Author: Angie

Say You Love Me Eva Rae Thomas Mysteries Book 4 by Willow Rose Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense

Former FBI-profiler Eva Rae Thomas is back and embedded in a true nightmare reaching deep into her own family.

What would you do if your brother was accused of a horrible crime, and you were certain he didn’t do it? Life is not done throwing Eva Rae Thomas curveballs. A phone call turns her life upside down – once again. The call is from her father, the man she hasn’t seen in thirty-six years, not since he kidnapped her sister in a supermarket. Now, he is back in Florida, and he needs her help. Her younger brother – who she didn’t know existed – has been arrested on Amelia Island. The boy is in a coma after being shot by an officer during the incident. But his father doesn’t believe the police, and he asks for Eva Rae’s help to prove it. At the same time, a serial killer is planning one of the most horrific mass killings in history. Will Eva Rae find it in her heart to help her father after what he did to her? Will facing him again set her free or pull her under?SAY YOU LOVE ME is the fourth book in the Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Series and can be read as a standalone.**Only .99 cents 10/2 – 10/8 !!! **Goodreads * Amazon

The Queen of Scream aka Willow Rose is a #1 Amazon Best-selling Author and an Amazon ALL-star Author of more than 60 novels. She writes Mystery, Thriller, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense, Horror, Supernatural thrillers, and Fantasy. Willow’s books are fast-paced, nail-biting pageturners with twists you won’t see coming. Several of her books have reached the Kindle top 10 of ALL books in the US, UK, and Canada. She has sold more than three million books. Willow lives on Florida’s Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you will find her surfing and watch the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway! a Rafflecopter giveaway

Dark Unicorn Horn Sworn Book 1 by Taylor Haiden & Angela Kulig Genre: Epic Fantasy

Perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas and Victoria Aveyard, Dark Unicorn is the first of the new and mysterious adult fantasy series Horn Sworn. Princess Wrenyve knows her oath to return her Kingdom’s missing artifact, the Heart of Spellshallow, means one of the King’s children will die. Even if Wren is cunning, fast, and strong enough, there’s a good chance it will still be her. Without the Heart, magic will flee the land faster than the night flees the day. Without the Heart, Spellshallow, and everything in it will cease to exist. As her brother’s shameful thievery is uncovered, Wren must swallow her pride and accept help from allies whom she knows she can’t trust: – Thackery is the ambitious son of the richest and most powerful councilman—her very ex, scorned lover—and the wounds Wren caused him are still raw. – Calen isn’t a boy at all. Trapped in human form after a hideous defeat, Calen may have lost his horn, but is still a unicorn—a self-serving, treacherous scoundrel, as dangerous to any man who crosses him as he is to the innocence of every fair maiden. – Luckily for Wren, she was already doomed. To find the Heart and restore the magic, to retrieve the lost horn, Wren and her unfortunate travel companions must survive three separate realms—each more deadly than the last. Unknown enemies and strange magic hinder their way, and yet the most perilous thing is what lies within their own hearts. Goodreads * Amazon

Cruel King Horn Sworn Book 2

The Collector has all the magic, holds all the cards, leaving the Cruel King with nothing but blood on his hands. For Wren, her only hope of saving her people now hinges on the one person she can never trust. Calen has regained his horn and all the old debts have been called in. This time there’s more than just his horn on the line. They escape the Collector’s clutches by fleeing to the beautiful Realm of Unicorns. But will they find a welcomed homecoming or an inescapable prison? Can Wren and Calen kill two kings without destroying themselves and their tenuous love? Or will the lies and deceit be too much to overcome? Goodreads * Amazon

