Monday, June 18, 2018

Unforgettable Love 2018

 
  Rescue and Redemption by Daniel Banner
 JFK, a firefighter for the Park City Fire Department, is tired of being razzed about his classy nickname. He’s lost weight, and even cut back on the swearing and drinking in an effort to fit the image. Still, he believes people never really change at heart. After all, under those muscles that can bench 250, he’s still the same guy. When a striking beauty wanders into his kitchen with her two-year sobriety coin, he wonders if he’s underestimated himself. A guy like him might just get a girl like her. Mercy Jewell McGovern, recently graduated from college and is in the process of getting her life back on track when she meets JFK. She’s immediately attracted to the capable chef running his precision kitchen at a charity event. But on their first date, it’s obvious he’s used to hanging out with guys, not with a lady. That won’t fly for Mercy. Despite her rowdy past, she knows she’s worthy of someone who knows how to open a door for her and can sit down to Sunday dinner with her extended family, the Jewells, who could write books on manners. Time after time JFK comes to her rescue, but will she be the one to ultimately save him from settling for less than his best?

On sale until 8 am on June 19th

 As Mercy walked into the huge, bustling kitchen, she heard a man snap, “Just because it’s a free meal doesn’t mean they get what they pay for!” She saw a large man in a white chef’s coat and big white chef’s hat that fell back behind his head. He went on to tell a middle-aged man who was slicing potatoes, “These little pieces are going to be starch-mush and these big fat ones will be crunchy. You can’t cook a dime and a hockey puck in the same dish. Keep it consistent, keep it quality.” “Yes, Chef,” said the man with the dedication of a reality food show contestant. The chef took a step over to another counter where a row of women were washing and peeling potatoes and picked up a perfectly peeled specimen. “If I need eggs peeled I know who to come to, but we’re making gourmet.” He grabbed a potato out of a huge bowl that had bits of peel still on it. “Gourmet, Mrs. Huxton. It’s like regular food but with more mistakes and smaller portions.” “Yes, Chef,” she said and screwed up her face as she worked on peeling potatoes in a less perfectionist manner. The chef was young to be so in charge, maybe 25 or 26. His facial features were large and manly and his eyes took in everything from under a strong brow. His jaw was just as strong and his big lips looked like they could be kissed for hours without wearing out. It had been a while since a man’s physical appearance had such an effect on Mercy, and she shook her head to clear it and get back to work. It was obvious the chef wanted good work done in his kitchen and he didn’t really care about what people thought about him. Yeah, his bedside manner could be more coddling with the volunteers and paid workers, but they seemed to respond to his brusque manner. Mercy found his manner attractive, as well as the way his kitchen buzzed with people getting things done right. His big, strong face was just plain sexy, she found herself thinking again. He was nothing like a chiseled marble statue, more like Tarzan, King of the Jungle, but not as ripped. Under the chef jacket he was carrying some extra weight, but he carried it just fine. The name badge pinned to his chest strictly read, Chef. “Looking for a job?” he asked her, and she realized she’d been staring. “Or just admiring the specimen?” He spread his hands wide to let her see all of him. Mercy smiled and brushed her hair back behind one ear and wondered if he liked edgy hair styles. “I’m Mercy, the Volunteer Coordinator for today.” “Oh good.” Projecting his voice toward some people chopping green beans, he said, “Now I know who to call when Jeff chops his fingers off.” “I’m being more careful, Chef,” said a skinny man in glasses without looking up. “What’s your name?” asked Mercy. “JFK.” “I like your hat,” she told him. “Thanks, I like your …” he looked at the shaved side of her head, the small stud in her nose, then at her coat, her Chuck Taylors, then his eyes stopped briefly on her neck where a couple of her tattoos came up almost to her hairline. With a mischievous grin he said, “I like your compliment of my hat.” Mercy found herself laughing naturally. Usually when she met guys her age they were either tripping over themselves trying to impress her, or sneering contemptuously at her. This guy—JFK? Really?—was one hundred percent himself. She didn’t know if she’d ever met someone so real.
 
"I've loved all of the books in this series, but I have to say this was my favorite so far!" "JFK had Mercy crying happy tears by the 43 percent mark, and I was crying with her."   Author Daniel Banner
 Daniel Banner, a 15-year fireman and paramedic, collects experiences by day and makes up stories by nights, and sometimes vice versa.
For Daniel, writing is an escape from the traumatic days, and a celebration of the triumphant days.  

