Monday, November 5, 2018

PROMO Blitz: McDowell by William H. Coles @whcoles #fiction #giveaway #promo #excerpt


 photo McDowell_zpsu1peidnf.jpg
Literary Fiction
Publisher: Story in Literary Fiction (Ingram)

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


A finalist in the William Faulkner Creative Writing Competition.



McDowell, an arrogant, selfish, uncaring surgeon--except with his three children whom he ineptly tries to council as they come of age--loses his career, wealth, respect, and fame when his grandson goes on a killing spree and then fails in a suicide attempt living in a vegetative, brain-dead state. When the boy dies under suspicious circumstances, McDowell is convicted and jailed for second-degree murder. He escapes to become a fugitive pursued by authorities, an investigative TV reporter eager to interview him before capture, and his daughter who is trying for a retrial. McDowell’s family members struggle to find meaning in their lives but each is thwarted at every turn by their father’s reputation. McDowell keeps on the move to prevent his capture and establish a new life. He is forced to gingerly reenter society at the lowest levels and with each new acquaintance, he must learn a new sense of humanity to survive.



Excerpt



Prologue



Nepal, 1981

Himalayas



            The sky cleared briefly before daybreak. The sharp bitter winds eased somewhat, but the negative forty-degree temperatures penetrated to the bone. Hiram McDowell lifted the flap of a one-man tent to look in on Erick Woolf, who turned his head, his beard tinged in frost-white from his labored breathing; Woolf lifted his goggles, his pale blue eyes opaque with fatigue.

            “You ready?” Hiram asked.

            Woolf shook his head “no,” trying to smile but his face remained motionless.

            Hiram took off his outer gloves, freed up an oxygen tank from Woolf ’s backpack, and placed the mask on Woolf ’s face. Woolf rallied after a few minutes of oxygen.

            Within half an hour, with four other climbers, Hiram and Woolf started for the summit. Woolf ’s fatigue slowed progress and after an hour they soon fell behind the others. The wind gusts increased. Woolf sank into a sitting position a few yards from a slope of snow and ice.

            Hiram steadied himself on a steep vertical. For a few seconds, the visibility improved, but he saw no one.

            “Go,” Woolf called to him, his voice husky dry. “I can’t do it.”

            With only slight hesitation, Hiram waved his agreement. He had only two hours or less to summit before their oxygen supply ran low. And Woolf was too weak to go on; the rest would strengthen him. At the summit, Hiram took photos and, for a few minutes, absorbed the satisfaction of his achievement and the awe of the view from the highest point on earth.

            Winds picked up and snow and haze decreased visibility as he began his descent. He pressed on. After an hour, he stumbled onto Woolf a few feet from where he had left him.

            “Get up,” Hiram yelled over the howling wind.

            “Help me. In the name of God,” Woolf pleaded.

            Hiram gripped Woolf ’s parka to help him stand, but Hiram was too weak to lift, and Woolf fell back.

            “Rescue,” Woolf moaned, drifting off into semi-consciousness. Rescue from base camp was impossible until the weather improved. And they were in the dead zone, too high for helicopters.

            Hiram freed Woolf ’s remaining oxygen supply and attached it to his own pack.

            “Don’t leave me, Hiram.” Woolf coughed.

            Hiram backed away and started down. Climbing ropes aided him for a few hundred yards. Near a rock crevice familiar to him, he stumbled on the half-buried lifeless body of a facedown climber. A candy bar and water were in the inner jacket pocket. Near the corpse’s outstretched arm, a glint of silver stopped Hiram. From hard snow and the ice-solid fabric of a frozen glove-hand, he freed a silver crucifix that he pocketed for identification and to send to family. He plodded ahead. The storm abated and he felt the muted exhilaration at knowing he would not die.