TAYLOR HAIDEN has three beautiful children and an amazingly supportive spouse and lives with them in Arizona. Tylor’s days are spent enjoying the breathtaking blue skies and pink sunsets while writing a variety of genres. When not writing, Taylor enjoys traveling to new places, tasting new and exciting foods, binging on Netflix, and experiencing everything that life has to offer from barbecues to scuba diving. Taylor is author of the Werewolf M.D. series with more in the works. Newsletter * Facebook * FB Group * Twitter * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Angela Kulig is an American gypsy, and former pirate. She has been from sea to shining sea–and though she is currently trapped in the desert against her will, she escapes everyday in the form of many books. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

The servicewomen hadn’t come down yet. It was probably because a fight
had broken out between some of the more impatient patrons. I looked over the
remains of the noon meal spread across two tables. They flanked both sides of
the redwood door that was the only way in or out of the room. The meager fare
had been picked clean by a crowd of worthless vagrants, cutthroats, and
drunkards—and me, though I suppose I was all three.
A fistfight was no cause for concern, the local muscle paid to keep things
orderly let you have it out so long as you didn’t cause any excessive property
damage. Most of the furniture was cobbled together from repaired and splintered
wood anyways, so even that could get a little fuzzy.
The alehouse was narrow and long. Crooked steps led up to the second floor
where anyone with coin could find a disreputable lady to relieve them of it. A
cloudy mirror hung on the back behind a rough bar that looked like it had seen too
many knife fights.
I was a favorite among the female employees of this particular establishment.
They doted on my every word and loved to pass on small tidbits of information
their customers let drop. Sometimes it even proved useful.
My silver hair caught the light, and I paused to consider the reflection. A
handsome face with a strong jaw looked back—it was difficult not to notice the
cheeks were a bit sunken in below the eyes. A hazard, of my newfound liquid diet.
Though still blue, my eyes were rimmed with a line of red. That should improve
with time. You couldn’t make the whole ocean crimson just by spilling a little blood.
Alcohol was the only thing that seemed to help. Nothing else could silence the
bone-deep ache I felt inside. The barkeep placed a glass of amber liquid precisely
two fingers from the edge of my left hand. He didn’t interrupt my brooding, silently
filling my drink time and time again. I regarded the lanky man casually. His hair

had grown longer and Lin had taken to tying it in a knot behind his head. Clean-
shaven, with a friendly face that was not unpleasant or overly attractive. An easily

forgettable face that blended in perfectly no matter where he was. Lin was a good
bartender—surprising, since he was also a master assassin.
Catching my eye, Lin leaned across the counter, the modest grin not entirely

masking a curiosity in his dark eyes I hadn’t seen in some time. Not since I’d first
come to the House of Glass the year before.
“Someone’s been asking about you,” Lin murmured under his breath.
My fingers twitched, the only reaction I gave.
The House of Glass was less house and more bar and brothel, which meant it
had eyes and ears and an agenda that changed as frequently as the wind.
“Someone?” I asked.
That was a sticky point with me. Someone, I could handle, it was a special
sort of someone that tended to interrupt the carefully crafted routine I had built
here. Rolling my shoulders, my eyes ghosted across the others seated at the bar.
Lin nodded. “A mage, from a noble family. You should have seen the shiny
pantaloons and nose pointed in the air. You’d have laughed.”
A mage was no laughing matter. That was the special sort I tried to avoid.
“So, this mage, is he going to be a problem?” I asked Lin. He’d turned his
back to me, but I’d said it too loudly. I could feel the ears around me perk up…
“I think,” Lin said, polishing a glass, “that’s very likely.”
I leaned closer to Lin. “And did this mage say what he wanted?”
Mages were a nuisance, particularly the more powerful ones. The only thing
worse was one born of nobility.
Lin shook his head as he applied the rag to the hopeless bar top. “Just came
to check on a rumor.”
My life was one big rumor and I did my best to shy away from anyone looking
to spread it.
“You didn’t see me,” I said, sliding a few red notes in his direction.
“I never do,” Lin replied, making the money disappear, “didn’t hear ya
neither.”
Bartenders can be so wise. Or were assassins wise?
I eyed the man next to me. His boots were caked with mud and he had a dull
look in his eyes as he pounded back drink after drink. Hired killer. My eyes
bounced to a flash of red by the door. It wasn’t the mage though, it was a girl. Pale
as a snowdrift in January with hair the exact shade of a hickory fire. She looked