Two Hearts RescueThe Peaceful Warrior: Navy SEAL RomanceThe Captivating Warrior9 Reasons to Fall in Love A Perfect RescueSparks Will FlyHow to Heel a Wounded Heart
 
Giveaway Details Ends 7/8/18 Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use money sent via Paypal or gift codes via Amazon.com. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning.
This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author.
VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Grease Slapped ( Ink Slapped Book 2) by A.M. Jones

Grease Slapped ( Ink Slapped Book 2) by A.M. Jones
Eli Gregor’s hole couldn’t be any larger as he fights to redeem himself. When tragedy strikes, he learns a few things about holes as Taylor explores the values of right and wrong. Caught between better judgment and desire, Taylor and Eli find themselves at a crossroads—should they make the best decision for their careers or give in to their undeniable connection? A torrid tale that weaves humor, drama, and sexual tension, Grease Slapped will leave you reeling and wanting more. *Grease Slapped contains explicit language and sexual content. It's the conclusion of Ink Slapped.* https://www.amazon.com/Grease-Slapped-Ink-Book-ebook/dp/B07CYNSTVK/

EXCERPT

I stop walking, keeping my focus on the exit. “Sorry Hunter, but I’m with someone.”
“You mean the dude that was about to get it on with Kayla in the backroom?”
A violent turn of my stomach makes me clutch it tight.
“Yes, the dude in the backroom,” Eli spits at Hunter, stalking down the hall. He grabs my arm, never stopping his angry stride. He drags me outside. People are everywhere, but he seems to know where he’s going. When we reach a parking lot, I recognize Milo’s van as Eli spins me to face him. “You’re mad.”
“Why would I be? You haven’t done anything wrong.” I cross my arms.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right? Then why did you walk out like that?” The alcohol fumes hit me in the face. His eyes flash and they’re a bit red. His jaw grinds something fierce. When I say nothing, he scoffs—an incredulous sound. “You’re jealous?”
Again, I keep my words to myself. I’ll only make it worse.
“Or are you mad because I interrupted you and that guy?”
“Really?” I snort and snap, “I’m not the one who’s married.”
A mocking laugh rumbles from his throat. “Do you know how it feels to be okay one second, insanely euphoric the next, and then fall into a despair so deep, you’re not sure you’ll ever climb out?” He boxes me in with his arms, supporting himself against the van. His face inches closer.
“You hide under all that ink. But you’re not fooling me. You can tell yourself whatever you need to keep this locked tight.” He traces a heart shape on my chest. “That’s why you don’t like Ink Slapped.”
I close my eyes.
“You know the weekend of the convention? Madison wanted me to get you out of my system.”
My body’s so tense I wonder why I don’t break in half.
“I don’t think it’d be that easy,” he whispers. Almost like it was more to himself than me.
I shake my head. Not disagreeing with him, I don’t know what to say to diffuse the situation. I don’t know how to make things better. A few moments tick by. “You’re not gonna say anything?” When I don’t respond, he pushes from the van, spinning away from me. “I don’t need this. I don’t fucking need another woman driving me fucking crazy.” He stops and hangs his head. “Maybe you are like your mom.”
I feel my chest expand like my body wants to start sobbing. I clench my hand, knowing the truth of his statement. “You’re right,” I whisper. “Go live your life and chase the dream. I’ll break your heart eventually, anyway.”

He links his hands behind his neck. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?” His head turns so I can see his profile, and he drops his arms. “But like I said, Taylor, whatever you gotta tell yourself.” He cuts his eyes sideways before shaking his head and walking away.

Author Bio: Author A.M. Jones is a hopeless romantic with a lewd mind. She resides in Tennessee and writes about anything that strikes her inspiration and creativity. Her strength in characterization makes realistic elements of humor, angst, and drama jump from the page and into your soul. Ms. Jones’ other half has published books in dark fantasy and continues to do so.
  https://www.authoramjones.com/ https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAMJones/ https://twitter.com/AuthorAMJones https://instagram/AuthorAMJones

Sunday, June 17, 2018

Ink Slapped


Ink Slapped by A.M. Jones



The heart wants what the heart wants—a concept that free-spirited author T.M. Dabney, never understands until she lays eyes on her new cover model, Eli.