            On return home after his miracle survival, Hiram dreamed of immortality. He determined to climb every peak above 8000 meters in Nepal.




 photo McDowell print front and back_zps3eofedbm.jpg



About the Author

 photo McDowell Author William H. Coles_zpsfdkwobcq.jpg
William H. Coles is a literary fiction writer, winner of multiple awards including the William Faulkner Creative Writing Competition, The Flannery O'Connor Award for Short Fiction, and others. To learned the art of writing fiction in courses and workshops from more than seventy-five authors, editors, and teachers. He and created storyinliteraryfiction.com, a website with resources for fiction writers, illustrators, and avid fiction readers and works of fiction. The site has had over two million visits in the last three years.  He was an ophthalmic surgeon specializing in ocular-injury repair and reconstruction, a professor and chairman at SUNY Buffalo School of Medicine, a Regent for The American College of Surgeons, president of the Association of University Professors in Ophthalmology. He plays jazz piano, was former President of the Gibbes Art Museum in Charleston, SC, and has lectured internationally on mechanistic biologic ophthalmic research, ophthalmic surgery, jazz, and valuing antique Georgian and federal furniture and art at Emory University. He won a Mayor's award for contributions to historic preservation in Charleston, SC. and the Conrad Berens Award for best film on a medical subject. He lives and writes in Salt Lake City, Utah.



Contact Links


Purchase Links



RABT Book Tours & PR

Release Blitz: Little Meditations by Avinash Jalani @AvinashJalani #releaseday #poetry #giveaway


 photo 1925819779-front cover_zpsxtl9nlgp.png
Poetry
Date Published: November 5, 2018
Publisher: Tablo Pty Ltd

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Little Meditations are poems dedicated to those moments when feelings are clustered, those moments when the breathe is slow and deep, those moments when thoughts just pass by, those moments when waiting is the only option, those moments when let go comes with a tear and a smile, those moments when the feelings take over and do not make sense. These poems are from the journey between those moments and hoping you may drift away into few moments of transcendence without an artificial pressure to find meaning or purpose. You are here to heal yourself.






 photo pic 2_zpszjgpluns.jpgContact Links




Purchase Links




RABT Book Tours & PR

Saturday, November 3, 2018

Release Blitz: Reaching New Heights by Don Meinberg #christian #selfhelp #childrens #releaseday


 photo Reaching New Heights Volume 1_zpsazips5al.jpg
God's Answers to Young Teens' Questions Volume 1: January-March
Self-help, Christian, Kid's Self-Help
Date Published: November 1, 2018
Publisher: Lucid Books

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


How can young people know they’re making the right decisions in their lives?

Kids between the ages of 10 and 15 often face significant confusions, challenges, and uncertainties in their life stages. Yet, numerous books and publications focus only on high school or college ages, while few speak to the pressing questions young teens or pre-teens face every day. The purpose of this book is to give junior high kids a yearlong study to find God’s specific answers to problems they face daily. Their issues may be like the topics facing high school and college kids, but they require a totally different perspective. What’s more, these younger kids are most likely facing issues for the first time and are left confused and frustrated.

This book will shed biblical light on issues such as:


•Navigating friendships

•Dealing with embarrassment

•Loneliness

•Parent problems

•Dealing with bullying

•Dating

•Peer pressure

•Dealing with violence



'Reaching New Heights' gives young teens an avenue to learn what God says and how to apply God’s answers to their lives.



 photo Reaching New Heights Set_zpsjybcxrkz.jpg


Other Volumes of the Reaching New Heights Series



 photo Reaching New Heights Volume 2_zpszv7udggt.jpg

Reaching New Heights
God's Answers to Young Teens' Questions Volume 2: April-June
Publisher: Lucid Books
Release Date: November 1, 2018




 photo Reaching New Heights Volume 3_zpsj3kjtxwn.jpg

Reaching New Heights
God's Answers to Young Teens' Questions Volume 3: July-September
Publisher: Lucid Books
Release Date: November 1, 2018




 photo Reaching New Heights Volume 4_zpsot6gn0vh.jpg

Reaching New Heights
God's Answers to Young Teens' Questions Volume 4: October-December
Publisher: Lucid Books
Release Date: November 1, 2018




