Tag Archives: Virtual Book Tour Cafe

The Ferryman

Title: The Ferryman

Author Name: Amy Neftzger

Author Bio:

Short Bio: Amy Neftzger published her first fiction book Conversations with the Moon in 2003. Since then she has published books for both children and adults, including All that the Dog Ever Wanted, Bedtime Stories for Dogs, Bedtime Stories for Cats, Leftover shorts, Confessions From a Moving Van, The Orphanage of Miracles, and The Ferryman. She lives in Nashville with her family and pet gargoyle Newton.

Long Bio:Amy Neftzger (born June 23) is an American researcher and author who has published fiction books, non-fiction books, business articles, and peer review research. Her works have reached an international audience.

Amy was born in Illinois and graduated from Elk Grove High School in Elk Grove Village, Illinois. She received her bachelors degree from the University of North Florida in Jacksonville, Florida and her Masters in Industrial/ Organizational Psychology from Middle Tennessee State University in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. She graduated from both Universities with honors.

She has written numerous business and journal articles, but her fiction works have been the most commercially successful. In 2003 she published Conversations with the Moon, which was also translated into Korean and published in South Korea. In 2005 she collaborated with her husband, guitarist Tyra Neftzger on a children’s book called “All that the Dog Ever Wanted.” The book was designed to introduce children to jazz music at an early age and included a CD sampler of jazz tunes. In 2007 she worked as an editor on a business fable called “The Damned Company.” She’s also written “Confessions From a Moving Van” and “Leftover Shorts.”

In 2013, Amy released her first Young Adult book called “The Orphanage of Miracles.” The sequel to this book, “The Orchard of Hope” is scheduled for release in June of 2014, and The Ferryman (adult fiction) is scheduled for release in October, 2014.

Author Links –

Book Genre: Fiction/ Fantasy

Publisher: Fields of Gold Publishing (Imprint: Fog Ink)

Release Date: 10/07/2014

Book Description:

Like most large career moves, this one happened by accident. Karen spent a lot of time planning what she was going to do with her life, but Fate had other plans for her, as she often does for most of us. Karen just happened to rob the wrong grave.


You won’t find what you’re looking for here,”Fate said loudly. Karen jumped at the sound of Fate’s voice and dropped the book she was reading onto the library table. Fate was smartly dressed in camel colored tweed pants and a brown asymmetrical sweater over a cream colored shell. Her nails were perfectly manicured with bright red polish, and they looked like tulip petals fluttering in the wind each time she moved her hands as she was speaking.

Although she had been looking forward to Fate’s appearance, Karen was still startled by the abruptness of her entrance. Karen took a slow, deep breath to steady herself as she flipped the cover of the book closed.

There are less dramatic ways to enter a room,”Karen whispered coldly. The ghost of a librarian put her finger to her lips as she glared at Karen. Her dress was at least twenty years out of date, and she wore a large scarf around her neck. Karen thought it was odd how none of the living librarians noticed Karen or Fate, since Fate was so loud.

I can be subtle when I want,”Fate replied. “In fact, I can be so discreet that people don’t even know I’m present until I’m gone. I’m like the wake of a schooner on a calm sea, rustling floating bathers into a wave of understanding.”

How poetic,”Karen said.“What is it that you think I’m looking for?”

A way out of your contract,”Fate replied. “But there isn’t one. It’s a solid deal.”

So you say.”

And what I say is all that matters here.”

Karen narrowed her eyes at Fate.“Look,”she said after a few moments,“we’re not friends. In fact, I don’t think that we like each other very much. So why don’t we simply go our separate ways? There’s no need to continue this relationship. We can part amicably.”

Fate laughed in an unfriendly manner as she placed one of her gloved hands to her own throat. Karen looked around, but no one else heard or was bothered by Fate’s uproar. Even the librarian’s ghost was more concerned with the whispering of other patrons as she floated around to scold them. The patrons continued their activities, no matter how closely the librarian leaned into their conversations to admonish them. After a few moments Fate’s laughter slowed, and she lowered her hand to place it on her hip, moving her dark green suede jacket aside in order to do so.

I know you think I don’t like you, but I do. Very much. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Fate said with a too-bright smile.

That’s odd, because from my perspective I think that if you liked me, I wouldn’t be here.”

My perspective is the only one that matters,”Fate replied flatly. “When you control the future, you might have a say.”

That hardly seems fair,”Karen shot back.

“‘Fair’is a word I choose not to keep in my vocabulary,”Fate replied. Just then the ghost of the librarian swooped down upon Karen and hovered above her. It felt as if she had brought a cold draft with her, and Karen shivered. When she looked up, Karen noticed the marks on her neck and wondered if the ghost had been strangled or hung herself. It was difficult to see the bruising behind the printed scarf, but the marks were there and Karen glimpsed sight of it more than once.

I don’t expect her to behave,”the librarian hissed as she pointed her thumb at Fate, “but I do expect a bit more from the living. Respect the library. Be quiet or leave!”



