Love Don’t Live Here Anymore Book Tour & Giveaway

Love Don’t Live Here Anymore
Andrew Sisters Book 1
by Keke Renee
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Vanessa Andrew is done with love. She decided that from now on, everyone she meets is a suspect. All she wants to do is focus on building her clothing store up, but her plans take an interesting turn when a chance meeting with the handsome owner of the building leaves her confused, frustrated, and her heart pounding.
Isaiah Reed, a playboy by night and business mogul by day, acquires a nearly defunct property; he has no idea that a curvaceous designer is poised to fight him at every turn.
Will the pair on opposite sides of a fight join forces in and out of the bedroom or will their head-to-head challenge lead to disaster?
Warning: 13k Short Story, Adult language, fast paced, explicit sex scenes, with a HFN.This is not a sweet and fluffy romance.
A Tennessee native and CA dreaming Author Keke Renee is living and striving to continue her passion of writing Short Story romances from Erotic, Paranormal and Urban fiction. She also writes under the name Chiquita Dennie.

Forty-five minutes later, I was getting out of my Uber, carrying a sketchbook, coffee mug, and
listening to a classic Tamia song “Stranger in My House” as I returned a text message on my
phone. While closing the door of the Uber, engrossed in my phone, I bumped into a hard body
and fell on my ass, spilling my favorite coffee on my dress, phone, and shoes.
I blew a frustrated breath of air. “What the hell?” I yelled at the person that wasn’t paying
attention.
“Excuse me,” he replied as he gathered his things and bent down to help me, feeling annoyed
with his closeness and my vagina thumping wanting to jump his bones.
Smacked his hand away, I stood up and cursed at the coffee stain on my new dress. “Look what
you did!”
“Lady, you ran into me. If you weren’t so caught up in texting your boyfriend you’d notice
someone coming,” he informed me and started to walk around to go into the office building I
was entering.
“For your information, I wasn’t texting a boyfriend. I was replying to a client and why am I
explaining myself to a stranger,” I responded in annoyance, grabbing my purse, phone, and
sketchbook off the ground. I wiped the liquid off my hands, face, and legs. I noticed he was
holding the door and I rolled my eyes as I walked ahead of him.
“So now you decide to be a Gentleman. All men are just the-”
“Sweetie, my day was going well until you opened your mouth. If you’re done or finished, I’d like
to get on with my business. You’re not hurt so you don’t need medical assistance,” He told me
and walked off toward the elevator.
“I’m not your Sweetie, asshole!” I shouted behind his back.
The demanding tone and angered glare had me a little scared, at the same time wet. I promised
myself after dealing with Troy I’d never date again, but seeing this tall drink of water standing in
front of me up close, had me rethinking a few things. He was about 6’3 in height, with a
moustache and goatee lined up to perfection with no bumps. Whoever his barber is, they’re
doing a great job. Made me want to rub my hand up and down his cheek. He had a low-cut
wave with sharp cheekbones and broad nose. His lips were full, and his skin was a deep brown.
His eyes were deep-set, kind of bugged out with me annoying him, framed with thick, trimmed
eyebrows.
Shaking off any impure thoughts and walking toward the elevator, I got on as the crowd piled
inside. Just my luck we ended up next to each other in the back, with my back to his chest. The
heat radiating off his breath on my neck caused butterflies in my stomach and moisture in my
panties. I closed my eyes. Stay focused.
The elevator finally stopped on my floor and lo and behold, I almost stumbled trying to get
through the crowd, he ends up getting off at the same level.
“Are you following me?” I questioned as we both turned in the same direction.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he responded and walked off toward another glass door, and I stopped at
the receptionist desk. Her name reads Pamela.
“Welcome to Reed and Associates. How can I help you?” Pamela asked.
“Yes, I have an appointment with an Isaiah Reed about my store, “A Style’s Eye” on 2324
Benson Street in Burbank. It’s currently on the market to be sold, and I recently signed a year’s
lease. I have paperwork from the owners of the building that my lease is null and void, because
they sold the building to Reed and Associates without even giving much notice.”
“Do you have an appointment Miss?” Pamela asked rudely and typed my name into the
computer.
“Miss Andrew, and no Pamela, I don’t have an appointment, and I’m not leaving until I speak
with someone in charge!” I raised my voice.
She clenched her fists and looked around at everyone in the lobby watching us.
“I could have security escort you out,” Pamela smugly replied.
Debating if I should snap back at her or not, since I really didn’t have a scheduled appointment.
I thought if I could plead my case the owners would rethink the issue of demolishing the
property. I walked over to the lounge and flopped down on the chair in the lobby and texted my
sister Isabella. Our parents celebrated their twenty-fifth anniversary. Even though Isabella’s a
tax attorney, she could still pull some strings or pretend to anyway, until I can figure out the next
steps.

