Murder Strikes a Pose (A Downward Dog Mystery) by @TracyWeberTypes #Excerpt #Giveaway

In this excerpt, Kate has been forced to take Bella back to her original owner, who she suspects has abused the dog in the past.

I turned off the car and confirmed the address. Bella’s Dash Point home was, as George described it, gorgeous. Most of my Ballard bungalow would easily fit in its three-car garage. The front of the house faced a large, open yard, and its abundant west-facing windows opened to a stunning Puget Sound view. For a moment, I allowed myself to rekindle a spark of hope. Maybe Betty was right; maybe Bella belonged here. I got out of the car and prepared to put on Bella’s leash.

A low, menacing rumble froze me in my tracks. I noticed the stake first, then ran my eyes up the chain. It ended in the spiked leather collar of a large, muscle-bound rottweiler. A rottweiler with big teeth. Big, pointy teeth. The kind of teeth that would thoroughly enjoy sharpening themselves on the femur bone of a trespassing yoga teacher. The term “junkyard dog” suddenly sounded cute and cuddly. Somehow I doubted Bella would like her new brother.

“Wait here, Bella. I’ll be right back.”

Bella cowered, hiding in the back seat’s far corner. Frankly, I wished I could hide back there with her. Instead, I stood frozen in the driveway, debating the wisdom of entering that Rottie’s coveted yard.

Finally, the front door opened, and a short, dark-haired man swaggered out, closely followed by a timid-looking blonde. He wore black ostrich skin cowboy boots and the facial expression of a mean-spirited long-haul trucker. She wore a tentative smile and expertly applied makeup that couldn’t completely hide the greenish-yellow bruise underneath her right eye. I had a terrible feeling that Bella wasn’t the only one this Trucker Man liked to kick around. My earlier spark of hope fizzled, replaced by a slow, burning rage.

Trucker Man turned to the woman. “Go back inside. I’ll take care of this.” He scowled as the door closed softly behind her. “You the woman who stole my dog?”

I glared right back at him. “I told you on the phone last night. I didn’t steal her. I’ve just been taking care of her since my friend passed away.” I nodded toward the still-growling Rottie. “I see you’ve already got another dog.”

“Yeah, a good one this time.”

“I don’t think you should take the shepherd back then. She doesn’t like other dogs.”

“That’s none of your concern. Give me the dog and get on your way.”

I stood there a full minute, staring him down, willing my eyes to turn him to stone. I didn’t want to give Bella back to this jerk. In fact, I would have preferred to dance barefoot through a football field covered in broken glass. But Betty’s orders were unequivocal: unless I had proof of abuse, I had to surrender Bella to her original owner, no matter how odious he might be. So I forced myself back to the car, hooked on Bella’s lead, and tried to coax her out of the back seat.

Tried, to no avail. Bella dug her paws into the upholstery and leaned away from me, transforming herself from an eighteen-month-old dog to a stubborn eighty-pound pack mule. I pulled with all my might. She refused to budge.

“Come on, Bella! You’re home now. Everything’s going to be fine.” She looked at me with large, frightened, eyes. We both knew I was lying.

When George and Bella—a homeless alcoholic and his intimidating German shepherd—disturb the peace outside her studio, yoga instructor Kate Davidson’s Zen-like calm is stretched to the breaking point. Kate tries to get rid of them before Bella scares the yoga pants off her students. Instead, the three form an unlikely friendship.

One night Kate finds George’s body behind her studio. The police dismiss his murder as a drug-related street crime, but she knows George wasn’t a dealer. So Kate starts digging into George’s past while also looking for someone to adopt Bella before she’s sent to the big dog park in the sky. With the murderer nipping at her heels, Kate has to work fast or her next Corpse Pose may be for real.

