Book Tour {Guest Post} Chorus Lines, Caviar, and Corpses by Mary McHugh

Tour Participants

Chorus Lines, Caviar, and Corpses
(A Happy Hoofers Mystery)

First in New Series

Mass Market Paperback: 304 pages

Publisher: Kensington (November 4, 2014)

ISBN-13: 978-1617733598

Goodreads

Synopsis

There’s no pussy-footing around murder . . .

It’s never too late to kick up your heels. Just ask Tina, Janice, Pat, Mary Louise, and Gini–aka the Happy Hoofers. After posting a video of their tap-dancing routine on the Internet, the leggy ladies find themselves booked to perform on a Russian river cruise up the Volga from Moscow to St. Petersburg.

But when murder cuts in, the five fabulous friends find it’s not so easy to tap their troubles away. A crew member has been killed, and a passenger is missing. With a killer on board, the Hoofers need to watch their step. But with a little fancy footwork, these soft-shoe sleuths may get a leg up on a killer who’s cruising for a bruising. . .

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About This Author

Mary McHugh graduated from Wheaton College in Norton, Massachusetts, with a B.A. in English Literature and studied at the Sorbonne in Paris. She is the author of nineteen nonfiction books and two novels. She was a contributing editor for Cosmopolitan, an articles editor at Woman’s World, Travel Holiday, and Bridal Guide, and has written articles for The New York Times, Good Housekeeping and Family Circle.

She loves to tap dance and to travel -two passions that inspired her to write the Happy Hoofers series.

She lives in the New York area. Visit her at

Webpage  Facebook

I want to take you aboard the Smirnov, the Russian cruise ship that my five gorgeous dancer heroines sailed on from Moscow to St. Petersburg, solving a couple of murders in between dances. In the first of the series, “Chorus Lines, Caviar and Corpses,” published this November, my five Happy Hoofers.

Tina, the magazine editor, Janice, the actress and director, Gini, the documentary film maker, Pat, the family therapist, and Mary Louise, the housewife, were crammed into narrow cabins with primitive showers, but they spent most of their time in the lounges and on deck so they didn’t mind all that much.

My husband and I took this trip a couple of years ago, so I wanted to give you an idea of what it was like for my cozy mystery heroines. Here’s the ship my husband and I sailed on.

Our cabin was so small, my husband could stretch his arms from one wall to the other.

And we bathed in what was laughingly called the shower.

Like my hoofers, I love to dance too, but nobody ever hired me to dance on a cruise ship or a luxury train or a resort as they were in the series. This is a picture of me (in the white skirt) learning a Russian dance with some of the other passengers in the lounge.

We had a fascinating trip on this ship, stopping off at little villages and islands, marveling at the Hermitage and Catherine’s Palace in St. Petersburg, exploring the subways and Red Square in Moscow, and I take my hoofers to all these places too so you can see what they are like.

Because it’s a cozy (the most fun to write) I gave you some recipes of delicious Russian dishes like Chicken Kiev and Beef Stroganoff, teach you some Russian phrases like “Menya zavut ….” (My name is) and how to ask for some more sour cream in your borscht.  There are dogs and cats too. Did you know that Russians don’t kill their stray dogs but let them roam through Moscow? Their philosophy is that it’s not the dogs’ fault they are alone.

Please join my dancers on this cruise and let me know if you had a good time.

Blog Tour {Excerpt/Spotlight & Giveaway} QUICKBANE by Chelsea Starling

QUICKBANE, Part One

The Vale Chronicles

By- Chelsea Starling

Genre- YA Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Jesobel Vine wants nothing more than to be a typical Pyxie teenager.She wants to ride her beloved horse, Firefly, shoot her bow, and fall in love with her dreamy best friend, Glyn. But Jesobel is marked not only as the future Royal Starkeeper of Pyxis, but as the Heart of Azimuth—the one to lead her people back to their lost realm—a burden too dangerous for daydreams. As Jesobel struggles to accept her destiny, reluctantly studying mystic magic, she becomes doubtful she will ever be worthy to rule. And when her fiery temper enrages the daemon-possessed Starkeeper of Equuleus with a hex-gone-wrong—igniting an orphic war—Jesobel must find a way to alter the global disaster foretold by a celestial legend.

  

And now an Excerpt from Quickbane-

The winged boy paced circles around the tree, flexing his wings and fingers, as if pondering some great mystery, or concocting some sort of plan.

“Who… who are you?” I asked again. “What do you want?” I could barely stand up straight. Magic whirled from the compass, pushing me this way and that. I envied the boy’s sapling to lean on. I hoisted a foot upon the rock to steady myself.

