tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75700562389446719272024-03-17T23:02:04.255-04:00Michelle Levigne: Exploring the Wood Between the Worlds...Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.comBlogger1368125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-55553809851686406072024-03-13T14:02:00.002-04:002024-03-13T14:02:14.932-04:00COMING RELEASE -- and a chance to get a FREE ebook short story.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYY_O1a4ktGtkoEZb8B52hyphenhyphenBck-D0gsh_Jeve8PnYxHJuXfoEoKu_dDi4nT837ALPcjFgKYQLe-09l6l9arm51lFjeJPkOksnnaQAk3gdXG9lKWMTQx3ajSaE8F_vpGIXcxkutMha2CTlUHY0wTRANwX_-lG6JPPezmkUmXhaXCK_GeQvAY-2LBh4GwZ2/s2700/BeastlyBeauty-print-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYY_O1a4ktGtkoEZb8B52hyphenhyphenBck-D0gsh_Jeve8PnYxHJuXfoEoKu_dDi4nT837ALPcjFgKYQLe-09l6l9arm51lFjeJPkOksnnaQAk3gdXG9lKWMTQx3ajSaE8F_vpGIXcxkutMha2CTlUHY0wTRANwX_-lG6JPPezmkUmXhaXCK_GeQvAY-2LBh4GwZ2/w426-h640/BeastlyBeauty-print-001.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /> Coming April 1<p></p><p>The next book in the <b><i>Enchanted Castle Archives</i></b> series. Sequel to <b>LIARS' QUEST.</b></p><p>You can listen to chapters of <b>THE BEASTLY BEAUTY</b> now on the Ye Olde Dragon's Library storytelling podcast.</p><p>Either go to your favorite podcast app and subscribe, OR you can go to <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a> and listen to the latest episode on the<a href="https://yeoldedragonbooks.com/ye-olde-dragons-library-storytelling-podcast/" target="_blank"> podcast page</a>.</p><p>There are lots of short stories taking place in the enchanted forest and the enchanted castle, featuring 'Na -- short for Belladonna -- the daughter of the heroes of the novels. </p><p>You can get the ebook of <b>THE BEASTLY BEAUTY</b> right NOW from <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a>, nearly 3 weeks early. The audiobook will be available by the end of the week.</p><p>And if you buy from <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a>, you'll get a new, not-yet-released short story, <b>ASH, BREAD, AND THE BOY.</b> This is an adventure of Ash, the heroine of <b>THE BEASTLY BEAUTY</b>, that was originally part of the book, but cut out during edits. FREE, in ebook. Just buy from <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books,</a> and you'll get a follow-up email using the email address you provide when buying your ebook or audiobook.</p><p>You can buy the other short stories in the Enchanted Castle Archives series at your favorite online store, or at <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a>. But what might be more fun is to buy the anthologies put out by Ye Olde Dragon Books, where these stories originally appeared. Either the Fairytale Anthologies or the Classic Monster Anthologies. Visit our website and check them out!</p><p><b>TALES FROM THE FOREST,</b> Fairytale Anthology 4, will be releasing May 1, featuring stories that take Red Riding Hood and turn the story inside out and upside down!</p><p><br /></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-6488948692735256272024-03-02T01:00:00.003-05:002024-03-02T01:00:00.142-05:00Want to be OTHERWORLDLY With Me? (It's a booksigning!)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiggOPiLkfJnbhIUqgzyDjDmY1SZMU9sxaWNPHlLkHJ67Y_URwIVmiLBRfib-Y9f4srHqrb_1GE46RtNLZMpwrAcgwnrgHF4gqN70ZF2g9c_4LwbGg_42aJdvno_FFVJBD9dexsZK5O3m2o5M2jJtLtGiED0wL0AL5TAdbOIJYFQjhdknoFDRo99ZgazUI/s1800/Booksigning-PanYan-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiggOPiLkfJnbhIUqgzyDjDmY1SZMU9sxaWNPHlLkHJ67Y_URwIVmiLBRfib-Y9f4srHqrb_1GE46RtNLZMpwrAcgwnrgHF4gqN70ZF2g9c_4LwbGg_42aJdvno_FFVJBD9dexsZK5O3m2o5M2jJtLtGiED0wL0AL5TAdbOIJYFQjhdknoFDRo99ZgazUI/w640-h640/Booksigning-PanYan-001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-5108994443133422622024-03-01T02:00:00.003-05:002024-03-01T11:00:54.171-05:00CELEBRATE a new release with a FREE ebook short story!<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <strong>INQUEST</strong>, AFV Defender book 4, releases today, March 1.</span></p><!--wp:columns-->
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In paper, ebook, and audio.</span></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You can buy the ebook and audio on the <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a> website and anywhere on the web that sells books.</span></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The <em>Defender</em> is sent on a mission beyond charted space with the crew of the notorious <em>Inquest</em>, and their equally notorious, rule-breaking captain, Illean Shryne. The <em>Inquest </em>crew always comes back from dangerous missions covered in glory, but that is rarely so for the ships teamed with them. Will the <em>Defender</em> and her crew survive? Or has their misfit luck finally run out?</span></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">So, how are we going to celebrate this book release? Simple:</span></strong></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">FREE Ebooks!!</span></strong></p><p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">(Offer good until March 15 -- so hurry!)</span></strong></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Purchase <strong>INQUEST</strong> from <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a>, and you'll get an email offering your choice of <span style="text-decoration-line: underline;">5 AFV Defender short stories,</span> as a thank-you.</span></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><span style="font-size: medium;">OR: buy the book elsewhere online, and <span style="text-decoration-line: underline;">email <strong>2OldeDragons@gmail.com</strong> with a copy of your receipt/screen shot of your order, </span>to get your short story. Our ebooks are on Overdrive and other library subscription outlets, so you can send a screen shot of your reservation order for your local library, and get the free short story.</span></p>
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<p class="has-custom-lineheight" style="line-height: 1;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">Sound good?</span></strong></p>
<!--/wp:paragraph-->Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-19846390024195393322024-02-29T01:00:00.006-05:002024-02-29T01:00:00.137-05:00New release sample: WHITE ROSES<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s2550/White%20Roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s320/White%20Roses.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p> </p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Likely
prospect?" he greeted Angela, as she came back down the hall. They paused
in front of the large room where the reporters worked.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Maybe.
But we really don't have any openings. Something about her caught my attention.
I'm not sure what." She rubbed her temples and attempted a smile.
"Please tell me Dad isn't trying to install another arcade game on the
file server?" She gestured at the cluster of workers gathered around the
stacked unit of CPUs and printers, with a jungle's worth of cables leading out
to the other computers in the office.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Andrew
Coffelt had inherited the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tabor Picayune</i>
from his father and had gladly embraced every advance in technology. Curt
sympathized with Angela, because her father was a little too eager to rest on
his credits as publisher, semi-retired yet still in the office every day. His
delight in trying out new software on the office system was a constant source
of frustration for Angela. The only thing that kept her from banning her father
from the office was the fact that his experiments hadn't interfered with the
publication of the paper. Not yet, anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Curt
suspected that even if Andrew caused a power blackout of downtown Tabor Heights
for a week, Angela still couldn't ban her father from the paper. They both
loved it too much. He just wished she wasn't stuck with being the adult while
her father enjoyed his second childhood.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"I
think he's just checking out the FBI site that Loni decided to access. Tracking
the White Rose and identifying him has become the favorite hobby here,"
Curt offered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Unfortunately."
Angela's brown eyes lost focus. Then she shuddered, wrapped her arms around
herself, and continued down the hall to the lunchroom, her shoulder-length
black hair streaming out behind her with the impetus of her exit.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Something
wrong?" He followed her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Everything
lately reminds me of the White Rose. That woman who was just in here—”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Looks
like both his targets?" He nodded when she stared at him. "I noticed.
She reminded me of someone I knew when I was a kid."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"You
might have known her. Toni said she lived here for a few years. Toni
Napolitano. Sound familiar?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Curt
started to say no, then choked. "Short for Antoinette?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He
remembered Angelique's little sister, trying to tag along with them when their
gang from school went to play kickball. A scrawny kid, she pouted a lot when
Angelique told her to stay home. Curt thought she was four years younger than
him, putting her in third grade while the rest of them were in seventh.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Yes,
Antoinette. Her credits are impressive. She brought a folder full of
clippings." Angela sighed and put down the coffee carafe without filling
her mug. "We can't really afford another reporter on staff right now. But
it wouldn't be fair to just tell her no without at least examining her
work."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Look
at it this way." Curt's smile felt stiff. "She looks so much like the
White Rose's targets, would you feel right giving her a job that would have her
all over town, letting him get a good look at her?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"That's
not funny." She dumped cream and sugar into her cup before reaching for
the carafe again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"I
wasn't trying to be funny." He glanced toward the open door of her office.
"So, those clippings she brought. What did she write?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Everything.