Eli Gregor, a struggling musician and mechanic, thinks he knows the true meaning of heartbreak—that is until he accepts a business venture with the alluring Taylor Dabney. With her help, he pieces his life back together when his dreams dangle within reach and once again everything falls apart. And his success comes with a price he doesn’t want to pay.

Caught between better judgment and desire, they find themselves at a crossroads—should they make the best decision for their careers or give in to their undeniable connection?

A torrid tale that weaves humor, drama, and sexual tension, Ink Slapped will leave you reeling and wanting more.

*Ink Slapped contains explicit language and sexual content.*


Amazon: www.amazon.com/dp/B07CXVNKYX


EXCERPT
“When are you going to dress me like a Viking and take pictures of me fondling a half-naked woman?”
Her eyes widen for a split second before she bursts into laughter. The sound draws eyes our way, but she’s oblivious. “Oh, that would be torturous for you, I’m sure.”
“It would be. I’m not a PDA kind of guy.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not romance. It’s apocalyptic. I can obscure your face if you don’t want it shown.” She pulls things out of her messenger bag and flips open a sketchbook. “This is my vision for the cover.”
It’s a simple sketch of the pose and lighting. I realize with amazement the art drawings on her website are of her own making. She knows what she wants for the book cover. I study the weapons and blood, and of course, more dead bodies. “Where will you get dead bodies?”
She laughs again. “I have stock on reserve.” She hands me a stack of books. Her books. “Like this.” I make a show of considering each one, like they haven’t been burned into my brain in the past twenty-four hours. “They’re demons who appear human.” Excitement shines in her eyes. She grips her beer glass, but it’s empty. Mine is, too.
So, we get more.
Two hours and several beers later, more people pile in the bar. She stops talking and leans away. “I must bore you.” She isn’t. Her passion makes me want to write my own demon story. The more she drinks, the more animated she becomes. Her hand gestures are comical.
I’ve also studied her tattoos when she doesn’t notice because staring outright would be rude. Once I get past the fact they cover her, the artwork is stunning. Some kind of flower runs the length of her arms in different shades of color. Different tints of green weave in and out, making leaves and curly vine things. Then I notice the tattoos are stages of flower decomposition. They’re vibrant and alive near her shoulders, but by the time the tattoo reaches her wrist, the flowers have wilted and died, leaving behind withered leaves, dead vines, and branches. It’s… odd and makes me wonder why she chose to have them dying.
I lean forward, place my elbows on the table, and meet her gaze. “I find you refreshing.”
Her mouth pops open a little as if she’s not sure what to say. Biting her lip, her gaze darts around before she pushes the stack of books to me. “Those are yours.”
“Don’t these cost you money?”
“Yes, but I’m giving them to you.” She removes a cigarette from a pack and lights it, blowing smoke into the haziness of the bar. I’ve never seen a real live 1970s smoking ad before, punk rock edition. The ones where tobacco companies give smoking major sex appeal. She should be getting paid the bucks right now and she doesn’t even know it.
Some emotion wiggles its way into me. Despite everything that’s happened lately, and as much as I shouldn’t, I’m looking forward to getting to know her better.
“You should tell me to fuck off.” I'm a little disheartened by my warning. Not sure why I tell her so.
She returns my stare, searching my face before her gaze lands on my guitar case. “Not a chance. I need you.”
I sit back and twirl my beer on the table, trying to remember the last time someone said they needed me. Nothing comes to mind. “You need me?”
She nods. “I’d like to write full time. This could be an opportunity to market to a wider audience. Build my platform.”
“At least you have goals.” I don’t even know what mine are anymore.
The slight smile on her face beckons me to lean forward. “And maybe one day I’ll write something I feel good enough about to snag me an agent.”
I remember the portfolio on her site, which is why I suggested we trade services, but now suspicion weighs on me again. “Why do you think I can help you?”
I laugh when she gestures as if I have huge tits. She laughs, too. Although it’s a humorless, nervous laugh. “Your physical appearance might attract a broader female audience, as much as I hate to say it.”
I scoot her books back to her, not wanting her to just give them to me. It’s not like I have any cash to pay for them. To lighten the mood, I announce, “Let’s get a shot of tequila.”
She laughs again but looks ill. “Last time I had tequila, I danced on the bar with the chicks at Coyote Ugly. My bra still hangs on the clothes line across their ceiling.”