September 21 – Introduction at VBT Café Blog

September 23 – Guest Blogging at Coffee, Books & Art

September 25 – Spotlight at Deal Sharing Aunt

September 25 – Guest Blogging at The Writer’s Revolution

September 25 – Guest Blogging at Mythical Books

September 30 – Guest Blogging at Lori’s Reading Corner

October 2 – Spotlight at Black Lilac Kitty

October 7 – Guest Blogging at The Avid Reader

October 9 – Spotlight at Black Coffee, Brown Cow

October 13 – Review & Interview at platypire Reviews

October 15 – Spotlight at 4 Covert 2 Overt A Place In The Spotlight

October 17 – Review & Guest Blog at My Life, Loves and Passions

October 17 – Reviewed at I Feel The Need, The Need To Read

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The Ferryman
Name: Amy Neftzger


Amy Neftzger published her first fiction book Conversations with the
Moon in 2003. Since then she has published books for both children
and adults, including All that the Dog Ever Wanted, Bedtime Stories
for Dogs, Bedtime Stories for Cats, Leftover shorts, Confessions From
a Moving Van, The Orphanage of Miracles, and The Ferryman. She lives
in Nashville with her family and pet gargoyle Newton.
Neftzger (born June 23) is an American researcher and author who has
published fiction books, non-fiction books, business articles, and
peer review research. Her works have reached an international
was born in Illinois and graduated from Elk Grove High School in Elk
Grove Village, Illinois. She received her bachelors degree from the
University of North Florida in Jacksonville, Florida and her Masters
in Industrial/ Organizational Psychology from Middle Tennessee State
University in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. She graduated from both
Universities with honors.
has written numerous business and journal articles, but her fiction
works have been the most commercially successful. In 2003 she
published Conversations with the Moon, which was also translated into
Korean and published in South Korea. In 2005 she collaborated with
her husband, guitarist Tyra Neftzger on a children’s book called “All
that the Dog Ever Wanted.” The book was designed to introduce
children to jazz music at an early age and included a CD sampler of
jazz tunes. In 2007 she worked as an editor on a business fable
called “The Damned Company.” She’s also written
“Confessions From a Moving Van” and “Leftover Shorts.”
2013, Amy released her first Young Adult book called “The
Orphanage of Miracles.” The sequel to this book, “The
Orchard of Hope” is scheduled for release in June of 2014, and
The Ferryman (adult fiction) is scheduled for release in October,
Links – 
Genre: Fiction/ Fantasy
Fields of Gold Publishing (Imprint: Fog Ink)
Date: 10/07/2014
most large career moves, this one happened by accident. Karen spent a
lot of time planning what she was going to do with her life, but Fate
had other plans for her, as she often does for most of us. Karen just
happened to rob the wrong grave.

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Filed under Authors, Books, Fantasy, Fiction, Genre

Motherhood is Chaotic


Filed under Authors, Books, Non-Fiction

Will She Burn at the Stake?


Book Genre: Paranormal/New AgePublisher: Pagan Writers Press

Release Date: November 27, 2013

Buy Link(s): Amazon

Book Description: It’s her last summer before going away to college and Fiona finds herself facing more than she bargained for: A boyfriend she doesn’t want who has a strange hold over her, a friend pushing her to expand her boundaries, and a new guy named Ted whose presence is more than a distraction.

If that isn’t enough, Fiona is being haunted with horrifying nightmares of burning at the stake—nightmares so real, she feels as though she’s losing her mid.

Are they only dreams, or are they trying to warn her about this new guy she can’t help but want?


Author Bio: Short Bio: Jamie White is a music addict, book lover, pet servant & NaNoWriMo survivor. When she’s not busy writing posts for CultureShock, she’s taking pictures for her photo blog and spending time with her husband and pets. She released Stains on the Soul and Clutter via Pagan Writers Press in 2013.Long Bio: Jamie White is an author, blogger, photo geek, music addict, editor, pop culture geek, paranormal junkie, and a pet servant.

She spent more than a decade as a Journalism student, geeking out over Pagemaker, layout design, and other stuff.

In college, she took it a step further and became the only student to be on all three of her college’s publications, serving as Editor-In-Chief for two of them. Later, she went on to freelance writing and blogging.

Jamie began her journey into fiction writing in 2010 after joining a writing group. Since that first meeting, she has completed a bunch of short stories, five manuscripts, and several in progress. Her first novel, The Life and Times of No One In Particular, was released in 2012. She followed it up with a story in the Lyrical Muse Anthology in 2013. The end of 2013 will see two releases with Pagan Writers Press.

When Jamie’s not writing or blogging, she takes pictures, meditates, practices Reiki and chanting, watches favorite shows/movies, takes walks, and serves as a volunteer for the Florida Writers Association by running their social media and a writing group (Gulfstream Writers).

Social Links:










Filed under Authors, Books, e-books, Genre, New Age, Paranormal

Yancy Caruthers on Tour


Yancy Caruthers (1971- ) grew up in Alton, MO, and joined the Army Reserves at 17. He became a nurse, and worked in several areas until finding a passion in emergency medicine, which ultimately led to a job with an air ambulance company. He served in Iraq two different times, and retired from the Army as a Captain.