Hearing a throat clear, and smelling that same cologne from my run in outside, I look up and
see the guy I bumped into.
“Yes?”
“Follow me,” he told me and walked away from me. I could stay seated and wait for my sister to
contact me back; but seeing how far I’ve come, and not wanting to lose my store, I have to push
through and get this fixed before they start construction on tearing my building down.
I grabbed up everything and followed behind Mr. Rude ass.
He stops , and I notice the name on the door is President Isaiah Reed. My stomach started
turning knots. Entering behind him, I stood close by the door as he closed it and motioned with
his hand to take a seat in front of his desk.
As he walked toward me unbuttoning his jacket and stood in front of the desk, I could smell his
cologne lingering in the air. Must have been the Ralph Lauren collection. He leaned his head to
the left and smiled at my flustered state and heavy breathing. I stood up and closed the space
between us, remembering why I was here in the first place.
“Listen, Mr. Reed, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but your company just bought the building my
boutique is inside of, called A Style’s Eye, and I recently signed an agreement for a year’s lease
with the former landlord”.
He stood up, with a mischievous smile on his face. He walked right in front of me, forcing me to
take a step back, so we weren’t chest-to-chest. “I’m not sure why you’ve come to my office
about your store, Mrs.”
“Miss Andrew and you own the company correct?” Feeling my phone vibrate, I glanced down
and saw Isabella replying to meet at her office. Responding with an “okay,” I put my phone away
and shifted from one foot to the other. Crossing my arms over my chest waiting to hear what this
asshole had to say.
“Yes, I own the company, and unfortunately, your business will have to relocate within the
designated time of thirty days. I’m tearing the building down and opening a shopping mall. If you
are looking for a new place in two years, I’d be more than happy to give you first choice at prime
space and pricing,” he
informed me, walking closer and looking down at me with a smirk on his face.
Rolling my eyes, clenching my teeth, and blowing out a strained breath, I sat back down and
thought of another angle to the situation.
“If you need anything else Miss Andrew, I suggest you take it up with my lawyer. He’d be more
than happy to assist you with a resolution to your problem.” He flicked his business card out.
Hesitating to want to accidentally brush against him again, I finally take it out of his hand. Our
fingers grazed and the strongest spark I’ve ever felt before passed between us. “Mr. Reed, you
have no idea what this will do to my business and life. I can’t just move after finally getting

clients and building a name for myself. We can’t all be millionaires like you. Some of us mom-
an- pop owners have to work for a living!”

I stood and put the business card in my purse before storming out of his office and past Pamela
flirting with the security guard as I walked by the receptionist desk.
The wait for my Uber was about five minutes. As I got in the car, I looked back at the building
with a strange feeling that someone was watching me. When I glanced up, Mr. Reed was
standing at his window looking down at me. Not wanting to show any tears, I turned away and
got in the car heading to my sister’s office.

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

For Melissa An Anthology Book Tour & Giveaway


For Melissa: An Anthology
Presented by Wild Dreams Publishing
Genre: Multi Genre
With stories by:
Bella Emy
Shaan Ranae
Jeremy Simons
Rosie Chapel
Veronique Poirier
Sarah Stein
Kristen Collins
Jenee Robinson
Niki
Livingston
Bey
Tolentino
Melisa Lyons
Lori
Hoopengardner
Sonya Jesus
Cam
Johns
Justina Luther
Sheri Branson Chapman
Davina Purnell
K.A. Morse
Melanie Rodriguez
Aim Ruivivar

An anthology dedicated to Melissa Lee, bringing together stories of

strong independent women by some of today’s favorite authors of the
indie community.


When Melissa was diagnosed with cancer
it shook our house to the core.
Within a matter of days we started asking how can we help. The answer
create an anthology dedicated to the strong woman that is our
Melissa. Each story as a set of rules. one the main character is
named Melissa. And her character must be strong. After that each
story comes from the hearts of our authors. This book is forever
dedicated to the teacher that touches the lives of the children that
she meet. The authors who’s lives have now been touched with
her soft touch and strong will. And for the member of our family who
we wish only the very best.
*All proceeds will be benefitting Melissa Lee during this difficult time.
Our hearts & prayers are with her.
~* A special thanks to YM Zachery for her endless dedication
Melissa’s Menagerie
by Lori Hoopengardner
After the death of her
parents, Melissa was
on her own to carry on her family’s secret. She was lonely, scared
and busy. That is until she found some people she could trust.
Friendships and more just seemed to happen.
The Rainbow Truck
by Jeremy Simons
On the backroads of
Louisiana, the unthinkable
happened to Melissa. A truck tried to run her off the road. She could
have let it go, but she was too proud for that. Besides, its color
intrigued her. Oh yeah, and the blood on the tailgate.
She and Scott followed it
to a secluded camp where their fortunes were
forever sealed. She had to fight. She had to stand on her own two
feet. She had to…survive.

