Favorite Quotes on Books and Reading

"A book is a gift you can open again and again." Garrison Keillor

Literature is a textually transmitted disease, normally contracted in childhood.” Jane Yolen

"It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it." Oscar Wilde

"Books have furnished, burnished, and enabled my life." Julia Keller

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Book Showcase: THE ESCAPE ROOM by Megan Goldin



The Escape Room by Megan Goldin
ISBN: 9781250219657 (hardcover)
ISBN: 9781250219671 (ebook)
ISBN: 9781250221520 (audiobook)
ASIN: B07J4LQFK5 (Kindle edition)
Publisher:  St. Martin's Press
Release Date: July 30, 2019


Welcome to the escape room. Your goal is simple. Get out alive.

In the lucrative world of finance, Vincent, Jules, Sylvie, and Sam are at the top of their game. They've mastered the art of the deal and celebrate their success in style—but a life of extreme luxury always comes at a cost.

Invited to participate in an escape room as a team-building exercise, the ferociously competitive co-workers crowd into the elevator of a high rise building, eager to prove themselves. But when the lights go off and the doors stay shut, it quickly becomes clear that this is no ordinary competition: they're caught in a dangerous game of survival.

Trapped in the dark, the colleagues must put aside their bitter rivalries and work together to solve cryptic clues to break free. But as the game begins to reveal the team's darkest secrets, they realize there's a price to be paid for the terrible deeds they committed in their ruthless climb up the corporate ladder. As tempers fray, and the clues turn deadly, they must solve one final chilling puzzle: which one of them will kill in order to survive?




Purchase Links:  IndieBound  |  Amazon  |  Amazon Audiobook  |  Amazon Kindle  |  Audiobooks.com  |  Barnes and Noble  |  B&N Audiobook  |    B&N Nook  |  BookDepository  |  Books-A-Million  |  Downpour Audiobook  |  eBooks  |    Kobo eBook  |  Kobo Audiobook



Read an Excerpt

PROLOGUE


It was Miguel who called 911 at 4:07 a.m. on an icy Sunday morning.
The young security guard spoke in an unsteady voice, fear disguised by cocky nonchalance.
Miguel had been an aspiring bodybuilder until he injured his back lifting boxes in a warehouse job and had to take night-shift work guarding a luxury office tower in the final stages of construction. He had a muscular physique, dark hair, and a cleft in his chin.
He was conducting a cursory inspection when a scream rang out. At first, he didn't hear a thing. Hip-hop music blasted through the oversize headphones he wore as he swept his flashlight across the dark recesses of the lobby.
The beam flicked across the classical faces of reproduction Greek busts cast in metal and inset into niches in the walls. They evoked an eerie otherworldliness, which gave the place the aura of a mausoleum.Miguel paused his music to search for a fresh play list of songs. It was then that he heard the tail end of a muffled scream.
The sound was so unexpected that he instinctively froze. It wasn't the first time he'd heard strange noises at night, whether it was the screech of tomcats brawling or the whine of construction cranes buffeted by wind. Silence followed. Miguel chided himself for his childish reaction.
He pressed PLAY to listen to a new song and was immediately assaulted by the explosive beat of a tune doing the rounds at the dance clubs where he hung out with friends.
Still, something in the screech he'd heard a moment before rattled him enough for him to be extra diligent.
He bent down to check the lock of the revolving lobby door. It was bolted shut. He swept the flashlight across a pair of still escalators and then, above his head, across the glass-walled mezzanine floor that overlooked the lobby.
He checked behind the long reception desk of blond oak slats and noticed that a black chair was at an odd angle, as if someone had left in a hurry.
A stepladder was propped against a wall where the lobby café was being set up alongside a water fountain that was not yet functional. Plastic-wrapped café tables and chairs were piled up alongside it.
In the far corner, he shone his flashlight in the direction of an elaborate model of the building complex shown to prospective tenants by Realtors rushing to achieve occupancy targets in time for the building's opening the following month.


