Bounty's Song by Mandy Colton - Book Blast and Giveaway

About the Book

Gage Knight is a Texas bounty hunter and just doing a tough job when he’s sent to Nashville to pick up a grifting high-dollar fugitive. He arrives at the right place at almost the right time, but he makes a big mistake when he leaves.

Once a debutante, Danica Chastain is now a struggling songwriter with a dream of landing a job in the music business. On the day when her hard work seems to be heading in the right direction, a gruff man with a dark presence and wolfish eyes arrives at her door.

Although their immediate chemistry is off the charts, the two clash—for good reason. Danica is not who he thinks she is, and he’s not listening...

Excerpt

“Open the damn door, Gage, or I’m walking in whether you are flagrante delicto or not!”

Groaning, he rolled out of bed, holding his aching head, shuffled to the door, and wrenched it open. “What the hell, Cheryl? And speak English!”

She snickered, reaching up and stuck her pointer finger to the tip of his nose. “Right back atcha, big boy. You’re gettin’ the Tara Morgan file back. Get it together, and get your primo ass moving.” She wrinkled her nose and backed up a step, waving her hand. “Dude, you are ripe. Are you drunk?”

“Yes! And I would like to sleep it off in peace. I just delivered Morgan.”

“No. You delivered one Danica Chastain, and the boss ain’t happy. You would not believe the God-awful twist he’s got his boxers in over this one. He’s embarrassed, all kinds of pissed, and was holding a nut cracker in one hand when I left. You know what that means.”

Fuck. The woman had been telling the truth. “I have no idea where to find the real Tara Morgan. She evidently left Nashville before I picked up the Chastain girl. Their IDs must have been switched.”

“Gage, this kind of shoddy work is not like you. What the hell happened?”

He ran his hand through his hair, and it hurt. “Where is she? Danica?”

“Dad compensated her, which will come out of your next check, and bought her a bus ticket back to Nashville.”

Shit! He should be taking her home. He owed her that much, and he needed to talk to her. He wanted to...

“Gage?” She snapped her fingers in his face. “Gage!”

“Will you stop yelling, girly? My head is already pounding like a bass drum and ready to explode.”

Cheryl was just staring at him now with her head cocked. “How come you got drunk?”

He ignored her.

She pulled a wry grin. “I saw that girl... She was pretty. You sweet on her? Huh? Is that what happened? She get under your skin and twist your gonads all up into a love knot?”

This girl and the boss both had an obsession with balls. The wile little snippet of a girl swung a set of truck nuts off the front of her little Jeep. Big black ones. Gage just stared at her a minute and continued his shuffle to the medicine cabinet for some aspirin.

Cheryl followed, hot on his heels. “Oh my freakin’ gawd, I’m right. A woman finally got to you. Gage, the eternal bachelor. Did you do the taboo and pork a skip?”

He stopped and turned. Cheryl was Gavin’s daughter, a professional meddler. Gavin was one of his bosses, a bail bondsman. He worked for a couple of guys who kept him plenty busy. Cheryl just happened to be the go-to girl if you needed information. She could find a third of their skips just through her own contact mill. Everybody liked her, including cops, lawyers, judges, and even some political types. She knew somebody in every neighborhood and precinct in Houston and then a bunch of key people across the state. Shit. Across at least three states. A perpetual-talking, networking, goldmine she was. Friendly as hell, instantly likable, cute as a button with her short-spiky hair like his own, and a cute little pixie face. She was the closest thing to an annoying little sister he’d ever had and currently working up to being a pain in his ass today.

“Girl, will you please stop talkin’. I need to take an aspirin and a piss,” he grumbled.

She leaned against the doorframe, shit-grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t mind. It’s been a while since I saw it. If you’re too weak this mornin’, I could hold it for ya.”

He shook his head and shut the door. Little shit.

He had just started to trickle when Cheryl started talking again through the door and his stream halted. “You know, chances are, that Morgan girl didn’t go far. We got lucky findin’ her in Tennessee, and I don’t think she ever planned to stay long. I think she was just unloading stolen goods and holing up for a while. She likes casinos but not the boats so much that are around there. They’re mainly hangouts for the senior citizens and tourist crowd. Only good for a little pickpocket action. Not her usual gig. She mostly hangs out where she can latch on to somebody, likes the horse and dog tracks. The big question is, which way did she go? I already marked the tracks around Nashville on a map for you. Kentucky, Florida, Louisiana, or Texas, baby. I think the last two. I betcha dollars ta donuts, she didn’t go to Louisville and is probably in Bossier City, Louisiana, right now. More racetracks comin’ back this way toward Texas.”