After this experience, he decided to leave the medical profession and pursue other endeavors. He has now lived on three continents, and is hoping to reside on at least three more. He currently lives with his family in Nassau, The Bahamas.


Author Links –




Book Genre: Memoir, Military/Medical71Y0ONAIsbL._SL1500_

Publisher: Independent (CreateSpace and Kindle Direct Publishing)

Release Date: eBook April 2014, paperback May 2014

Buy Link(s):



Book Description: Northwest of Eden is the author’s first person account of his experience during Operation Iraqi Freedom as second-in-command of an Army emergency department and leader of an air transport team. The varied cast of characters provides top-notch medical care to service members in harsh conditions, while wielding the darkest humor against each other just to stay sane. Most of the time they succeeded…


When it finally came time to roll the bad guy over and look at his back, we found the wound that should have killed him. A bullet had entered over his right shoulder blade, then taken an unexpected right turn and followed the surface of the bone. It had skipped out without entering his chest, but had taken a fist-sized chunk of meat along with it. The hole had been packed with a bandage roll, but it wasn’t bleeding or bubbling, so I shoved a fresh wad of gauze into it and we rolled him flat again.

I turned my attention to the room’s other occupant, a soldier who wore a dusty pale green uniform and wore the 4th Infantry patch on his shoulder.

So what exactly happened to this guy?” I asked.

The soldier exhaled sharply, and acted a bit bothered that I had asked, but he relayed the story that two guys had been spotted trying to set a roadside bomb, but had fled once they realized they had been discovered. Troops had pursued, and had ultimately cornered the two bad guys in a tiny house in a cluster of tiny houses.

When cornered the insurgents had fired back at the patrol with AK-47s, which is generally a bad idea, but these two hadn’t read the insurgent manual. When friendlies returned fire (which isn’t very friendly if you think about it) the two gentlemen had taken off out the back door.

One of them now wore a blindfold, and lay paralyzed and sedated in our trauma room, having been shot three times by some fairly pissed-off infantry troops. When he awoke, he would not be allowed to see his surroundings, or get a feel for the layout of the hospital. Those caring for him would have nametags removed, as it was a favorite habit of insurgents to pass all sorts of information using a soldier’s name, or make various allegations.

It was different, not like treating a drunk driver or sex offender back home, but trying to give good care to a man who wanted me dead, and would be certain to try if the opportunity presented itself. It was a game changer. I started every IV with a pistol on my hip.

I looked back at the corporal. He stood about five four, a good six inches shorter than me, and a full foot less than the guy on the recruiting poster. His arms were thick, but he still wore medium sized armor. I thought mine was bad enough, but this guy had additional Kevlar panels that covered each side of his torso. The plates alone probably added twelve more pounds. His short rifle was slung to his chest, but his right hand stayed draped over the pistol grip, index finger straight and off the trigger, but close enough.

The conspicuous thirty round magazine protruding from the bottom was something my soldiers only carried in their pocket, assuming they remembered it at all, and only unloaded it once a month to keep the spring from going bad.

I wondered how much of this kid’s adult life had been spent in a war zone. If I had been a bartender, I would have asked him for an ID. He might have been nineteen or twenty. He had dark eyes and dark hair, with fair, flawless skin. I speculated about his heritage, as he was some amalgam of two or three different origins. His mouth turned up slightly at one corner, in a kind of a permanent smirk. I had worked long enough in a profession dominated by females to know what women find attractive, and this guy was it. Had he been six feet tall, he would have had a group of nurses following him around.

What I wouldn’t have called him, however, was vibrant. He moved his head very slowly and deliberately, and his eyes never left his prisoner. I wasn’t sure he had even blinked. He reminded me of a coiled snake.

I decided to try some obnoxious humor. “Somebody need to go back and teach some marksmanship. This guy is shot three times with only one hit center mass.”

I expected a half-hearted grin or part of a laugh. The soldier just kept staring at his charge. His look softened a little, and his reply was deferential.

I don’t know what their problem was, sir,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I killed the other guy. They didn’t shoot him enough times, I guess.”

There it was. He wasn’t responding to my joke, he was actually trying to explain why my patient was still alive. Except for the words themselves, it was normal conversation, and flowed as smoothly as the answer I would have gotten if I had asked him whether or not he had eaten chow today.