Praise:

"Cozy fans will eagerly await the next installment." —PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

"Murder Strikes a Pose, by Tracy Weber, is a delightful debut novel featuring Kate Davidson, a caring but feist yoga teacher . . . Namaste to Weber and her fresh, new heroine!" —PENNY WARNER,AUTHOR OFHOW TO DINE ON KILLER WINE

"[T]his charming debut mystery . . . pieces together a skillful collage of mystery, yoga, and plenty of dog stories against the unique backdrop of Seattle characters and neighborhoods. The delightful start of a promising new series. I couldn't put it down!" —WAVERLY FITZGERALD, AUTHOR OF DIAL C FOR CHIHUAHUA

"Three woofs for Tracy Weber's first Downward Dog Mystery, Murder STrikes a Pose. Great characters, keep-you-guessing plot, plenty of laughs, and dogs—what more could we want? Ah, yes—the next book!" —SHEILA WEBSTER BONEHAM, AUTHOR OF DROP DEAD ON RECALL

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Genre – Cozy Mystery

Rating – PG

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Heavyweight #Excerpt by MB Mulhall @MBMulhall #LGBT #YA #GoodReads

SO I’VE got six rules for dating. They go like this:

1) Never date the same person for more than one month.

2) Never date the same person twice.

3) Always behave like a gentleman, but try to remain distant and aloof.

4) Never give more than a kiss. Preferably short pecks. Definitely no tongue.

5) For the love of God, no touching breasts!

6) Always end it with an “It’s not you, it’s me” speech, highlighting her greatness while making yourself out to be the dog.

I’ve got my reasons, and these keep me sane. Keeps most of the girls from getting too attached and keeps my balls intact after I let them go.

A brunette ball of energy bounds my way, all smiles and twinkling eyes. My name is on her glossy coral lips, and her curves are probably the focus of every hot-blooded male standing on the green. Holding back a sigh, I open my arms to receive her, but as she’s rocketing my way, something—or actually someone—catches my attention.

Who.

Is.

That?

Shoulder-length black hair with… are those blue stripes artfully running through it? Skin like porcelain. The sun reflects off a silver lip ring. It seems to be winking at me. Slight build, yet the skintight tee shows that he must work out.

Shit. My jaw is hanging and there is drool on my chin. My teeth snap closed, and I try to focus on the girl hugging me. Maggie’s soft body is rubbing up against mine as she greets me, but I cannot seem to avert my gaze from the new boy. Who is that Adonis?

Dream Boy turns his head and our eyes meet.

Hole-lee shit.

I swear my knees go weak. What the hell? Since when do I have lame Harlequin Romance-type reactions like that? What’s next, gushing with the girls over how hot this guy is? Somehow, I don’t think my girlfriend will appreciate that. Somehow, I don’t think anyone in this town would be down with that. Anger overtakes my lust as I picture everything I’ve worked for going down the drain thanks to this guy. I need to snap out of it.

Secrets. Their weight can be crushing, but their release can change everything—and not necessarily for the better. Ian is no stranger to secrets. Being a gay teen in a backwater southern town, Ian must keep his orientation under wraps, especially since he spends a lot of time with his hands all over members of the same sex, pinning their sweaty, hard bodies to the wrestling mat.

When he’s trying not to stare at teammates in the locker room, he’s busy hiding another secret—that he starves himself so he doesn’t get bumped to the next weight class.

Enter Julian Yang, an Adonis with mesmerizing looks and punk rocker style. Befriending the flirtatious artist not only raises suspicion among his classmates, but leaves Ian terrified he’ll give in to the desires he’s fought to ignore.

As secrets come to light, Ian’s world crumbles. Disowned, defriended, and deserted by nearly everyone, Ian’s one-way ticket out of town is revoked, leaving him trapped in a world he hates—and one that hates him back.

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Genre - LGBT, YA

Rating – PG-13

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Website http://keystrokesandwordcounts.wordpress.com/

#Author Chat with A.F. Ebbers (Dangerous Past) #Mystery #Thriller

What are you most proud of in your personal life?

Flying for my country as a military pilot.

What books did you love growing up?

As a young boy I first started reading the King Author knighthood series of books.

Who is your favorite author?