Her specialty seems to be investigative reporting. If you ever feel like you
need a partner, I'd seriously consider her."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Nah,
not yet." Curt stayed in the kitchen when Angela went back to her office.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Investigative reporter, huh?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> He felt sick with
the certainty of what brought Toni Napolitano back to Tabor Heights. Somehow,
she had heard about the White Rose, the two women he had terrorized, the one he
had killed. She heard about the notes, demanding undying love and purity; the
white roses left on doorsteps and even inside the victims' houses. The threats
against any men who trespassed on his territory. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: left;">Just like he had done, had Toni
made the connection between the White Rose and her sister's murder? Did she
feel duty-bound to hunt him? Just like Curt felt duty-bound? After all, he
found Angelique's body, left lying like so much discarded forest trash in the
park.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-87856783082033195452024-02-28T01:00:00.003-05:002024-02-28T01:00:00.145-05:00Upcoming release: INQUEST<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s2550/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s320/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.YeOldeDragonBooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a></p><p><br /> Releasing March 1</p><p><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 14pt;">These are the adventures of the E&D
ship, </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 14pt;">AFV Defender</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 14pt;">. While they aren't quite as death-defying as a
certain other notorious ship in the Fleet, they're developing a legend of their
own. Some good. Some bad. But most important, they're a family, with all the
benefits and drawbacks.</span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Every day is a new adventure. If their misfit
luck doesn't finally run out on them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">INQUEST: AFV Defender Book 4</span></b><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Signals are coming from beyond the edges of
charted space. All indications are that they are being generated by the broken
pieces of a Gate, used by the ancient Gatekeepers to scatter all the Human
races across the universe.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Except that as far as anyone knew, nothing could
dent a Gate, forget break it. Yet the legendary warrior, Etrusca, scattered
pieces of broken Gate across known and unknown space. Now, a response is coming
in. As one of the top E&D (Exploration and Diplomacy) ships in the Alliance
Fleet, the Defender heads across the galaxy to find out just who or what is
sending the signal.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Except this time, they've been partnered with the
Inquest. The only ship in the Fleet with a stranger reputation and record than
the Defender. The notorious Captain Illean Shryne and her crew of rule-breakers
and miracle-workers always manage to escape from the jaws of death and return
covered in glory. Unfortunately, the ships sent on missions with them don't
fare so well …<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-37717643698739442662024-02-26T01:00:00.003-05:002024-02-26T01:00:00.346-05:00New release sample: BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s2550/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s320/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“He claims I broke his heart,” Cilla said, punctuated
by the snap of the measuring tape as it retracted back into its case. She snickered
as she wrote down the measurements of the display window.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Grandpa should have broken his head.” Melba chuckled.
“Our grandparents had that big old house the Gallery took over. We used to have
sleepovers, all the cousins, maybe once a month. Ernie decided he would play Romeo
and tossed rocks at the dormer windows to get Cilla’s attention. The problem is,
he used really big rocks and broke Grandpa and Granny’s bedroom window. The big
buffoon actually refused to pay to replace the window, because he claimed Granny
insulted his family, getting her landscaping rocks from someone else. Can you believe
that?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Ernie’s father and uncles had a landscaping business,”
Cilla explained.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Well, that’s a chunk of Cadburn history I never
heard,” Tracy said, punctuated with a chuckle. “So Miss Cilla, you’re a heartbreaker,
are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“There’s gotta be a heart to break,” she muttered,
and stepped over to the built-in counter that divided the front room in half, lengthwise.
She extended the measuring tape down the long side and paused to run her fingers
over the dings and gouges and dents and what certainly looked to Melba like burn
marks in the wood.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Some common sense would have been nice, too,”
Melba added. “Remember the time he showed up to take you on a date, and he wouldn’t
take no for an answer because he had paid Boyd for the right to take you out? He
wanted exclusive access to you for the entire week.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Wait,” Tracy said. “Who’s Boyd?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Our money-grubbing cousin.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Makes those stereotyped ambulance-chasing lawyers
on TV look like Boy Scouts,” Cilla added. Then she giggled. “Remember the time he
tried to convince Aunt Myrna to join some pyramid scheme, and when she didn’t give
in fast enough, he stole the old glass piggy bank where she put her egg money? She
went chasing after him with her rolling pin and he fell going down the steps and
…” Her laughter faded into a sigh and she shook her head. “Oh, my, listen to me.
Gossiping.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“It’s not gossip if you’d take Ginny’s advice
and put all those family memories into a book and sell it as humor,” Melba said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“And get sued by three-quarters of the family
for embarrassing them.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“They did it to themselves!” She snickered. “We
really should. Even if it’s just as a joke. Let’s talk to Charli Hall, since she
knows writing. Or Saundra Bailey. What do you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“It might be fun,” Cilla admitted and chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-28033889712439272022024-02-22T01:00:00.004-05:002024-02-22T01:00:00.129-05:00New release sample: WHITE ROSES<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s2550/White%20Roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s320/White%20Roses.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"The
White Rose?" Ted Gruber, the senior advertising rep, sauntered into the
room. "Bet you anything he got rejected by e-Harmony. Maybe we should get
the cops to subpoena them to open up their records."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Curt and
Max exchanged glances. She muttered about a queue full of stories that needed
to be edited and hurried out of the lunchroom. Ted sidled up next to Curt and
went up on his toes to see through the gap into Angela's office. He whistled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Who's
the cutie? Looks kind of familiar... Hey, is she victim two? What's her name,
Karen? Kate?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Katrina,"
Curt muttered. "That's not her."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">His
stomach twisted and he stared at the young woman, standing now and shaking
hands with Angela. Make her hair longer, exchange that brown blazer for a fuzzy
pink sweater, and make her twelve years old… she could be Angelique Napolitano.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But
Angelique was dead. Nearly twenty years now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Curt
shook his head. He was seeing Angelique everywhere, lately. He had nearly
knocked himself out on the basketball court two weeks ago, when he looked up in
the stands and thought he saw her sitting there, cheering for Tabor Christian's
team in the inter-church basketball tournament. The look-alike was Sheila
McGuire, Officer Frank McGuire's niece. Her parents were Army doctors, both on
duty overseas.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Ted
stomped over to the coffeemaker and tossed a quarter into the donation jar.
Everyone was supposed to put in fifty cents for the coffee. "Some loony
thinks he's in love and plays Cyrano DeBergerac, spouting love poetry from the
bushes. When the girls get scared, he gets nasty." He spilled coffee on
the counter, then scattered as much sugar as he put in his coffee. He picked up
the sponge from the tiny sink, made a half-hearted swipe at the mess, left it
sitting there, and headed out of the lunchroom. "What happened to the good
old days when a guy saw a girl he wanted, clobbered her over the head and
dragged her back to his cave?" He disappeared down the hall to the front
of the long, narrow office space.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"I
bet you got rejected by e-Harmony, too," Curt muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He heard
the doorknob click and pretended to read the six-month-old copy of <i>Writer's Digest.</i> He sauntered to the
doorway of the lunchroom, watching from the corner of his eye as Angela walked
the stranger to the front of the office. The long hallway down the far side of
the office unit went from front to back, giving Curt a clear view of the traffic
at the front door. He watched Angela and the Angelique look-alike shake hands.
Several knots of tension in his gut and shoulders loosened when the young woman
walked out the door.<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-69789738866298733512024-02-21T01:00:00.005-05:002024-02-21T01:00:00.132-05:00Upcoming release sample: INQUEST<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s2550/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s320/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.YeOldeDragonBooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a></p><p><br /> Releasing March 1</p><p> </p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“We need you to find them.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Two elderly Nisandrians in a galaxy with nearly four dozen
Human-habitable worlds, three times as many orbital stations and platforms, and
that’s just what belongs to the Alliance. Knowing Great-grandfather, he’ll decide
the smart move is to hide on a planet unfriendly to the Alliance, because no
one would expect him to go to a place that would gladly sell him out to
Nisandros.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Well, not exactly …” Jeyn glanced at Ashrock. He nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“You know where they went?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Not where, but to who. At least, we hope so.” She shrugged again.
Yes, M’kar was getting irritated by that gesture. “Your brothers.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“My brothers?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Ashar, Bannar—” Ashrock began.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I know their names. Why would Great-grandfather and … No.” M’kar’s
head hurt with the new load of possibilities and theories cramming into her brain.
“Oh, yes, that will make them so much easier to find. Just look for a
free-trader ship broadcasting Nisandrian registration, with several
pirate-for-hire ships chasing them across the universe. Just how do you expect
me to talk my captain into putting the <i>Defender</i> in the middle of that
fight? We have families on board. Most of those children consider you their
adopted grandparents.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Yes, and that reminds me, we want to have a festival, now that—”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Po’pa!” Her fists ached slightly from the single, hard slam that made
the bowls and serving platters and mugs bounce a good five centimeters.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“It isn’t that bad.” Jeyn reached to pat M’kar’s arm. “Your brothers are
the logical choice, because they’ve been in constant contact with Aquid for
years now. In fact, we found out they’ve been in contact since the day they
fled Nisandros, going on missions for Etrusca.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“How?” M’kar shook her head. “No, don’t tell me. I can guess. All
three of them are just rebels and idiots enough to think Great-grandfather’s
crazy notions are good ideas. I wondered how Etrusca managed to send pieces of
the Gate off planet all these years. Now I know. It makes too much crazy,
twisted sense.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“If it’s any comfort, they also left because of the pressure to kill
you,” Ashrock offered. “Most of our clan didn’t have any problem obeying the
prophets who demanded your death, but your brothers did. They were tired of
getting into battles with their cousins.” He chuckled. “Mostly because it got
so boring, winning all the time.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A strained bubble of laughter escaped M’kar. Maybe in a few days she
would find some comfort in knowing that yes, her brothers did like her, enough
to not want her dead. And yes, it was some comfort to know a thirst for
adventure had sent them away from their homeworld. They hadn’t left because
they didn’t want to be around their half-blood sister.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“All right. I’ll ask Genys what we can do. Treinna will have to pull a
couple dozen strings to get people watching to catch the gossip. But that’s
about all I can do without taking leave and hiring a courier ship and going
hunting on my own.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Ashrock accepted that just a little too easily. M’kar had the awful
feeling there was still much he hadn’t told her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">All in all, she was glad to watch Le’anka and Anwesta vanish behind
the <i>Defender</i> as the ship headed out on its next assignment. It was a
blessedly boring one for a change, making a wide circle of stations, dropping
off and picking up equipment and personnel and dealing with various technical
problems that required the miracle-working skills of Jasper Lore and his Engineering
department.<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-24846335097171666172024-02-19T01:00:00.003-05:002024-02-19T01:00:00.138-05:00New release sample: BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s2550/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s320/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Okay.” Cilla took a deep breath and put down
the last page of the leasing agreement. “I think we’re ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I’m glad to welcome you to the Creekside Family.”