Gage washed his hands while looking in the mirror. Man, he looked like shit. After downing two aspirin, he opened the door and headed to the kitchen to put some coffee on. Again, with Cheryl following close behind.

“Dad gave me another file. Said to pick this guy up before you leave. He said some other stuff too, but I...uh...don’t need to repeat the rest.”

No doubt. “Your dad is not the only guy I work for. I gotta check in with Tanner too.”

“News travels fast. Tanner called to rub in your mistake just before Dad said all that other stuff I didn’t repeat.” She then quipped, “What you gotta do is fix this Morgan thing. Dad’ll be really pissed at you if this bond runs out and he takes a really embarrassing double hit. He’s out a groveling apology, a chunk of spare change, bus ticket, and some reputation skin off his ass. And you’re out plenty of dough too, aren’t ya?”

He closed his eyes and rolled his neck to get the kinks out. He could give a fuck less about the money. What he needed to do was fix his wrong with Danica. He loaded the coffee pot and flicked it on, then headed to the shower with Cheryl chattering right behind.

“I gotta go. I’ll put the files on the table along with the map I marked. I’ll even call security at the race tracks in Bossier City and Vinton and ask about any reports of theft.”

He turned and kissed her on the cheek. “Appreciate it.”

She smiled and gave him a wink. “I do what I can. After you find that Morgan chick, you can go do your own groveling to that Danica girl.”

“Good-bye, Cheryl. Unless you want to shower with me?” He ended with a mischievous grin.

“Yikes! With you and that big snake? I’m outta here, pal.” She said as she went, throwing an eyebrow waggle back at him, “You’re pretty hot and all, but I don’t think Dad would appreciate me boinkin’ the help. I could hurt ya.”

About the Author

Mandy Colton is from Louisville, KY, and lives a very quiet life with her husband and teenage son. A fan of romance, fun adventure, drama, humor, and on occasion, sci-fi stories. Her first book, Way to Go, and the continuing series came from her years, own adventures and experiences working in the travel industry.
   
Although she’s a great fan of the human imagination, she is also of the opinion that there are just no better stories than those that involve a bit of true life.

If you like my books, please review on Amazon or Goodreads. Subscribe for notifications on future new releases!

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Giveaway
Mandy will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Doc's Codicil by Gary F. Jones - Book Tour and Giveaway

About the Book


When Wisconsin veterinarian Doc dies, his family learns that to inherit his fortune, they must decipher the cryptic codicil he added to his will—“Take Doofus squirrel-fishing”—and they can
only do that by talking to Doc’s friends, reading the memoir Doc wrote of a Christmas season decades earlier, searching through Doc’s correspondence, and discovering clues around them. Humor abounds as this mismatched lot tries to find time in their hectic lives to work together to solve the puzzle. In the end, will they realize that fortune comes in many guises?

Doc’s Codicil is a mystery told with gentle humor. It tells the story of a veterinarian who teaches his heirs a lesson from the grave.

Excerpt

The house was dark except for the pool of light thrown by a lamp behind my chair and small multi-colored Christmas lights surrounding the window on my left. The lights gave a dim but cheerful glow to the edge of the room. The crystal, silver, and pastel globes on the Christmas tree standing against the opposite wall reflected that light, and as the furnace kicked in, the reflections danced across the wall, betraying currents of warm air moving gently about the room.

Heat, wonderful heat. I gave my wine glass a twist to celebrate feeling my toes again. The liquid ruby swirled round the glass, as I offered a silent toast to Mary, may she sleep soundly tonight. On the second glass, I was startled by a swoosh of air exhaled by the cushion of a wing-backed chair to my left. I glanced at the chair, but couldn’t bring it into focus. Contacts must be dirty, I thought and returned to my book. 

I . . . poured a third glass. This had to be the last. Tomorrow would be another fourteen-hour workday. I took another bite of Stilton, crumbly yet creamy, a pungent and savory blue with a background of cheddar, when I heard a throat clear. 

I put my book down and looked around the room. Empty.

. . .  A shadow moved in the dining room . . . “Who’s there? What the hell is going on?” I whispered. 

A man’s voice came from the kitchen. “Cripes, some host you are.”

Interview

Where did you get the idea for your most recent book?

The book sprang from two questions I posed for myself: how could I explain to a child the adult stupidity behind public and private actions that show up on the evening news, and how could a father in retirement get his adult children to listen to lessons he’d like to teach them? Neither are easy tasks. For the child, I thought something like the tooth fairy, sort of a fairy of bad decisions, might go a long way to explaining some things, and to make adult children listen, I thought of a codicil attached to a will. There’s nothing like an inheritance to get the attention of children in their thirties.

Tell us about the cover and the inspiration for it.