The model detailed an ambitious master plan to turn an abandoned ware house district that had been a magnet for homeless people and addicts into a high-end financial and shopping precinct. The first tower was almost finished. A second was halfway through construction.
When Miguel turned around to face the elevator lobby, he was struck by something so incongruent that he pushed his headphones off his head and onto his shoulders.
The backlit green fluorescent light of an elevator switch flickered in the dark. It suggested that an elevator was in use. That was impossible, because he was the only person there.
In the sobriety of the silent echo that followed, he convinced himself once again that his vague sense of unease was the hallucination of a fatigued mind. There was nobody in the elevator for the simple reason that the only people on-site on weekends were the securityguards. Two per shift. Except to night, Miguel was the only one on duty.
When Stu had been a no-show for his shift, Miguel figured he'd manage alone. The construction site was fenced off with towering barbed-wire fences and a heavy-duty electric gate. Nobody came in or out until the shift ended.
In the four months he'd worked there, the only intruders he'd encountered were feral cats and rats scampering across construction equipment in the middle of the night. Nothing ever happened during the night shift.
That was what he liked about the job. He was able to study and sleep and still get paid. Sometimes he'd sleep for a couple of hours on the soft leather lobby sofa, which he found preferable to the lumpy stretcher in the portable office where the guards took turns restingbetween patrols. The CCTV cameras hadn't been hooked up yet, so he could still get away with it.
From the main access road, the complex looked completed. It had a driveway entry lined with young maples in planter boxes. The lobby had been fitted out and furnished to impress prospective tenants who came to view office space.
The second tower, facing the East River, looked unmistakably like a construction site. It was wrapped with scaffolding. Shipping containers storing building materials were arranged like colorful Lego blocks in a muddy field alongside idle bulldozers and a crane.
Miguel removed keys from his belt to open the side entrance to let himself out, when he heard a loud crack. It whipped through the lobby with an intensity that made his ears ring.
Two more cracks followed. They were unmistakably the sound of gunshots. He hit the ground and called 911. He was terrified the shooter was making his way to the lobby but cocky enough to cover his fear with bravado when he spoke.
"Something bad's going down here." He gave the 911 dispatcher the address. "You should get cops over here."
Miguel figured from the skepticism in the dispatcher's cool voice that his call was being given priority right below the doughnut run.
His heart thumped like a drum as he waited for the cops to arrive. You chicken shit, he berated himself as he took cover behind a sofa. He exhaled into his shirt to muffle the sound of his rapid breathing. He was afraid he would give away his position to the shooter.
A wave of relief washed over him when the lobby finally lit up with a hazy blue strobe as a police car pulled in at the taxi stand. Miguel went outside to meet the cops.
"What's going on?" An older cop with a thick gut hanging over his belted pants emerged from the front passenger seat.
"Beats me," said Miguel. "I heard a scream. Inside the building. Then I heard what I'm pretty sure were gunshots."
"How many shots?" A younger cop came around the car to meet him, snapping a wad of gum in his mouth.
"Two, maybe three shots. Then nothing."
"Is anyone else around?" The older cop's expression was hidden under a thick gray mustache.
"They clear out the site on Friday night. No construction workers. No nobody. Except me. I'm the night guard."
"Then what makes you think there's a shooter?"
"I heard a loud crack. Sure sounded like a gunshot. Then two more. Came from somewhere up in the tower."
"Maybe construction equipment fell? That possible?"
A faint thread of red suffused Miguel's face as he contemplated the possibility that he'd panicked over nothing. They moved into the lobby to check things out, but he was feeling less confident than when he'd called 911. "I'm pretty sure they—" He stopped speaking as theyall heard the unmistakable sound of a descending elevator.
"I thought you said there was nobody here," said the older cop.
"There isn't."
"Could have fooled me," said the second cop. They moved through to the elevator lobby. A light above the elevator doors was flashing to indicate an elevator's imminent arrival. "Someone's here."
"The building opens for business in a few weeks," said Miguel.
"Nobody's supposed to be here."
The cops drew their guns from their holsters and stood in front of the elevator doors in a shooting stance— slightly crouched, legs apart. One of the cops gestured furiously for Miguel to move out of the way. Miguel stepped back. He hovered near an abstract metal sculptureset into the wall at the dead end of the elevator lobby.
A bell chimed. The elevator heaved as it arrived.
The doors parted with a slow hiss. Miguel swallowed hard as the gap widened. He strained to see what was going on. The cops were blocking his line of sight and he was at too sharp an angle to see much.
"Police," shouted both cops in unison. "Put your weapon down."
Miguel instinctively pressed himself against the wall. He flinched as the first round of bullets was fired. There were too many shots to count. His ears rang so badly, it took him a moment to realize the police had stopped firing. They'd lowered their weapons and were shouting something. He didn't know what. He couldn't hear a thing over the ringing in his ears.
Miguel saw the younger cop talk into his radio. The cop's mouth opened and closed. Miguel couldn't make out the words. Gradually, his hearing returned and he heard the tail end of a stream of NYPD jargon.
He couldn't understand most of what was said. Something about "nonresponsive" and needing "a bus," which he assumed meant an ambulance. Miguel watched a trickle of blood run along the marble floor until it formed a puddle. He edged closer. He glimpsed blood splatter on the wall of the elevator. He took one more step. Finally, he could see inside the elevator. He immediately regretted it. He'd never seen so much blood in all his life.