right at me, with the same expression that everyone has the first time they do.
“Is that him?” I heard her ask too loudly. The room fell silent.
She should have thrown a knife in my direction. Then maybe people would
have ignored her.
“That’s him,” a voice next to her said.
I put down my glass. It made a strange hollow clink despite still being partially
filled.
“She’s back,” Lin said, dropping his towel.
“You never said it was a girl,” I said. So this girl was the mage.
“You never asked.” Lin retreated to the back under the guise of restocking the
bar.
“Princess,” the drunken man next to me slurred, “What is her kind doing
here?”
A princess mage?
That was something you didn’t see every day, not in this realm anyway.
A man in the center of the room lurched to his feet. “Princess, is that you?”
“Markson?” The girl turned with a confused look toward the man. His balding
head dipped in shame.
“Markson, what are you doing here?” she began, “—never mind, where is my
brother?” She eyed the room carefully. This was, after all, no place for a lady.
“Gone miss, I… I left his service.” The haggard-looking soul straightened the
strings on his tunic. They were lavender and gold, the colors of a Spellshallow
personal guard.
“I’ve been with Pieter since he was just a baby miss, I never… I couldn’t… but
he did a terrible thing, Princess. A most despicable—and still I couldn’t…”
The man began to cry in earnest. It had been a while since I’d let anyone
else’s shame touch me. The clear remorse over abandoning his sworn duty was
so sharp it made me remember my own. The other patrons made a show of going
back to their drinks, while still keeping an ear open.
“We know that he took the Heart, Markson, no one blames you.” The girl tried
to soothe him, but it was an ointment that wouldn’t stick.

“We know everything, Markson,” said a tall man at the princess’s side,
“including about the Collector.”
The Collector… Hashir the Collector? That dung-pile of a man…
The killer at my side unfolded a small crossbow from beneath his shirt. I
should have known. Who else would he be here to kill? I rushed to disarm him, but
he turned and fired before I had the chance.
“No,” the Princess cried out as the bolt flew towards her heart. Somehow,
Markson was fast enough. The man must have seen the killer take aim and threw
himself in front of the Princess.
The girl hit her knees just as the body fell lifeless in front of her. Must’ve been
a magicked poison to work that fast. Poor fool, trying to atone by trading his life for
hers.
I wasn’t in the habit of lending a hand, and I hadn’t intended to start at that
moment, but my life was built on things I never planned to do. Knocking the
crossbow from the killer’s hand, I smashed his face with the back of my elbow. He
fell back bloodied, but recovered faster than any normal man should have been
able to.
In an instant, a poison-tipped hunting knife was in his hand and streaking
towards my throat. I casually ducked under the blade. Grabbing his forearm, I
snapped it in half and shoved the man’s own knife into his gut. His eyes met mine
in surprise. Recognition of what I was finally dawned there and his face became
fearful—then the poison took hold and he saw nothing at all.
Lin had somehow made his way upstairs and was hollering at someone, but I
didn’t pause to consider who that might be. I dashed across the room and paused
in front of the broken little girl who knelt by the dead man like a child. Sparing not
another glance for her companion, or toward the chaos that was erupting all
around me, I reached out my hand to her. My cold fingers, tinged with blue and
silver, took her small white hand in mine. For some reason she let me.
As our skin touched, it ignited a spark that made me feel alive again for the
first time since that fateful day. It made me want to spread my wings once more, to
run wildly through the forests. At that moment, I realized something. My horn and

my cause may be lost, but I would always be a unicorn.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway! a Rafflecopter giveaway

Where the Bodies Are The McAllister Series Book 1 by L.V. Gaudet Genre: Psychological Crime Thriller

