barczak

When dealing with the harsh reality of the Afterlife: Hell can be hard. But Rasputin has something even harder, and Lafayette Ronald Hubbard desperately needs it if he is going to pull off the greatest magic trick Hell has ever known.

 

On The Run by Michael H. Hanson

Tells of Sufi mystic Rumi, Zen Buddhist Dōgen, and Charlatan Spiritualist Mina Crandon using their new-found magics on the grandest of all quests, to find powerful talismans that will allow them to escape Hell itself.

 

The Sorcerous Apprentice by  Andrew P. Weston

Daemon Grim learns new tricks from an old dog. And just as well. There’s a fallen saint to bring to heel, and she’s not known for playing ball . . . crystal or otherwise.

 

The Colossus of Hell by Joe Bonadonna

Doctor Victor Frankenstein and computer scientist Alan Turing want to build a cyborg. Quasimodo wants to win the hand of the French fortune teller, Marie Anne Lenormand. Rasputin and Cagliostro want to open an exclusive, private club. And a mysterious damned soul, known only as the Orange Ogre, wants revenge against anyone in Hell who ever cheated or betrayed him, laughed at and humiliated him, or even ignored him—especially His Satanic Majesty himself.

 

Strange Arts by Janet Morris and Chris Morris

In a Tower cell, Marlowe’s head struggles to regain consciousness and rejoin his body. Here he finds his Elizabethan spymaster, Walsingham, waiting with J the Merciful and three mysterious Sisters. After painfully stitching together his body and soul, the five entreat him to join their most secret conspiracy.

  

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From The Abode of Woe by A.L. Butcher

 

Paradise’s dim light grew ever dimmer as the hell-lights began to glare with the blue glow of sulfur. It was an unforgiving light for the unforgiven. Word had got around, and crowds had begun to gather for the evening’s entertainment. Calchas had started a book on the outcome of the battle, and the diablos were rolling in.

“Two to One for the Pig Man!” yelled a grifter clad in the sharpest suit of the evening.

“Seven to Four for the Prince!” bellowed another voice, shrill in the crowd.

Kevin the fiend grinned. He was having the time of his unlife; he’d read the small-print.

“Are they ready?” Calchas asked, eying the large and sinister cloth-covered mounds on opposing sides of the temple.

“Yep. Ready for mayhem, master.” A smiling fiend is not something to stir the heart with confidence or joy and Calchas sobered. He wondered if he should feel guilty, but he had enough of that to last a thousand lifetimes and these New Dead had brought it on themselves. At least that is what he told himself and Cassandra.

“Ego fighting ego will bring no good for either. A temple built in haste to honor mere vanity and lies will surely fall to dust.” Cassandra stared at the mounds, hoping these fire-spiting death machines would not bring them all to the Undertaker’s door. Were they too close? She closed her eyes and let her mind wander.

“Will we be punished for this venture?” He’d asked, thinking too late they may have erred and voicing both their fears. He hoped nothing would backfire; plans in hell oft went awry. And he knew that sooner or later he’d pay the price for this deceit.

“This is Hades. Punishment is inherent. But I think not . . . at least not on this day. ‘Rue thy former life, and revel in thy afterlife, for thou art damned.’ Is that not the advice you once gave me? We are the damned. We must survive as we may. But those infernal and wicked weapons of the new-dead — Surely the walls of Ilium would have fallen on the first day.” She paused, “Would we have fought with such demon-weapons of war?”

Calchas gazed over to the two looming cloth-bound shapes. “Probably. Priam and Agamemnon would have found some means to destroy one another, no doubt. Man’s capacity for war outweighs his capacity for reason — and this place is full of the testimonials to that.”

“They will fall in dust as vain men are wont to do.” Cassandra told him.

“They won’t go through with it. It would be suicide. That building will fall down in the next hell-storm,” Calchas replied, doubtful.

They’d watched the crowd assemble from a reasonable distance. “Pack up. In case. And I will try to steer the mayhem from our door to be on the safe side, should the range of those war-weapons be enough to hit us. Make sure you are careful where you stand.

“Look there’s old Assisi. Out for the entertainment, along with everyone else by the looks. Let’s see — drinks are half-price.” Calchas would not let this opportunity pass.

Cassandra nodded, “Where did you get the fire-spitters?”

“Che Guevara owes me a favor. It might be useful to keep one—just in case. How hard can they be to use? Look, come there are our two brave heroes.” Calchas separated himself from Cassandra, still in the guise of the department man, and wandered over to the two Prophets.