With the top she has on now, I don’t think she’s even wearing one to lose. “Sounds like a great time.”


Author Bio:

Author A.M. Jones is a hopeless romantic with a lewd mind. She resides in Tennessee and writes about anything that strikes her inspiration and creativity. Her strength in characterization makes realistic elements of humor, angst, and drama jump from the page and into your soul. Ms. Jones’ other half has published books in dark fantasy and continues to do so.



https://www.authoramjones.com/
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAMJones/
https://twitter.com/AuthorAMJones
https://instagram/AuthorAMJones


When Darkness Follows


When Darkness Follows
Genre: Paranormal Romance
By Athena Daniels

The only man who can save her, is the one she swore she’d never see again…

Rachel Sommers and her two best friends don’t believe anything will happen when they sneak onto a haunted shipwreck in the middle of the night. Why would they? Ghosts don’t actually exist… right?

But Rachel and her friends disturb something that night. Something demonic. Something that lured Rachel to the ship. And now one of her friends is dead, the other is missing, and Rachel’s memory of the night is gone. There’s only one thing she knows for sure: whatever killed her friend has followed her home.

Over a century ago, an act of bitter jealousy and revenge tainted a crystal ball with an unstoppable evil. And when the deadly object eerily turns up in her bedroom, Rachel’s nightmare really begins.

Ex-Special Forces detective Daniel Smith takes the case the moment Rachel’s name appears on his screen. Rachel is the only woman he’s ever loved, but despite their explosive chemistry, she’s determined to keep him at a distance.

With Rachel’s life on the line, the disturbing truth about her ancestry and the cursed object she has inherited must be uncovered. But is it already too late? Daniel will risk everything to save the woman he loves, but how can he win this lethal game of cat and mouse against a killer that is not flesh and blood?

Do not read this book alone in the dark.
Everyone always believes it is the Ouija Board that allows the evil to flow. Poor little board that gets such a bad rap.


Best friends for years, eventually forming a popular band, Rachel Sommers and friends Robbie and Trey also formed a habit of checking out reportedly haunted spaces. The night they snuck onto a haunted ship, did their luck run out? Or had they just tempted fate one time too many?

When one friend is dead, the other missing and suspected of murder, Rachel turns to a television show with a history of revealing paranormal secrets and discovering truths.
Some cases are too difficult for just some ghost geeks with EMF recorders. For those they call upon a specially talented group of former military operatives.

This is disturbingly dark while being steamily sexy. The characters are captivating with more secrets than any one book can reveal. It is a story of survival while seeking the truth with a family element as well.


About the Author



Athena Daniels is the #1 international bestselling author of the award-winning Beyond the Grave paranormal romance series and the romantic thriller Desperate.

In 2016, Athena was nominated for Author of the Year and Best New Author in AusRom Today’s Reader’s Choice Awards.

Her novel Girl Unseen won the Silver Medal in the 2017 Readers’ Favorite® International Book Awards and was awarded a Silver Medal in the 2017 Literary Titan Book Awards. Girl Unseen was an “Official Selection” in the New Apple Literary Awards, and was also nominated for 2017 Book of the Year in AusRom Today’s Reader’s Choice Awards.

The Seer’s Daughter was the solo Medalist Winner in the Suspense/Thriller category of the 2016 New Apple Annual Book Awards for Excellence in Independent Publishing.

The Seer’s Daughter was also a finalist in the 11th Annual National Indie Excellence Awards in Suspense and in the 2016 Readers’ Favorite® International Book Awards. Additionally, The Seer’s Daughter was nominated for 2016 Book of the Year and 2016 Cover of the Year in AusRom Today’s Reader’s Choice Awards.

Girl Unseen and The Seer’s Daughter are both 5-star Top Picks at The Romance Reviews.

Athena has a natural curiosity about the “more” there is in life and holds several qualifications in metaphysics and natural therapies. She is a neuro-linguistic programming (NLP) practitioner, life coach, and feng shui specialist.

Athena lives on the northern beaches of sunny Western Australia. Find out more about her at www.athenadaniels.com, or follow her on Twitter @AthenaDaniels11 and on Facebook at /AthenaDaniels11.