Step into the twisted mind of a serial killer in this disturbing psychological thriller. Dead bodies are being left where they are sure to be found. But, the killer made a mistake; one victim left for dead survived. Kept in a medically induced coma while she recovers, they can only watch her and wait for the killer to come back for her. While Detective Michael Underwood protects their only living witness, Detective Jim McNelly and his reporter friend Lawrence Hawkworth are determined to find the killer and bring his killing spree to an end. Instead, they discover a bigger mystery. The killer’s reality blurs between past and present with a compulsion driven by a dark secret locked in a fractured mind. Overcome by a blind rage that leaves him wallowing in remorse with the bodies of victim after victim, he is desperate to stop killing. After learning of his victim’s survival, the killer sees it as a sign they are meant to be together. Threatening her tenuous grip on life, he is determined to take back his prize while he continues kidnapping and murdering young women. Accustomed to a life of abuse, one victim’s experience becomes her refuge in a desperate bid for survival. Instead of killing her, he keeps Katherine Kingslow imprisoned in the dark while he continues plotting to take back the Jane Doe in the hospital. How long can Kathy survive and will she lose her own mind? The search for the killer will lead to his dark secret buried in the past, something much larger than a man compelled to kill again and again. Add to Goodreads Amazon * Kobo * Smashwords

The McAllister Farm The McAllister Series Book 2

Step back in time to learn the secret behind the bodies in Where the Bodies Are in this disturbing look at the boy who will grow up to create the killer. 1981 Meet David McAllister, the boy who will grow up to create the killer. In 1981 there was a man who lived on a farm. William McAllister was a private and reclusive man who, above all else, did not like to have attention drawn on his family. He wanted only to be left to mind his own business and family and for the world to do the same. But that very reclusiveness fosters contempt and suspicion in the people of the small farming community his family has called home for generations. William McAllister has a son, Jason McAllister. Jason is a troubled boy. Growing up under his father’s strict rules and isolated from the normal childhood relationships, he is left to explore his darker inclinations. Seeing the darker side of Jason, William tries to rein his son in by bringing him into the family business. Just then a serial killer starts preying on local young women. The McAllisters quickly find themselves drawn into the spotlight when the town decides William McAllister is the killer. As the town’s search for the killer focuses on the McAllister farm and the woods behind it, the threat to the McAllister secret grows. The McAllister family history is as dark as the secret hiding in the woods. The attention is a threat to both William McAllister’s profession and his family. He has no choice but to find the killer himself. He might not like what he learns. Add to Goodreads Amazon * Kobo * Smashwords

Hunting Michael Underwood The McAllister Series Book 3

Step deeper into the twisted mind of a serial killer as he slips further into madness in this disturbing psychological thriller. Hunting Michael Underwood follows on the heels of book one, Where the Bodies Are, bringing the first two stories and their characters together as the search for the killer continues. Michael Underwood has vanished and everyone is searching for him. Detective Jim McNelly is determined to not stop until he finds him. Working with the detective, Lawrence Hawkworth is still chasing the bigger story he knows is behind the bodies. Jason McAllister knows he must stop the killer he created before he goes too far. He may be the only one who can stop him. Unable to let go of his barely remembered past and the search for his sister, the killer goes looking for Jason McAllister’s past and his family. ***** Detective Jim McNelly is furious. Detective Michael Underwood disappeared without a trace with the only living witness to the McAllister murders. Worse, Michael is not who he pretended to be. And then the other shoe fell. Jason T. McAllister, tried and convicted of the kidnapping and murders of multiple women and the prime suspect behind the bodies discovered in the woods behind the McAllister farm, is being inexplicably set free. He will not spend the rest of his life in prison. Jim is determined to find Michael Underwood, bring him down, and discover the truth about who he really is and what his connection to Jason McAllister is. Working with his long time friend, the notoriously unscrupulous investigative reporter Lawrence Hawkworth, Jim will not stop until he finds Michael and the answers to the bodies found in the mass graveyard in the woods behind the McAllister Farm. Jason McAllister knows he must stop the real killer behind the murders he was convicted for. As the killer spirals further into madness, Jason is the only one who can stop him. But, he needs help. He is going to have to talk to his father, William McAllister, the man who taught him how to hide the bodies. Michael Underwood and Katherine Kingslow are on the run. A victim of domestic abuse and only known survivor of the McAllister Farm killer, Kathy has lapsed into Stockholm syndrome. Now she is torn between her need to be with her captor and fear of his escalating psychotic episodes. Everyone is hunting for Michael Underwood. Add to Goodreads Amazon * Kobo * Smashwords