He sighed as if bored beyond measure and bent into a dramatic bow with a flourishing hand gesture. “I am Vallax, Orphic Prince, Ruler of Daemons. Some call me the Dark Angel.” He stood, stretching his jagged wings upward in a showy way, and curtsied. And then I heard him mumble, “At your service.”

“At my service?” I stumbled around, the spinning needle knocking me off balance. I felt drunk and gave the rock a dirty look for failing to hold me still.

“Indeed,” he said, yawning. “Say, why don’t you tell me about that fascinating sigil lighting up your chest.”

Vallax focused on the sapling, whose papery bark he used to sharpen the edge of a talon. “Is that a compass?” A hint of a smile passed across his pale lips, sparkled in his black eyes.

A cold and sinister flood of energy seeped into my hand and shot up my arm. It strangled my magic, yet at the same time gave me a wild surge of power—for a brief second I was limitless, my quickflame radiating from me with immense force. It was intoxicating. I felt I could do every spell Aggie had ever attempted to teach me and then some, but it was all wrong. Way too much devilsflare. I pushed back with my quickflame, guiding the dark magic back down my arm, out. Out into the amulet in my hand.

“Did you like that little blast of extra power? Want some more?” The winged boy leaned forward, suddenly attentive, grinning, pointing at me with a hooked claw.

Another surge blasted up my arm. “No! Please, stop!” The needle spun out of control, waves of nausea surged in my stomach like a tempestuous sea. I stumbled, dizzy and delirious. I clapped a hand over my chest, tried to calm the needle, hide the bright light bursting from my sternum. “Please, please stop!” I begged, as the compass grew icy cold with devilsflare.

About the Author-

Warrior, mermaid, wordsmith, performer for kings and queens, Chelsea Starling is fucking awesome. She raises bear cubs with one hand, and conjures whole worlds with the other.

    

Website- chelseastarling.com

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Blog Tour {Excerpt/Spotlight} That’s a Promise by Victoria Klahr

That’s a Promise

Promises # 1

By- Victoria Klahr

Genre- New Adult Contemporary Romance

Publication Date- October 10th, 2014

Published By- Booktrope Publishing

Pain isn’t new to me.

I’ve been to hell only to find it never really leaves when you get back. It haunts me through nightmares, unrequited love, lies, broken hearts, and now death.

A monster almost took my life.

My best friend carries half my soul a world away.

My boyfriend broke my heart but refuses to let me go.

And my father is dead.

I don’t believe in fate and I don’t believe in happily-ever-afters, but for some reason, I still hope.

Live, even with a tainted spirit.

Long for my other half to come back to me.

Risk another broken heart, just to feel loved again.

And refuse to let another horror break me. 

In the face of my most recent tragedy, I have to decide whether forgiveness is something I can give. But even if that’s an option, can I be forgiven?

   

And here is an Excerpt from That's a Promise

I’m in a sea of black. The beautiful May day gives no impression that there is any sadness or grief in the air. It’s one of those days that you want to spend outside, smelling the new blooming flowers, getting some sun, and walking in the grass barefoot, but none of those things hold any interest for me.

Everything is a blur around me, a haze that mirrors my own depression. I know people are talking to me, but I don’t hear them. They express sadness in their words, but most of them never sympathized with us before today. They talk as if they know us, but where were they before? They live their lives talking shit behind people’s backs, but don’t see the hypocrisy in their fake condolences.

I’ve learned to ignore the whispers and stares, a lesson received repeatedly as I grew up in what some would call an “unconventional” household. Apparently punching everyone who bullies you isn’t the socially acceptable way to handle things, so I try to just ignore them. I don’t want or need to let any of their negativity in, so I remain quiet. There’s been enough sadness in our lives, and there’s no need for nasty words from nosey neighbors to pile onto that pain.

A person in a black suit finishes shoveling dirt into the cold, deep grave. I focus on the earth closing around the person I loved so immensely and to whom I felt so close. The ground consumes the casket and takes my loved one away into a lonely pit; permanently putting an end to the best person I will ever know.

I look at my dad sitting next to me. He is distraught, but well medicated for the occasion, only showing emotion when he remembers he just lost the love of his life. He seems to have aged ten years in the past week. He was once the strongest and most commanding person I knew, but today, he looks like a child. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything except for the essentials. He exists, but he’s not living. He looks up at me and I feel like maybe he wants to reach out and say something to comfort me, but I know his internal pain limits him from showing affection. I put my hand on his shoulder to show I’m here, hoping he understands what I mean.