But could it be that easy?

Find out in The Rainbow Truck.

Unbound Wonder by Niki Livingston
Melissa’s past doesn’t
define her and she
refuses to allow her teenage trauma to hold her down. Believing in
herself when no one else did, she became an instant fame in the music
industry. And with the public eye on her, it wasn’t a surprise when
she attracted a male admirer who didn’t have her best interest at
heart. Another man who only craved to control and own her.
Now she must face her
fears, both known and unknown, in order to gain the
strength to battle the seemingly never-ending storm threatening her
very existence. Rising to face her foes is only the beginning to
taking back her power.
Lovelight by B. Tolentino
Blind but never felt
unwanted, Melissa Chaplin lives peacefully in New
Hampshire with her mother. Wanting to make progress in her life, she
decides to take a step forward by applying for a part-time job only
to be rejected as soon as she receives the phone call she was so
excited about. Suddenly, the bruising pain of frustration of being
visually impaired envelopes her, causing her to take a huge leap of
faith by agreeing to be a patient to a doctor from Germany she meets
for the first time.

Running from Ghosts by Cam Johns

Not telling the whole truth is the same as lying. It turns out,

withholding secrets is more dangerous than being honest with the one
you love. At least that’s what Melissa has come to realize. Now
being forced to face her deceptions head on as the ghosts of her past
come back to haunt her – threatening the life she has finally built –
Melissa has to find a way to confront her dishonesty without losing
the love of her life.

Onus by Sonya Jesus
Oliver: In onus memoria.
I had it engraved on his
tombstone so that when I went to visit, I could remember Ben died
because I failed to protect him. In my onus, I let guilt corrode
through any attempt at happiness. I let the blame overwhelm me
because I deserved to be punished… He died because I wasn’t watching.

Melissa by Davina Purnell

Oliver’s been coming to group sessions for a year and half now. I wish I could

say he’s slowly getting better, but he’s shown no progress and it
worries me. I don’t know how to break through to him or if he even
wants me to, but I care about him too much not to try.

Till Death by Bella Emy
Happily Ever After.
That’s what Mel thought
she had found the day she met Brad.
Now, married for years
with their two children, Austin and
Brayden, Mel fears for their life. The man she once knew who had been
so loving, supporting and caring has turned into a drunk, alcoholic,
abusive husband and father, stopping at nothing to get his point
across.
Will Mel be able to overcome her dread of living huddled
up in a corner, fearing for her life and that of her sons, or will
Brad place his hands on her one last and final time?
Witch’s Heart by Melanie Rodriguez
Melissa is a sophomore
at the prestigious Circe
Academy, a school that grooms only the finest of witches and
warlocks. She finds herself an outcast to most of her peers and
professors due to her half-human side. Wanting nothing more than to
be a fully-fledged witch, she enlists the help of the wily and
sarcastic spirit fox, Vic, who too has his own agenda. In order to
retrieve the lost half of magic that she needs to accomplish her
goal, Melissa must locate the human the old ritual demands she needs
and must steal their “heart.” When she realizes who that human
is, Melissa finds herself in a bind: does she complete her goal and
fulfill her pact with Vic or does she let the special human go and
continue to live her outcast life without the respect she deserves?
Choices Made by Justina Luther
At the age of 26 I,
Melissa Leighton, thought I had my priorities right.
I worked hard, kept my eye on my goals, and loved my mom and twin
sister with all my heart. I broke my back to make us all proud and be
the first in my family to become a doctor. The funny thing about life
is, every choice we make changes something and the choices I made
threatened to change everything.

My Shadow by Sheri Chapman

Melissa is drawn to wrong side of the law. For now, she contents her intrigue

by pitting herself against the police. Through her own vices, she
must figure out crimes before they can. Not only does it inspire her
writing career, but it also gives her life an exciting edge. However,
Melissa is being watched. The innovative woman must determine if her
life in endanger before it’s too late…


From the Ashes by Sarah Stein
How far would you go to
survive?
Melissa was the perfect
child. She never complained,
did amazing in school
and made her parents happy.
Or so she thought. Everything changed when she was told to pack her
bags, and leave with a man she’s never met. But all is not what it
seems as she has to fight not to lose herself in his custody.

Also includes:

Bittersweet Resilience by Shaan Ranae

The Ladie’s Wager by Rosie Chapel

All For You by Veronique Poirier

The Lupie Warrior by Kristen Collins

Typical Hunter Day by Jenee Robinson

Melissa, The Queen of the Fairies by M.L. Ruscsak

Melissa and the Lost Tomb of Akila by K.A. Morse

Club Hooligans by Aim Ruivivar

**Only 99 cents!!**

 


 

Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!