June 15 – Introduction at VBT Café Blog
June 16 – Spotlight at 4 Covert 2 Overt A Place In The Spotlight
June 16 – Guest Blogging at Infinite House of Books
June 18 – Spotlight at Musings of a Book Maven
June 20 – 5 Things I Know For Sure at CAT Magazine
June 24 – Interviewed at Pubslush
June 26 – 6 Besties at BK Walker Books
June 28 – Reviewed at My Life, Loves, and Passions
June 30 – Reviewed at Mythical Books
July 2 – Reviewed at Debbie Jeans
July 4 – Interviewed at Ghost Rider Book Promotions
July 7 – Spotlight at Black Lilac Kitty
July 9 – Reviewed at Deal Sharing Aunt
July 11 – Guest Blogging at Lori’s Reading Corner


Filed under Authors, Books, Memoir

When God Is Silent


Author Bio:


Kellie Lane, a native of Lexington, MS is a passionate orator and writer of God’s spoken word. She is an author, motivational speaker, and professional life coach. Kellie has dedicated her life to the work of encouraging others to reach their maximum potential in Christ. Her message to the world is ” Don’t give up, push, pray, and persist ” until you reach the point of breakthrough. In addition to writing and speaking, Kellie serves our nation’s veterans a Family Nurse Practitioner.


Author Links – The link for any or all of the following…





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





Twitter: @kellieelane


Good reads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7353361.Kellie_Lane






Book Genre: self- help/inspirational,spiritual growth
Publisher: Creation House

Release Date: March 4, 2014

Buy: Amazon | Christian Books | BN | BooksAMillion

Book trailer:

Book Description:WHENGODISILENT_front

“When God is Silent” confirms through scripture that God indeed hears the cries of his elect and the broken hearted. The book explains to the reader why he or she may be waiting on the answers to their prayers and how to endure in a season of silence. It also reveals how to recognize “God’s answer” if he chooses to answer differently than what we anticipate. The take home message is “ Never Give up! Even if God is not talking he’s still listening”. We must learn to “push, pray, and persist” until we reach the point of breakthrough. God desires to give only the best to his children. We must understand this.

Excerpt Two:


Chapter 12

Alternate Ending

I believe that God’s gifts and blessings are

abundantly laid before us. Most of the time, it’s

up to us to find our way to them. God has done

His part and it’s up to us to complete the task.

—Arina Nikitina


Declaring the end from the beginning, and from

ancient times the things that are not yet done,

saying, my counsel shall stand, and I will do all my


—Isaiah 46:10

Have you ever walked away from a movie wishing

for an alternate ending? You watched in anticipation

with popcorn in hand. Then all of a sudden the script takes

an unexpected turn. You find yourself thinking, “This can’t

be the end! They could’ve done better than that!” Perhaps

the movie you watched was a sequel to your favorite

movie. Your expectations were set high. You rushed out

and bought tickets early. You waited in line out in the cold

for hours without one murmur or complaint. Yet you left


the theater unfulfilled. Thank God that this only happens

in movies, right? Well, maybe.

Ponder this question for a moment. What happens when

the script of your life takes an unexpected turn? You know,

when life throws you a curve ball? Perhaps you had it all

planned out. You would marry the perfect person, raise

the perfect family, live in the perfect home, enjoy perfect

health, and enjoy the best job on earth. But then something

happened. You didn’t see it coming. Everything was

going just fine, and then all of a sudden without warning

the bottom fell out. All of your hopes and dreams traveled

south and you found your life in a mess.

Perhaps that once so perfect marriage turned into hell

on earth right before your eyes and you were faced with the

embarrassment of divorce. What happens when the once

so perfect job is now stressing you out beyond belief? What

do you do when your perfect child becomes not so perfect?

What happens when even those in your inner circle are

secretly planning your demise? Do you fold? Think about

it. What happens when you’d rather censor your personal

testimony than let others know about all of the hell that

you are actually going through? What do you do when

you’re doing everything you can to hold things together

and without sympathy the world keeps pounding on you.

Your heart is aching with disappointment; so many “what

ifs.” Had I only done this or done that. You feel defeated.

Yet those who want to see you fail are viscously leaning

over you trying to check a pulse. Do you accept it or do

you rise up out of your ashes so that God will get the glory

out of your story? Well, let me encourage you to rise up!



Filed under Authors, Books, Self-Help

Book Blast – Wizdom and Pandora



About The Author:

A lifetime resident of the Washington, DC area, K.M. Woodard has always enjoyed the outdoors and loves to travel. After working 17 years with the MetLife Insurance Company, she pursued her career as a Federal Law Enforcement Agent with Homeland Security and has a Masters Degree in Criminology. A true Tolkien fan, her passion for medieval and ancient times and her personal travel adventures often inspire ideas for new books. Her active imagination and fascination with escaping reality to a world of enchantment, mystery and suspense has resulted in a series of novels sure to delight readers looking for fast-paced adventure at every twist and turn, interspersed with a smidgen of humor.