“So, gentlemen, are we ready to settle this? Remember the winner gets control of that site, should it still be standing. The loser, or losers . . .will have more immediate issues to deal with.” Calchas motioned to the nearer of the covered shapes. “Who would like Big Bertha?”

The Reverend Henry Prince stared doubtfully at the shape. “That’s not a sword, or a firearm.”

“Give that make a Heck-Cookie!” Kevin chortled. He’d been milling and warming up the onlookers. With a flourish he tugged the cloth away — to reveal a howitzer, pointing towards the Temple of Woe. It was an evil-looking device, as were many man-made machines of death. “Humans, they do like to kill one another in all sorts of inventive ways! Welcome Big Bertha. She’s a friendly girl!”

“And the other?” Smyth-Pigott asked, his voice tremulous.

They walked across to a lower-slung shape. “Gentlemen, meet Roaring Meg, the deadly maiden of the English Roundheads,” Kevin chuckled.

“Not your era, I suppose, but they do the job. They are primed for combat. Meg has helpers: she fires but one ball at a time, yet she’s a fiery lass and one of the more knowledgeable operatives of hell has evened the odds.” Calchas held his palm out, containing dice. “Whoever rolls snake-eyes gets first choice, but Meg is a little slower, and older, and thus she fires first.”

“What happens if we refuse this ridiculous plan?” Henry Prince could not take his eyes from the cannon.

“Refuse? I wasn’t aware that was an option.” Calchas feigned surprise.

Kevin murmured something in Calchas’ ear, “My associate says it is an option but if a refusal is forthcoming then all rights are revoked to build now and for infernity, Sentence will be the six-hundred and sixty-five years of cleaning Perish sewers, and you must publicly affirm your rival as the true Chosen One, the true heir and the ultimate seer. And as both are equally guilty you will have to work together, and your women too, forever. If both refuse, then it must be done at exactly the same time. Whomever speaks first is deemed the greater coward.”




British-born A. L. Butcher is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet, and a dreamer, a lover of science, natural history, history, and monkeys. Her prose has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as ‘evocative’. She writes with a sure and sometimes erotic sensibility of things that might have been, never were, but could be.

Alex is the author of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles and the Tales of Erana lyrical fantasy series. She also has several short stories in the fantasy, fantasy romance genres with occasional forays into gothic style horror, including the Legacy of the Mask series. With a background in politics, classical studies, ancient history and myth, her affinities bring an eclectic and unique flavour in her work, mixing reality and dream in alchemical proportions that bring her characters and worlds to life.

She also curates speculative fiction themed book bundles on Pubshare – for the most part – the Here Be Series

Alex is also proud to be a writer for Perseid Press where her work features in Heroika: Dragon Eaters, Heroika Skirmishers – where she was editor and cover designer as well as writer – as well as Lovers in Hell and Mystics in Hell – part of the acclaimed Heroes in Hell series. http://www.theperseidpress.com/

 

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: San Quentin Exodus Book Tour & Giveaway – 7/7 to 7/14

 


What happens when a literature teacher channels her inner Nancy Drew to break an inmate out of America’s most famous prison?


San Quentin Exodus

by Bill Smoot

Genre: Historical Literary Fiction, Crime Drama


James, a still-water-runs-deep boy, struggles to navigate the rough streets of Oakland, California, in the 80s. His only friend is a pit bull he rescues from dog fighting. On the cusp of college, James commits a crime that results in a prison term of thirty to life.

Allison, a young Indiana girl obsessed with Nancy Drew novels, vows that her life’s mission will be to solve mysteries and help people. Introverted yet daring, Allison moves to Berkeley to teach prep school and volunteers as a tutor at San Quentin. She meets James when he is approaching fifty, learns his story, and after his parole denial, channels Nancy Drew to plan his improbable escape.

San Quentin Exodux is a braided novel about two people whose lives cross in a quest to reset an ill-fated life. It is a story infused with misfortune and pain, but also with hope and a fierce humanity.

 

“San Quentin Exodus, Bill Smoot’s deeply compelling novel, introduces readers to the world of prison but really to the much bigger world of his characters’ lives, inviting us to follow the trajectory of each as it unfolds with surprise and mystery, love and loss. Like all good literature, San Quentin Exodus ultimately asks us to reconsider everything we believe—or think we believe. Smoot is the consummate storyteller: restrained, wise, compassionate.”
Lori Ostlund, author of Are You Happy?

 

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Prologue

 

Wings

In one week Allison Anderson will commit her first felony: section 4550 of the California Penal Code, helping someone escape from a state prison. Almost everyone who knows her would be stunned with disbelief. For her, it’s the ultimate realization of who she is.