ONE
THE ELEVATOR

Thirty-four Hours Earlier
Vincent was the last to arrive. His dark overcoat flared behind him as he strode through the lobby. The other three were standing in an informal huddle by a leather sofa. They didn't notice Vincent come in. They were on their phones, with their backs to the entrance, preoccupied with emails and silent contemplation as to why they had been called to a last-minute meeting on a Friday night at an out-of-the-way office building in the South Bronx.
Vincent observed them from a distance as he walked across the lobby toward them. Over the years, the four of them had spent more time together than apart. Vincent knew them almost better than he knew himself. He knew their secrets, and their lies. There were times when he could honestly say that he'd never despised anyone more than these three people. He suspected they all shared the sentiment. Yet they needed one another. Their fates had been joined together long before.
Sylvie's face bore its usual expression, a few degrees short of a resting-bitch face. With her cover-girl looks and dark blond hair pinned in a topknot that drew attention to her green eyes, Sylvie looked like the catwalk model that she'd been when she was a teenager. She was irritated by being called to an unscheduled meeting when she had to pack for Paris, but she didn't let it show on her face. She studiously kept a faint upward tilt to her lips. It was a practice drummed into her over many years working in a male-dominated profession. Men could snarl or look angry with impunity; women had to smile serenely regardless of the provocation.
To her right stood Sam, wearing a charcoal suit with a white shirt and a black tie. His stubble matched the dark blond of his closely cropped hair. His jaw twitched from the knot of anxiety in his guts. He'd felt stabbing pains ever since his wife, Kim, telephoned during the drive over. She was furious that he wouldn't make the flight to Antigua because he was attending an unscheduled meeting. She hated the fact that his work always took precedence over her and the girls.
Jules stood slightly away from the other two, sucking on a peppermint candy to disguise the alcohol on his breath. He wore a suave burgundy-and-navy silk tie that made his Gypsy eyes burn with intensity. His dark hair was brushed back in the style of a fifties movie star. He usually drank vodka because it was odorless and didn't make his face flush, but now his cheeks were ruddy in a tell-tale sign he'd been drinking. The minibar in his chauffeured car was out of vodka, so he'd had to make do with whiskey on the ride over. The empty bottles were still rattling around in his briefcase.
As they waited for their meeting, they all had the same paranoid notion that they'd been brought to a satellite office to be retrenched. Their careers would be assassinated silently, away from the watercooler gossips at the head office.
It was how they would have done it if the positions were reversed. A Friday-evening meeting at an out-of-the-way office, concluding with a retrenchment package and a nondisclosure agreement signed and sealed.
The firm was considering unprecedented layoffs, and they were acutely aware they had red targets on their backs. They said none of this to one another. They kept their eyes downcast as they worked on their phones, unaware they were the only ones in the lobby. Just as they hadn't paid much mind to the cranes and construction fencing on their way in.
Sam checked his bank account while he waited. The negative balance made him queasy. He'd wiped out all the cash in his account that morning paying Kim's credit-card bill. If he lost his job, then the floodgates would open. He could survive two to three months without work; after that, he'd have to sell assets. That alone would destroy him financially. He was leveraged to the hilt. Some of his assets were worth less now than when he'd bought them.
The last time Sam had received a credit-card bill that huge, he'd immediately lowered Kim's credit limit. Kim found out when her payment for an eleven-thousand-dollar Hermès handbag was rejected at the Madison Avenue store in front of her friends. She was mortified. They had a huge blowup that night, and he reluctantly restored her credit limit. Now he paid all her bills without a word of complaint. Even if it meant taking out bridging loans. Even if it meant constantly feeling on the verge of a heart attack.
Sam knew that Kim spent money as much for attention as out of boredom. She complained that Sam was never around to help with the twins. He'd had to point out that they'd hired a maid to give her all the help she needed. Three maids, to be truthful. Three within the space of two years. The third had walked out in tears a week ago due to Kim's erratic temper.
Kim was never satisfied with anything. If Sam gave Kim a platinum necklace, she wanted it in gold. If he took her to London, she wanted Paris. If he bought her a BMW, she wanted a Porsche.
Satisfying her unceasing demands was doable when his job prospects were good, but the firm had lost a major account, and since Christmas word had spread of an impending restructure. Everyone knew that was a euphemism for layoffs.
Sam never doubted that Kim would leave him if he couldn't support her lifestyle anymore. She'd demand full custody of the girls and she'd raise them to hate him. Kim forgave most of his transgressions, she could even live with his infidelities, but she never forgave failure.It was Sam who first heard the footsteps sounding through the vast lobby. The long, hurried strides of a man running late to a meeting. Sam swung around as their boss arrived. Vincent's square jaw was tight and his broad shoulders were tense as he joined them without saying a word.
"You almost didn't make it," observed Sylvie.
"The traffic was terrible." Vincent ran his hand over his overcoat pocket in the habit of a man who had recently stopped smoking. Instead of cigarettes, he took out a pair of glasses, which he put on to examine the message on his phone. "Are you all aware of the purpose of this meeting?"
"The email invite from HR wasn't exactly brimming with information," said Sam. "You said in your text message it was compulsory for us to attend. That it took precedence over everything else. Well, we're all here. So maybe now you can enlighten us, Vincent. What's so important that I had to delay my trip to Antigua?"
"Who here has done an escape-room challenge before?" Vincent asked.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sam said. "I abandoned my wife on her dream vacation to participate in a team-building activity! This is bullshit, Vincent. It's goddamn bullshit and you know it."