Author Links –


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

Twitter: @wizdomandpandor

Goodreads member/blog: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7380415.K_M_Woodard

Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Wizdom-And-Pandora-Quest-Blood/dp/1468538020/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1400258256&sr=8-1&keywords=wizdom+and+pandora




Book Genre: Young Adult/Fiction/Fantasywizdom and pandora book cover

Publisher: Authorhouse

Release Date: 10/30/2014

Buy Link(s): AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/Wizdom-And-Pandora-Quest-Blood/dp/1468538020/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1400258256&sr=8-1&keywords=wizdom+and+pandora

AUTHORHOUSE: http://bookstore.authorhouse.com/Products/SKU-000536911/WIZDOM-AND-PANDORA.aspx


Book Description:

Wizdom didn’t know dragons really existed. He’s never ridden a white woolly mammoth or flown on a griffin. He’s never known a real king or a princess or been friends with a goblin. Wizdom’s never seen elves that glow blue all the time. All he’s ever known are his adoptive mother and his aunt Kayden. One day he finds himself in a secret world, face to face with dragons and fire monsters. He meets an interesting girl, Pandora, who he learns is no ordinary girl, just as he is no ordinary boy. Wizdom soon finds himself on a magical journey full of secrets, sorcery, danger and evil. He fights many fierce battles and faces certain death as his quest leads him on an adventure like never before as he discovers his true identity . . . or does he?


At the end of the day as the sun burned bright red in the violet

and crimson sky, they reached the edge of Saldor and were entering the

Realm of Talagand. The land grew heavier and the ground underfoot

was much rockier. There were colossal boulders strewn about, making

it difficult for the mammoths to continue on, as they could barely fit

between them. The mountains grew nearer and went high above the

clouds, their jagged peaks thrusting sharply upward, almost unnaturally.

Wizdom stared up at them having never before seen anything quite

like them. They were truly imposing and creepy. As they traveled on,

the clouds intensified as the sun tried to peek out between them.

Suddenly, as they were walking, a loud roar was heard in the sky

above them. “DRAGONS!” shouted Pandora hysterically. “Merle!” she

yelled desperately.

Quickly, Merle put up a force field, but there were too many

dragons. There were nearly twenty all together. Pandora even

recognized some of them. She had seen them in friendlier days, before

Lord Bregolien had put them under his evil spell. They flew over head

shooting fire and swooping down low trying frantically to grasp them

in their deadly claws. One large, fierce, green dragon came very close to

catching Rupert’s mammoth in its talons, but only managed to snatch a claw full of white hair.

Wow, did you see that, brother?” Rupert said excitedly to Merle.

He almost got me!” Suddenly, the same dragon came in for another

dive. “Look out!” Rupert shouted to Merle.

But Merle was ready. He had his force field up like a shield and

Puck and Wizdom were right next to him on their mammoth, Puck

joining forces to make the force field stronger. The dragon crashed into

it with a loud thud before recovering and flying back to the rest of the

dragons circling overhead, readying for another strike.

As Wizdom, Puck and Merle recovered from the sonic boom

created by the dragon’s impact on the force field, they realized all the

woolly mammoths had turned and faced together in a circle, while

their companions were still sitting on their backs. “Hold on!” Willow

said to Wizdom silently.

Hold on!” he yelled to the others, as Puck looked at him frightfully…





Filed under Uncategorized

Counterfeit Youth by Narbeh Avanessian



Narbeh Avanessian lives in Los Angeles as a freelance writer and marketing professional. Narbeh Profile PicHe spends his free time writing science fiction and studying video games.


Author Links –






Book Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: Self-published

Release Date: April 28, 2014

Buy Link(s):


Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Counterfeit-Youth-Narbeh-Avanessian-ebook/dp/B00K0QR7Y6


iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/counterfeit-youth/id874926895?mt=11


Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/counterfeit-youth-narbeh-avanessian/1119379259?ean=2940149175413



Book Description:


What does the man who has everything want? The answer is simple: for it to never end. Jackson Riley is a young billionaire living in the year 2052 with a single obsession – to discover immortality within his lifetime. But what happens when this obsession tears him apart from reality and his one true love Nicole? And why have untraceable special agents taken an interest in his medical experiments? Counterfeit Youth is an emotionally charged sci-fi thriller that explores the concept of happiness, and what it means to live forever.


October 7th, 2052

Manhattan Beach was still considered a California oasis. It was not filled with the typical electro-chauffeurs that drove inches apart from each other; these compact cars were present only in the large cities. The town was a relic from the past, with human drivers, and with the sensorless roads it was known for in the past half-century.

As the sun further ascended, the shades of fall were captured by the magenta paint of the Alexander Estate. The estate rested at the far end of the shore and resembled a feudal lord’s castle, with timeless limestone cladding the main building. A surrounding outer brick wall began thirty yards in front of the house and went all the way around the five-acre backyard, inexplicably enclosing Jackson Riley from the shoreline. The adoption of stained-glass windows, the lack of archers to employ, and the mistake of not including a moat and drawbridge retired the mind back to present day. Midnight had arrived.

The phantom figure of a man dressed in a black, reflective hoodie materialized in the beach town. The figure, scarcely visible, was walking on the road that led to the estate. The rustling of sand on asphalt beneath shoes was unavoidable. Nevertheless, the figure was somehow inaudible; proceeding with sharp, calculated steps.