There’s so many. But Ernest K Gann, Antoine de Saint-Exupery, F. Scott Fitzgerald and James Patterson, and John Grisham, etc.

What book genre of books do you adore?

Aviation, mystery, suspense.

What book should everybody read at least once?

“1984.”

Is there any books you really don’t enjoy?

I never enjoyed “Tess of the D’urbervilles.”

What do you hope your obituary will say about you?

He’s off to another adventure.

Where do you get your inspiration from?

From my environment.

What is hardest – getting published, writing or marketing?

It’s getting published and marketing.

Is your family supportive? Do your friends support you?

Yes.

Airline Captain Frank Braden is being stalked by unknown assailants who must arrange his death to look like a suicide or an accident before a specific deadline. He receives an unsigned message warning him against attending a Senate hearing in Washington. If he agrees, he will receive a million dollars and his wife's life.

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Genre - Mystery, Suspense, Thriller

Rating - G

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Website afebbers.com

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Incitement by David Graham @davidangraham #Thriller #BlogTour #JohnMurray

When they could not convene at Madrigal’s island fortress on Saint Kitts, the Alliance used a dedicated secure satellite link that had been purchased at great cost. Half a dozen of the top Mexican figures from the organization had gathered in Esteban Zaragosa’s vast, heavily secured Barragán residence, in one of the wide, tree-lined streets of the Colonia Roma area. This teleconference had been called by Caesar Rodriguez, who had emerged from the pack in recent months to become the defacto number two to Zaragosa. The subject at hand was the attack of a few months prior on the heroin refinery in Conchillo.

“Cigarette butts? I don’t understand,” one of the Peruvian contingent said.

“The ends of a particular brand of cigarette, Classic, manufactured by …,” Rodriguez looked at the report in front of him and mangled the pronunciation, “… by Duvanska Industrija Nis. It’s a company based in the former Yugoslavia. The brand is popular in the region but otherwise rare.”

“And your man in the Interior Ministry thinks the fact that one of the gunmen may have smoked foreign cigarettes is important?” the Peruvian continued.

“More importantly, Campas, the head of their Anti-Drug Force, thinks it’s important and that bastard is rarely wrong,” Rodriquez replied.

The tall, powerfully built Rodriguez had been working into a simmering rage even before the meeting had commenced, and the slowness of the other callers to grasp the significance of what he was saying was only adding to this. He shook his head in irritation.

Esteban Zaragosa gestured to Rodriguez that he would elaborate. The Mexican cartel leader had been largely silent since the opening pleasantries.

“Campas’s report indicates a mercenary-style attack, and mercenaries are one thing that is in abundant supply in the Balkans,” Zaragosa explained.

“We can’t let this attack go unanswered,” Rodriguez pressed.

Almost two thousand miles away on the outskirts of Bogota, it was clear to Luis Madrigal that Rodriquez was trying to drum up support and, in doing so, force Madrigal into a course of action.

“Normally I’d agree, but before we can retaliate we need to be sure who to retaliate against.” Madrigal had to be careful; he wanted to be firm without appearing dictatorial.

Rodriguez exploded.

“The report I received yesterday contains definitive fucking evidence. The Kosovars are behind the attack, and if we don’t retaliate they’ll be encouraged to go further. We have to act now to show them that this time they’re not dealing with a bunch of putas.”

“Cigarette butts are hardly justification to start a war that could potentially set us back years. Let’s wait to see what else this policeman, whom you rate so highly, comes up with.” Madrigal was well aware of Campas’s pedigree, but this wasn’t the time to acknowledge it.

“We’re not in a fucking courtroom: we only need to satisfy ourselves. I said months ago that the Kosovars, whom you were so happy to approach with talk of closer partnership, represented our biggest fucking threat. They pushed out the Italians, Pakistani, and Lebanese in Europe, and now they’re looking at us. They’ve done business with you and have plainly evaluated you to be weak and vulnerable.”