 

 

 


The Hidden Cities Book Tour & Giveaway


Mind the Gap
The Hidden Cities Book 1
by Christopher Golden & Tim Lebbon
Genre: Dark Urban Fantasy Thriller

“The super-fast pacing and creepy touches give this teen adventure plenty

of character.”—Publishers
Weekly

Returning to her home in London, teen Jasmine Towne realizes just how
long
she’s been training for the moment she would be on her own. Her
paranoid mother’s last words, scrawled in her own blood, demand her
action: JAZZ HIDE FOREVER. In this moment, the strange men who have
always hung around her family’s life—whom her mother called the
Uncles—become starkly sinister. And they’re on her trail.
Seeking cover in the Underground, Jazz slips through a mysterious gate,
down
tunnels, and seemingly through time. Inside an abandoned city of bomb
shelters and forgotten Tube stations, she finds temporary refuge with
a gang of petty thieves. Flashes of the past, spectral and haunting,
share the tunnels…with no regard for the living. For how long can
Jazz hide from the terrors of both her worlds?
 
 

The Map of Moments
The Hidden Cities Book 2
To what
lengths would you go to undo the pain of the past?
“Golden and Lebbon have far
outstripped their past efforts with this
wonderfully creepy thriller of a ghost story.”
Publishers Weekly
starred review
“Golden and Lebbon vividly evoke the
rich, enduring character of New Orleans,
as well as spinning a compelling fantasy yarn that builds momentum as
Max works his way through the city’s history.” —
Booklist
Max Corbett has returned to New Orleans for the funeral of his former
girlfriend, Gabrielle Doucette, but between the destruction wrought
by Hurricane Katrina and the devastation of his ruined relationship,
the city feels alien.
At Gabrielle’s graveside, Max meets Ray. Over a bottle of bourbon in a
dive bar, the two discuss Gabrielle’s unique connection to the city.
Ray suggests that this connection might mean her tragic death is not
truly her end. And he happens to know a real magic practitioner—not
some Bourbon Street phony—who could open a window to the past and
send a warning to Gabrielle. Maybe Max can even deliver the warning
in person? Ray offers him a cheap map and says the process is simple.
Follow the charted moments to build up a little bit of magical clout
and then find the man with the gift.
Surging with liquid courage, Max takes the ludicrous tourist map and sets
off. But it turns out this quest is not so easy. When Max enters theFirst Moment, he is drawn into the fabric of history to witness dark
and violent periods, and with each passing step, a grim conspiracy is
revealed. Suddenly in too deep, there is nowhere for Max to go but
through. But when you trudge through a swamp, you’re going to get muddy.
 
 

The Chamber of Ten
The Hidden Cities Book 3

Archaeologist Dr. Geena Hodge is on the precipice of success: her team has found an

entrance to an underground chamber while searching for the Petrarch’s
lost library. A documentarian is joining her team for the descent
into the long-hidden structure and may be the key to extensive
funding. Best of all, she is able to share the excitement of this
momentous occasion with her assistant-slash-lover, Nico, whose
psychic presence resonates in her own mind.

Within a strikingly preserved room—unlike any Venetian excavation—
the
team finds only one artifact: a small vessel that immediately
mesmerizes Nico. While the team investigates a slab of granite inlaid
in the floor, Nico becomes transfixed by the object, and before he
can be stopped, he has the urn in his hands. Then, it is broken open
on the ground. And with that, the impossibly withheld groundwater
begins to fill the chamber…
In the clamor to escape the rapidly flooding room and save the found
texts, the team is sent in all directions. And Nico’s mind, always
attuned to Geena’s, seems to go quiet. His actions in the days
after the incident feel unlike him, and his consciousness seems to
dissolve beneath the weight of his experience with the artifact. What
insidious force was within? And what can satisfy its restless will?
 
 

The Shadow Men
The Hidden Cities Book 4

From Beacon Hill to Southie, historic Boston is a town of vibrant

neighborhoods knit into a seamless whole. But as Jim Banks and Trix
Newcomb learn in a terrifying instant, it is also a city
divided—split into three separate versions of itself by a mad
magician once tasked with its protection.

Jim is happily married to Jenny, with whom he has a young daughter,
Holly. Trix is Jenny’s best friend, practically a member of the
family—although she has secretly been in love with Jenny for years.
Then Jenny and Holly inexplicably disappear—and leave behind a
Boston in which they never existed. Only Jim and Trix remember them.
Only Jim and Trix can bring them back.
With the help of Boston’s Oracle, an elderly woman with magical
powers,
Jim and Trix travel between the fractured cities, for that is where
Jenny and Holly have gone. But more is at stake than one family’s
happiness. If Jim and Trix should fail, the spell holding theseparate Bostons apart will fail too, and the cities will reintegrate
in a cataclysmic implosion. Someone, it seems, wants just that.
Someone with deadly shadow men at their disposal.
 