One autumn evening six years ago, Allison entered San Quentin Prison as a volunteer tutor. Walking across the prison grounds, she gazed at the forty-foot walls, the spirals of razor-

wire, and the imposing guard towers. She wondered how an inmate might escape. It was her first time in a prison, and the question engaged her problem-solving mind. She did not know

that one day she would devise an escape plan. She did not know that she would put that plan into action. At the time, it was just a thought experiment, a challenge for a woman whose childhood heroine was Nancy Drew, girl sleuth.

Allison’s most vivid memory of entering the prison that evening was the birds. When she and her group rounded the hospital building and walked across the yard, she saw geese and gulls scratching the ground on the baseball field. It was mere minutes before the October sun would set, and their white feathers glowed like gold. A single goose stretched his neck, dipped his thick body, and with a push from his feet and a flapping of his great wings, he rose from the ground and glided across the field, then soared over the wall. Other geese did the same, their necks piercing the air like arrows. Sea gulls followed. The walls and guard towers were mere landmarks below them, like trees or outcroppings of rock, obstacles they cleared with ease. They didn’t need an escape plan. They had wings.

 

The First Day and the Last

They say that the two days of prison an inmate remembers most vividly are his first and his last. Everything in between is a blur. James’ first day was 30 years ago. His last—maybe—will be in one week. If Hemingway’s character could walk away from war, James can declare his separate peace from prison. It’s time to move on, regardless of what the parole board has ruled. It’s necessary. An absolute must.

For society, James is a statistic, another Black man languishing in prison, costing the state $75,000 a year. His escape—if it succeeds—will save taxpayers money. For himself, it will be his personal exodus, his promised land of another chance at life. If things go according to plan, no one will know how he did it. He will just disappear, a man become a ghost. Allison is a smart young lady, and he can’t find any flaws in her plan, but he is haunted by that old saying: If it seems too good to be true, then it probably is.

James is filled with yearning and fear. The greater danger is not that he’ll get caught and have time added to his sentence—though that’s a real possibility—but that the hope he’s allowed himself to feel will die. That’s the greater risk. The loss of hope he could not bear.

He lies in his bunk, trying to conjure up positive images. The thought of freedom makes his skin prickle. The shadows of the bars cross his body, spill onto the concrete floor. He listens to the cell block tick with sound, as if the walls are straining to breathe. He imagines a sea gull soaring on the wind.

 



Bill Smoot grew up in Maysville, Kentucky, and attended Purdue University where he was editor of the campus newspaper, The Purdue Exponent. Fired as editor by the university president, he was reinstated after protest from students and faculty. He went on to graduate school at Northwestern University, where he received a PhD in philosophy. He has taught for four decades at levels ranging from sixth grade to university students. He currently teaches courses at Mount Tamalpais College at San Quentin and the Osher Institute for Lifelong Learning at UC-Berkeley. His essays and short stories have such publications as Ninth Letter, Crab Creek Review. The Nation, Literary Review, Crab Orchard Review, Western Humanities Review, Narrative, and Salon.com. His the author of Conversations with Great Teachers and a novel, Love: A Story. Mr. Smoot currently lives in Berkeley, California, with his dog Artemis. His website is https://billsmoot.net

 

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: False Connections Book Tour & Giveaway – 7/1 to 7/22

 


She’s ex-MI5.

MI5 wants her dead.

Who can she trust?

False Connections

by Steve Sheppard

Genre: Thriller, Action


“Thriller addicts won’t be disappointed”
“Steve Sheppard has created another great character in Mel Milano.”



Three years ago, Mel Milano was an MI5 intelligence officer with a promising career. Then, during a routine protection and surveillance operation in Wales, things went drastically wrong and three people died, including Mel’s partner and fiancé, Liam Webster.


Drummed out of the service on trumped-up charges by MI5 Deputy Director, Sarah Brook, Mel lost her career, her self-respect, her confidence and her fiancé. Nothing made sense.


Three years on, she is rebuilding her life, working for a private security outfit.
But she’s never forgiven the way she was dumped by MI5. One day she’ll discover the truth about Brook and what was really going on.


Now, though, it’s clear that Mel’s not the only one still holding a grudge. Suddenly everybody seems to want her dead. But why?


On the run from MI5, is there anyone Mel can trust to help her uncover the past?