Madrigal was somewhat surprised. He knew some of the Mexicans, most notably Rodriguez, harbored resentment at what they felt was their subordinate role, but none of them had ever gone this far. Clearly, Rodriguez’s rage was directing him now.

“And you, Caesar, do you agree that I’m weak and vulnerable?”

Although he had remained calm and not raised his voice, something had changed in Madrigal’s tone, and the rest of the Colombian contingent began to shift uncomfortably in their chairs.

Whether due to his anger or his remove from Madrigal, Rodriguez ranted on. “You’re vulnerable if you don’t see the threat! When enemies perceive you to be weak, then you are weak!”

Only when the last word had tumbled out did Rodriguez appear to realize the implication of what he was saying. He glanced around at the other people in the room, all of whom were avoiding eye contact with him, even Zaragosa. Madrigal had ruthlessly clawed his way to the top of Colombia’s drugs elite and then, against all the odds, had pulled the many widely divergent Central and South American cartels together to form the Alliance. It was suicide to challenge his strength so directly.

“Luis, forgive me, I’m not expressing myself properly. There’s no question that you’re more than capable of dealing with any threat. It’s just I appreciate the great number of demands being placed on you. A possible danger might be easily averted now with swift action but be more difficult if left to fester.”

Madrigal took a moment, letting the silence underline Rodriguez’s retreat, before replying. “Here’s what I think. The operation, as you pointed out, bore all the trademarks of a mercenary attack. Many mercenaries operate in Central and South America and, in recent years, some have probably gained employment in the Balkans. So, the cigarettes don’t necessarily indicate someone in the employ of the Kosovars, and can hardly justify an attack on an organization that provides such a profitable sales channel.”

“Luis, I agree that we should not rush to conclusions. Equally, we cannot just ignore the matter,” interjected Cabieses, an elderly Peruvian.

“No, Tomas, we’ll stay on top of it. I suggest that as well as monitoring the official investigation, we pursue one of our own. Our network runs throughout the continent. If mercenaries from this part of the world were used, we should be able to find out.”

“Perhaps we could also extend our investigation to Europe?” suggested Cabieses.

“Of course, we can use our sources there to make discreet enquiries, but we must be careful that the Kosovars get no inkling of this. If they are responsible, we do not want to put them on their guard. If they’re not, we don’t want to risk offending them.”

Madrigal could sense that some of them still had misgivings but knew they wouldn’t voice them. He warned himself not to become complacent and made a note to take some time later for some calls to smooth any ruffled feathers. No position was unassailable.

WINNER THE JOHN MURRAY SHOW / RTE GUIDE / KAZOO COMPETITION

A brutal conflict unleashed.

Who stands to win?

A bloody massacre at a Mexican heroin refinery; a Miami-bound freight ship hijacked for its cargo of illegal narcotics; the ruthless assassination of a Kosovar drug lord - a war has erupted between two drugs superpowers.

As DEA Agent Diane Mesi investigates she becomes convinced that the conflict is being orchestrated by an unknown third party. But she is marginalised by her colleagues and her judgement is challenged at every turn. Only if she can expose the truth will she be able to stop the violence and save her career.

Michael Larsen is an ex-soldier and hired mercenary who has been contracted to fuel the conflict at every opportunity until it destroys both sides. As he battles his own demons, he hopes that by directing the violence he will attain some measure of redemption.

But neither Mesi nor Larsen know the full extent of the forces at play or of what is truly at stake. As they each pursue their own resolution, the violence escalates and they become increasingly vulnerable to the dangers that stalk them.

Incitement won the John Murray Show / RTE Guide / Kazoo Competition from over 500 entries.

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Genre – Thriller

Rating – R

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Website www.davidgrahambooks.com

@JR_Tague's Thoughts on #Book Covers & the Reader #AmReading #YA

We all know the old adage about how you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, right? Riiiiight. And we also shouldn’t eat an entire bag of potato chips in one sitting, or stay up until 2am on a weeknight watching I ROBOT on TV for the hundredth time. But we still totally do. It can’t just be me, can it? So to that end, why live in denial? Why don’t we just embrace the fact? After all, there’s another saying: a picture’s worth a thousand words. I am just FULL of these today.