 
 
 

 

CHRISTOPHER GOLDEN

is the New York Times bestselling author of such novels as Ararat,
Snowblind, Tin Men, The Myth Hunters, Wildwood Road, The Boys Are
Back in Town, The Ferryman, Strangewood, and Of Saints and Shadows.
He has also written books for teens and young adults, including
Poison Ink, Soulless, and the thriller series Body of Evidence,
honored by the New York Public Library and chosen as one of YALSA’s
Best Books for Young Readers.

Goldenco-created (with Mike Mignola)
two cult favorite comic book series,
Baltimore and Joe Golem: Occult Detective. As an editor, he has
worked on the short story anthologies Seize the Night, The New Dead,
and Dark Cities, among others, and has also written and co-written
comic books, video games, screenplays, a BBC radio play, the online
animated series Ghosts of Albion (with Amber Benson), and a network
television pilot. A frequent speaker at conferences, schools, and
libraries, Golden is also co-host of the podcasts Three Guys with
Beards and Defenders Dialogue, and the founder of the Merrimack
Valley Halloween Book Festival.

 

Golden was born and raised in Massachusetts, where he still lives with
hisfamily. His original novels have been published in more than fourteen
languages in countries around the world.
 
 

TIM LEBBON

has been published for over twenty years and have written over forty
horror, dark fantasy and tie-in novels, including The Silence,
Relics, Coldbrook, The Cabin in the Woods, the Noreela series of
fantasy books (Dusk, Dawn, Fallen and The Island), the NY Times
Bestselling novelisation of the movie 30 Days of Night, Alien: Out of
the Shadows, Star Wars: Dawn of the Jedi – Into the Void, and several
books with Christopher Golden, including Blood of the Four, The Map
of Moments and The Secret Journeys of Jack London. He’s also written
hundreds of novellas and novels and have won several prestigious awards.
The movie of The Silence, starring Stanley Tucci and Kiernan Shipka, is
out summer 2018. Pay the Ghost, starring Nicolas Cage, was released
in 2016. More of his work is currently in development for the big screen.
 

Map of Moments
Corinne drove south on Interstate 10 with the windows down, making a wind tunnel out of her
beat-up old Chevy Corsica. Max didn’t complain. The car had no air-conditioning, and the
afternoon was warm and humid. Back home in Boston, November meant chilly days and chillier
nights. But that Louisiana day, winter felt a whole world away.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” he said, fifteen minutes south of the airport.
“Not a problem. Guy like you, if you’d gotten a rental, you’d probably have been carjacked
before you got anywhere near your hotel.”
Max stared at her, waiting for the smile. It didn’t come.
“You’re serious.”
Corinne kept both hands on the wheel and her eyes straight ahead. There’d been precious little
small talk at the airport, and even less since.
“We’re a little short on jokes down here, lately,” she said. “So yeah, I’m serious. It’s rough. The
city’s still reeling.” She trailed off, but Max sensed that she had more to say, so he gave her the
silence in which to speak. After a pause, she did. “They’ve got hundreds of dead folk in a
warehouse over by the Superdome. Doing DNA tests, supposedly, trying to figure out who they
all are. If I hadn’t laid claim to Gaby, she’d probably still be over there. Maybe forever. French
Quarter’s back up and running, other parts of the city, too. High ground. You’ll be fine in your
hotel. But some areas, it’s still a war zone. Might as well be in Baghdad. A lot of the folks that
left, maybe most of ’em, aren’t ever coming back. Some places, it’s like the apocalypse came.
There’s talk of rebuilding, but it’s never gonna happen. That’s the first sign of a crumbling
empire, Max.
Cities fall and nobody builds ’em up again.”
He kept staring at her, but Corinne still didn’t turn to him. Max became keenly aware of his
hands, as though he should be able to do something with them, maybe try to offer her comfort,
or send up a prayer to God. But he barely knew Corinne, and he and God were strangers.
After a couple of minutes, the time when he should have said something in reply passed, so he
stopped seeking the words.
Corinne and Gabrielle were cousins, Creole girls who’d never be mistaken for white but whose
skin forever marked them out among the black population of New Orleans. Max had never
understood the politics of hue, and always feared expressing an opinion on the subject. He was
white and from Boston, and he couldn’t claim to know a damn thing about New Orleans. So he
kept his mouth shut. All he knew was that even before he’d met Gabrielle he had thought a
mixed-race heritage produced the most beautiful children, and that there must be some lesson
the world should learn from that. Meeting Gabrielle had cemented this belief.Riding in the car beside her, Max saw some of that same beauty in Corinne. They’d met half a
dozen times when he’d been involved with Gabrielle, but he’d never really noticed her looks.
She simply didn’t have her cousin’s presence. Gabrielle had burned brightly; Corinne had been
in her shadow. But apparently it hadn’t stopped her from loving Gabrielle.
Abruptly, she turned and shot him a hard look. “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”
“You look a little like her,” Max said.
“I’m nothing like her!” Corinne snapped, turning her gaze back to the road ahead. The hurt in
her voice didn’t surprise him, but the anger did.
“Are we really going to be the only people at the funeral?”
Corinne softened. “Our family shut her out; you know that.
The ones who are still in the city, they live Uptown. When she was alive, they’d cross the street
if they saw her coming. Now that she’s dead, they won’t be going out of their way to say good-
bye. Could be some of her friends’ll have heard and come along and surprise me, but I doubt it.
Lots of people have been shipped out. Those who are still here are looking after themselves and
their own. It’s all right, though.”
Max looked out the window, watching the side of the highway where wind-downed trees and
abandoned cars remained, part of the debris left behind by the storm.
“Two people,” he said quietly. “How can that be all right?”
“Ah, she wouldn’t mind so much,” Corinne said. “She didn’t have but the two of us who really
loved her. We’ll be there. That’s as it should be.”
Max swallowed hard. His throat had gone dry. “I’m not sure—”
“Don’t even start. She put the knife in you deep, man. I know that. But don’t try to tell me you
stopped loving her because of it.
I know better.”
Irritated, he narrowed his eyes and studied her. “You think so?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Max opened his mouth, but closed it again. The Doucette women had a habit of leaving him
speechless.