The cover was inspired by two characters in the book and Christmas. Doofus, the patron fairy of bad judgement and wishful thinking, advisor to presidents and councilor to kings, takes center stage in the book and on the cover. A Christmas tree is in the background, as much of the book takes place shortly before or after Christmas, and what goes on in a misguided “living nativity” is an important subplot. Gladys, a camel with attitude, peeks from behind the tree. She is one of my favorite characters in the living nativity.

Do you think that the cover plays an important part in the buying process?

Given how crowded the shelves of bookstores are, a cover that grabs the eye is almost a necessity. It could do it by color, by pictures, or even by an unusual font, but there has to be something to attract the attention of potential readers.

Do you have any pets? 

As I was growing up, I had cattle and horses, but they weren’t what most people think of as pets.

We have a one year old toy poodle. He demands attention and is quick to make off with things he knows will get a reaction if he doesn’t get it. So far he has chewed up two pair of prescription glasses and too many pens and pencils to count.

What are four things you can’t live without? 

Life wouldn’t be much fun without dark chocolate, books, air conditioning, and aspirin. I love dark chocolate and books. Enough said. I lived most of my life in cold climates and now live in a much warmer temperature zone. Air conditioning is indispensable for me. Between my knees and my back, there are days I wouldn’t be able to walk without aspirin. There isn’t much articular cartilage left in my knees and I’ve had two ruptured discs in my back.

What are your future ambitions?

I have a manuscript I’m working on and another book of mine was recently published. I hope to write a screenplay for the chapters of the nativity pageant in Doc’s Codicil. People tell me that one of the final scenes in the pageant made them laugh until tears ran down their cheeks. A reader in Florida sent me an email claiming he could only read a page at a time. His ribs hurt too much from laughing.

Anything else you might want to add?

Doc’s Codicil is a silly book about serious subjects: family, ethics, how to think, and how to approach life. I learned a lot about myself while writing it, and reviewers have told me I put more of myself in the book than I’d realized.

Thanks...

About the Author

According to Gary Jones, his life has been a testament to questionable decisions and wishful thinking. His wife of forty years, however, says she knows of nothing in the record to justify such unfettered optimism. Jones says the book is a work of fiction; that's his story, and he’s sticking to it.
He’s part of the last generation of rural veterinarians who worked with cows that had names and personalities, and with dairymen who worked in the barn with their families. He’s also one of those baby boomers, crusty codgers who are writing their wills and grousing about kids who can be damned condescending at times.

Gary practiced bovine medicine in rural Wisconsin for nineteen years. He then returned to graduate school at the University of Minnesota, earned a PhD in microbiology, and spent the next nineteen years working on the development of bovine and swine vaccines.

Doc's Codicil is the bronze medal winner of Foreward's INDIEFAB Book of The Year awards, humor category.

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Giveaway
Gary F. Jones will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Prism by Matthew D. Ryan - Book Blast and Giveaway

About the Book



In the mystical realm of the Cavern, Akarra is Shardshaper to the quartzian people who inhabit it. Fashioned from quartz and filled with enchanted light, the quartzians are a strong and hearty people. Akarra is no exception. But when destiny intervenes, she must choose between the he-quartz she loves and the life path she lives for. Which shall she choose?

Excerpt

Akarra knelt expectantly on the floor near the back corner of Yridia’s Cave.

“Pattern matching is most important, dear,” Yridia said.

“I know, Mistress Shardshaper,” Akarra replied, head bowed in deference. “You’ve told me so—many times—but I just don’t see the use of geometry.” She was tired; it had been a long training session and she still wasn’t through.

The small but cozy cave—one in which she had spent many long hours engaged in study—had been hollowed out in the shape of a twelve-sided figure of exquisite design—a dodecahedron, it was called. It at once conveyed a sense of space, mystery, and power. Much like the element it represented: the ether. Each of the twelve faces of the shape formed a perfect pentagon—a five sided figure of further significance and meaning. The pentagon-shaped floor, of course, was made of clouded white quartz; the ceiling, clear. The pentagons on the walls alternated between white and clear. There were no cracks or fissures or blemishes; all the angles and divisions were neat, clean, and precise, thus regulating the temperature of the room perfectly. As Akarra perused the features of the cave, she felt contentment and peace, and her antennae glowed a pale greenish yellow in response. This was like a second home for her. She was the apprentice Shardshaper. One of the most respected members of the tribe.

Akarra watched Yridia move to the center of the pentagon floor and squat down in front of her. Yridai’s yenshi robe billowed out and she produced a crystal of transparent blue quartz in the shape of a perfect tetrahedron. Her Heartshard. A piece of the Heart Crystal itself, the source of the Shardshaper’s power.