About the Author


 photo Reaching New Heights Author Don Meinberg_zpshyzvykyh.jpg


Pastor Don Meinberg is the senior pastor of Reflections Christian Fellowship in Riverside County, California. He spent more than 12 years working with various ages of youth, including pre-teens, middle schoolers, and high school kids. He has had the privilege to counsel them and hold Bible studies on the sensitive, delicate subjects of their life stages such as body image, peer pressure, and teen suicide, to name a few. His experiences have allowed him to truly understand what these kids experience during puberty and how each of them is different in these growing-up years. Pastor Don holds two Master’s degrees and two certificates in various competencies. Most of all, he has a big love for kids’ ministry!

Contact Links

Purchase Links

RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday, November 2, 2018

Release Blitz: A Christmas Star by Judith Keim @judithkeim #romance #womensfiction #releaseday #excerpt


 photo A Christmas Star_zpsionpei5a.jpg
Romance, Women's Fiction
Date Published: November 2, 2018


 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Two years ago, Noelle North’s then-fiancé left her waiting at the church on Christmas—her wedding day and birthday. She knows she cannot endure another holiday season at home in Boston. At the urging of four women at the assisted-living community where she serves as health director, Noelle decides to rent Seashell Cottage on the Gulf Coast of Florida for the holidays. She meets Silas Bellingham, the cutest seven-year-old boy she’s ever seen, and his great-grandmother, Althea. Noelle discovers Althea’s caretaker has been abusing her and goes into action, ending up with the temporary care of both Althea and Silas. Becoming part of the Bellingham household has an entirely different series of challenges when it comes to Althea’s grandsons, Jake and Brett, who are having problems of their own with hotels to run and their parents missing in a plane crash. But after sparring with her, Silas’ father, Jake, realizes Noelle is just what he and his family need, and when she finds the perfect Christmas star for Silas, they both know he’s right.





 photo A Christmas Star print front and back_zpso6ubzdfr.jpg


 Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE


               On the Gulf Coast of Florida, Noelle North walked along the white, sandy beach that lined the shore like the fur on her slippers back home. The sun’s heat washed over her, hugging her with its warmth on this early December morning. She unzipped her light jacket and lifted her arms to the blue sky, welcoming the day with an embrace. She had a whole six weeks of freedom from work and her dismal life back home.

Her family had wanted her to stay in Boston with them for the holidays, but Noelle knew she couldn’t endure another Christmas of everyone feeling sorry for her. Two years ago, on Christmas Day, her fiancé, Alexander Cabot, had left her waiting at the church on her wedding day, while he’d taken off with another woman, his best friend’s wife. She’d wanted to die of embarrassment. Even now, thinking of that humiliation, a shudder shook her shoulders, and her stomach filled with acid.

               The one thing that had helped her keep going throughout the healing process was the conviction that she’d never fall for a glamour guy again. Besides, at thirty-two and with her grim track record with men, she was pretty sure she was destined to be single for the rest of her life. The thought didn’t bother her as much as it used to. Why should it? She had the freedom to come and go as she pleased, nobody was around to tell her what she could or couldn’t do, and evenings after a hard day of work at the New Life Assisted-Living Community were blissfully quiet.

               Noelle stopped walking and gazed out over the water. Waves rolled toward her in a steady pattern, greeting the shore with a kiss and pulling away like a shy child. Above her, seagulls wheeled in circles, their cries shrill in the stillness of the early morning. She watched as a group of sandpipers darted toward the water’s edge, dipped their beaks into the sand for whatever little morsel they could catch, and continued on their way, leaving tiny footprints behind.

               A flash of black caught her attention. She turned to see a big dog galloping toward her, yellow tennis ball in his mouth. She braced herself to greet him and then chuckled as the dog circled and ran right by her toward a small figure farther down the beach.

               She walked on, watching with interest as the dog ran into the water and came out again carrying the wet ball in his mouth. As she came closer, she saw that the person throwing the ball was a boy whom she guessed was seven or eight.

               The boy smiled at her as she approached.