"It will take an hour," said Vincent calmly. "Next Friday is bonus day. I'm sure that we all agree that it's smart to be on our best behavior before bonus day, especially in the current climate."
"Let's do it," said Sylvie, sighing. Her flight to Paris was at midnight. She still had plenty of time to get home and pack. Vincent led them to a brightly lit elevator with its doors wide open. Inside were mirrored walls and an alabaster marble floor.
They stepped inside. The steel doors shut behind them before they could turn around.

TWO
SARA HALL

It's remarkable what a Windsor knot divulges about a man. Richie's Italian silk tie was a brash shade of red, with thin gold stripes running on a diagonal. It was the tie of a man whose arrogance was dwarfed only by his ego.
In truth, I didn't need to look at his tie to know that Richie was a douche. The dead giveaway was that when I entered the interview room, a nervous smile on my pink matte painted lips, he didn't bother to greet me. Or even to stand up from the leather chair where he sat and surveyed me as I entered the room.
While I categorized Richie as a first-class creep the moment I set eyes on him, I was acutely aware that I needed to impress him if I was to have any chance of getting the job. I introduced myself and reached out confidently to shake his hand. He shook my hand with a grip that was tighter than necessary—a reminder, perhaps, that he could crush my career aspirations as easily as he could break the bones in my delicate hand.
He introduced himself as Richard Worthington. The third, if you don't mind. He had a two-hundred-dollar haircut, a custom shave, and hands that were softer than butter. He was in his late twenties, around five years older than I was.
When we were done shaking hands, Richie leaned back in his chair and surveyed me with a touch of amusement as I settled into my seat across the table.
"You can take off your jacket and relax," he said. "We try to keep interviews informal here."
I took off my jacket and left it folded over the back of the chair next to me as I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Did he see a struggling business-school graduate with a newly minted MBA that didn't appear to be worth the paper it was written on? Or was he perceptive enough to see an intelligent, accomplished young woman? Glossy brown hair cut to a professional shoulder length, serious gray eyes, wearing a brand-new designer suit she couldn't afford and borrowed Louboutin shoes that were a half size too small and pinched her toes.
I took a deep breath and tried to project the poise and confidence necessary to show him that I was the best candidate. Finally I had a chance at getting my dream job on Wall Street. I would do everything that I could humanly do not to screw it up.
Richie wore a dark gray suit with a fitted white shirt. His cuff links were Hermès, arranged so that the H insignia was clearly visible. On his wrist was an Audemars Piguet watch, a thirty-grand piece that told everyone who cared that he was the very model of a Wall Street player.
Richie left me on the edge of my seat, waiting awkwardly, as he read over my résumé. Paper rustled as he scanned the neatly formatted sheets that summed up my life in two pages. I had the impression that he was looking at it for the first time. When he was done, he examined me over the top of the pages with the lascivious expression of a john sizing up girls at a Nevada whorehouse.