Tracy picked up the pen with deep green ink that matched the letterhead for Creekside
Shops, and the paint on the trim around the shop windows.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Fifteen minutes later, after leaving a generous
tip, because after all, they had taken up a table at the café far longer than a
normal breakfast hour, the three of them stepped out the door and walked two doors
down, to the shop that was now officially the future home of Brighten Your Corner.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Tracy held her breath as she unlocked the front
door, pushed it open, and leaned in. She sniffed cautiously. Winced. Turned back
and handed Melba the keys. Three sets of five keys. For the front door, the back
door, the utility box that served all the shops on that side of Creekview, and two
for the gates on the concrete deck that ran behind the stores and extended out over
the rocky drop down to Cadburn Creek. One set of keys for Melba, one for Cilla,
and one set of spares, to be safely hidden somewhere at home, and hopefully not
forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“These look new,” Melba said, turning the ring
of keys over in her hands. They made a nice, solid jangle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“They are.” Tracy stepped into the shop and spread
her arms, welcoming them in. “Sorry about the smell. It’s actually better than it
was. I don’t know what that man was doing in the back room …”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“We never did understand what he did here.” Cilla
pulled out the tape measure from her tote bag and headed for the left-hand display
window.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I’m pretty sure he didn’t understand, either.”
Tracy shook her head. “He definitely wasn’t dealing in collectibles, which is what
he stated as his business when he signed the lease. I could have evicted him just
on that detail alone. There were more deliveries to this place, at all hours, in
all weather, than the entire street combined. A couple people complained about yelling
screaming arguments, and the smells that seeped into the shops on either side weren’t
…” She shrugged. “They just weren’t natural.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“He wasn’t cooking meth or anything like that,
was he?” Melba asked. Cilla muttered, “Meth” and sighed. Melba wrinkled up her nose
at her, and they both chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I almost wish he was.” Tracy shook her head.
“He still owes me five months’ rent, and replacing the glass on the front door,
twice, and the lock on the back door three times. I could legally charge him for
replacing the locks on this shop and the back deck gates and copying keys for everyone.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“It’s a crying shame,” Cilla said. “Ernie used
to be such a nice guy, back in high school. What happened to him?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Besides going anti-establishment and running
off to some commune and then advocating burning down the White House every time
a new president got into office, no matter which party?” Melba shook her head. “Haven’t
the foggiest.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-33359026473078567052024-02-16T16:54:00.000-05:002024-02-16T16:54:31.906-05:00CELEBRATE! New release and get-it-before-it's-officially-out SALE!<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwX5y8cH6OpRFAxzSpGOpvBbQOUb3fgbndoSRyzcOQWGdB_GNfvGHvtbsphatK1d5R3jXmBjdQ13j-Kl5S4DD05nqXOIJZI2Q377fYbn6lNME7DBVHQfCKT1MGtmJXXjnR0w5XdheUyEyN5Z14j6izTBHKqBhH0UVMwkLFrjzgs3vth9Hke3zhXJQbQh3/s2550/White%20Roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwX5y8cH6OpRFAxzSpGOpvBbQOUb3fgbndoSRyzcOQWGdB_GNfvGHvtbsphatK1d5R3jXmBjdQ13j-Kl5S4DD05nqXOIJZI2Q377fYbn6lNME7DBVHQfCKT1MGtmJXXjnR0w5XdheUyEyN5Z14j6izTBHKqBhH0UVMwkLFrjzgs3vth9Hke3zhXJQbQh3/s320/White%20Roses.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>WHITE ROSES,</b> book 4 of the Tabor Heights series, is NOW available.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">To celebrate the release, you can get the EBOOK and the AUDIOBOOK and save $$$ on the downloads.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">How?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Go to <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank"><b>Ye Olde Dragon Books</b></a> and visit the storefront.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">That easy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Normally the ebook is $4.99 and the audiobook is $9.99, but you can save $2 on each if you buy THIS WEEKEND.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The sale price is only good THIS WEEKEND. That means come Monday morning, it's back to regular price.</i></span></p><p><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">PLUS!!!!!!</span></i></b></p><p><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">COMING MARCH 1:</span></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBoF7Wj2MWzclOatQar7QoTn-2RXVj4hy-q4T24DcqNtugV5ryvv1je3dmNRRCfCZ7vXD28RRJGEKKtmEPpLrMDseheURsawV_Zg-K0SxDQu8yoaLn8-K7SqQdYnxGcaB_GKmFXdn4eWN5AWXYOeauL4loCjz_Ohdp3GtIR9bZ9-HAvYClpljfykAt8TOJ/s2550/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBoF7Wj2MWzclOatQar7QoTn-2RXVj4hy-q4T24DcqNtugV5ryvv1je3dmNRRCfCZ7vXD28RRJGEKKtmEPpLrMDseheURsawV_Zg-K0SxDQu8yoaLn8-K7SqQdYnxGcaB_GKmFXdn4eWN5AWXYOeauL4loCjz_Ohdp3GtIR9bZ9-HAvYClpljfykAt8TOJ/s320/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>INQUEST</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>AFV Defender series, Book 4.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>You can get the ebook and audiobook NOW, </u>before everyone else, by again, going to <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a> and visiting the storefront. Same price -- same savings. How can you miss out? <b>Find out what the crew of the Defender is up to before everyone else AND save $$$.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>By the way .... if you haven't heard, the Defender books are kinda-sorta based on stories and friends and personnas from when I belonged to the USS Defiance of Sacramento, a Star Trek club .... and in <b>INQUEST,</b> the Defender is sent on a mission with the most notorious ship in the Fleet. The Inquest has a reputation like a certain other notorious ship and rule-breaking captain .... not naming any names. But the rumors are that if you're sent on a mission with the Inquest, it's kind of like going to serve Vader .... your chances of survival are pretty slim .....</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>So, will the crew of the Defender survive this mission? Get the book and find out!!!</u></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Don't leave yet!</span></i></b></p><p><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">There's MORE to the celebration -- and your savings.</span></i></b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eCDtv_0nP9AybdJaUyQy-_Qtbw8rq_zcU9pPXS5kIBZvR2RzrxjGfXyiWfZSZHYRo86eRCTWlL0rj3HZnBHxF_8iplUAplskWMeikWa6tRkSH9VAldPchvoRsOXG0BLsFRMYEjzLRx4QiLLaT32sGUdD4TGZxq62O7gF6iVAzI4y2JkLjn-CoBpBl-x8/s2700/BeastlyBeauty-print-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eCDtv_0nP9AybdJaUyQy-_Qtbw8rq_zcU9pPXS5kIBZvR2RzrxjGfXyiWfZSZHYRo86eRCTWlL0rj3HZnBHxF_8iplUAplskWMeikWa6tRkSH9VAldPchvoRsOXG0BLsFRMYEjzLRx4QiLLaT32sGUdD4TGZxq62O7gF6iVAzI4y2JkLjn-CoBpBl-x8/s320/BeastlyBeauty-print-001.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b>THE BEASTLY BEAUTY</b>, Book 2 of the Enchanted Castle Archives, is due out April 1 <i>(nope, not joking!).</i></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">You can listen to chapters on the <i><b>Ye Olde Dragon's Library storytelling podcast </b></i>right now. We're up to Chapter 12 as of yesterday.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>BUT, you can get the ebook at <a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank"><b>Ye Olde Dragon Books,</b></a> going to the storefront, and .... here's that word again .... SAVE through this weekend.</u><i><b> Regularly $4.99, but you can get it for $2.99.</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, celebrate the release of <b>WHITE ROSES</b> with me, and go get those savings!!!</span></p><p><br /></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-51217162450949628902024-02-15T01:00:00.005-05:002024-02-15T01:00:00.143-05:00New release sample: WHITE ROSES<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s2550/White%20Roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s320/White%20Roses.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p>RELEASE DAY!!!!</p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p> </p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Who's
that?" Curt Mehdlang moved back from the table in the lunchroom at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tabor Picayune,</i> until his shoulders
touched the top of the hatch window looking out over the river behind the
building. It gave him the perfect angle to see through the gap in the curtain
over the porthole window into Angela Coffelt's office.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A
dark-haired young woman sat opposite Angela's desk while the editor looked
through a sheaf of papers. As assistant editor for the twice-weekly newspaper,
Curt would have known about any interviews. So what was she doing there? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Hmm?"
Max Randolph, one of the copyeditors, pulled her mug of hot water out of the
microwave and stepped over next to Curt. "Oh. She's here for a job
interview. I heard her tell Myrna she was a reporter at a newspaper out in Iowa
somewhere."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Job
interview?" Curt shook his head. “When did we advertise?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"We
didn't." Max raked her fingers through her mop of dark hair and twisted
her combs back into place to hold it out of her eyes. "I heard her say she
just moved back to town. Takes a lot of guts, moving without a job to go to, in
this economy."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"A
lot of confidence," he muttered, still watching the composed,
familiar-looking woman. "Not much going on to warrant new staff."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Something
about her oval face, those big, dark eyes and the way she tipped her head to
one side. He knew he should recognize her. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Hmm?"
He jerked, startled when Max touched his arm. "Sorry. A lot on my
mind."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"I
said, how can you say there's nothing going on, when the White Rose is still on
the loose? That's kind of exciting. Sick, but exciting."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"You
and Tony aren't going to use it for your next book, are you?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Spare
me." Max rolled her eyes and ripped open two packets of raspberry hot
chocolate mix for punctuation. "We write romances. Sickos preying on
innocent girls, demanding love, sight unseen—that’s not romantic."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Maybe
we should check the personal ads at the PD and any other papers, to find
someone who's been advertising for months and can't find his true love."