As he came within visual range of the estate, the phantom’s demeanor noticeably altered. He moved with steps strange and sudden. Only the figure’s scarce outline now was visible as the hoodie, pants, and shoes seemed to flash reflectively. Three middle-aged men sat in a covered security post right by the entrance gate. They had several flex monitors at which they took occasional glances in between watching a streaming football game; they didn’t notice the outline of a man pass by. The figure cleared the eight-foot brick wall surrounding the estate with alarming ease. He landed and remained still and crouched. His image immediately blended in with the gray bricks behind him, hiding his body once again. Slight visual distortions appeared when he moved, only hinting at his current position.

A microchip one tenth of the size of a needle-head was implanted in the shrouded man’s left shoulder. With the application of proper decryption devices, the chip would identify his name: Special Agent Michael Turner.

The lights of the building revealed the detective’s face for a half-second as he entered the estate through the side door. The face had smart-looking eyes and was glistening with a layer of sweat. Just as Michael had presumed, he found himself alone inside.

The entrance revealed an eighty-foot-high ceiling and the floor consisted of black marble, large enough to host weddings as a grand ballroom. The stairs were covered in Persian carpets that led to the second and third stories of the estate. The agent sprinted up to the second floor and into a narrow hallway, which contained a black, spiraling, ladder-like stairway. He climbed, his sprinting speed constantly increasing. The steps of the stairway were peppered with the same large gaps found in the fire escapes of buildings, but Agent Turner traversed them at a dangerous-looking speed.

The library room was over two-thousand square feet of endless shelves and pathways. Painted black wood shelves twenty feet high obscured the agent’s view. Most of the books in these shelves enjoyed hard-covered rose leather bindings, first and second editions. The extensive collection and massive room could have passed as an old university library.

Michael arrived at his predetermined section near the far left end of the wall. Above the shelf, a small bold-faced font read: History. He pushed in the bookshelf. Nothing happened. He tapped all the books on the shelf with a palm slap that had immense force behind it. The history shelf began rotating to reveal a room that belonged to Alexander’s only son, Jackson Riley. A security siren instantly began to blare. Another layer of sweat spread across Agent Turner’s face as he walked inside.



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Filed under Authors, Books, Fiction, Thriller

Author, Bob Mustin on tour


Bob Mustin was born in Louisiana, USA. He attended the U.S. Naval Academy, Louisiana Tech University, and the University of North Carolina, Asheville. He holds a BS degree in Civil Engineering from La Tech and a Master of Liberal Arts degree with an emphasis on creative writing from UNC-Asheville.

He has worked in Georgia, USA, as a structural designer, specification writer, and transportation administrator. He has been an instructor in writing skills, and has served as a mentor. He’s also been a North Carolina Writers Network writer-in-residence at Peace College under the late Doris Betts. In the early ’90s, he was the editor of a small literary journal, The Rural Sophisticate, based in Georgia. His work has appeared in The Rockhurst Review, Elysian Fields Quarterly, Cooweescoowee, Under The Sun, Gihon River Review, Reflections Literary Journal, and at thesquaretable.com, raving dove, Sport Literate, The Externalist, Language and Culture, Imitation Fruit, and R.KV.R.Y in electronic form. A creative nonfiction piece won the North Carolina Writer’s Network Rose Post Award for Creative Non-Fiction in 2007.

He continues to write and publish novels, short fiction and non-fiction.

Book Genre: Literary, general fiction
Publisher: AuthorMike Ink Publishers
Release Date: March 2012
Buy: Amazon | BarnesandNoble | Kobo

Book Description:

Step inside Sam’s and you can play a game of eight ball, nurse a beer, or get to know a wayward preacher, a reformed hooker, an Iraq vet amputee – or Sam himself. You may watch a baby being born, see a deadly knife fight, or simply hear tall tales. But there’s always a rough-hewn truth within the lies, and Sam’s there to manage everything from birth to death with a righteous cant. All things considered, it isn’t a bad world. Sam’s Place is a collection of interwoven short stories that revolve around a local watering hole in the Alabama town of Striven. Pull up a chair and get to know the locals in this powerful and entertaining world that is Sam’s Place.


The scarlet and white neon sign hanging over the entry to Sam’s Place began to swing, adding its creaks to the cold front’s moan. As the sign swayed, crimson shadows swept to and fro over scalloped gravel in the pool hall’s parking lot. A rangy teen-aged boy slipped from the surrounding thicket of Alabama pine and into view, his tee shirt bleached to a luminous white by the lights of an approaching semi on the two-lane. He hurried past crumpled plastic beer cups aglow with the oncoming glare, his black, high-top canvas shoes skirting a thick, odorous pudding of puke. With little more than a glance, he passed a man and woman grinding out their lubricious urges against a pickup cab. Then he leaped and cleared the three tiers of cinderblock steps to the pool hall’s threshold and opened the door to a wedge of dim light.

Inside the long, one-room building sat eight felt-covered tables, a wide aisle separating the two rows of four. An oak bar at the opposite end filled most of the building’s width, a rear door to the left. Multicolored neon beer lights clung to the rear wall, bubbling and flashing, indifferent to all else. Fluorescent fixtures hung over the tables, suspended as if by some nocturnal alchemy, the light fixing ghostly images within layers of cigarette smoke.