Killing David McAllister The McAllister Series Book 4

Everyone wants to kill David McAllister in this explosive conclusion. David McAllister must die. Crazy comes to a head in this disturbing psychological thriller. When an unbalanced serial killer sets his sights on a little girl, there is only one way it can end. Someone will die. Sometimes the only way to stop a monster is to kill it. He has gone by many names, but he was raised as David McAllister, and finding what he is looking for is not enough to quiet the darkness inside him. The organization ordered the cleanup of the entire McAllister family. The job was given to Sophie McAllister. While Detective Jim McNelly and his reporter friend Lawrence Hawkworth continue to hunt them down, the McAllisters move into hiding. David McAllster’s psychosis continues, but now Sophie’s daughter is in danger. He believes she is his tiny sister Cassie. The presence of his now adult sister Cassie does not stop his dead little Cassie from tormenting him. *** Sometimes the only way to stop a monster is to kill it. He has gone by many names, but he was raised as David McAllister, and finding what he is looking for is not enough to quiet the darkness inside him. David McAllister must die. While the McAllisters move into hiding, Detective Jim McNelly and his reporter friend, Lawrence Hawkworth, continue to pursue them. Jim and Lawrence split up to follow their own leads, routes that will take them each on their own path to discover secrets behind the McAllisters. Anderson and William are trying to keep the group together and ahead of the detective hunting them while trying to resolve the issue of what to do with David, Kathy, Rose Bheals, and the boy Jason brought, Billy. Kathy is becoming increasingly fearful both for and of David and wants out, but feels trapped. She is certain death is the only way out. Cassie swore to kill David for what he did to Connie and the others. Torn by memories she does not have and the knowledge of the dark hole this life will bury her in, she needs to escape. Sophie has been ordered to kill David and Kathy. She may have to kill her own brother, Jason, too. When the time comes, she’s not sure if she can do it. With Marjory’s lapses into the foggy confusion of Alzheimer’s, nobody believes her when she really needs them to, when Sophie’s little girl’s life is at stake. David is slipping further into madness and, convinced she is the little sister he lost so many years ago, he is going to take little Lauren with him. Having his now adult real sister, Cassie, there is no help. Will someone reach David and Lauren in time as the blackness closes in and rage takes over? Add to Goodreads Amazon * Kobo * Smashwords

L. V. Gaudet is a subjugated cubicle dweller by day and a Canadian author of dark fiction by night, a member of the Manitoba Writers’ Guild, the Horror Writers Association, and Authors of Manitoba. L. V. grew up with a love of the darker side; sneaking down to the basement at night to watch the old horror B movies, Vincent Price being a favourite, devouring horror books, and has had a passion for books and the idea of creating stories and worlds a person can get lost in since reading that first novel. This love of storytelling has L. V. working writing and editing into a busy life that includes a full time job, family, and doing the little things to help the writing community including offering encouragement to others in the online writing community and volunteering time editing the Manitoba Writers’ Guild newsletter and helping with their Facebook presence, proofreading for the HWA newsletter, and visiting schools for I Love to Read month. L.V. Gaudet currently lives in Winnipeg with two rescue dogs, spouse, and kids. L.V. Gaudet’s books are available in ebook and print format at online bookstores. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

THE MCALLISTER FARM
(1981)

Is there something wrong with me?
Why does it feel so good

to see something squirm in pain?
To see the fear and begging in their eyes?
To be the only one who can help them

if I only just stop,
but to go ahead anyway?