Purchase Links:

Amazon US – Pre-order – http://bit.ly/BYG4WDF
Amazon UK - http://bit.ly/WDF
Amazon – Canada - http://bit.ly/WDF
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/WDF4


Saturday, June 16, 2018

Snafu Fubar


Adult Humor
Date Published: Oct 2016

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


*****WARNING*****
If you are easily offended, then this is NOT the book for you. Please put it down and back away slowly. However, if you have a warped sense of humor, please read on.

In the town of Lost Hope, Florida reside two heroes unlike any others. These champions of justice go by the names of Snafu Fubar and General Nuisance. Nightly they patrol their fine city to protect it from evil's grasp. And by 'patrol' we mean they sit on a porch, appropriately nicknamed 'The Fucking Nuisance Cave', drinking beers, smoking cigars, and talking about sex.


Excerpt


   Meanwhile, across the street from the trailer park, in a convenience store that General Nuisance and Snafu Fubar frequented, a robber had just entered, brandishing a pistol.  He pointed it at the clerk behind the counter, a young boy who had not yet reached legal drinking age and who still had a zit party in full swing on his chubby face. “Put your hands in the air and give me the money!” The clerk looked confused for a moment and then shrugged.

    “I can’t do both.”

    “Huh...what?”

   The clerk rolled his eyes. “I can’t put my hands in the air and give you the money.”

    “Fine. Put one hand in the air and hand me the money with the other one.” The robber gestured with the gun.

   “OK, which hand?”

    “Right…no, wait a minute. Left.”

    “Left hand up or left hand get the money?”

     The robber banged his head against the counter three times and glared at the clerk. “Left hand get the money.”

    Ding Ding.

      The robber and clerk both looked toward the store's door, through which a female customer had just entered. She was blond, with a great body and nice rack, but her face was ugly as sin. “Can I get twenty on pump five?”

    The robber stepped towards her, motioning with the gun. “Lie down on the floor now!”

   “What? Really? Have you seen this floor? I’d probably have a higher chance of survival if you just shoot me. I think I’ll take my chances!”

    The robber glanced down at the floor. “OK. Point taken. Just sit on the floor.”

    “Really wish I hadn’t picked today to wear stilettos and this damn mini skirt with no panties,” griped the customer. “I mean, if I’m going to catch an STD, I really wanted to do it the fun way.” She looked about as graceful as a giraffe on roller skates as she tried several maneuvers to get down on the floor without giving the clerk and the robber their own private peep show.



    General Nuisance met Snafu in the parking lot of the convenience store. They did the handshake, the fist bump, the high five, the gang sign, the chest bump and the butt slap — to which they both said in unison, “NO GO HOMO!” This, of course, made it perfectly acceptable for two grown men to slap each other on the ass.

    “Do you see what I see?” General Nuisance pointed into the convenience store that held his beloved beer.

    “Yeah, some idiot sitting on a disease ridden floor.  Hope she knows there are more enjoyable ways to catch an STD.”

    “I agree, but I wasn’t talking about her. Look again…a robber!”

     “Cool! You wanna hand out some Bronze Age justice?”

       General Nuisance poked his friend in the arm. “I got one better...Iron Age justice, huh, huh?”

    “Oh, that’s just stupid! What did the Iron Age have that the Bronze Age didn’t?”

    “Really? Asia was smelting tin and brass by then…you can’t top that. What was your Bronze Age doing? Cave men were still circle jerking on dinosaurs' corpses.”

     “That’s the Stone Age, you idiot.” Snafu shook his head. “You can be so dumb at times.”

      While Snafu Fubar and General Nuisance debated over the kind of justice they were going to hand out, things inside the store took a bizarre turn.

     “Man, my drawer is gonna be off. I’m gonna have to overcharge all my customers tonight,” the clerk whined as he looked down at his till.

     “Shut up! Just get the money,” screamed the robber.

   “I don’t feel so well,” said the female customer, whose face was now a sickly shade of green. She burped once then farted. A moment later, she puked all over the floor and shit herself.

     “Crap! Now I’m going to have to mop the floor and man, I was really hoping to leave that for the morning shift. I mean I could kind of push everything under the candy counter. There’s a good chance no one would notice and I could just place a wet floor sign where she is at. Yeah…the more I think about it, I’m pretty sure that would work.”

      “Oh my God! Why are you taking so long?” The robber pointed the gun at the clerk again.