Akarra could feel the Shard’s presence.

About the Author

Matthew D. Ryan is a published author living in upstate New York on the shores of Lake Champlain. His work has been featured on-line at Aphelion.com and YesteryearFiction.com. He has been deeply involved in the fantasy genre for most of his life as a reader, writer, and game designer. He is the operator of the web-site matthewdryan.com which features his blog, “A Toast to Dragons,” a blog dedicated to fantasy literature, and, to a lesser extent, sci-fi. Mr. Ryan says he receives his inspiration from his many years as an avid role-player and fantasy book reader. He has spent many long hours devising adventures and story-lines as well as gaming systems for role-playing games, playing a motley assortment of characters in RPG worlds, as well as digesting the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Jordan, and others. As a result, he has great depth of experience in the fantasy genre and feels it was a natural shift for him to move into fantasy writing.

Mr. Ryan is the author of the exciting dark fantasy novel, Drasmyr, The Children of Lubrochius, and The Sceptre of Morgulan, as well as a growing number of short stories. His first novel, Drasmyr, won the book of the month award on Long and Short Reviews: Young Adult for the month of September 2012. The story features a traditional Dracula type vampire in a Middle-Earth type setting. It is a dark fantasy geared toward teens and adults that has consistently earned reviews in the four and five star range. Drasmyr serves as the prequel to his series: From the Ashes of Ruin. In addition to Drasmyr, The Children of Lubrochius, and The Sceptre of Morgulan, Mr. Ryan has published several short stories on-line, including: “Haladryn and the Minotaur”(published at the now defunct Pegasus On-line), “The River’s Eye”(published at YesteryearFiction.com) , “Escape”(published at Aphelion.com), and the three-story collection Of Dragons, Love, and Poison.. His latest work is the stand-alone novella “Prism,” a startling fantasy story of unique character. He has also spoken on the topic of “World-Building” utilizing his considerable experience as an author and game-designer. When not engrossed in his fantasy worlds, Mr. Ryan can be found volunteering at the local food shelf or playing with his cat, “Confucius,” who is as wise and wily as his name suggests.

Author Links:

   

Giveaway
Matthew will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Portraits of the Dead by John Nicholl - Book Tour and Giveaway

About the Book


Emma didn’t know how long he hid, silent and unmoving, in the large Victorian wardrobe to the side of her single bed. She didn’t know how long he peered out, salivating and drooling, between the two heavy dark oak doors, and watched, mesmerised, as she slowly drifted into fitful sleep. She didn't know what time he pushed the doors open and crept towards her in the drab grey darkness of the night.

Detective Inspector Gravel finds himself floundering when a local nineteen-year-old university student is abducted and imprisoned by a sadistic serial killer, who has already tortured and killed five young women.

A gripping page-turner of a serial killer thriller packed with suspense. If you like Rachel Abbott, Robert Bryndza and Karin Slaughter, discover John Nicholl’s chilling new thriller today.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

2:20 A.M. Saturday, 2 May 1998

Emma didn’t know how long he hid, silent and unmoving, in the large Victorian wardrobe to the side of her single bed. She didn’t know how long he peered, salivating and drooling, between the two heavy dark oak doors and watched, mesmerised, as she slowly drifted into fitful sleep. She didn’t know what time he pushed the doors open and crept towards her in the drab grey darkness of the night. But he did. She knew that he did.

  

Emma woke with a start, tense, alert, and opened her bleary eyes, telling herself insistently that the dark silhouette slowly approaching her was the nightmare construct of her subconscious mind. But initial anxiety became blind panic as the inky shadow took on an obvious human form that suddenly gained pace and loomed over her. And then a hand, a large hot clammy hand, pulled the bedclothes over her head, clamped her mouth tight shut and silenced her scream before it materialised.

  

A myriad unwelcome thoughts invaded her troubled mind as he pinned her head to the pillow and raised his free arm high above his head, before closing his fingers tightly, forming his hand into a formidable weapon and bringing it crashing down, again and again and again, with all the force he could muster, rendering her unconscious and bleeding.

  

She didn’t know how long she remained senseless, or what he did to her while she slept. She didn’t know what time he lifted her from her bed and carried her from her student bedroom, down the creaking wooden staircase and out into the Welsh city street. But he did. She knew that he did.

About the Author

John Nicholl, an ex-police officer, child protection social worker, manager and lecturer, has written three dark psychological suspense thrillers, each of which are Amazon international bestsellers, reaching # 1 in multiple categories in the United Kingdom, France, Spain, Australia, Canada and the USA. John is always happy to hear from readers, bloggers or anyone interested in proposing a joint creative project.

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Giveaway
One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.

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