 

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February. Freezing. Snow everywhere. A surveillance stint in Oswestry. At least, it was supposed to be surveillance. Well, surveillance and persuasion. Piece of piss job, frankly, and as it was just Liam and me, holed up in a cottage for an unspecified time, I’d looked forward to it. We didn’t often get to work together so when we did it was a bonus. We’d been a pair for nine months, engaged for two. Secretly engaged, that is, certainly as far as the service went. Married couples were absolutely not allowed – there was an idea it could lead to agents being compromised – but they were realistic enough to understand they could do little about more casual hook-ups: everyone knew that being in a relationship with someone not in the service was fraught with difficulties.

So, the only people who knew about the engagement were my parents, enjoying their retirement on the Gold Coast in Australia – Liam’s were both dead, killed in a car crash when he was a teenager – and our immediate boss, Catherine Spencer, a splendid old battle-axe with a heart of gold. Catherine was probably in the wrong job. She was far too concerned with the mental wellbeing of her charges, who she tended to treat as though they were the family she no longer had. Unlike Sarah Brook, she’d not been a field agent so hadn’t had her softer, more human edges knocked off her. I loved her to bits.

                Anyway, as I say, it was a simple enough job. Keep an eye on two young Russian dissidents, a married couple with the assumed names of Grigori and Polina Mironov. They were journalists in Moscow who had caught the eye of the Kremlin in the sort of way that was likely to end very badly very quickly, so they’d been spirited out via Estonia and brought to Birmingham. MI5 had no real thoughts that the Mironovs could be of any great help after their initial debrief; I genuinely think the overriding plan was to keep them safe. Good guys one, bad guys nil sort of thing. Not that the service was expecting the Russians to bother sending assassins to Birmingham to knock them off; it’s not as touristy as Salisbury for one thing. So the watching brief I had on the Mironovs was near the bottom of my extensive list of responsibilities.

                Until it wasn’t.

                Completely unexpectedly, after two years in Birmingham, Grigori and Polina upped sticks and moved sixty-five miles west to Oswestry, about as close to the Welsh border you can get without being a sheep. No one knew why. They certainly didn’t tell their local handler. Five weren’t keen on that. Black mark for the handler and a blacker one for his supervisor: me. It’s a lot easier for a couple of Russians to stay under the radar in Brum, surrounded by a million ethnically diverse people, than it is in a small rural town like Oswestry. No matter how fluent their English was, Grigori and Polina would soon become the subject of gossip and MI5 is distinctly anti-gossip.

                So that’s when Liam and I got involved. It was my job anyway and Catherine Spencer, told to send someone after them, watch them, befriend them, try and find out why they’d disappeared into the back of beyond, keep them safe and, one way or another, persuade them back to civilisation, decided that Liam should go too. If the friendly approach didn’t work and we had to do it forcibly, I’d find it difficult by myself. Liam riding shotgun was fine by me as Catherine well knew, although I didn’t think force would be needed. We were both good at striking up random friendships and we were a similar age to Grigori and Polina. Two young couples both new to the town. Nothing could be easier. So we were given fake jobs, installed in a small house around the corner from the Mironovs’ rented flat and told to get on with it.

                To start with it was straightforward. First of all, I arranged to bump into Polina in the local Co-op. She was thin, pale, drawn, with washed-out blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Obviously struggling to find a particular item on the shelves. Black tea, it turned out. I helped her look but it was a small store and we had to settle for Earl Grey. That got a conversation going. As we were both new to the town, I invited her and her husband to join us for a drink in the pub. Two pairs of outsiders united against the Welsh, of whom there were many. She laughed. The first warning sign was that they’d reverted to their real names, Marat and Natalya Panarin, which only added to Five’s concern. It was the first indication that the job might not be as uncomplicated as Liam and I had expected.

                It didn’t take long for things to go wrong. Badly wrong.

 




Steve Sheppard was born and grew up in Surrey before moving to Buckinghamshire and then to Oxfordshire, where he spent a quarter of a century living in an idiosyncratic village that was the affectionate inspiration for his fourth book, Lazytown. He now lives in Hampshire. He spent forty years starting to write books but not finishing them, until belatedly realising that the key is not to give up. The other thing he has since learned is that he should have become a celebrity before writing a book, as this would have made selling it much easier. 

 False Connections is Steve’s fifth book, but the first one written as a straight thriller and not primarily as a comedy, although it does contain humour. He hopes it will be the first of a series featuring feisty, funny but flawed ex-MI5 agent, Mel Milano. He also has three spy thrillers with laughs to his name, all published by Claret Press: A Very Important Teapot (2019), set in Australia, Bored to Death in the Baltics (2021), not set in Australia, and Poor Table Manners (2024), which takes place in Cape Town.  These feature an initially fairly hapless hero, Dawson, and a considerably less hapless heroine, Lucy, together with varied supporting casts, most of whom are not who they claim to be. Steve’s fourth book is an out-and-out comedy-murder-mystery, Lazytown (2025).