Excerpt from The Escape Room by Megan Goldin reprinted with permission from the publisher. 
Copyright © 2019 by Megan Goldin. All Rights Reserved.



Meet the Author


Megan Goldin is the bestselling author of The Escape Room, praised by Lee Child as "one of my favorite books of the year", as well as The Girl In Kellers Way, a critically-acclaimed domestic noir thriller nominated for Australia's leading crime fiction awards.


Megan worked as a journalist for Reuters, the Australian ABC and Yahoo! News before writing her debut psychological thriller The Girl In Kellers Way


Connect with the author via her website, Twitter, Facebook, or Goodreads

Saturday, July 27, 2019

Book Showcase: AN EYE FOR A LIE by Cy Wyss

An Eye For A Lie by Cy Wyss Banner

An Eye for a Lie

by Cy Wyss

on Tour May 27 - July 27, 2019



Synopsis:


An Eye for a Lie by Cy Wyss


Lukas Richter is a San Francisco police detective with a cybernetic eye and heightened senses. He can detect the same autonomous responses as a polygraph machine, so he has a leg up in determining guilt.

In An Eye for a Lie, his first full-length novel, Richter is accused of murder and the evidence seems incontrovertible, including a bullet that was somehow fired from his gun when he claims he was nowhere near the crime scene. In the background, San Francisco is aflame over Richter's shooting of an unarmed Asian man, an incident some are calling "the Asian Ferguson."

Can Inspector Richter convince a plucky and suspicious FBI agent of his innocence in the face of overwhelming accusations and public persecution?



Book Details:


Genre: Mystery
Published by: Nighttime Dog Press, LLC
Publication Date: May 27, 2019
Number of Pages: 258
ISBN: 978-0-9965465-3-9
Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads



Read an excerpt:



"All units, active shooter in progress, be advised perp is SFPD..."
The police frequencies in Vessa's sedan couldn't get enough of the situation. She was hardly in her car before the address where Richter was came over the air. She headed there immediately, lights flashing, accelerator floored.
He was in a townhouse on ninth, near Tehama, only a handful of blocks from the Hall of Justice. The entire area was cordoned off and blanketed with police cars. Vessa badged her way through and got to Commander Bayes who stood with Deputy Chief Forrest several yards from the front door. The townhouse was painted lime green and the entrance stood ajar.
"Commander, what's the situation?" Vessa asked.
"He's holed up in there," Bayes shook his head toward the house. "Got a hostage."
"A hostage? You're kidding."
"Wish I was. Teenage girl, still up there. He let the rest of the family go."
Now, Bayes shook his head a different way, indicating Vessa should look near one of the ambulances. There was a man and a woman, firmly behind police lines. Both were slender with brown hair and the woman wore a red sweater. She was crying and the man and a paramedic were trying to comfort her.
"Commander, none of this makes sense. Can you imagine Richter taking a hostage? It doesn't feel right."
"C'mon, Agent Drake," Bayes said. "None of us can say we really know him now."
Vessa frowned up at the building. Between her and the front door lay perhaps twenty feet of tarmac and parked cars. Bayes turned to Forrest and they conferred. Before Vessa even knew what she was doing, she was off --crossing the street at a sprint.
"Hey!" Bayes yelled.
Forrest pointed. "Stop her!"
It was too late. She broke away from the lines and was at the door before anyone could grab her. She pushed the dark portal open and slipped inside, shutting it behind her, closing it fully so it locked. Inside, it took a couple of minutes for her eyes to adjust to the pale strobe lights coming through the front blinds and door windows. She was in an open living room. It was small and closely furnished with a dining room capping it off near the back of the building. She guessed the kitchen would be around the corner. To her right, a staircase led upward. The landing was dark.
Vessa had taken her gun out without consciously realizing it. Now, she stared at it in the undulating red and blue lights. What was she going to do with it? Shoot her lover when she found him?
She holstered the gun. "Oh, Luke," she said softly. As if in answer, something moved above her, making a dull thud on the floor. She startled.
Slowly, she made her way up the stairs. "Luke?" she called. "I'm coming upstairs."
There was no answer. At the top of the stairs were three doors. Two were dark and closed. Wan light traced the outline of the third door. She opened it cautiously.
"Luke?"
The door creaked on its hinges to reveal a seemingly empty bedroom. The air was stale although the room was tidy and sparsely furnished with a queen-sized bed and two nightstands. The fluorescent lights from the street diffused around the edges of a thick curtain drawn across a large window. The occluded light wasn't strong enough to dispel the rooms shadows.
"Luke?" Vessa noticed she was whispering. She cleared her throat and spoke with as normal a voice as she could muster. "Luke? Where are you?"
"Here," came a reply.
She was practically on top of him by that time. He sat with his back to a wall across from the foot of the bed.
Vessa jumped. "Oh! You startled me."
He was staring at her. She half expected his evil eye to glow in the dimness but instead, she saw only normal dark eyes glittering from his outlined face. He sat with his knees bent and his arms resting between his legs. In his hands was a mass of blackness-his gun. That ugly piece of metal was a cursed reminder of what was going on and why they were here, facing each other in this shadowed space.
Vessa craned her neck around but didn't see anyone else. "Where's the girl?"
Richter watched Vessa intently for several seconds before answering. "The couple's outside. I let them go."
"No, apparently there's still a teenager in here somewhere."
Richter's gaze dropped to the carpet in front of him. "That would explain why it's just you and not SWAT. They think I have a hostage. Well, I don't."
"You have me."
His head snapped up. "You're not a hostage. Why are you here, anyway?"
"I'm here to get you. I don't want them gunning you down."
"You're here to arrest me, Special Agent Vessa Belle Drake?"
"Oh, Luke. We'll figure this out."
Richter brought the gun up in his right hand and pressed it to the underside of his chin, angled back toward his brain.
Vessa gasped. "No!" She was rooted to the spot, eyes wide.
He stared at her. "I guess whether I do it or SWAT does it, it's still death by cop."
Tears burned her eyes. "No, Luke. No. Why would you even think it? There must be some mistake. There must be some reason why those bullets matched."
"I won't be locked up. I won't be put back in the cage and poked and prodded, and studied to death this time."
Vessa remembered the shaking man sweating beside her in his bed at night. Even though he didn't speak of them, she knew he was having nightmares. Was it possible he was actually capable of pulling that trigger? Her chin throbbed where he'd bitten her. She couldn't stand this. How could she have been so wrong? She was never wrong. She swallowed. Never before had she fallen for a guilty man. How was she so blinded by hubris that she could feel this way about Richter when he was a merciless killer?
He stared at her, gun in his hand. He didn't move. She shook slightly with the emotions flooding her. Here she was, at the cusp of what she felt was the most important moment in her life. The man she loved sat before her, ready to take his own life if she didn't do or say the right thing next. She was paralyzed-absolutely paralyzed. All her training, and here she was, a shaking, paralyzed ball of nerves.
She burst into tears. How utterly professional.
Richter frowned.
Vessa's nose and eyes ran uncontrollably and she heaved great sighs. She didn't dare wave her arms around and wipe her face. Instead, she simply stood there and let her emotions pour down her cheeks.
Richter sighed. He lowered the gun. He dropped it with a thud to the carpet and kicked it toward her.
"How am I supposed to kill myself with you crying like that?"
She rushed to pick up the weapon and tucked it into the small of her back, under her blazer. She faced Richter, this time allowing herself to wipe the fluids from her face with her hands and sleeves. She could only imagine how many shades of fired she would be if Bully Benson had seen her outburst. She almost felt like declaring herself unfit for duty on the spot.
"I can't stand it," she said. "I can't lose you this way."
He said nothing. What was there to say? They stared at each other. Tears fell from her eyes until the momentum of her outburst ran its course and she finally managed to get a grip on herself.
Richter sat, inordinately relaxed, leaning against the wall, hands folded innocently between his legs.
"What now?" he asked.
She glanced toward the thick curtains shielding them from the snipers across the street.
"I'll have to cuff you. Then you won't be seen as a threat. Keep your head down, and I'll stay between you and them."
He craned his neck and looked over the bed toward the window. He watched the dark cloth for several seconds.
"Is your eye working? What do you see?"
"It's working," he said. "And, I see only reflections. Your temperature is up, though."
She came over and stood beside him. "Stay low," she said softly.
He got up and they crossed the room with him crouched low. They entered the windowless landing. Vessa closed the bedroom door behind them. She looked at the other two doors. The girl was probably behind one of them, asleep or with her headphones on, completely oblivious. Vessa pulled her cuffs out. Richter stood tall.
"All right?" she asked. She needed him to cooperate. She wasn't about to subdue such a large man in such a small space.
"Just a second," he said.
He bent and kissed her. They embraced. Vessa wanted the floor to open up and swallow them so they could stay like this forever. Of course it did not, and the moment had to end.
He straightened up again, turned his back to her, and extended his arms behind him so she could easily cuff him.
"I didn't shoot him," he said.
Before she could even think about it, Vessa responded.
"I know. I believe you."
***
Excerpt from An Eye for a Lie by Cy Wyss.  Copyright 2019 by Cy Wyss. Reproduced with permission from Cy Wyss. All rights reserved.