 

Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!

 
 
 

Holiday Hijinks Book Tour, Guest Post, and Giveaway


Holiday Hijinks
Halliday Theater #1
by Katherine Moore
Genre: Cozy Holiday Romance

It’s Christmas, and this year Emily Halliday is trying something new at

the struggling revival movie theater she runs for her
great-grandmother. After all, how many times can you show It’s a
Wonderful Life
?

Emily was hoping to make a little profit on “Holiday Hijinks,” her

“counter-programming Christmas” event. What she never
expected—plot twist—is that an unexpected guest will turn her own
life into a romantic comedy.


Holiday Hijinks is the first in a new series of cozy romances set in the
small Pacific Northwest town of Silver Birch, Washington. A short
read (15K) for a busy time, Holiday Hijinks introduces a whole
new cast of characters while bringing back “cameos” from the
“Meredith Manor Hotel” books, which are also set in Silver Birch.

If you love movies and food and romance as cozy as flannel jammies,

Holiday Hijinks is the Christmas read for you.

**Only .99 cents!!**

 

 
 
Born in
Washington, D.C., Katherine Moore now lives in a small Pacific
Northwest town very much like Silver Birch. She has worked as a food
writer, a caterer, and a movie extra as well as a freelance lifestyle
reporter and staff writer for magazines in Honolulu, Los Angeles, and
Richmond, Virginia.
 

Let the Feasting Begin

I mostly grew up in Virginia, so Christmas meant visits to my maternal grandparents’ house
where my mother and aunts turned the occasion into a foodie version of the Olympics. Mickey
looks strong coming into the sides with her corn pudding but contenders Helen and Mabel could
offer her a real challenge with their bacon-wrapped Brussels sprouts and green beans
almandine.
In most families, everyone would divide up the dishes and one person would bring the
sweet potatoes and one person would bring the mashed potatoes and so on. Amateurs the
women of the Moore family would scoff. And so my mother would bring grated sweet potato
pudding, Aunt Mabel would bring the candied yams, and Aunt Helen would offer sweet potato
timbales with crushed cornflakes on the outside and marshmallows hidden inside like sweet
lava.
It was the same with the other side dishes—especially for potatoes. There were always
mashed potatoes, potatoes roasted with root vegetables until crackly and delicious, and boiled
red potatoes with butter and parsley. (The day after Christmas morning, my mother always
sliced up the leftover boiled potatoes and fried them with onions for breakfast. I was convinced
she made extra just so there would be plenty for breakfast.)
The one thing everyone agreed on was pie. No one really liked mincemeat pie or
pumpkin pie so the majority ruled and the dessert was pecan pie. I loved pecan pie, so I was
fine going along with everyone. But I also love pumpkin pie, just not enough to buy a whole pie
for myself.
Imagine my delight when I discovered the joys of baking things in a mug. This Pumpkin
Pie for One became one of my favorite solo holiday indulgences.

Pumpkin Pie For One

1 microwave-safe mug (10 ounces or larger)
For crust
1 tsp. butter, preferably unsalted
2-3 small gingersnap cookies, crushed fine
Melt the butter in the bottom of the mug. (Use the low power setting)
Stir in the crushed gingersnaps and press into the bottom of the mug to make a crust.
For filling
1 egg
1 Tbsp. whole milk
2 Tbsp. light brown sugar
1/3 cup unsweetened canned pumpkin (not pumpkin pie filling)
1⁄2 tsp. cinnamon
1⁄4 tsp. nutmeg
1⁄4 tsp. ginger (May substitute 1 tsp. of pumpkin pie spice for the cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger)
Instructions:
Mix the milk, egg, brown sugar, pumpkin, and spices together in a small bowl.
Pour “pie filling” into the mug over the crust.
Put the mug on a microwave-safe plate and nuke at full power for 2 1⁄2 to 5 minutes. (Cooking times vary
—check on it after two minutes and remove the “pie” when a knife comes out clean.)