“Your dog is a very good catcher,” Noelle said. “What’s his name?”

“Duke,” the boy said. The dog, hearing his name, came and sat by him.

“And what’s your name?” Noelle asked, thinking the boy with dark red hair, bright green eyes, and freckles was one of the cutest kids she’d ever seen.

“Silas. Silas Bellingham.” He studied her. “Who are you? And why aren’t you working?”

She grinned. “I’m Noelle North, and I’m not working because I’m on vacation for the next month or so.” She glanced around. “Are you here by the water on your own?”

“Naw. My great-grandmother’s over there. See?” He pointed to a woman sitting in a wheelchair on the porch of a sizeable house overlooking the beach.

               Noelle smiled and lifted a hand in greeting, but the woman didn’t wave back.

               “See you later,” the boy said and ran toward his great-grandmother.

               Noelle watched him go, thinking of all her friends’ children back home. Of the four women who had stuck together through everything since college, she was the only one who was unmarried and without children. She’d always wanted a large family, but that didn’t seem possible now. At her age and with no prospects of a husband in sight, she would be lucky to have even one baby.

               Trying to fight off depression, Noelle resumed walking. It was bad enough to have been dumped at the altar on Christmas, but that day was also her birthday. With a name like Noelle,  she’d always felt the holiday season was something extra special, almost magical, in her life. Until two years ago, that is. Now, Christmas trees, Christmas decorations, and especially Christmas music were nauseating to her.

               She walked on wishing her grandmother was alive. From an early age, she and Gran had had a special relationship. In fact, Gran was the reason why, as a graduate of Boston College’s nursing program, Noelle decided to specialize in caring for the elderly. She now headed the health program at an exclusive, assisted-living community outside of Boston. Over the past several years, some of the more active residents had become dear friends. Without them, she would not be in Florida.

               Noelle smiled at the memory of Edith Greenbaum confronting her with three of her closest elderly friends. “Now you listen here, young lady,” Edith had said with great earnestness, “it’s time for you to go somewhere, kick up your heels, and have a little fun. I was doing some research on the internet, and I’ve come up with the right place for you.”

               Shocked and pleased, Noelle had played along. “And where might that be, boss?”

               Edith and the other three women had tittered happily.

               “I’ve printed it out for you.” Edith handed her a sheet of information on the Seashell Cottage just south of Clearwater Beach in Florida.

               The minute Noelle saw the picture, she knew it was a perfect idea, the perfect place. Sitting on the edge of a broad expanse of white beach, a small, pink cottage beckoned to her.

With its painted clapboards, wide front porch, and two palm trees spreading shade nearby, it was everything she’d imagined in a beach getaway.

               “Thank you, Edith,” she’d said with meaning. “I’ll see if it is at all possible.”

               “You know we’re right, Noelle,” Edith replied kindly. “It’s time for you to move on with your life. If you don’t do it for yourself, at least do it for us. We’re stuck here. But you’re not.”

               Tears stung Noelle’s eyes as she’d embraced each one. It was the perfect time of year for her to do as they suggested.

               Thinking of those dear women, Noelle’s spirits lifted and she began to run.

###

               For the second morning in a row, Noelle awoke and stretched, relieved to be away from home. She’d wanted to come to Florida in time for Thanksgiving, but her mother had put her foot down and insisted that Thanksgiving be spent with all four of her children at home. Noelle loved her parents and her three older brothers and their families. But being with them for Thanksgiving had convinced her it was right to come to Florida for the Christmas holidays. Chaos reigned when the whole family was together. Eight nieces and nephews between the ages of one and fourteen were enough to rattle anyone. Even her mother, Jen, went to bed as soon as she could after everyone else had gone, leaving Noelle to do the last-minute tidying.

               Noelle put on her fuzzy pink robe, padded into the kitchen, and turned on the coffee maker. Through the kitchen window, she saw that the clouds the weatherman had predicted were marring the blue sky and hiding the sun. Still, with ice and snow back home, the day seemed full of promise.