People are finally leaving. Leaving us behind to grieve together in peace. That’s a lie. There is no peace for us, and there won’t be for a long time. With the preparations for the funeral complete, I have all the time in the world to sit and think about the gravity of what I just lost. That’s not peace. That’s torture.

“Dad,” I say, “I think that maybe we should head back to the house.” He sits there, giving no indication that he heard me suggest our departure.

“Dad,” I try again, after a minute. “Let’s say goodbye, and go home.” I can’t stand to be here any longer.

He stands slowly and walks over to the heap of dirt covering a life that was once vibrant and lively. He collapses onto the mound, and at first I’m startled by the sudden fall. Once I hear the heart wrenching sobs that escape his mouth, I understand he is saying his goodbye. I hear him murmuring about his undying love, and decide to give him some privacy.

I look toward the entrance of the cemetery, shaking myself out of the haze that I was in. I don’t even recall walking this far to get to the grave site, but I don’t want to remember, so I don’t try to conjure up the memory.

A figure leans against one of the nearby trees and I start to sweep my eyes past until recognition hits me in the chest heavily. I don’t think he wanted to be seen, but he was caught and he knows it. My throat starts to constrict and pain obstructs my chest.

He hasn’t changed much since the last time I saw him, except that he has no smile on his face today. He’s still breathtakingly handsome… but he’s also still the asshole I left behind at the café a year ago.

Why is he here? How dare he show his face here on a day like today?

About the Author- 

Victoria Klahr (pronounced “Claire”) lives in Elizabeth City, North Carolina with her husband and daughter, Stephen and Alexis. She loves her chug (Pug/Chihuahua), Bandit, and daughter to pieces. She is a huge and proud book nerd who looks at her bookshelf in admiration daily. When she’s not daydreaming about book boyfriends and fantasizing about being a badass heroine like Rose Hathaway, she’s busy doing schoolwork for her Bachelor’s degree in Psychology and writing the stories that speak to her in her head. She loves peanut butter with Oreos, good friends, amazing gossip, driving in the middle of merge lanes, comedies, crude humor, pretending like she can dance, pretending like she can kick major ass, and a really, really good laugh.

   

Blog- http://victoriaklahrwrites.blogspot.com/

Blog Tour {Excerpt/Spotlight & Giveaway} Linked by Judy Serrano

Linked

By- Judy Serrano

Genre- Adult Paranormal Romance

Daphne Foster is a substitute teacher stuck in an English class, waiting for that dreaded parent-teacher conference. With much preparation and anxiety, she encounters the unforgettable Charlie Cross. His charm and good looks, win her over but rumors of his involvement with organized crime make his continued disappearances disturbing.

In walks Heathcliff Vanderpool, creating a love triangle of unusual sorts. Unknown to Daphne, Heathcliff and Charlie are old friends: Older than she could have imagined. With Charlie away on business, Daphne and Heathcliff discover a passion between them lying beneath the surface. As their souls link, pulling away from Charlie becomes next to impossible. Will his involvement in organized crime consume them both before she’s able to get free? When you become “linked,” the choice may not be your own.

   

   

And now an excerpt from Linked-

The next day I went back to school trying to get back to “normal,” whatever that was, and Janice was sitting at my desk. “So, you called the school board on Mr. Cooper and now they want to talk to me. Great job, Daph.”

“I did not call anyone. The man who was here, who donated money to my fundraiser, he called them. Mr. Cooper asked me out right in front of him. Idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “You should just tell the truth. Don’t lie for that moron.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” she told me. “And look who’s talking. You’re dating a married man. And a parent at that.”

“I know, I know,” I confessed. “That’s complicated too.”

“What ever happened to his brother Dante?” she asked me.

“Interested?”

“You said he was shot. How was he still walking around?”

“Shock, I guess,” I answered. “He’s fine. That’s what Charlie told me, anyway. Why?”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Did you see him? I thought you said he got up and walked away.”

“Charlie said he was fine, Janice. Maybe it was just blood. Maybe it wasn’t even his blood.”

“You certainly have a lot of excuses,” she continued. “When Charlie jumped on top of you to protect you from the gunfire, did he go inside your apartment with you?”

“Why?” I asked. “Janice what’s going on?”

“Where is he, anyway? What ever happened to our friend Charlie?”

“Charlie went back to his wife,” a voice from behind us said. We turned around and there was Julia. She was standing at the door with a gun.

“Mrs. Cross?” I started. “What are you doing?”