 

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for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!




Head Over Feet In Love Book Tour & Giveway


Head Over Feet in Love
by Patti F. Smith
Genre: Chick-Lit, Romance

Rebecca Slater is running away from a stay in a mental health facility, a

writing career that never got off the ground, and a dying best
friend. She has nowhere to go, but nothing can stop her—until she
crashes her car into a tree, possibly on purpose, but probably not.
Without a cell phone and in a strange town, Becca starts knocking on
doors, looking for someone to help her. The only person who answers
her call is Mike Riley.

Becca and Mike begin a friendship that neither realizes they need. A
firebrand feminist devoted to all things Generation X, Becca shares
her unique life view with Mike and finds an ally in the reclusive and
shy man. Becca tells him her story and the pair falls in love slowly,
and then passionately, realizing that two lost souls have finally
found each other.
When Becca thinks Mike is dead, she impulsively runs away again, this
time
to a place where she thinks no one will ever find her. She prepares
for a life without her true love, but committed to remaining mentally
healthy and strong, continuing her story that she now believes will
have an unhappy ending.
But will it?
 
 
Patti F. Smith is the author of two books: Images
of America–Downtown Ann Arbor
and
A
History of the People’s Food Co-op Ann Arbor

(and
of the forthcoming
Forgotten Ann Arbor, which will be
published in 2019).
She has written for CraftBeer.com, Concentrate, Mittenbrew, The
Ann, AADL’s Pulp blog,
and the Ann Arbor Observer. A former legal aid lawyer and
current special
education teacher, Patti serves as a commissioner for the Public Art
Commission and the Recreation Advisory Commission, as a storyteller
in the Ann Arbor Storytellers’ Guild, volunteers for the Ann Arbor
Film Festival and WCBN.
Patti lives in her favorite
city on earth, Ann Arbor, with her husband Ken
Anderson and their pets. HEAD OVER FEET IN LOVE is her first novel.
 

I’m driving away. I’m driving away as fast and as far as I can. I’m never going
back. I’m going to drive until I get so far up north that no one will ever find me. I’m
going to—
Except that I’m not. I can’t leave home now. Not with my best friend in a coma, not
with my parents tripped out, not with all that’s going on. Not with bipolar disorder
and anxiety and everything else. I’m still driving away, mind you, but I’ll have to go
back. As soon as the rain lets up, I’ll turn around and head back to US-23. It’s
really pouring though, and I don’t like driving in the rain, so I might have to find a
hotel and stay the night. I’ll have to call my parents, except I don’t have a phone
anymore, and with Rick in the hospital, it all means—
It means that I have no way to call anyone when my car hits the tree.
Goddamn it! My air bag merrily pops out at me, and I start to cough as I inhale the
powder that comes out with it. Without thinking about whether or not I might be
hurt, I throw open the door and climb out of my Jeep.
As the rain soaks me, I look at my Jeep and let out a groan. Goddamn it. Steam
pours out of the engine, and the car wheezes. Shit. Don’t cars sometimes explode
in the movies when steam is rushing out of them? This could suck.
I grab my purse and Red Wings jersey out of the car, cautiously backing away. I
reach for my cell phone before remembering that it had been with Rick when his
canoe upended on the Huron River, and it changed everything. Shit.
Okay, Becca, don’t panic. Don’t panic. Think. Where are the nearest houses
where you can—
The car burps, and smoke puffs from under the hood. I swear the Jeep looks mad.
It belches again and then kinda rumbles at me. One headlight winks at me before
it goes out. The Jeep makes a noise I have never heard it make before.
Okay, now we panic.
I turn and run up the nearest driveway. I pound on the door, but no one answers.
“Help!” I call, before remembering the self-defense course my mom made me take
in seventh grade, which had taught me that people respond well to shouts of “fire,”
but not so well to shouts for “help.” “Fire!” I call helpfully.
“Well, screw you, too!” I say to the door before racing to the next house where
again I pound and pound.
Finally, a voice says, “What do you want?”
I squint in through the window to see a tiny elderly man. “The phone!” I yelp.
“What do you want?” he repeats, as if I haven’t spoken.
“The—this!” I mimic a phone by putting my thumb to my ear and my pinky to my
mouth. He still looks confused, so I start talking into my pinky like a fool. I
remember an improv teacher saying that you shouldn’t imitate a phone that way
lest people think you are talking into your finger like a dork, so I pretend that I
have an old timey Star Trek communicator and start talking in a Captain Kirkvoice.
The man shakes his head and says, “You don’t make any sense, girly. You go
away now.”
I wonder if I really don’t make any sense, or if he’s just offended by my James T.
Kirk impression. I walk off the porch and feel something hit my face. I look up and
realize it’s hailing. Oh, nice. I put the Wings jersey on, because surely this will stop
the ice from hitting me.
I race down the hill and up the block. It takes eons to reach the next driveway. I’m
out of breath, but I start to race up toward the house on the hill. I climb and climb
before I realize that I have, indeed, picked the steepest driveway. Because of
course I did.
Damn, this hill is steep. I wish I hadn’t decided to run away. I wish Ricky had eaten
better and hadn’t screwed up his heart. I wish I had my cell phone. I wish I could
call my parents. I wish. I know, I know, if wishes were horses … a saying I never
really quite understood, but whatever.
The house on the hill enters my line of vision and I stand, contemplating it. Big,
dark brick. Two stories, with black shutters on all eight windows. If I had gone into
architecture instead of law, I would know the style. As it is, my brain can only
conjure up images like the enormous land contract or mortgage on the house.
Hell, if that shit had cropped up on the Bar, maybe I would have passed it.
My thoughts of property law flutter away when I notice a curtain move in the big
bay window, as if someone inside has just peeked out. Oh yeah, baby—the doctor
is in.
I take a breath and run up to the door. One sign reads, “No Peddlers or Solicitors”,
because peddlers are really a thing these days. Another warns of “No
Trespassing! This means YOU.”
“Bite me,” I mutter, and punch the bell. Come on, my man! If you rustle that
curtain, you can open that door. “I need help! I crashed my Jeep down the hill
there. I need a phone.”
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz. The hail picks up and blows onto the porch, pummeling me. The
more I get hit, the more I want to ram in through the bay window like the Kool-Aid
Man. The more I get hit, the more depressed I become.
Suddenly, I stop ringing the bell, knowing that I am being ignored. “Seriously?
Really?” I announce to the empty porch. I have become a walking first-world
problem, and I hate everything.
My very best friend is in a medically induced coma following two heart attacks and
a stroke. Two heart attacks and a stroke. I have to say it twice sometimes. Just
because I have to. My parents go to the hospital every day, sitting, waiting,
hoping. I have a year off from school, so I can write a book, but I can’t write a
word. And now my beloved Jeep is in a strange neighborhood, making noises like
the Candyman.