The shovel makes a sly shuh-king noise as its blade bites into the hard earth that likely has never
been touched by the tools of men.
William McAllister struggles against the un-giving ground, putting his foot on the top edge of
the shovel blade beside the handle protruding from it and using his weight and muscles to force
the blade deeper.
He grunts with the effort.
The night creatures watch silently from the safety of their hideaways in the woods.
His breath turns to fog in the cool night air, coming heavier from the exertion.
Satisfied he has pierced the ground deep enough; he works the shovel back and forth before
leaning on it, scraping out a pile of hard dirt. He dumps it next to where he is digging and thrusts
the blade into the earth again.
It is spring and still chilly at night. The ground is still thawing from its winter freeze, making
the job harder.
The trees stand sentry above, dark figures against the moonlit sky blocking out some of the
stars. The lower brush surrounding him grows where the trees thin to let more light reach lower,
allowing it to thrive and grow taller and thicker, giving the spot a more secluded feeling.
The wind picks up, hissing through the leaves of the treetops.
He ignores the whispering trees, continuing to dig until the hole is big and deep enough.
At last he pauses, wiping away the sweat dripping into his eyes from his forehead.
He drops the shovel on the ground and picks up a sheet-wrapped object lying on the ground
behind him. It is perhaps the size of a small child of about four or five years old.
The sheet looks ghostly pale in the darkness, seeming to hover on its own in the barely visible
arms of the dark-clothed man against the background of the dark woods surrounding him.
Kneeling, William gently lays it in the hole.
He picks up the shovel, standing over the hole staring down into it for a pause that lasts only a
few heartbeats but feels longer.
Without a word, he starts shovelling the pile of disturbed earth back into the hole. With each
thud of dirt hitting the sheet-wrapped object its startling brightness against the dark of the dirt
and night grows smaller. He keeps at it, methodically tossing in shovel full after shovel full until
the displaced dirt has all been replaced and the wrapped object completely buried. The rounded
mound of dirt is dark against the rotting leaves and brown pine needles covering the ground all
around.
With a powerful swing, he brings the flat bottom of the shovel blade down on the mound. It
hits with a dull thud, leaving an indentation in the disturbed earth. He pounds it again and again,
compacting the loose chunks of dirt, but it isn’t enough. He wants the mound to be level with the
ground around it.
Scattering leaves, twigs, and fallen pine needles over it, he starts stomping the mound with his
boots, stomping and stomping, clouds of vapour puffing out of his mouth in the chill air with the
effort. He scrapes the surface with the sharp shovel blade, smoothing it.