A lanky man, shirttail out, leaned on his pool cue at the nearest table. Opposite him stood a short, bald man named Wilson, his dress shirt stained yellow at the armpits, its buttons straining to contain a drooping gut. A woman, Noxanne, her sweatshirt pushing I BAMA at the world, muttered irritably and glanced to Wilson. She cocked an ample hip, plumbed a pocket, and handed a gobbet of greenbacks to the lanky one. Along the plank wall adjacent to the front door, hangers-on watched, solemn as cigar store Indians, their smokes hanging from lips and fingers. The lanky man took Noxanne’s money, put up his cue, slipped past the boy who had just entered, and left.

Across the aisle, a tall, stoop-shouldered man in thinning suit pants and a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves scratched at his oily shock of graying hair, grinned, and approached his table.

“Two left,” he said. “Anybody want me to call ‘em?”

“No point to it, Slim,” said someone along the wall. ” You got too much mojo tonight.” Laughter slithered through smoke and darkness.

Slim looked to his opponent, who refused to retreat from the table. Slim jabbed his cue at two corner pockets and then slid his cigarette to the table’s edge. The cue ball clicked against one striped ball, then the other. The balls rumbled into their appointed pockets, and the cue ball rebounded away.

Slim’s opponent slammed a boot heel into the floor planking. Without a word, he broke down his cue, pulled on his coat, and departed.

“Shitfire,” someone whispered, voice tinged with awe, “you see that?”

Donnie, a short, snaggletoothed man of early middle age, offered to buy Slim a whiskey. Slim covered a cough and shook no, planted his cigarette in the thin line of his mouth, and grabbled a spray of twenties from the table’s edge. He peered into the shadows. “Anybody else got a game for me?”

“No fools here,” somebody said. Those around the spectator laughed – a staccato chorus of nervous praise.

Slim offered a wry smile. “Always some fool hoping to push you off the heap, though.” He dragged a Coke crate from against the nearby wall, stood it on end. Setting a foot on it, he leaned an elbow onto the up-bent knee and looked from face to face. “I ever tell y’all about that time in upper state New York? I was shooting with this fellow from Ohio, see? He come up to me, drunk as all get-out, bragging and waving money, so I said what the hell. Drunk as he was, he run the table on me nine straight times. Nine, I’m telling you!”

He spoke of finally beating the man, then of meeting him again in Minnesota, of playing him in the finals of a big tourney. Pausing, he licked spume from a corner of his mouth and spat a wad of dark phlegm to the plank floor.

“Did you whup ‘im in Duluth, Slim?” a beery voice asked.

“Damn right. I took him for his whole stake. But I’ll tell you what. If I ever see him again, I’ll just shake hands and ease out the door. I hear Lady Luck has been smiling real pretty for him lately.”

“Ah, you’d take him, Slim.”

“Maybe.” Slim laughed. “Well, hell, yeah, I’d probably do just that.”

The boy edged close. He reached deep and tossed a wadded bill onto Slim’s table.

Sam’s Place fell silent. All eyes turned.




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Multi-Culture Children’s Books

Genre: Children’s BookPublisher: Book Baby

Release Date: August 19, 2013

Buy: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Book Description:

Around the world teaches kids about different culture and what make us unique and special. The book will give shot of each characters’ lives and they will give us a glance of their country.


Genre: Children’s Book

Publisher: Outskirts Press

Release Date: December 13, 2013

Buy: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Book Description:

A wonderful book for ages 1-7 year of year. A boy named Tommy often forgets to say the magic words, but then he realizes how important those words are. Let Tommy remind us about those words in a fun and magic way!

Author Ana Koza lives with her husband and sons Ari and Eli in San Diego, California. She was raised in Guadalajara, Mexico. Interested in writing since she was in school, Ana is now writing two future books for children which she expects to publish later this year. More information about Ana and her books can be found at her author web site www.kidintheclouds.com. Her books are available at www.amazon.com and www.barnesandnoble.com and at book stores.

Author Links –

Website www.kidintheclouds.com.

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Ana-Koza/e/B00HX8RXAM/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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Missing from her mountain village

DISCLAIMER: This content is provided in its entirety by Virtual Book Tour Cafe to Blacklilackitty.wordpress.com.  No compensation has been received. This disclaimer is per the requirements of the Federal Trade Commission.

Title: Milk Fever

Author Name: Lissa M. Cowan

Lissa M. Cowan is the author of Milk Fever and founder of Writing the Body. She speaks and writes about storytelling, creativity, work-life balance and creative spirituality. She is a Huffington Post blogger and writes regularly for Canadian and U.S. magazines and newspapers.

She is co-translator of Words that Walk in the Night by Pierre Morency, one of Québec’s most honoured poets. She has been writing and telling stories in one form or another since she was six years old and has received awards for her writing from the University of Victoria’s Writing Department and from The Banff Centre. She is an alumna of The Banff Centre and The Victoria School of Writing. She has had some wonderfully talented teachers along the way such as Nino Ricci, Jane Rule and Daphne Marlatt who have helped her hone her writing craft.