Curt's stomach twisted and his mouth tasted like he had bitten into moldy
bread. How could he make a joke about the White Rose Killer? Gretchen McKenzie
was dead, and now Katrina Harper alternated between terror and frustration.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"I
don't think someone like the White Rose would waste time and money on
advertising. He's the kind of guy who sees what he wants and punishes anyone
who won't give it to him."<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-54204546286220428252024-02-14T01:00:00.004-05:002024-02-14T01:00:00.147-05:00Upcoming release sample: INQUEST<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s2550/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s320/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.YeOldeDragonBooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a></p><p><br /> Releasing March 1</p><p><br /></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Later, M’kar realized she had been planning her days of laziness a
little too loudly, and the universe heard.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Ashrock dropped the bomb over dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“What do you mean, Etrusca and Great-grandfather are missing?” M’kar
put down her mug of seooli tea, grateful he told her before she took a mouthful.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“They’ve vanished altogether from Le’anka,” Jeyn said, punctuated with
a little shrug. “And no, they weren’t assassinated. We’ve been receiving
messages from both sides of the growing battle, asking where they are,
demanding we hand them over, and threatening all sorts of dire punishments.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Battle?” M’kar’s brain latched onto that word, among all the other
bad ones. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Someone tied Etrusca’s emergence from the surbda crater to the
disappearance of the Ancestors’ voices,” Ashrock said, with a shrug that
mirrored his wife’s. M’kar wondered how soon that little gesture would grow
irritating. Her parents weren’t the kind of people to shrug and signal
something was of little importance. Unless …<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“What do you know? What haven’t you admitted to those indiferps and
how could … Oh.” She sat back and wished they were eating indoors instead of in
the pavilion by the firefish pond. She needed to shove back a chair and stomp
away from the table and work off the shivers of apprehension as all sorts of
images raced through her mind. It was hard to rise dramatically when she was
sitting on a thick cushion on the tile pavement. “So Etrusca was right, and the
Ancestors’ voices are actual voices, pulled in through the dimensional warping
of the broken Gate. Once we moved most of the pieces off Nisandros, the
dimensional warping stopped, and the voices stopped and …” A chuckle escaped
her. “And all the lunatic prophets have no excuse to do crazy things.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Etrusca is uniting most of the worst of the clans by their hatred for
her. Our clan is getting blamed for silencing the Ancestors and disrupting the
totally idiotic traditions and structure of government. Your uncle Rokas sent
you an enormous chest full of family treasures to thank you, by the way.” He
snorted, grinning so half the tattoos on his face twisted or disappeared into
folds in his skin. “All my brothers and cousins and uncles are delighted,
preparing for war, strengthening the clan house defenses, answering honor
challenges. You wouldn’t believe all the apologies I’ve been receiving on your
behalf, expressing regret for trying to kill you when you were a child.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Nisandrians are insane.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Yes,” her mother said, “but life is never boring when you’re married
to a Nisandrian.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I warned you, <i>na’nooshki</i>.” Ashrock reached across the table
and intertwined his fingers with hers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">If her parents started making smoochie noises or even got up and
started kissing, M’kar might throw herself into the pond. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: left;">“So what’s the other boot you’re about to drop on me?” she asked, to
head that off. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy evidence that her parents were
still silly, sloppy in love, but she suspected that dropping sensation she got
was something like envy.</span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-5211741019059866762024-02-12T01:00:00.004-05:002024-02-12T01:00:00.130-05:00New release sample: BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s2550/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s320/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Investigator?” David blinked a few times. His
mouth moved like he was going to say something else, but didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Yes, you remember our friend Eden, from when
Charlotte tried to move in with Cilla?” Melba said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Oh, yeah, right. I remember. You threw me off
track. I’m talking about security for your house, keep someone from breaking in,
or at least send for the cops if something happens, and you talk about that lunatic.”
He chuckled, but the sound didn’t entirely convince Melba.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Never to worry.” Cilla gestured at the back door.
“Ted keeps an eye on things, and if he thinks the situation is dire enough we need
a burglar alarm, he’ll help us with it. Not that we don’t appreciate your help,
but he is a police officer, he lives here, and he knows how things are done.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin that didn’t
quite reach his eyes. “I’m big city and you’re little township, with nothing in
common.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I wouldn’t put it that way.” She chuckled. “Now,
would you like to join us for dinner? I’ve got a lovely batch of chicken and potato
wedges I put in the slow cooker this morning, and we’ve got the last of the corn
on the cob from Dalrymple’s. Their corn is always so good.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Thanks, but …” David shrugged. “Got a business
meeting on this side of town. Just thought I’d check on you before I headed over
there. You didn’t get back to me, so I figured maybe you were out of the house all
day, or out of town or …” Another shrug. “Glad you’re okay and on top of things.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He turned like he would head down the winding
path of paving stones through the middle of the garden, and out the back of the
yard, then stopped after two steps and headed up the driveway to the street.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Give our greetings to your folks,” Melba called.
“How are they doing, by the way?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Fine, fine. You know how it is with them. Always
running around.” David walked backward a dozen steps as they made their farewells.
He turned left at the end of the driveway and in a few steps vanished behind the
house next door.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Huh, that doesn’t make sense.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“What doesn’t?” Cilla was already on the back
porch and fumbling with her key. “How about dinner outside tonight? It’s cooled
down enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Fine.” Melba couldn’t recall seeing any cars
parked on the street between Overview and their house, so where was David going?
A sigh escaped her as she turned and headed down the path through the flowerbeds.
She stopped halfway there, so she was partially hidden by the line of skinny evergreens
that stood as a threadbare sort of barrier between their back yard and the parking
lot of the apartment building behind them. Sure enough, she saw David jogging down
the sidewalk and turning left into the parking lot to a car parked next to the driveway. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: left;">He had come up through the back
of the house, like he had done dozens of times before when he came over for picnics
or brought his parents for a family get-together, whenever relatives dropped in
from out of town. That explained why Heinrich went after him, coming through the
trees like that. The old curmudgeon certainly wouldn’t have believed David when
he claimed he was there on a legitimate visit, if he didn’t come to the front door
“like an honest man with nothing to hide,” as he often finished so many of his complaints
nowadays. But why didn’t David want them to know where he had parked?</span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-55482114359099280332024-02-08T01:00:00.008-05:002024-02-08T01:00:00.140-05:00Upcoming release sample: WHITE ROSES<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s2550/White%20Roses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSfiqR-CU2iYhY5_FCWZ8i4Vh1uby0507op28LV4q-NDX8r9bplZx4LThURfp57DuZrT1WiI_rUkOfJKXUyadJUYtNFgGrgjstlHJsQ-OxeVjffTlJVLMYT8gdcoOcq3PYAibuLfjkJxGttukgS5c_YPulcBzjLZsCTVHlFPYaLVxMv-HHyOIxc-UrXkQ/s320/White%20Roses.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Snow
frosted the stiff grass over Angel's grave. Toni shivered, seeing in her
imagination the white roses that had been there every time she came to the
cemetery, until her parents couldn't take the pain, the cruel, silent taunting
from the unidentified killer, and moved them to Indiana. Shaking, she crouched
and leaned against the simple cross that held Angel's name, and her dates of
birth and death. She had a hole in the index finger of her driving glove, but
she ignored the wet and cold to clear out the engraved letters in the gray and
pink granite.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There
were no roses on Angel's grave. She supposed she should be grateful. How long
had the roses continued? Until he found a new true love to haunt with notes and
roses and demands for eternal loyalty?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"He's
doing it again," she whispered, and her throat tried to close up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Toni
blinked away tears that felt as if they had been building up for years, just
waiting to burst out. Her head ached from the pressure. She rubbed the tears
away with the back of her fist. Now wasn't the time for crying. Not yet. When
the White Rose was caught, exposed, and punished, then she could cry. Then she
could finally ask her parents to forgive her for keeping Angel's secrets from
them. Why hadn't she tattled on her sister? Their parents wouldn't have
approved if they found out Angel had a boyfriend. They would have made her
break up with him. She wouldn't have gone to the park to meet her boyfriend.
She wouldn't have died, strangled by fencing wire and left lying in the dirt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Tabor
Heights still felt small, quiet, and safe. Just like it had when Toni, Angel
and their parents had moved here. She had liked her small classes in school and
the quiet, tree-shaded streets. She had felt safe going anywhere she wanted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Toni
hadn't felt safe since Curt Mehdlang went to the park to look for Angel and
came back with the police, pale-faced and red-eyed from crying.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">She had
to get that job at the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Picayune.</i> She
needed a job, and working for the local newspaper would give her all the
information she needed, immediately. People expected reporters to ask
questions.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"Please,
God, if You're listening to me anymore, I have to have that job. I have to do
it for Angel."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Standing,
feeling a little wobbly in her knees, Toni stepped backward from the grave. She
wondered where the other murdered girl was buried. She wondered what the
current target of the White Rose Killer was doing right that moment. Did she
feel curious about the man who wrote her those demanding, frightening love
notes? Did she feel angry?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Toni
thought about contacting the police, to ask to talk to the girl. Would they
believe her, if she told them about Angel and her theories about the White Rose?
Would they think she was a crackpot, capitalizing on someone's terror? Would it
do any good to tell anyone? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: left;">Bottom line: she had to do
something. Even if she had to do it alone.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-12272119928620436882024-02-07T01:00:00.001-05:002024-02-07T01:00:00.143-05:00Upcoming release sample: INQUEST<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s2550/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90toYoBH28juW0gDIgIsCbVs-sgif3h-UTwknW4oKsdGquCb924VKLlWbLwFr4jlWFvrM3ATfN6q_77j1K5vIjOBvdq4HTJUCYzaGOnd2NUGlRJu7WzVNgAtsmg69p05Ln4jzHzZ1SH5WYPxKOtQO4XV0cFdPGvb_1ZFXz86IoluEqFUJmtssl_j4W5h4/s320/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><a href="http://www.YeOldeDragonBooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books</a><p></p><p><br /> Releasing March 1</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“We have a … development,” M’kar reported,
stepping onto the bridge less than half an hour after the <i>Defender</i>
settled into orbit around Le’anka. She gestured at the forward viewscreen, where
Anwesta slowly rotated in orbit, growing larger as the ship approached.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Don’t tell me.” Genys looked around the bridge.