Scattering more debris on the spot, he presses it in with the flat of the shovel and then sets the
shovel down to scatter more loose debris on top.
Finished, he studies his handiwork and nods, satisfied.
There is no visible sign the ground has ever been disturbed unless you know to look. The next
good rain will wash away even those faint traces.
Picking up the shovel, William moves off through the woods, eventually arriving at a
farmyard.
In one direction across the farmyard is an old barn that has not been used to house animals for
decades. Straw still litters the floor in places around the edges and in old stalls. The rest is swept
clean. The moonlight coming in through the cracks between boards and in the windows glints
dully off the rounded metal frames of old tractors huddled in the darkened interior. Like the farm
itself, the tractors were passed down to him from his father.
The old barn is feeling its age and will probably need to be rebuilt in another ten years.
Close to him near the edge of the trees is a shed used for storage for anything small enough to
pile on its shelves and in corners.
Centered between them across the yard is a small old farmhouse.
It is the kind of farmhouse built before building codes, when a handshake was enough to
suffice and a farmer built his own house with a hammer and nails and his own sweat. The house
is small but well built with two small bedrooms and a mud-floored cellar for cold storage and the
only access to the cellar a trap door with a ladder that goes straight down. The walls are made of
flat boards grouted between them to seal the cracks.
The house was built by an earlier generation of McAllisters when they first settled here and
the farm handed down in the family.
The livestock on the farm consists of a small flock of free roaming chickens that provide them
with fresh eggs, a single aging nanny goat they use for milk, and a small herd of feral cattle that
live mostly unbothered in the field. An old barn without doors beyond the trees surrounding the
farmyard provides the cattle shelter when they need it.
William walks across the yard and puts the shovel in the barn, hanging it on the wall, then
heads for the farmhouse.
The light shining on a pole in the farmyard reveals the lines at the corners of his eyes; lines
drawn by hours spent working outside under the burning sun and against the ravages of the wind
and weather. He looks forty, although he is younger.
Marjory greets him at the door, wringing her hands and looking anxious.
“Did you take care of them?” Marjory asks.
He nods. “They won’t be found where I buried them.”
“Good,” she says. “Now we have to break it to them.” Marjory is upset and wishes they did
not have to do this.
Today had been as any other until the racoon came.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway! a Rafflecopter giveaway

XYZ : One Man, two kids, ten devices and an internet-sized generation gap by William Knight Genre: Humorous Fiction

From a former Guardian and BBC writer, and author of The Donated, comes a hilarious story of mid-life crisis, family, technology, and coping with the modern workplace. Jack Cooper is a depressed, analogue throwback; a cynical, alcoholic Gen-Xer whose glory days are behind him. He’s unemployed, his marriage has broken down, he’s addicted to internet hook-ups, and is deeply ashamed of his son Geronimo, who lives life dressed as a bear. When Jack’s daughter engineers a job for him at totally-lit tech firm Sweet, he’s confronted by a Millennial and Zoomer culture he can’t relate to. He loathes every detail – every IM, gif and emoji – apart from Freya, twenty years his junior and addicted to broadcasting her life on social media. Can Jack evolve to fit in at Sweet, or will he remain a dinosaur stuck in the 1980s? And will he halt his slide into loneliness and repair his family relationships? XYZ is for every Gen-Xer who ever struggled with a device, and for everyone else who loves emojis … said no one ever. ‘Essential reading for anyone in the workplace over 40, and a handbook for those cocky bastards who are not.’ Paula (Boomer, wannabe GenX) Goodreads * Amazon

William Knight’s writing credits include The Guardian, The Financial Times and the BBC, among many others publications, where he has written about the successes and failings of technology. He currently lives in Wellington, NZ, where he works as an IT consultant and writes blistering content for technology firms. The Donated, (first published as Generation), is a thriller based on the dangers of experimenting with viral DNA and ignoring science. It features a techno-phobic journo. XYZ is a mid-life car crash. Jack Cooper works for a super-cool tech firm and can’t operate his own mobile phone. Besides, his life is falling apart because his family is addicted to the internet. Other novels, The Fractured and Foretold, may be available “one day” he says. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads

“We use instant messaging so much at Sweet it can be overwhelming. But there are things you can do
to help keep control of all the conversations going on. One of them is using the rolling eyes.”
I roll my eyes. Metaphorically. Externally I’m smiling and nodding.
“When you get a Lazy IM from a colleague that’s going to take a while to answer, just put in the rolling
eyes. It means you’re looking at it, but it doesn’t start a whole new thread in the inbox.”
“Don’t you just get off your chair and talk to them?” I ask. “Do we really need to know the official way of
using the rolling eyes?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s not really official, Jack. But everybody’s so busy that they prefer to
use the rolling eyes.”
So busy curating their IM feeds, and finding Sweet Creative ways of using the application to avoid real
work.

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway! a Rafflecopter giveaway