               She took her cup of coffee out to the front porch and gazed out at the water. A sense of peace washed over her. Edith had told her life was full of challenges, forcing people to grow and change. Thinking of the past two years, she realized she’d been stuck in a pattern of self-doubt and hurt. No man, she vowed, was worth it. Edith was right. It was time for a change.

               With a fresh resolve to enjoy each day free from the past, she went inside, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and headed out to the beach. Though the air was cool, the sun felt warm on her face as she headed down the sand at a brisk pace.

               Along the shore, egrets were dipping their beaks into the shallow water, retrieving small, silvery fish. Noelle loved their long legs and the orange beaks that accented their white feathers. How long has it been, she wondered, since she’d taken the time to stop and study the beauty around her.

               A number of people, children included, were searching the sand at the water’s edge for seashells. Some of the more experienced searchers held net bags that sagged with the weight of their treasures. She understood how hooked some people could be on searching for the best and the most unusual shells they could find. Each shell was truly a gift from the sea.

               As she got closer to the part of the beach where she’d met Silas, she slowed. But neither Silas nor the dog named Duke was in sight. Sorry to have missed them, she walked on.

               When she reached the long, wooden pier that reached out into the water like a finger testing for coldness, she sat down on one of the benches at the end of it. For a while, she watched fishermen patiently waiting for a strike. She especially liked to watch the young boys and girls fishing. The hope on their faces was priceless.

               Yawning softly, Noelle headed back to the cottage. The sea air, sun, and freedom from home were working their magic on her body, relaxing muscles that had been tight too long.

               In the distance, she could see Silas and his dog playing on the sand. Picking up her speed, she headed toward them.

               Duke bounded toward her. His black paws pounded the sand in steady, eager beats. Wagging his tail, he stopped in front of her, tongue hanging out. Laughing, she patted him on the head. “Hello, Duke.”

               She looked up to see Silas running toward her, waving.

               Her heart filled at the sight of him. She’d hoped for a little boy just like him one day.

               “Hi,” said Silas, beaming at her. “You’re early today.”

               “Yes, it was such a beautiful morning I decided not to stay in bed. How are you?”

               He looked down, kicked at the sand, and looked up at her with a sour expression. “Mrs. Wicked is back.”

               “Mrs. Wicked?”

               He nodded. “She’s my Nana’s nurse. I don’t like her. She’s mean. She was on her break. And now she’s back.”

               “I see. Well, nursing can be difficult,” Noelle ventured to say, unsure what the real problem was in the house.

               Silas took hold of her hand. “C’mon! I’ve got to hurry back. I’m supposed to stay right in front of Nana’s house. If I don’t, Mrs. Wicked will be mad.”

               Noelle allowed herself to be hurried along.

               Standing in front of Silas’s great-grandmother’s house, Noelle studied the old woman.

Even from a small distance, she seemed bowed in spirit and fragile as she sat in her wheelchair staring out at them. Others might not recognize these signs, but from her years of experience with the elderly, Noelle was used to seeing this. On a whim, she turned to Silas.

“Let’s go say hello to your grandmother.”

“She doesn’t talk much,” Silas said with a note of sadness in his voice.

Noelle smiled. “That won’t matter. I bet she’s curious about me and might like a visitor.”

As they walked toward the front porch, a figure emerged from the house. Noelle observed the big-boned, broad-chested woman and guessed that this was the person Silas called Mrs. Wicked.

“There she is,” whispered Silas.

Pretending not to have heard, Noelle lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello!”

The woman did not return Noelle’s greeting and, instead, went inside.

Noelle climbed onto the porch, walked up to Silas’s great-grandmother, and held out a hand. “I’m Noelle North, a new friend of Silas’s. I thought I’d come to say hello to you.”

From among the wrinkles and the downcast look on her face, her blue eyes lit and a smile emerged. “I’m Althea. Althea Bellingham.” Noelle could see how beautiful the woman must have been and wondered what kind of injuries kept Althea in a wheelchair when there seemed so much life to her.