“Granny got on board, despite the newest update to the drac-proof fence?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Exact opposite. Ask Axe where all the teacher
dracs are.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Battleaxe chirped and twisted her head, looking
around the bridge. Genys would have liked to have laughed at her little black
drac’s confusion, but that sort of worried her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“She can’t find them.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“On the ship,” M’kar said. “I can’t feel them
anywhere on the ship. I sent out the call and got …” She shrugged. “Not exactly
echoes, but this definite feeling I was shouting into an empty room.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“They have to be on the station already. Probably
teleported over as soon as we were close enough.” Decker stepped up to join
them. Spitfire crooned and rubbed his cheek with her muzzle, then chirped in
what certainly struck Genys as a relieved tone. “Did you get that?” His eyes
narrowed and he twisted his head to look at his drac.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“An impression they’re gone and not coming back?”
M’kar leaned on the arm of the command chair. “I reached out to the dracs on
the station, and I get a strong impression of a cold shoulder, but with a lot
of regret.” She snorted. “Granny is behind the effort to ignore us. Sour
grapes, I say.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Please, Enlo …” Genys stopped herself there. She
had the awful feeling that despite her best efforts, a wide grin was about to
split her face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Well, I did get—” M’kar paused, her head cocked
to one side, eyes narrowing, in what was clearly a listening pose. “Dulit’s
contacting me through our dracs …” After a few seconds, she nodded. “It’s
official. The kids are old enough to be on their own. No more overseers.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“No more spies for Granny,” Decker added.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-16126505472455381832024-02-05T01:00:00.012-05:002024-02-05T01:00:00.357-05:00New release sample: BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s2550/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAdhv_9-rExC87mbqQ7mH-ujEuVpq_YLn2-i-o6lr4Xk3pC5bXHz0qE5wZyzMiiKsEUDJA4SQwR5fx1GL6YQvOsS6EcaYZmiBIZNARKphad5dwEeDcD6_bVYCbtNGdB4rb8SWJ_19p-H1bh0__71S5MtEUpr7yWKbZrej0B-e4zUq6zol-djKtVfTKfL6/s320/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><a href="http://www.MtZionRidgePress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press</a><p></p><p>Listen to the Books on the Ridge podcast for a discount code to get $1 off ebook, audiobook or print from Mt. Zion Ridge Press!</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“What in the world …” Cilla sat forward, resting
her hands on the dashboard, as Melba navigated the corner onto their street, preparing
to pull into the driveway of their duplex.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“What? Who’s—is that Heinrich?” Melba tapped the
brake, but Heinrich and the young man he stomped after, up the driveway, stepped
onto the sidewalk before she pulled in. Not that she would ever willingly hit Heinrich,
or even tap him with the bumper, but she thought some honest fear might be good
for the old curmudgeon. She swore he had been impossible to live with ever since
Cilla turned him down in eleventh grade and went to the prom with Eddie McGillicutty.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Is that David?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Melba didn’t turn her head to look. She pulled
into her usual parking spot in front of the garage, put the car into park, and turned
off the ignition first. By the time she got the door open, Cilla was sliding out
of the passenger seat. David walked down the driveway to meet them, alone. Heinrich
wasn’t visible, out in front of the house, but Melba thought she heard his stomping,
slapping footsteps and his grumbling voice as he headed back to his house three
driveways down the street.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Gee, I come over here enough times, you’d think
the neighborhood watchdog would recognize me by now,” David greeted them, and grinned.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“He’s just being a good neighbor,” Cilla said.
“You were walking around the house, weren’t you? Checking the doors and windows,
like you always do?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Well, yeah. Gotta look out for you, y’know?”
He shrugged. “I’d feel a lot better about you both if you’d let me install that
home security system my company designed. Especially with all the weird stuff that’s
been going on in town lately. Who’d ever have thought sleepy little Cadburn would
have murders?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“We appreciate your concern, but we’re fine.”
She patted his hand. “Now, I’ll just bet you’re here to follow up on that message
you left before. Not to worry. We got our investigator friend working on the problem.
She says we’re well protected against Charlotte’s schemes, thanks to all the preparation
we’ve been doing for our business.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-8955854584285457142024-02-03T01:00:00.035-05:002024-02-03T01:00:00.241-05:00Update: Time to Look Ahead -- Pre-Orders, Anyone?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9K6OcY7zynVAz0K58PJSKo7k9MsMN2GKe-L4F8kmOq4QAFamEJf2Q38xZNn1eoI6oE24mLcaDH5nVEsFADJuAKP81dC_ZDP4enQ1Ko7axhcaSR-ggBAiLRmfoVimDXj7rTBqcLFqTImF0LulfIlPVXirWIyIIb0Q6HDDFOnB4U9iDFM36LAWn0cPxjxw-/s1800/Report-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9K6OcY7zynVAz0K58PJSKo7k9MsMN2GKe-L4F8kmOq4QAFamEJf2Q38xZNn1eoI6oE24mLcaDH5nVEsFADJuAKP81dC_ZDP4enQ1Ko7axhcaSR-ggBAiLRmfoVimDXj7rTBqcLFqTImF0LulfIlPVXirWIyIIb0Q6HDDFOnB4U9iDFM36LAWn0cPxjxw-/w200-h200/Report-001.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> WHEW!</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I just finished narrating the last chapter of INQUEST, the next AFV Defender novel.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The book releases March 1, so there's no time to waste, getting the audio files edited and polished and uploaded. The ebook version has been uploaded and should be available for pre-order in the next few days from your favorite online store. I hope to have the print book uploaded, and also available for pre-orders, within the next week!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7INAw2EUx3YBgcm0jVYBEVP4hFWV-w0Wlgj6KVQEMpzYYTrZR758xP4g6HLhLiu0BaNpi247st9MWMNmI_KZlLgc0-hgkW_dBUb1VApRm8C3AHg_hUNGWKhQuEiH5ODek1KErSL0rcEAfyYjRRAt3QtARhlQjwTc4XiRqpR7BXqUiYs-rasrlPlN-qReG/s2550/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7INAw2EUx3YBgcm0jVYBEVP4hFWV-w0Wlgj6KVQEMpzYYTrZR758xP4g6HLhLiu0BaNpi247st9MWMNmI_KZlLgc0-hgkW_dBUb1VApRm8C3AHg_hUNGWKhQuEiH5ODek1KErSL0rcEAfyYjRRAt3QtARhlQjwTc4XiRqpR7BXqUiYs-rasrlPlN-qReG/w133-h200/Inquest%20AFV%20Defender.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm also working on a guidebook to the AFV Defender universe. This will include a timeline, so you know where you are between the books and the short stories, wherever you happen to be reading. I'll also have some nifty character art that I've been working with a wonderful Fiverr artist on producing, slowly but surely. And, if you've ever wondered what some of the Nisandrian and Gatesh and other phrases mean, that the crew of the Defender throw around from time to time ... that will be in there too!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8a9A4mMWtUwlLOT-29MS8gUjIOunOIViLztkUIsBB-G-i00Aj8XaKyXBL2XEYCG1a1-ODXMTU3Disw1XBqMNdXj6sCyadvxIYIm32F-VwEovWGf4dVnAeZ_SF2GKEXn-grhkcuWapnL_3A4v3EG5o6ZGFzu9fyK2g7dYqhgPzVGPpATq0imO8dzl7_LE/s2700/BeastlyBeauty-print-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8a9A4mMWtUwlLOT-29MS8gUjIOunOIViLztkUIsBB-G-i00Aj8XaKyXBL2XEYCG1a1-ODXMTU3Disw1XBqMNdXj6sCyadvxIYIm32F-VwEovWGf4dVnAeZ_SF2GKEXn-grhkcuWapnL_3A4v3EG5o6ZGFzu9fyK2g7dYqhgPzVGPpATq0imO8dzl7_LE/w133-h200/BeastlyBeauty-print-001.jpg" width="133" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Speaking of pre-orders, THE BEASTLY BEAUTY, the next novel in the Enchanted Castle Archives series, is available for pre-order in paper and ebook. PLUS, it's the current story being told, two chapters every week, on the Ye Olde Dragon's Library storytelling podcast.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">If you pre-order from Ye Olde Dragon Books, you'll get a new, free short story that won't be released until BEASTLY BEAUTY releases. It's called ASH, BREAD AND THE BOY, and follows our heroine, Ash, as she has an odd little adventure during her first courier run. This is a story that takes place "between the pages" in the first few chapters of BEASTLY BEAUTY.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiV9S5viPaqaIzlg7twKsp76uNYnHW7SHms0tNTZWXFrFkZuHusoZIu7Kswa-m4O4ZXEwEKmpuHbeot0mZYWfiYUSlYd0tYkkcjNJjI-ub8fNrmILYmO-J1LWZWHryO6gkVKNX2PbyrRqPpL-v4EiYyk3kGU2JVnrDWmOZ-zxJyODN8kwrXgT2UtrCyrrg/s2700/Ash_Bread_short.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiV9S5viPaqaIzlg7twKsp76uNYnHW7SHms0tNTZWXFrFkZuHusoZIu7Kswa-m4O4ZXEwEKmpuHbeot0mZYWfiYUSlYd0tYkkcjNJjI-ub8fNrmILYmO-J1LWZWHryO6gkVKNX2PbyrRqPpL-v4EiYyk3kGU2JVnrDWmOZ-zxJyODN8kwrXgT2UtrCyrrg/w133-h200/Ash_Bread_short.jpg" width="133" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">If you're interested in pre-ordering either of these books, keep checking back here, on <a href="http://www.Mlevigne.com" target="_blank">my website</a>, or <a href="http://www.YeOldeDragonBooks.com" target="_blank">Ye Olde Dragon Books </a>for the announcement and the link to the pre-order page. </span></p><p><br /></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-34992569942593460952024-02-01T12:17:00.001-05:002024-02-01T12:17:53.166-05:00It's RELEASE DAY!<p style="text-align: center;"> <b><span style="font-size: large;">It's a BOOK BIRTHDAY!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Newly released today!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Book & Mug Mysteries #3</span></b></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1cHginJF1Yc18fGKS8ks4NnnxXuCjE79osOqKpg34fpYHxE2bxA9k74QexlF_vt-JcvhLhfigHi7qqvjwZ-bcrG7pvrIwZbxLYFkF6Gy4XQYSj2JJbJdkLZgg2emqWiFoAbVhnr4_7X-hUaQo1MOoqUBeOgysjHR0dIo7-mU7Dgc72M0VDADQ9NBBC0T/s2550/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1cHginJF1Yc18fGKS8ks4NnnxXuCjE79osOqKpg34fpYHxE2bxA9k74QexlF_vt-JcvhLhfigHi7qqvjwZ-bcrG7pvrIwZbxLYFkF6Gy4XQYSj2JJbJdkLZgg2emqWiFoAbVhnr4_7X-hUaQo1MOoqUBeOgysjHR0dIo7-mU7Dgc72M0VDADQ9NBBC0T/w266-h400/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><p>Ready for another search for clues in Cadburn Township?</p><p>Ready for another visit to your favorite coffee shop and bookstore, Book & Mug?</p><p></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><b>BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">When the Tweed cousins, Melba and Cilla, set out to open their candle