  

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: Where Dragons Are Captured Release Tour & Giveaway – 6/26 to 7/17

 


How much would you wager to save a dragon?

Your safety, your friends, your people?

How about your life?


Where Dragons Are Captured

Where Dragons Are Book 1

by Fran Zuid

Genre: Epic Grimdark Dragon Fantasy Adventure



How much would you wager to save a dragon? Your safety, your friends, your people? How about your life?

Skye, an alitur—elf as the small-minded humans would degrade her—is a gambler hiding in the skin of her enemy to escape capture, her past and her true identity.

However, her fragile safety shatters when she’s caught cheating. Thrown into the corrupt world of gambling, where animals and creatures are pitted against one another for sport, Skye witnesses something she thought long extinct: dragons.

Determined to save and connect with the dragons, Skye is drawn into a web of deceit, loyalty, and love, impelling her to face her past and reclaim her heritage.

With unlikely allies, Skye must confront the soul-devouring priestesses and their ruthless general, One-Eye-Nic, before the last dragons—and her own soul—are lost forever.

This is an enthralling tale of lies, rebellion, and the price of freedom…


**NEW RELEASE!**

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The girl showed up with their tankards and a jug of homebrew. The man’s attention went straight to her cleavage. The hairy man pinched her behind for good measure before tipping her. Skye used the distraction to nick a card from the pack, a prince, hiding it in her coat sleeve. She waited for the girl to leave before dealing. The cards were soft, faded, and stained from nights of gambling.

Skye watched the three players as they scrutinized their cards. ‘Stupid’ smiled, Sid’s left eye twitched. The hairy man downed his tankard of homebrew.

Skye looked at her cards, she had two of pawns and a prince. On the table were a five and a seven of shields, a castle, and a three of pawns. Skye wasn’t sure what ‘Stupid’ thought he had, but Skye was pretty sure Sid had a castle, giving him the highest pair from the table.

Skye’s attention turned to the hairy man. The more she watched him, the more he seemed a ‘Stupid’ and in that case, no threat to Skye. He was only lucky with the previous hand.

Skye had the winning hand if she switched her two of pawns for the prince in her sleeve. ‘Stupid’ started the bets, throwing half his coin in, four silvers. Sid saw the bet and the hairy man added a silver.

She didn’t want to chase away Sid, so she also raised with only a silver coin. Keep it modest, keep it moving.

As the bets evened out around the table, Skye shifted her weight slightly and slid one hand under the edge of her sleeve. A quiet motion, a simple flick. She switched her cards—replacing a dud with a prince. Now she had two.

But just as her fingertips closed over the edge of the second card, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

Steel. Not touch. Not pressure. Just steel.

“That is enough. We know what you are,” a male voice said. “Good call, Jim, you will get your reward. And you,” the man’s grip tightened slightly, “Finn Skylar, just won yourself a meeting with the gambler’s guild.”

Her heart jumped. Breath caught halfway up her throat. The hairy man had a smug cat-smile. He’d caught his mouse.

Her gut twisted. A setup. She shouldve seen it. Shouldve felt it. No wonder he was unreadable—he wasnt here to play. He was here for her. Cold flooded her limbs.

What did they know? That she was a cheater? A woman? An alitur?

Or all three?

She relaxed her face into neutrality, but her mind raced. Could she run? No. Not yet. Too many eyes, too close to the table. No one had drawn steel, which meant they still wanted her alive—questioned, not killed. Yet.

“What? You have nothing to say?” the hairy man–Jim–said. He leaned over and took Skye’s tankard of homebrew and downed it. “Cheers.”

Skye didn’t answer. She reached down, slow and measured, and picked her tricorne up off the floor. Her hat was just fabric—but it made her feel armed. Steady. Like herself.

She rose to her feet.

“I don’t know what this guy told you,” Skye gestured towards Jim, “but I didn’t cheat. I haven’t seen him before in my life.” She truly hoped that was the only reason they were confronting her.

The house-muscle behind Skye chuckled, or that was what she assumed the rumbling noise was.

“We have been watching, and you have an appointment with the gambling guild.”

“No one told me,” Skye said with a shrug.

“I did. Just now.”

Skye looked over her shoulder at the house-muscle looming over her. Tall. Broad shoulders. A scar cut down his right temple, hugging the cheekbone like a crack in old stone. His stance was heavy, but not rooted. A bit off balance. Good.