“She’s Mrs. Bellingham to you,” said the woman emerging from the house to stand behind Althea. Dressed in dark slacks and a white shirt, she scowled at Silas and turned her disapproval on Noelle.

“And you are?” Noelle asked, curious about Silas’ name for her.

“Betty Wickstrom,” the woman said with a challenging expression.

Noelle held back a chuckle. Mrs. Wicked seemed such an appropriate name. She turned to Althea. “Maybe someday Silas and I can get you out in the sun for a bit. He and Duke play a mean game of catch.”

Althea nodded and then glanced at Betty.

“She’s doing very well right where she is. Right, Althea? And now it’s time for her medicine. So say goodbye to her.”

Althea’s expression changed to one of defeat.

“Silas, time for you to come into the house,” said Betty.

“No! I don’t want to go inside. I want to stay with Noelle. She lets me play with Duke.”

Noelle smiled at both women. “I’m happy to stay with him for a while longer. Will that is okay?”

“No!” said Betty.

As Althea reached up to touch Betty’s arm, her long-sleeved shirt revealed a bruise on her forearm. “Yes.”

“What happened to your arm?” Noelle asked as calmly as she could while suspicion rolled through her in a wave of unease.

Althea glanced at Betty.

“She’s fine, just a little clumsy, that’s all,” said Betty, waving away Noelle’s concern.

“You hit Nana there,” said Silas, moving closer to Noelle. “I saw you.”

“Why, you little … You know that didn’t happen. That’s where I helped her up from another fall.”

Silas clasped Noelle’s hand and shook his head. “Adults aren’t supposed to lie.”

Noelle knelt down in front of Althea’s wheelchair and spoke softly. “Althea, you can trust me. I’m a registered nurse who helps the elderly where I live in New England. Are you being hurt?”

Althea looked at Betty, turned back to Noelle, and nodded. Then she lifted her shirt. Bruises were everywhere.

Noelle scrambled to her feet and faced Betty, her hands fisted. The burning desire to attack the awful woman was almost overwhelming. Through gritted teeth, Noelle said, “I would suggest you pack up your things and leave now, Betty, or I’m calling the authorities.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” snarled Betty.

“I would, I can, and I will,” said Noelle, flexing her fists. The abuse of the elderly wasn’t new, but each time she saw an example, it made her sick to her stomach.

Noelle turned to Silas. “You stay here with your great-grandmother. I’m going inside to make sure Mrs. Wickstrom leaves.”

Mrs. Wickstrom placed her hands on her hips and glared at Noelle. “You can’t make me leave. You didn’t hire me.”

“If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police. I mean it. I’ve handled cases like this before,” Noelle said, well aware this really wasn’t her business. But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t let the abuse continue. The sight of those bruises felt like a punch to her gut.

“Okay then, I’m not leaving until I get paid,” said Betty.

“Write down what you’re owed, and I’ll see that you get the money. That’s the best I can do under the circumstances,” said Noelle. “It’s the nicest offer you’re going to get because if it were left up to me, you wouldn’t get a dime. You’d get a jail sentence.”

“You have no proof that I did anything wrong,” countered Betty.

Noelle’s smile was cold. “Oh, but I do. I have two very credible witnesses and, if necessary, I’ll take photographs to show the authorities. Now, get your things, and I’ll escort you to your car.”

Noelle followed Betty inside and to a bedroom off the kitchen in the back of the house. She watched carefully as Betty hastily threw her things into a small suitcase. When she’d zipped her suitcase closed, she turned to Noelle.

“What are you going to do about it now?”

Noelle drew a deep breath. “I’m taking your keys to the house and escorting you to your car.”

“And then what?” sneered Betty. “Althea isn’t an easy woman to deal with. Too stubborn, too demanding for her own good.”

“We’ll see about that. Come on, let’s go.”

Noelle escorted Betty outside, wrote down the license number, and stood by as Betty threw her suitcase into the back of a small, blue sedan and climbed behind the wheel. After starting the engine, Betty gave her a middle-finger wave and took off with a roar.