“Putting an end to this nonsense, that’s what I’m doing.” She was waving the gun around quite carelessly, making me very nervous.

“Please, leave right now with the gun and I won’t say a word to anyone. There are children here. This is between you and me.”

“Get out,” she said to Janice, waving the gun in her direction. Janice ran; I’m sure to go get help. At least that’s what I was hoping. She held the gun up and pointed it at me. “He thinks he loves you,” she started. “He doesn’t even know what that means, yet you’ve got him saying stupid things like… divorce.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I didn’t want anything like this to happen.”

“I understand, Miss Foster. You fell out of your clothes one day and spread your legs quite accidentally.”

“Where is he?” I asked. “Did you do something to him?”

“Your concern is moving but you see, I’d like to keep him around. He’s very rich and he’s very talented in the bedroom. Both facts I’m sure you’re aware of.”

Michael showed up behind her. “Mom, what are you doing?” Her faced turned pale and her eyes… they turned a disturbing color of red.  A hiss came out of her much like the one I heard come out of Charlie when he was sitting on the bed on the boat, waiting for our intruders. Veins started popping out of her neck and red lines formed down her face. “Mom!” he shouted again. She turned to him and hissed. “Stop! Mom stop!” She turned back around to me and her face was normal again. I backed up, not sure what I just witnessed.

“This is your father’s latest whore, Michael. Get a good look at her before I put her in the ground.”

“Mom, don’t…”

“Did you know about her, Michael? Did he tell you?” She turned to look at him but I was too paralyzed to run.

“Yes, I knew,” he answered. “But it’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think?” she continued. She looked back over at me. “Did he tell you, you were the only one? Did he put you up in one of his hotels and tell you that you were the only woman he’s ever taken up there? Did he?”

“No, nothing like that,” I told her.

“Did he buy you diamonds to get you up to his bed? Maybe get you high first?”

“Mom!” Michael shouted. “Stop it. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“I won’t be made a fool of anymore!” she shouted. “If this is the only way I can keep her away from my husband then this is what I have to do.”

I swallowed hard. The campus police showed up behind Michael. I breathed out a sigh of relief. She held up the gun, hands shaking. “You can’t have him. He belongs to me.” She cocked the gun.

About the Author-

Judy Serrano graduated from Texas A&M University, Commerce with a BA in English. She is the owner of Make Cents Editing Service, and is an adjunct professor at a local college. She is a freelance writer for certain on-line publications and writes romantic suspense and paranormal romance novels. She is the author of The Easter’s Lilly Series, the Linked Series, and Ivy Vines, Visions.

Although she is originally from New York, she currently resides in Texas with her husband, four children, (all boys) and five dogs. She is also a singer/songwriter in her spare time.

  

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Cover Reveal for Take Them By Storm by Marie Landry

Take Them By Storm (Angel Island #3)

by Marie Landry 

Release Date: 01/06/15

Summary from Goodreads:

This book is a standalone companion novel to Waiting for the Storm and After the Storm. The books do not need to be read together or in order, but please note that this synopsis contains mild spoilers for After the Storm.

Sadie Fitzgerald has always been different, and not just because she makes her own clothes and would rather stay home watching Doctor Who than party with kids her age. When it’s time to leave Angel Island for college, Sadie is eager to put her old life behind her. Small-minded people and rumors have plagued her for years, but with the love of her adoptive family, the O’Dells, Sadie has learned to embrace who she is. Now she’s not afraid to admit the rumors about her are true: she’s gay.

For the first time in her life, Sadie feels free to be herself. She dives into college life and begins volunteering at the local LGBT center, where she discovers her small-town upbringing left holes in her education about life outside Angel Island.

The world is a bigger and more accepting place than Sadie ever imagined. She’s finally found where she belongs, but with the reappearance of someone from her past, an unexpected new friendship, and a chance at love, Sadie soon realizes she still has a lot to learn about life, friendship, and love.

Book in this series:

(cover linked to Goodreads)

About the Author

Marie Landry is the author of BLUE SKY DAYS (contemporary YA—January 2012), THE GAME CHANGER (women's fiction—November 2012), WAITING FOR THE STORM (contemporary YA—April 2013), and THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR (a new adult holiday novella-November 2013). Marie has always been a daydreamer; since early childhood, she's had a passion for words and a desire to create imaginary worlds, so it only seemed natural for her to become a writer. She resides in Ontario, Canada, and most days you can find her writing, reading, blogging about writing and reading, listening to U2, wandering around with a camera in her hand, watching copious amounts of TV on DVD, or having grand adventures with her nephews and niece.

Author Links:

    

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