The short one would be slower, maybe better in a brawl, but easy to outmaneuver. The tall one could be clumsy. The real problem was her coat—it would get in the way if she had to move fast. If she had to fight.

But—

She ran through options. Surrender. Fight. Flee. None was good. She shifted her weight, breath held shallow in her chest.

“Where is this meeting?” Skye asked.

“At the boss’s office, at the pits,” the tall one answered.

Skye scanned the room. No escape. Everyone watched. Waited. Sid had crushed his cards in his hands. Only Jim kept drinking, he found his entertainment for the night.

“I don’t go to the pits,” Skye said.

The tall one rumbled again from behind, “I don’t care, you are going.”

The room inhaled.

Jim smirked at Skye and lifted his tankard off the table. With a flick and a flash of her hand, a knife plunged into Jim’s eye.

Gasps.

The cup fell, and Jim followed. 





Fran Zuid lives in a village on the outskirts of Cape Town, South Africa, with two dogs and four parrots (her personal dragons, without the fire-breathing part—which is a bonus). If she is not submerged in a creative fantasy world, or playing old games, she is fiddling in her garden, sipping wine at a vineyard or conquering a hiking trail somewhere—that is, if her “dragons” allow it.

Where Dragons Are Captured is her debut novel.

 

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Goddess Fish Promotions: THE DEADLY TEA Blurb Blitz & Giveaway – 6/22 to 7/24



This post is part of a virtual book organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Rachel Dacus will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.



Most sleuths don’t have the advantage of talking to the murder victim for clues, but Saffron has a window into the afterlife. The problem is, she’s not a detective and has no wish to be.

In the charming heart of London’s Notting Hill, Saffron juggles motherhood, running an animal welfare foundation, and counseling recently deceased spirits—the invisibles. But her peaceful routine is upended when a spirit insists she solve the mystery of his untimely death. Lucas Troy pops into her awareness claiming he was killed and demanding she figure out who did it. He wants justice before he’ll agree to move on. But Saffron’s role isn’t to play detective, but to help each invisible plan for the next adventure in living. She asks Lucas if he suspects anyone in the circle at his aunt’s tea party where he died. He can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill him, but he persuades Saffron to interview them all.

She feels for Lucas, who had hardly begun his life, and she tries to persuade him that he can have a great future next lifetime, but finally she gives in and agrees to a little investigating. If she finds out something, perhaps he’ll agree to move forward. But the closer she gets to the possible killer, the more she’s in danger. Saffron has no wish to join Lucas in The Room Over There.

Settle in to a cozy mystery with a touch of the supernatural, the heartwarming chaos of family, and the charm of London’s Notting Hill. “Interesting characters, intriguing mystery.”


Read an Excerpt

It was glorious to dawdle around the bohemian and vintage shops on Portobello Road, and the addition of rare April sunshine in London made it seem to Saffron like her spa day. Not that she ever got to have those, as most mothers of young children didn’t. But today, browsing and shopping, she indulged herself in a glorious solitude amid the crowds. This busy street was her paradise, and she needed just a few more things for the children’s Easter outfits, but hoping not to find them too quickly.

Traffic and people swirled around her, and she thrilled to the bright colors, food stalls, brushes of music wafting out of open doors. She would forever be a tourist in her adopted city of London. Notting Hill was so like her San Francisco Bay Area, but snootier. In many ways, more exciting.

Peering into windows, she thought about the perfect bow tie she wanted for Percy’s suit, so her seven-year-old son didn’t look like a tiny banker. Four-year-old Freida could use a flower pin for her pinafore dress. Focusing on these ideas was such a pleasure. Saffron tried to wipe the smile off her face, remembering that Londoners did not walk around smiling, though Californians often did.

A passerby jostled her, and as she stopped to check her bag, a low voice drifted down. “Hey! Anyone here?”

Hella damn. An invisible. Another drifting spirit.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m busy, as you can see. You can see me, right?”

“I see a lot of hair. Curly. Are you some kind of animal?”

Saffron huffed. “You’re looking at the top of my head. Come down lower, so you can see my face.”

Some might call it being haunted, but Saffron called it helping invisibles. She wasn’t often contacted by newly dead people, but occasionally one popped into her vicinity. They always needed orientation and comfort after the trauma of dying.

About the Author:



Rachel Dacus is the author of eight novels and five poetry collections. Her fiction features love and relationships, exotic locations and intrepid heroines, and emotional journeys of self-discovery, all with a touch of the supernatural. Her poetry, stories, and essays have appeared widely in print and online literary journals and anthologies. She enjoys life in the beautiful San Francisco Bay Area, with its coast and trails where she walks her tiny but mighty Silky Terrier with her architect husband.