See, reading is all about imagination. A good book gives you just enough detail to get you started on imagining the world in which it takes place. The rest is up to the reader. That’s part of the pleasure. And also part of the reason why it’s so very hard to read when you’re tired. Because reading engages your brain. You combine the author’s words with your own visuals to create a beautiful collaboration born of your combined imaginations. Or, I dunno. Maybe you’re not good at imagining and it looks more like a crappy stick-figure land. I don’t know your life. But I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

What I’m saying is, to get to that point in a book it takes some time. And most human beings are famously, annoyingly short on time. We’ve got chips to eat, Will Smith movies to watch. We ain’t got time to bleed...er, to waste on imaginary lands we’re not interested in. Therefore, we‘re always looking for shortcuts. We want some quick indication of whether a book is worth investing our time in or not.

And that is where book covers come in.

Book covers aren’t always an accurate representation of the story within. BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE? How great would that be? If I could pick up a book and immediately see dinosaurs with laser guns and exploding volcanos and hot-but-sensitive time traveler heroes riding said dinosaurs (any dude worth his salt would befriend dinosaurs instead of fighting them) and fighting robots, and I could know that’s actually what I’d find inside, I’d be all “sign me up!” That sale would be completed before it even started. (Somebody please write that book.)

However, if I found that book in a store today, I’d have to be cautious about my excitement. I’ve been burned too many times before, see. There are so many exciting covers out there that mask boring stories. And the reverse is true too. Anyone read Orson Scott Card’s Alvin Maker series? I got into it because I loved ENDER’S GAME and a friend suggested it to me. Also, the cover of the first book isn’t too awful. But by the time you get to HEARTFIRE, all bets are off. It looks like a cheesy dime store romance novel. Not an awesome alternate history fantasy adventure novel. I mean, yeah. The title doesn’t help much. But it’s the picture that makes it especially embarrassing.

Expectation is important in novels. You have to set up your reader with certain expectations…and then deliver on them. That’s how you keep readers happy. And the cover art for your book is the beginning of that. It needs to reflect what’s inside. It needs to capture the essence of your story. It needs to represent those thousand words, and hopefully more. Because if it doesn’t, you’re going to have at least one sad, disappointed reader with a new laser dino covered door prop.

Max McKay gets a second chance at life when, after a bizarre accident on his sixteenth birthday, he is reanimated as a new breed of thinking, feeling zombie. To secure a spot for his eternal soul, Max must use his video game prowess as well as the guidance of Steve the Death God to make friends and grow up. As if all that weren’t hard enough, Max discovers that he’s not the only zombie in town. As he enlists the help of his new friends, Adam and Penny, to solve the mystery of their un-dead classmate, Max discovers that he must level up his life experience in order to survive the trials and terrors of the upcoming zombie apocalypse. And, even worse, high school.

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Genre – YA

Rating – PG

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Website http://jrtague.wordpress.com/

5 stars to The Howling Heart by April Bostic #PNR #MustRead #ReviewShare

The Howling Heart by April Bostic
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book was awesome and I just could not put it down. It kept me on the edge at all times and Riley's alpha male mode was breathtaking. Literally. Every time he swooped in to make Paige felt better, he sent my heart fluttered. Paige was meant to be the lead character but Riley as an alpha male easily overpowered this.

I was really sad that she lost boyfriend and father in one day. One cheated on her and the other had a heart attack. Sometimes, I wasn't sure about the ending. Would they end up together? Would fate intervene? You must, must read this book.

Overall content and plot was good. It keeps the reader guessing. I liked most of the setting and as a reader I felt the author included me in the scenes with the characters. The exciting cover and catchy blurb also helps sway any reader about choosing this book.

Disclosure - As a Quality Reads Book Club member, I received a free copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.


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