Alone, Noelle stood in the driveway, breathing in and out in a calming pattern to slow her heartbeat. What in the hell had she done? She didn’t know Althea Bellingham. And now she was in charge of her until her family could find other help for her.

She went inside the house and out to the seaside porch. Silas was sitting next to the wheelchair, holding his great-grandmother’s hand. Althea was asleep in the chair. At the sweet sight of them, tears sprang to Noelle’s eyes.

“Hello,” she said softly to Silas. “Mrs. Wicked is gone. Come with me. I need your help.”

Silas followed her into the kitchen.

“Who do I need to call? Where are your parents?” Noelle asked.

Silas gave her a look that was so sad, Noelle’s heart clenched. “My dad is in New York. He’ll be back at the end of the week.”

“Do you have a phone number for him?”

Silas smiled and pointed to a printed list by the kitchen phone. “It’s the one on the top. His name is Jake.”

Noelle studied the mounted paper. Jake Bellingham’s phone number was listed at the top. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

“The Bellingham Hotel New York. How may I help you today?” came a practiced, professional-sounding voice.

Noelle’s heart pounded with dismay. Bellingham Hotel? The family-owned hotels? “May I please speak to Jake Bellingham?”

“I’ll buzz his office for you.”

After a minute, a feminine voice came on the line. “Mr. Bellingham’s office. How may I help you?”

“Please, I need to speak to him. I’m a visiting neighbor calling from his grandmother’s house in Florida.” Noelle’s pulse sprinted at the idea of telling him what she’d done.

“Please hold, and I’ll see if he can take the call,” his secretary said.

A moment later, Noelle heard a deep voice say, “Jake Bellingham.”

Noelle swallowed hard. “Mr. Bellingham, you don’t know me, but I’m a new friend of Silas’s. My name is Noelle North, I’m a registered nurse visiting from Massachusetts, but not licensed in Florida, and I’m calling to tell you that I just escorted your grandmother’s caretaker out of the house for abusing her. I specialize in care for the elderly and recognize abuse when I see it. I did not call the police. I need to know what you want me to do next.”

“Let me get this straight. You don’t know me, my grandmother, or the woman who was taking care of her. Yet you had the balls to throw her out after, what, five or ten minutes in the house?  Is that it?”

“Yes,” said Noelle with a confidence she didn’t feel. “That’s about it. As I said, I am a registered nurse, so I’ve seen too many cases of abuse like this before. She has bruises on her arms and torso that are very telling.”

“Abuse? Really? Put Silas on the phone,” growled his father.

Noelle handed Silas the phone. “Your father wants to speak to you.”

Silas’s eyes grew round. He took the phone and listened, then he spoke in a series of staccato sentences. “Yes! I told you Mrs. Wicked was mean! Yes, I like her! Her name is Noelle and she’s here on vacation. Nana showed Noelle her bruises. That’s why.”

After a pause, Silas said, “Love you too, Daddy,” and handed the phone back to Noelle.

“I had no idea this was happening to my grandmother,” said Jake. “I have you to thank for uncovering the situation. I’ve been mostly away for the last several weeks, and Althea never mentioned any problems with Mrs. Wickstrom. Nor did I notice anything like that. I’m sorry, but I can’t make it home for another few days due to some international legal problems. Can you stay with my grandmother and Silas until I can send someone else to take over for you? In the meantime, who can I call for references on you?”

“You can speak to anyone at the New Life Assisted-Care Community outside of Boston. I handle the health program there. I’m in Florida for a vacation, and as I mentioned earlier, I’m not licensed to practice in Florida, and won’t be able to stay with your family for any length of time, and then only as a caretaker, not a nurse.”

“Until just this weekend, I promise,” said Silas’ father. “And if I can find a better service than the one I used for Mrs. Wickstrom, it could be for only a few hours. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well.”

Noelle bristled. “You may be used to paying people to do your bidding, but it’s not necessary for me. I’ve done this because I care about others. Not to get your money.”