     The store's door swung open. Loud rock music blared as Snafu and General Nuisance entered the store. “I’m here to kick some ass and hand out –“, Snafu sighed, “Industrial Revolution era justice!”

     “See?!? Was that so hard?” General Nuisance asked with a smile.

      The robber grabbed the clerk by his shirt collar. “This is why you should have moved faster. Both of you get down on the ground now…or the clerk dies.”

       General Nuisance and Snafu both looked down at the female customer who was now shaking and in the midst of some kind of convulsion. “Yeah, that’s just not going to happen,” Snafu said.

    “Son, put the gun down.” General Nuisance spoke as calmly as a man being threatened with sitting on a disease-ridden floor could speak.

    “How about I shoot you?!” screamed the frustrated robber as he pointed the gun first at General Nuisance then at Snafu.

     “Yeah, shoot those costumed freaks!” chimed in the clerk.

      “You stay out of this!” the robber yelled at the clerk.

     “Why are you rooting for the robber?” asked Snafu.

     “I don’t know…just seemed like we were connecting…I don’t get a lot of social interaction here.”

     The robber looked back and forth between the costumed vigilantes and the clerk. “Shit! I don’t know who to shoot first!”

     “Please God, let it be me! Bleck!” said the customer on the floor as she puked again.

     “Well, while you decide that, I’m going to grab a Slushee,” Snafu said as he strolled toward the back of the store.

     “Yeah. Me too. Let’s grab the beer and some beef jerky while we’re at it,” General Nuisance said as he patted the robber on the shoulder and walked past him.

     The robber snatched the money from the clerk's hand and ran out of the store. “Ya’ll are fuckin’ crazy!”

     The clerk, looking as though he'd just lost his best friend or a beloved pet, leaned over the edge of the counter.

     “Call me...I mean if you want to hang out or something,” the clerk yelled as the robber made his escape. When he didn’t get a response, the clerk slumped back against his stool.

     “They never call.”



About the Author


Bob Dixon is a two-time Guinness World Record holder for the World's Longest Cartoon Strip. He is the author and creator of a number of comic book titles for Pocket Change Comics, including Assassinette: The Mind Stalker, Psyco Duck, Jester's Dead, The Holy Knight, Riplash, Shadow Slasher, and Warzone 3719. Bob has written two children books, Rooty the Tree Troll and Holiday Bunny; two young adult books, Mouch and Company: The Dream Psychic and Rags and Ruins; An adult humor book Snafu Fubar : Nothing Heroic; and is the co-author of Will Jones' biography A Tough Call. Bob is also the Writer/Director of the movie Dr. Prozak's Office. Additionally, he is a certified special education teacher who works with children who have autism and intellectual delays.


Contact Links

Twitter: @authorbobdixon



Purchase Links





RABT Book Tours & PR

POISON BY PUNCTUATION


Poison by Punctuation (Chalkboard Outlines) by Kelley Kaye

 

About the Book

Cozy Mystery 2nd in Series 
Red Adept Publishing, LLC (April 24, 2018) 
Print Length: 243 pages 
Digital ASIN: B07BTYJXCG


High school teacher Emma Lovett is finally recovering from her first year of teaching when she discovers another dead body. As if that wasn’t bad enough, this time, someone has killed a student, Kisten Hollis.
Emma and her best friend, Leslie, are desperate to solve this murder. But suspects abound. The perpetrator could be a teacher, an administrator, a member of Kisten’s zealous church community, or even another student.
Emma must juggle her teaching responsibilities, her new romance with handsome Hunter Wells, and interest from a hunky second suitor, all while searching for evidence to bring a killer to justice before someone else dies.


About the Author


“Kelley Kaye” taught High School English and Drama since 1992 in California, then Colorado and now Cali again, but her love for storytelling dates back to creating captions in her high school yearbook. Maybe back to the tales she created for her Barbie and Ken—whatever the case, the love’s been around a long time. 
She’s married to an amazing man who cooks for her, and they have two funny and wonderful sons.

Website - http://www.kelleykaybowles.com/
  Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkelleykaye/
  Blog - http://www.kelleykaybowles.com/kelley-s-blog2.html
  Twitter - https://twitter.com/kelkay1202
  BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kelley-kaye
  Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/Kelley-Kay-Bowles/e/B00JJ9T7AC
  GoodReads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1380492.Kelley_Kay_Bowles

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