Lissa believes that inspiration for writing can come from anywhere and that lifelong creativity begins by cultivating a deep awareness of ourselves, and the world around us. She coaches her students to develop the skills to tune in—rather than wait for the muse—and to trust their intuition. She believes that true creative work begins with a loving relationship to self and spreads outwards to encompass all living beings.

When she’s not writing or teaching, you can most likely find her in a cafe working on one of her stories or book ideas. She just started work on a creative non-fiction book, though it’s too early right now to spill the beans on that one!

She holds a Master of Arts degree in English Studies from l’Université de Montréal and lives in Toronto, Canada.

Author Links –

Website: lissacowan.com

Book Genre: Historical fiction, literary suspense

Publisher: Demeter Press

Release Date: October 18, 2013

Book Description:

What if the only person you ever loved suddenly disappeared without a trace?

In 1789, Armande, a wet nurse who is known for the mystical qualities of her breast milk, goes missing from her mountain village.

Céleste, a cunning servant girl who Armande once saved from shame and starvation, sets out to find her. A snuffbox found in the snow, the unexpected arrival of a gentleman and the discovery of the wet nurse’s diary, deepen the mystery. Using Armande’s diary as a map to her secret past, Céleste fights to save her from those plotting to steal the wisdom of her milk.

Milk Fever is a rich and inspired tale set on the eve of the French Revolution–a delicious peek into this age’s history. The story explores the fight for women’s rights and the rise in clandestine literature laying bare sexuality, the nature of love and the magic of books to transform lives.


My fever worsened. I don’t recall all who came to assist me on my sickbed during those few days of torment, but I know the village doctor was there for a time, along with a travelling barber-surgeon, an apothecary and a healer of the stone evil. One advised bleeding and another clysters. Still another insisted on purgatives in the way of small spoonfuls of cinnamon water. Margot applied compresses and told me to continue suckling even though the doctors warned

against it.

Eventually your body will rid itself of milk fever,” she said.

Heat consumed every part of me, setting my skin on fire. One night I didn’t sleep and hallucinated instead. In my half-mad vision, all the saints were there before me—Augustine, Teresa, Sebastian, Thomas, Francis, Cecilia—and many mortal beings who were now absent to me. Although I lay in bed amidst damp sheets, I saw my dear mother who died bringing me into the world, childhood playmates of mine who fell during the scourge and were buried together in one solitary grave. A neighbour who didn’t survive the birth of her second child, and yet another woman crying out as her son lay on his deathbed—all of them scaling the exterior walls of my house like red-eyed lepers seeking a crypt to hide their half-deadness. At first, I didn’t want to let these lost souls into my life. They were, after all, echoes of the past, wreckage from a sea-bound ship that never made it home. Although I am afraid of what they showed me, I was compelled to let them in. I awakened in a pool of water, nightshirt clinging to my hot, wet body. My child was no longer beside me. Did the lost souls take her, I wondered. Perhaps the flames licked her all away. Just when I had given up hope of ever seeing my darling baby again, Margot walked into the room. She passed a cool cloth over my forehead and cheeks. Its freshness soothed me.

Where is Rose-Marie? What happened to her?” I asked deliriously.

She is asleep in a basket by your bed. There, you see?”

I raised my head and glimpsed her round face peeking out from the covers. She batted the air with her fists, emitting rapid cries. Margot sat on the bed and looked upon me as a mother does a daughter.

You were burning up.”

Yes. I have spent the night watching saints and others battle the fires of Hades.”

Take the child. She needs your milk.” Margot handed her to me and I brought her to the spot of all my woes.

Amazed to find that feeding her soothed the pain in my bosom, I felt my fever much less than before. A sensation that I cannot put my finger on took hold of me when my milk fever subsided and I became bright-eyed and shiny as a new coin. I am no more able to understand my transformation than I am able to blame Rose-Marie for taking me from intellectual pursuits. My melancholia vanished with the morning mist. My baby’s little mouth curled and eyelids like pea pods opened and closed. When she looked up at me with knowing eyes, I couldn’t help but think it was my milk that produced such a state. My heart was suddenly joyful and I reasoned that there was no better place to be. Her gurgles and chirps told me she was happy in my arms and I now sensed the same emotion holding her. Ten little fingers and ten little toes, she was built of the stuff that made a body unstoppable. I held her always, all day, bestowing kisses upon her downy head. I couldn’t believe that this little nut, this sleeping angel, was mine. I cried and laughed as I rocked her. My words were caresses for her, flowing and erupting. She drank in my sweet hums and coos, her mouth lingering at my every syllable.

After feeding, I wrapped Rose-Marie and myself in a blanket and madly raced down the stairs toward the door. As I combed the garden for a bit of wind to quell what was left of my fever, I sensed my present life slipping away. My head and heart informed me that mothering wasn’t contrary to learning, yet instead part of it. I can write and reflect and talk philosophy just as I can suckle a child. No one can tell me—not even my own father—that it is not a woman’s privilege to do both.

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Filed under Authors, Books, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Romance