“Whoa! I didn’t mean … Forget it! I’ll be in touch.”

Noelle hung up the phone, still steaming from the notion that she and her work were for sale when she was just voluntarily helping to resolve a very tough situation.

“You’re going to stay with me now?” Silas asked, giving her a wide smile. “Maybe for a long time.”

“Just until your father can find a replacement,” Noelle said, not wanting to get Silas’s hopes up for something that wasn’t going to happen. She already knew she didn’t like Jake Bellingham.



About the Author

 photo A Christmas Star Author Judith Keim_zpskhgxygvr.jpg
Judith Keim was born and raised in Elmira, New York, and now makes her home in Idaho with her husband and their two dachshunds, Winston and Wally, and other members of her family.

Growing up, books were always present being read, ready to go back to the library, or about to be discovered. Information from the books was shared in general conversation, giving all of us in the family a wealth of knowledge and a lot of imagination. Perhaps that is why I was drawn to the idea of writing stories early on. I particularly love to write novels about women who face unexpected challenges and meet them with strength.

A hybrid author who both has a publisher and who self-publishes, Ms. Keim writes heart-warming stories of strong women who face challenges and find love and happiness along the way. Her books are based, in part, on many of the places she's lived or visited and on the interesting people, she's met, creating believable characters and realistic settings her many, loyal readers love.

Contact Links



Purchase Links 



RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, November 1, 2018

Release Blitz: The Winter Riddle by Sam Hooker @SamHooker #fantasy #releaseday #excerpt #giveaway


 photo TheWinterRiddle_Ebook_zpsgnhdtrjm.jpg
Fantasy (Humorous)
Date Published: 1 November 2018

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Publisher: Black Spot Books (https://blackspotbooks.com)


When destiny calls on the Winter Witch to save the North Pole, will she pretend she’s not in?

Once upon a time, the North Pole was a very noisy place. A kingdom cowered under the maniacal rule of the White Queen, The Vikings raided and pillaged as they were wont to do, and the Winter Witch avoided talking to any of them.

When her peace and quiet are obliterated by threats of war and Ragnarok, she’ll try anything to get them back. When casting spells to become nearly invisible and dealing with otherworldly powers fail, the Winter Witch needs to forge an alliance with Santa—a retired warrior who’s anything but jolly—to save the North Pole from calamity.

Will the Vikings take up arms against the frost giants? Will an evil necromancer keep the kingdom in the grip of fear? And for the love of Christmas, will everyone who isn’t the Winter Witch please stop meddling with dark forces beyond mortal comprehension for a bit?

Deck the halls and bar the doors! We’re in for a long winter’s night.

Excerpt

Santa’s Detritus


Santa’s Village was always giving off some sort of minor nuisance that she could overlook. The occasional thunderous boom, the erstwhile blinding flashes in the sky, and the rare fluctuation in the Northern Lights were all easy enough to forgive and forget, but the wreckage of some infernal machine gone clog dancing over her herb garden was just the sort of thing to land an insolent neighbor at the top of the revenge list.

Oh, yes! The spirits were simply philanthropic with cause for revenge of late. There must have been a surplus. It was shaping up to be a very busy winter.

Adding insult to injury, Santa probably had no idea that his detritus had inconvenienced anyone. If she did nothing about it, he’d most likely go on with his life as if nothing had happened. Not a chance! Walking away from this would require legs! Functional ones, with knees intact!

Volgha stood there, fuming. She wasn’t very handy in dealing with people. Plants, yes. Animals, to be sure. The occasional Viking was fine, as long as they were full of mead and beef and you toasted Valhalla with them once or twice. However, your standard, run-of-the-mill person came with all sorts of things. Feelings, needs, complications. It was disgusting, really.


About the Author

 photo sam-hooker_zpshxr8j2az.jpg
Sam Hooker writes darkly humorous fantasy. He is an entirely serious person, regardless of what you may have heard. Originally from Texas, he now resides in southern California with his wife, son, and dog.





Contact Links


Purchase Links



RABT Book Tours & PR