shop, Brighten Your Corner, obstacles pop out of the woodwork. And from out of
the walls and under the floor. Starting with an overbearing cousin who wants to
take over, insisting the shop was her idea, a nasty former tenant with shady
business associates, who insists the shop they now lease still belongs to him,
and a family mystery tangled with rumors of a treasure hunt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The cousins at Book & Mug consider the Tweeds family. Eden, Kai
and Troy, with the help of Saundra and Rufus are determined to help them
through the threats and contradictions and increasingly odd and frightening
incidents that just don't make sense. The situation gets serious enough that
even the help of mysterious, cynical Nick West, with his powerful connections,
is more than welcome.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> Check it out today -- buy it today from <a href="http://www.mtzionridgepress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press,</a> or anywhere you prefer to shop online. It's waiting!</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-69299837600517080422024-01-17T21:48:00.005-05:002024-01-17T21:48:54.168-05:00King Sumo Giveaway -- So Many New Worlds Event!!!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-txs5jY0eqwEBy6tSOZMPBVp8Tzc7IWTmijFDL-8oBZvpQo2rIRR3mAGAL7DsaRhGPIKpNgee29rWvQSbWwefv1qL6S6uCt6iYgYn2enhd2rKxbVUPCmyKpB7ByeAB8Cyxw_-gxIayzGYiG9NmRZT6Gvm7uog579LJcdIPQjbIec9SbCc5CwMygI-xCGO/s604/Sumo-GIveawayGraphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="604" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-txs5jY0eqwEBy6tSOZMPBVp8Tzc7IWTmijFDL-8oBZvpQo2rIRR3mAGAL7DsaRhGPIKpNgee29rWvQSbWwefv1qL6S6uCt6iYgYn2enhd2rKxbVUPCmyKpB7ByeAB8Cyxw_-gxIayzGYiG9NmRZT6Gvm7uog579LJcdIPQjbIec9SbCc5CwMygI-xCGO/w400-h391/Sumo-GIveawayGraphic.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Check out the authors in the King
Sumo Giveaway event before everything gets rolling.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;">(Thanks to Pam Halter, who put the list together for easy
copying ….)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/somanynewworlds24?__eep__=6&__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=*NK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">#somanynewworlds24</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">J.L. Burrows<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.jlburrows.com%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR34OYDVsTdMbo4j0FdsieqS2eSyi_yVlO33YMvax1gex5Pj61SOsA3VXTM&h=AT0c3nnRBmWUmjXH6z-mlmDd6aHgAXDSS1TbLrTzP1cUs9C992Z-UY8TBRj__A0WzU2Ea8Cp8zwBnQCY_dYJSI4yIMNXu2sMm6BjIF0HxzYRKt8V5KYw5rSoZXe9kL2FCpxoVRuiWTlPbGQt0g&__tn__=-UK-R&c%5b0%5d=AT3BUKJZk0S1d3KYkGmcx11jsxh9ZDSALQqUB_CT6Hr0uIjLDSdPyD3mV9ZsTkGsdYzlctl0d6VAGPnYbwYMl9cQtNFYgfC-2DCOS5PXWuIX-Emp0f462KQFz0yZHmLnxub5EyRND2go1frI5heD0xytvqa8XB81dWVSv32OYmgaNuqANw"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">www.jlburrows.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/JenniferLynnBurrows?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">Jennifer Lynn Burrows</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha Corvin<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://sendfox.com/lp/10d4xg?fbclid=IwAR3zg0EWImOobiVilDdPChCSJBhXtl5iSkLNF5hvwxNWY3kAA2pqVAIyLlI"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://sendfox.com/lp/10d4xg</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100089857391351&__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-UK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100089857391351</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Michelle Levigne<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.Mlevigne.com%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR3zg0EWImOobiVilDdPChCSJBhXtl5iSkLNF5hvwxNWY3kAA2pqVAIyLlI&h=AT3-04ZPhH4DD8PXimlutgiS89wU8qZhdgX8JLdSY2yXJZPI3g4J4X8GavbQk_bJAp067WwMh4icf3sYcBzBMaNwTBv-VlnMZjpC13opIA5uHaTcevVgKvzRYD9KF-uPMWvacuPIhPULxmggAg&__tn__=-UK-R&c%5b0%5d=AT3BUKJZk0S1d3KYkGmcx11jsxh9ZDSALQqUB_CT6Hr0uIjLDSdPyD3mV9ZsTkGsdYzlctl0d6VAGPnYbwYMl9cQtNFYgfC-2DCOS5PXWuIX-Emp0f462KQFz0yZHmLnxub5EyRND2go1frI5heD0xytvqa8XB81dWVSv32OYmgaNuqANw"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">www.Mlevigne.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMichelleLevigne?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">Michelle Levigne, Author
and Editor</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ben Avery<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fbenavery.com%2Fmaillist%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR0Zpm4rEmMTzYYAXKxdMvJyu0f_ibVXhHx1NhQfaVsObLZn_n1F9EEJkvY&h=AT3XXuKTzKlCNDjEuDWHolWK5cQ5jUH0Gat4Njbl8Z13DLbcRO68Iz1n-2TuQLKjCu6GtFqmQGwq9m1UeNgF69w3-22YaPcVjKhUeIOI5jFViFqWqJD_O37d0aRr4TtfYqHAb21qFTnDXxz9mg&__tn__=-UK-R&c%5b0%5d=AT3BUKJZk0S1d3KYkGmcx11jsxh9ZDSALQqUB_CT6Hr0uIjLDSdPyD3mV9ZsTkGsdYzlctl0d6VAGPnYbwYMl9cQtNFYgfC-2DCOS5PXWuIX-Emp0f462KQFz0yZHmLnxub5EyRND2go1frI5heD0xytvqa8XB81dWVSv32OYmgaNuqANw"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://benavery.com/maillist/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/BenAveryStoryteller?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://www.facebook.com/BenAveryStoryteller/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Trista Shaye<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://substack.com/@tristashaye?utm_source=profile-page&fbclid=IwAR2pgyMJF66LetRtzjdGsPuMR7FZ3u4ZU20nn15SkVLsCoh3FSp75piHz4Y"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://substack.com/@tristashaye?utm_source=profile-page</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/TristaShaye?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://www.facebook.com/TristaShaye</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Candice Pedraza Yamnitz <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fsubscribepage.io%2Fk5YZRE%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR3gAb4ATmNUZ71_MoIsGvpqEdfMw27cAC61jiyyPaRFxuFKxorhdOF1-8U&h=AT0Sxb-1ax69F5Ux6qILBYezXkcj9yGoxMLX_CnUc4Iu8ZkHVl5yiW9qLpyDtnPIgqKuGDLllagHed65B68-jdTEgx174bgUb91OL7DVlVQNsna9oj_zqQSKOvrNeDDpFLF6SE9rOcMBF8KpRg&__tn__=-UK-R&c%5b0%5d=AT3BUKJZk0S1d3KYkGmcx11jsxh9ZDSALQqUB_CT6Hr0uIjLDSdPyD3mV9ZsTkGsdYzlctl0d6VAGPnYbwYMl9cQtNFYgfC-2DCOS5PXWuIX-Emp0f462KQFz0yZHmLnxub5EyRND2go1frI5heD0xytvqa8XB81dWVSv32OYmgaNuqANw"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://subscribepage.io/k5YZRE</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/candiceyamnitz?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://www.facebook.com/candiceyamnitz</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amelie Lynn <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/k2a9n1?fbclid=IwAR26E1eXDXS8Wz2r1EfF5NHbGK_ctXzHjDPu-Wdylo8NB1AZkw6N1tuoPPs"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/k2a9n1</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/walshmountainpublishing?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://www.facebook.com/walshmountainpublishing</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Erin R. Howard<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6w4q4?fbclid=IwAR2EdQPoKamabRpJzW0dHsJ4gKE7fnvGoHOm-_EgvWkPBbj3pd0qzJcCKNA"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6w4q4</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/E.R.H.Fiction?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZV2HBEVMnKa9TE5UVQANfTYOQGjkmCL8GPx1eYrND5-bSLOjwkhhCQeo8D_Yx5oFKTWls9Fp5zMPc6uEOcCihXfBe8wu_xlpWVRF0CC8eFvc1uWjvB3lj3Psqls5Jr_ubTgDQJnSzPCKOFxdMx8veNo&__tn__=-%5dK-R"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">https://www.facebook.com/E.R.H.Fiction/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And the website to sign up for Pam
Halter’s newsletter!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.pamhalter.com%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR2pgyMJF66LetRtzjdGsPuMR7FZ3u4ZU20nn15SkVLsCoh3FSp75piHz4Y&h=AT2knA2gZhQcwr7ASodxcDejdOVyRZGUHEIEbto7_i6KAyWhgw7eUXK2CsU-MZ6dbfAKIlH_EfOI02OyNp5KTxYzcHjEqO1SgIWHQfB2EPtcWy8xaKME-xrRgm08XX7OpEK1OEucrS7Mw6Jefg&__tn__=-UK-R&c%5b0%5d=AT3BUKJZk0S1d3KYkGmcx11jsxh9ZDSALQqUB_CT6Hr0uIjLDSdPyD3mV9ZsTkGsdYzlctl0d6VAGPnYbwYMl9cQtNFYgfC-2DCOS5PXWuIX-Emp0f462KQFz0yZHmLnxub5EyRND2go1frI5heD0xytvqa8XB81dWVSv32OYmgaNuqANw"><span style="font-family: "inherit", serif;">www.pamhalter.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-63733908911091820492024-01-16T20:14:00.001-05:002024-01-16T20:14:35.229-05:00#SOMANYNEWWORLDS24<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2i6CSkhxKyaipJ7Y3rM7Ak2BrxDR_23Lsl11cbMkFbEeoSMGblVNHatRNqdy2zBozzDOO37BGUX_UtKstdwt6Or-ljEnWB94H83lX7d2rzzMMMEOhJRvhVOUKfMSaeHAfbWB-j5fzG9MGlQtvEgs52AbTEkYJEPQr1LQIg4BEBUB4Isj4nDnKPZCjXin/s1180/NewYearsParty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="843" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2i6CSkhxKyaipJ7Y3rM7Ak2BrxDR_23Lsl11cbMkFbEeoSMGblVNHatRNqdy2zBozzDOO37BGUX_UtKstdwt6Or-ljEnWB94H83lX7d2rzzMMMEOhJRvhVOUKfMSaeHAfbWB-j5fzG9MGlQtvEgs52AbTEkYJEPQr1LQIg4BEBUB4Isj4nDnKPZCjXin/s320/NewYearsParty.jpg" width="229" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />This giveaway is about visiting as many book worlds as you can in this new year
2024! So join us as we celebrate writing alongside you, our awesome readers!