Website: http://www.racheldacus.net/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelDacusAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Rachel_Dacus
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/racheldacusauthor/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Deadly-Tea-cozy-mystery-Invisibles-ebook/dp/B0GPT7ZLFW

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: The Hera-Zeta Chronicles Book Tour & Giveaway – 6/18 to 7/18

 


The only freedom of man is the freedom of thought. 

That is how human evolution is possible. 

Evolution of a man is the development of power and possibilities 

which never develop by themselves.


The Hera-Zeta Chronicles:

As Above So Below

by Zsa Zsa Tudos

Genre: SciFi Fantasy, Extraterrestrial Time Travel



Somewhere between galaxies, soul contracts, and the quiet chaos of human emotion, the book casually decided to rearrange your entire understanding of reality. Rude. Brilliant. Slightly illegal.


The Hera-Zeta Chronicles: As Above So Below doesn’t just tell a story, it initiates the reader. There’s something deeply precise about the way Zeta’s earthly path intertwines with Hera’s galactic mission, like it is not just a fiction, but it is decoding something ancient and quietly slipping it into the reader’s consciousness. The dynamic between dimensions, the Alpha & Omega Council, the 12 Magi… it all feels expansive without losing emotional gravity. And then it is anchored in something so human: behaviour, struggle, longing, connection.

The story embraces millions of Earthly years in cosmic interrelations emphasising the roles of earthlings in the Great Matrix and the cycle of nature. It is not only a book but an initiation of the readers, that can truly highjack their mind and clear misconceptions chiselled in by hundreds of years of conscious brainwashing.


The 87 chapters introduce events of the multidimensional life of the heroes, like the 1st generation Hera, a member of the Alpha&Omega Council, Hades’s wife, and her earthly counterpart Zeta, whose mission is to push the knowledge and help the Haya Sophia, the Magnum Opus, the Sefer Jezeera. Their steamy love affair with Hades serves as a good example of passion and deep emotional attachment.


There are no sharp divisions in the book. The story unfolds naturally, through which a clear vision of the origin and the true nature of mankind is drawn, providing allowance for the supernatural capabilities they all possess and the responsibilities they all bear.
Touching upon the creation and the arrival of people on the planet, the book introduces the effects of prominent astronomical events, migration, purpose, the knowledge and the lack of it, through the picture that unfolds after removing the man-made gap fillers, the stories and false events invented by the groups in power.


With the help of astral travelling, souls go through star gateways, visit far-away planets, learn and experience to support the one objective of life: to raise their own vibration. With the interrelations of energies, it creates a healthier environment below and adds to the frequency required by the above to fit into the cycle.


However, as it was clearly stated by Antoine Saint-Exupery in his most prominent book, The Little Prince, WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS HIDDEN. This concealed treasure is always Knowledge. Nevertheless, there is a catch. One needs to have enough to understand the lack of it.
Life is a jigsaw puzzle. However, the board is empty and there is no image to help you with the design. The only certainty is the interrelations between the pieces.

My strong desire is to help people understand their lives, events and become knowledgeable enough to take responsibility for their words, thoughts and deeds. It is a necessary step towards the Nirvana, called Happiness.
All the wonders!

 

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    Here we are, two weeks before the third anniversary and it all goes down the drain,” went through her mind.

     So much has changed during these three years. She gave up her work in London, moved to Budapest and started to build a new life.

     “Was it worth it?” she pondered.

     She realized that she couldn’t put off the stock taking any longer. She knew that it was necessary to ease the pain.

     “Yes, today is the day,” she said and took the usual motion of jumping out of bed.

     Suddenly, there was a firm grip on her shoulders that forced her to stay put. The touch made her shiver. At first, she could not see the energy, only smelled it. A deep, sweet, masculine, forceful and sensational fragrance filled her nostrils, carried the promise of an overwhelmingly satisfying sexual intercourse.

     “Oh, Sweet Creator, aahh, I need to get up. Really, ahhmmmm.”

     A wet, warm and soft sucking took over her left toe that spread on, taking the right toe first and finally covered the feet under the duvet. Zeta focused and let the familiar face taking shape in front of her eyes. The dark, bushy hair, strong straight nose, lushes, dark red lips, fiery black eyes and this absolutely perfect, beautiful body with its strong curves and moving muscles brought a grateful smile on her face. Closed her eyes in comfort and enjoyed the currents pulsing through her body.