I sit on the porch swing. Pin pricks of ice, drops of cold rain, all at once. Passive-
aggressive suicidal. That’s what a shrink called me once. Drives recklessly, drinks

until black out, refuses to look both ways before crossing the road. Latent death
wish. Blah blah blah blah blah. Why, yes. I do feel all of this now, because
hashtag “first-world problems” I don’t have a phone.
The rain continues. It gets darker. I think about throwing out the pills, magically
fixing the Jeep, and driving into something. Driving into a freeway concrete barrier.
Driving into a river, like where my friend was when he had his two heart attacks
and his stroke. His two heart attacks and a stroke. I see Rick’s face above me. He
has no eyes. Jesus! I holler out so loudly that I wake myself up.
I look around, my heart pounding. Incredible. Freezing, wet, miserable–and I fall
asleep. I truly amaze myself at times. I shake my head, like that will clear things
up for me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the curtain flicker again.
“Okay, asshole!” I call to it. “I’m cold, and I’m wet, and my car is dead! I need a
phone! I need a phone now!” Because surely, the addition of the word “now” will
get things on and popping. “Please?” I add.
Nothing. No flicker of movement. Nothing.
“Well, go to hell then!” I shout, and sit back down on the swing. What the hell is
wrong with this neighborhood? I grew up in the best place on earth, where people
at least it’s called. I sit with my knees to my chest, my head buried.
“Why are you here?”
I literally jump off the swing in utter terror. Naturally, I only land on my left foot, my
right foot catching on the swing. I do a quick dance before falling onto my butt.
I keep my head lowered, crying and wanting to blame someone else for this mess.
I start going through names in my head. I start with Melissa from first grade. She
was a know-it-all brat. I can’t imagine what she’s like now.
A hand appears before my face. I take it and allow the stranger, now known as
The Man Behind the Curtain, to pull me to my feet.
He repeats himself. “Why are you here? Did you come to get a report on me and
turn it into local folklore?”
At first, I think he’s kidding. I look at him for the first time, but I can’t see his face.
Dressed in a hooded rain coat and looking like Paddington the Bear and the
Gorton fish stick guy’s bastard child, his features are hidden from me.
“My car—” My voice breaks. I clear my throat. “My car crashed. I crashed it. I think
maybe on purpose.” I say this out loud for the first time, not knowing if it’s true.
Silence. Finally, he turns and walks back to the house, leaving me alone. Tears
slip down my cheeks. He’s going to leave me out here to freeze, I realize.
But then he turns. “Aren’t you coming in?”

 

Follow the tour HERE

for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!