Win books, swag, and MONEY!</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm
going to introduce you to some amazing authors! Take a moment to check them
out! Sign up for their newsletters, and always like, follow, and comment on
this post to get the conversation started. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">WHO'S EXCITED FOR... <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">A New
Year's Party of New Worlds!</span></span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Roboto; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;">We
will have:</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-align: left;">a King
Sumo giveaway (8 days long) with three incredible prizes</span></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;">During
the 8 days, you can follow the virtual tour through each author's Facebook
group page (January 20-27)</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;">A
scavenger hunt for along the tour (Each participant will post {hide} something
in their group page for hunters to find, and pin a
welcome/next-stop-on-the-scavenger-hunt post)</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;">Be
there LIVE for the Saturday, January 27th announcement where we will </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;">Giveaway with the announcement of
the winners of the three separate prizes.</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;">1.
Book-Themed Swag Bundle Giveaway 2. Book Giveaway AND 3. A Grand Prize Amazon
Gift Card</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Roboto; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #272b2a; line-height: 115%;">#bookstagram #bookstagrammer #booknerd #readers
#bookaddict #bookish #authorlife </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222;">#JLBURROWSAUTHOR
</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #272b2a; line-height: 115%;">#bookworm
#books #writing #writer#booklover #book </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222;">#SOMANYNEWWORLDS24
</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #272b2a; line-height: 115%;">#reading<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 10.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">@jlburrowsauthor
@steampunk_tales @tristashaye @candiceyamnitz @amylynn_walsh @erinrhoward
@benaverystoryteller @michellelevigne<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 10.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On
Facebook:authorpamhalter</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-33947613603838285022024-01-15T17:37:00.000-05:002024-01-15T17:37:20.038-05:00NOW Available: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFwy6ggS9ESkkQO7Se10ga6YoOVMfR9AJH2bvryXCdmyeHZnARCu2Ie8ztvD1yeCqIVS4CCnmboNgaQvVhy5MPqg5Xd6aAgO3NlbOHly4HVqdneC9eo63_XJvUxvgQqzYP6e935efifO4hSgH5fp1p2GSMQHk9-GgLNuTMerijFVItOPHZhWNzMf85f34/s1800/Guardians-Celebrate-Free-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFwy6ggS9ESkkQO7Se10ga6YoOVMfR9AJH2bvryXCdmyeHZnARCu2Ie8ztvD1yeCqIVS4CCnmboNgaQvVhy5MPqg5Xd6aAgO3NlbOHly4HVqdneC9eo63_XJvUxvgQqzYP6e935efifO4hSgH5fp1p2GSMQHk9-GgLNuTMerijFVItOPHZhWNzMf85f34/s320/Guardians-Celebrate-Free-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">MUSIC IN THE NIGHT, the final book in the
Guardians of the Time Stream series (steampunk/gas lamp/fantasy) is now
available in paper, ebook and audio.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Join my newsletter and get the prequel that
launched the series, ODESSA FREMONT, in ebook.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">This offer ends January 31.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Click this link to sign up and claim your book.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><a href="https://BookHip.com/GPWCLCG">https://BookHip.com/GPWCLCG</a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">You can unsubscribe at any time, but keep in mind
that my newsletter subscribers get a chance to claim free ebooks before they're
released, and get advance notice of when new books are coming out, plus a
chance to ask questions or make suggestions for upcoming books, and win prizes
during the year.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Why not join the fun?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Celebrate the release of MUSIC IN THE NIGHT now!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><a href="https://BookHip.com/GPWCLCG">https://BookHip.com/GPWCLCG</a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">For more information about my books, check out
Mlevigne.com or YeOldeDragonBooks.com<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#freebook<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#newrelease<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#steampunk<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#gaslamp<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#newslettersignup<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#fantasybooks<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">#ebooks<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-37729775774960958842024-01-11T01:00:00.006-05:002024-01-11T01:00:00.132-05:00MUSIC IN THE NIGHT -- Excerpt<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxq-2o-kwup23u9r9QilDYrTO6LMq07hmfT6SLoarwGLk4kUkCFF4HkVjoHEZumSo09nggDuWYYltrHxrKkQdN6P-65DHg6xkJ1Tgopnuk1gFxahcWYHZt02RsViiV_6hpm6faAmcbKJiHEKHlatkdJjEpkD69GEhAFS-KC4GxsQkCzxRSP2axcxWP-z4/s2700/MusicNight-PrintCover-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxq-2o-kwup23u9r9QilDYrTO6LMq07hmfT6SLoarwGLk4kUkCFF4HkVjoHEZumSo09nggDuWYYltrHxrKkQdN6P-65DHg6xkJ1Tgopnuk1gFxahcWYHZt02RsViiV_6hpm6faAmcbKJiHEKHlatkdJjEpkD69GEhAFS-KC4GxsQkCzxRSP2axcxWP-z4/s320/MusicNight-PrintCover-001.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
her father fell from grace and his colleagues and superiors chose to believe
the vicious rumors that shredded his reputation, peace of mind, and his health,
Carmen had thought at first Boniface had been behind those false stories; especially
when some of the ugly, unbelievable stories and accusations focused on her.
Then he had showed up like an avenging angel, fighting to defend her father,
mocking those who chose to believe the lies. Even with the taint of disgrace
clinging to Carmen and Reverend Mackenzie, he had still wanted to marry her and
take both of them away to a quiet life in a small congregation waiting for him.