     “My darling brother, you never let me down. Do you love me?”

     “Very much, sweetest and enjoy your body even more,” replied the man.

     “You are only saying it because you feel ashamed for the behaviour of your earthly soul. Why didn’t you teach him, why didn’t you help him to remember? He is so lost!” continued the woman.

     “Hush Hera, hush…” he said and pressed his warm lips firmly on hers. His tongue started its way, gently opened the teeth and disappeared in the mouth. She lifted her arms and tried to caress him.  

     The hands were slowly coming up on the firm back and dancingly lost themselves in the hair-jungle. The lips opened, giving full access to the sucking and licking tongue.

     They seemed to forget Earth and all its pain. The mouth released the tongue and allowed it to make its way down on her body.

     “I should have taken a shower with a softening lotion and put some perfume on,” ran through Zeta-Hera’s mind.

     The man noticed the apprehensive tightness in her muscles.

     “Let it be, my sister, you are Hera now. You do not need lotions and showers. You can change your body and be anything you want. Do you understand?”

     “Yes, Hades, my darling brother, I understand,” replied the woman and with a curving motion helped the tongue to reach her nipples.

     The gentle and wet sucking made heavenly sounds while a big warm hand travelled through the stomach and landed on the navel. The tongue followed it shortly, licking its way deeply into Hera’s soul. The woman cried out.





Life is an extraordinary journey. It is full of challenges and unsolved tasks that are put in front of us on the constantly moving and changing road towards Nirvana, the place that today we refer to as Happiness.

In my journey, I visited 103 countries, lived in 7, on 4 continents. I learned about the interrelated micro- and macrocosm. I became a REIKI Master-Healer, an Initiated Witch, an Orixa Shamanic Master, and a Phoenix Initiated Educator to teach the ancient wisdom of Khem, the Royal Art of Al Khemi.

Today, I have an established philosophy – I call AKIA – that explores the interrelations between earthlings and nature, and Earth and the universe. I have 12 books published and many faithful students. I am an Intimacy & Family coach and help people to find their purpose. The joy of seeing them succeed gives me the strength to find new adventures and learn from new experiences.

I believe that learning is the only way to understand life and the self within. This unique knowledge makes us or breaks us in the end.

I am British and living in London.

 

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Silver Dagger Book Tours: Sister Olive Wouldn’t Hurt a Fly Cover Reveal & Giveaway – June 25th


Fleeing to Dorset traps a mother and son between 

a cult and a killer waiting in the shadows…


Sister Olive Wouldn’t Hurt a Fly 

The Purebeck Mysteries Book 2

by Gill Calvin Thomas

Genre: Paranormal Mystery



If this whole saga was a fight between good and evil, then who had won? As far as Miriam could work out, neither good nor evil had triumphed yet. Now she was having to confront the grim consequences of Will’s behaviour, and she was mortally afraid. Maybe he and his darkness would win after all.

The tragic suicide of a young student starts a shocking chain of events for William Marshall, his wife Miriam and their son, Ollie. As Will descends into madness, a ghostly presence appears in their old house to protect Ollie. However, when two strangers threaten Miriam and an attempt is made to snatch Ollie, mother and son are forced to flee.

Amidst ever-present danger, they shake off pursuers to seek sanctuary in Rock House in Dorset, where they meet Caitlin and her friends. Twenty years have passed since Charlie Bond helped Caitlin solve the mystery of her mother’s death. Now, it is the turn of Charlie’s sidekick, Sam Haskell, to investigate a mysterious cult and unmask a killer.

 

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Gill Calvin Thomas is a retired academic who lives with her husband in Swanage , UK.  She finds inspiration in the landscape around her – the Isle of Purbeck has a spectacular coastline and beautiful beaches, and it is whilst walking here, that Gill develops characters and plots the twists and turns you will find in her books.

 Gill’s life experiences have informed her writing.  For example, her mother’s death when she was a small child, influenced her first book, Vex Not Her Ghost, where the heroine has to delve into the past to uncover the real circumstances of her mother’s death, the cover up and the ongoing corruption.  Her experiences as a social work academic governs the plot of her second book, Sister Olive Wouldn’t Hurt a Fly.  In this book the fatal combination of a researcher’s mental collapse and a sociopathic opportunist give rise to a cliffhanging finale.

 Reviewers have said that Gill writes the sort of books in which you find yourself racing to the end, whilst not wanting to finish.  Her characters are compelling, well-drawn and sensitively portrayed.  In her books bad people get what they deserve, but it is never quite what it seems.

 She is currently writing her third book. 

 

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