His anger had been tempered with sorrow when Carmen refused him again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Now...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Carmen
found she could breathe again when Boniface's blue-gray gaze slid off of hers
and he turned to study the other side of the street. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Nothing,"
he said, his voice colder than the rain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Are
you sure you heard it?" the driver asked. In a moment, the steam-cart
carried them both out of sight.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"You
don't hear it, idiot. You feel it. In your bones."<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"My
bones are frozen."<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Whatever
Boniface said in response was hidden in the drumming rain, the splashing of the
cart's wheels and the rumble-hiss of its engine as they continued down the
street.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Carmen
brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding
her face in her knees as she shuddered. For just a moment, even as memories and
hurt tumbled through her mind, she had been about to open her mouth and shout
for him. What made her think that he could possibly be willing to rescue her? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"You
are a fool, Carmen Mackenzie," she whispered. "Just as much a fool as
coming here to this great, cruel city in the first place. What ever made you
think your answers would be here?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
knew the answer to that readily enough. When her mother was alive, Chicago had
been an adventure. A place of wonders to explore, grand edifices to gawk at,
and stores and concert halls and libraries. There was always time for something
fascinating after the missionary society business had been attended to. Carmen
had felt so sure that when she arrived in Chicago, her memories would guide her
to friends of her mother, to people who could help her. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Carmen remembered her mother going on errands in the
city, always by herself, and once had asked her father who her mother had
visited, what she had done. Reverend Mackenzie had responded that he didn't
know. Anna had painful secrets in her past, and he trusted her when she asked
him to never ask, because knowing could be dangerous.</span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-83592401220998923662024-01-09T15:27:00.002-05:002024-01-09T15:27:53.067-05:00Ready to be COZY?<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyoWtibgZjyHuZNwE_TPaHXKQKHT8RgYSz0RuNfffE8CxINkoNH51XoRrdN8bBZB_24lxZ212JO7XEPPGOZWYBt2ezm3RrKHvue-LiwPdCkO7nEolEfjJcHyIRcx0j3hyphenhyphen9yClj6T4vXzNqg-9af1kiTDYkiQr50_nkBFTzsuNTqSn6UwE9MAsk371RKUp/s1800/Brighten-Square-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyoWtibgZjyHuZNwE_TPaHXKQKHT8RgYSz0RuNfffE8CxINkoNH51XoRrdN8bBZB_24lxZ212JO7XEPPGOZWYBt2ezm3RrKHvue-LiwPdCkO7nEolEfjJcHyIRcx0j3hyphenhyphen9yClj6T4vXzNqg-9af1kiTDYkiQr50_nkBFTzsuNTqSn6UwE9MAsk371RKUp/w400-h400/Brighten-Square-001.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">COMING!</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The new Book & Mug Mysteries adventure.</b></span></p><p></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When the Tweed cousins, Melba and Cilla, set out to open their candle
shop, Brighten Your Corner, obstacles pop out of the woodwork. And from out of
the walls and under the floor. Starting with an overbearing cousin who wants to
take over, insisting the shop was her idea, a nasty former tenant with shady
business associates, who insists the shop they now lease still belongs to him,
and a family mystery tangled with rumors of a treasure hunt.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: medium;">COMING FEBRUARY 1 from <a href="http://www.mtzionridgepress.com" target="_blank">Mt Zion Ridge Press</a>.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In paper, ebook, and audiobook.</span></span></p><p></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-1986569445645071242024-01-08T01:00:00.007-05:002024-01-08T01:00:00.133-05:00MUSIC IN THE NIGHT -- excerpt<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxq-2o-kwup23u9r9QilDYrTO6LMq07hmfT6SLoarwGLk4kUkCFF4HkVjoHEZumSo09nggDuWYYltrHxrKkQdN6P-65DHg6xkJ1Tgopnuk1gFxahcWYHZt02RsViiV_6hpm6faAmcbKJiHEKHlatkdJjEpkD69GEhAFS-KC4GxsQkCzxRSP2axcxWP-z4/s2700/MusicNight-PrintCover-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxq-2o-kwup23u9r9QilDYrTO6LMq07hmfT6SLoarwGLk4kUkCFF4HkVjoHEZumSo09nggDuWYYltrHxrKkQdN6P-65DHg6xkJ1Tgopnuk1gFxahcWYHZt02RsViiV_6hpm6faAmcbKJiHEKHlatkdJjEpkD69GEhAFS-KC4GxsQkCzxRSP2axcxWP-z4/s320/MusicNight-PrintCover-001.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Before
she could brace herself to clutch the cross and rose again, the vibrations
stopped and the warmth faded. The wooden sidewalk rippled like waves under her
feet. A more deeply recessed doorway, offering better shelter, was only a dozen
steps further down the side street. She needed to sit down, out of the rain,
just for a few moments. Hunching her shoulders, Carmen staggered down the
sidewalk, aiming for the darkness of the recessed doorway, praying it was dry
and deep enough that she could hide from sight while she regained her balance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
steam-cart trundled down the street from behind her, just as she stepped into
the doorway. A whimper of gratitude escaped her clenched teeth. It was deep and
wide enough she could have laid down in it, and kept her feet dry. She
gratefully sank down into the corner on the right, well out of traffic, if
anyone needed to come out of the door. Tugging her skirts down around her
ankles, she raised her hand to press against the cross.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
steam-cart came into view, framed in the doorway. It was an open steam-cart, a
newer model but without any kind of roof or covering on it. Carmen snorted her
disdain for anyone who thought an open vehicle made any sense in Chicago, with
its wind and seemingly constant rain. The man who drove it hunched his
shoulders, and his eyes were lost in goggles gone white with steam or
condensation. The other man in the cart stood up in the passenger section
behind him, one hand braced on the seat back, the other on the man's shoulder,
and turned his head, surveying the street.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Carmen
paused with her hand just above the cross. She couldn't breathe. Just for a
heartbeat, the man's gaze seemed to lock with hers. Despite the rain streaming
from the flat planes of his chiseled features and darkening his golden hair,
slicking it to his head, she recognized him. That flat, hard line of his mouth,
she knew very well. It was the last expression she saw on his face before he
walked out of her life. Those lips had been as hard as his voice when he castigated
her for the choices she had made. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Just a
few days before those angry words, he had smiled and spoke only sweet words.
Why did she remember his displeasure more clearly? </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Richard Boniface. He had wanted to marry her, and when
her father said no, he had insisted she should run away with him. Carmen
couldn't break her father's heart, even if she had wanted Boniface more than
life itself. Her father had raised her to consider every question and choice
carefully. Carmen had trusted her father's ability to read people more than her
own heart. If he didn't trust Richard as her husband, then neither could she. Richard’s
fury only confirmed her father’s wisdom in saying no. How could she trust her
heart to such a changeable man?</span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570056238944671927.post-2779034420174869882024-01-06T17:53:00.001-05:002024-01-06T17:53:26.360-05:00What's Happening?<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5aBh2qAsBXJoW2lKdT89ULGMHibPmWDs-hhLZYZsKtL10p9YvbO5-24boDvcz73Wsz2niwgl8ikklfuyyCW2C1v9PtdA4n5X6Zf5vzH8rS5hRdMAi-QKRs0vrPLuGyTCmKI7O16X1ZP95HJzCeAvFf3wnJmo-KVWsMg9xrhMCaUyqh_IxMpkS7h_niED/s1800/Report-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5aBh2qAsBXJoW2lKdT89ULGMHibPmWDs-hhLZYZsKtL10p9YvbO5-24boDvcz73Wsz2niwgl8ikklfuyyCW2C1v9PtdA4n5X6Zf5vzH8rS5hRdMAi-QKRs0vrPLuGyTCmKI7O16X1ZP95HJzCeAvFf3wnJmo-KVWsMg9xrhMCaUyqh_IxMpkS7h_niED/w200-h200/Report-001.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Whew! One week into the new year, and lots of projects are progressing forward nicely.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Finished listening to my first audiobook of the year last night: RACE TO THE SUN, by Rebecca Roanhorse. This is my second audiobook by this author, a fun adventure full of Navajo and Native American culture and lore and mythology.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Highly recommended.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm DONE narrating and editing the audiobook for <b>MUSIC IN THE NIGHT,</b> the next book in the <i>Guardians of the Time Stream</i> series. The files have been uploaded for audiobook, ebook and print, and it will be releasing on January 15. <u><a href="http://www.yeoldedragonbooks.com" target="_blank">From Ye Olde Dragon Book</a></u>s.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQdGyITEv4zLKVmEPXoa2bNRPHqvbpP5ReRqrQROemeuaxEE7EYZ47xgBijaL0xOyghtOgSZAnlsm-OBsHsIvWZWSt9HZB5XXzfAntbIblKrf8D2mGTN9K6vgnEg-ZAtLQEOk69MqOoEDsQMhwjJhdt6OHNjkfykSQU0eLbBrJhhi_JT-pQuse6lFCqdl/s2700/MusicNight-PrintCover-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQdGyITEv4zLKVmEPXoa2bNRPHqvbpP5ReRqrQROemeuaxEE7EYZ47xgBijaL0xOyghtOgSZAnlsm-OBsHsIvWZWSt9HZB5XXzfAntbIblKrf8D2mGTN9K6vgnEg-ZAtLQEOk69MqOoEDsQMhwjJhdt6OHNjkfykSQU0eLbBrJhhi_JT-pQuse6lFCqdl/w213-h320/MusicNight-PrintCover-001.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Stay tuned to Facebook and my <i><b>Ye Olde Dragon's Library Patreon</b></i> group or here on the blog, to find out how and when you can get a free ebook of <b>ODESSA FREMONT</b>, the prequel to the series, to celebrate the release of <b>MUSIC.</b> Limited time, and limited numbers ... just saying ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinL1w8dryJe6HD_o67ptG44bkHeNBSX_OGlZnmxvljVwORZ1btuDHJ0p5sRSjxsoLGQRI85pw3NhvgI7I16MspW-7AninhurFSufH8bADNse0LxstddXSZgqKodkEw4LcQaxiK-6-01qSBM2Y6RSFSwLNFV-hKOLChV9lDo9tsRRdx8AweHij6SG5FP1ei/s2550/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinL1w8dryJe6HD_o67ptG44bkHeNBSX_OGlZnmxvljVwORZ1btuDHJ0p5sRSjxsoLGQRI85pw3NhvgI7I16MspW-7AninhurFSufH8bADNse0LxstddXSZgqKodkEw4LcQaxiK-6-01qSBM2Y6RSFSwLNFV-hKOLChV9lDo9tsRRdx8AweHij6SG5FP1ei/s320/Brighten%20Your%20Corner.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Right now I've just started narrating the audiobook for <b>BRIGHTEN YOUR CORNER</b>, the 3rd book in my B<i>ook & Mug Mysteries</i> cozy mystery series, to be published February 1 by <i><u><a href="http://www.mtzionridgepress.com" target="_blank">Mt. Zion Ridge Press.</a></u></i></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Melba and Cilla Tweed, members of the Guzzlers group at Book & Mug coffee shop and bookstore, are finally pursuing their dream of opening up a candle shop. Interference from the former tenant of their space, who insists the shop still belongs to him, and an arrogant con artist cousin .... complicates things. Especially when a dead body shows up, and someone is trying to frame the Tweeds for the murder!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>Michelle Levignehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03789006118926318938noreply@blogger.com0