Author Bio:


Cy Wyss
Cy Wyss is a writer based in Indianapolis, Indiana. She has a Ph.D. in computer science and her day job involves wrangling and analyzing genetic data. Cy is the author of three full-length novels as well as a collection of short stories and the owner and chief editor of Nighttime Dog Press, LLC.

Before studying computer science, Cy obtained her undergraduate degree in mathematics and English literature as well as masters-level degrees in philosophy and artificial intelligence. She studied overseas for three years in the UK, although she never managed to develop a British accent.

Cy currently resides in Indianapolis with her husband, daughter, and two obstreperous but lovable felines. In addition to writing, she enjoys reading, cooking, and walking 5k races to benefit charity.

Catch Up With Cy Wyss On:


cywyss.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Twitter, & Facebook!


Tour Participants:


Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!





Enter To Win!:



This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Cy Wyss. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on May 27, 2019, and runs through July 29, 2019. Void where prohibited.

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Friday, July 26, 2019

2019 Book 225: NEVER HAVE I EVER by Joshilyn Jackson

Never Have I Ever by Joshilyn Jackson 
ISBN: 9780062855312 (hardcover)
ISBN: 9780062855336 (ebook)
ISBN: 9780062855336 (audiobook)
ASIN: B07DTC3MTW (Kindle edition)
Publication date: July 30, 2019 
Publisher: William Morrow


In this game, even winning can be deadly...


Amy Whey is proud of her ordinary life and the simple pleasures that come with it—teaching diving lessons, baking cookies for new neighbors, helping her best friend, Charlotte, run their local book club. Her greatest joy is her family: her devoted professor husband, her spirited fifteen-year-old stepdaughter, her adorable infant son. And, of course, the steadfast and supportive Charlotte. But Amy's sweet, uncomplicated life begins to unravel when the mysterious and alluring Angelica Roux arrives on her doorstep one book club night.

Sultry and magnetic, Roux beguiles the group with her feral charm. She keeps the wine flowing and lures them into a game of spilling secrets. Everyone thinks it's naughty, harmless fun. Only Amy knows better. Something wicked has come her way—a she-devil in a pricey red sports car who seems to know the terrible truth about who she is and what she once did.

When they're alone, Roux tells her that if she doesn't give her what she asks for, what she deserves, she's going to make Amy pay for her sins. One way or another.

To protect herself and her family and save the life she's built, Amy must beat the devil at her own clever game, matching wits with Roux in an escalating war of hidden pasts and unearthed secrets. Amy knows the consequences if she can't beat Roux. What terrifies her is everything she could lose if she wins.

A diabolically entertaining tale of betrayal, deception, temptation, and love-filled with dark twists leavened by Joshilyn Jackson's trademark humor, Never Have I Ever explores what happens when the transgressions of our past come back with a vengeance.



Purchase Links:  IndieBound  |  Amazon  |  Amazon Kindle  |  Audible  |  Barnes and Noble  |  B&N Audiobook  |  B&N Nook  |  BookDepository  |  Books-A-Million  |  Downpour Audiobook  |  eBooks  |  Kobo eBook  |  Kobo Audiobook


Amy Whey is a happily married woman with a teenage stepdaughter and infant son. She loves her family and her life. It has taken Amy a long time to get to a point in her life where she feels happy with who and where she is in life. Amy was involved in a car accident as a teenager that took the life of a neighbor that she babysat for and destroyed a family. Her mother never forgave her for being the reason their family had to uproot their Florida roots and relocate to Massachusetts during her beloved older brother's senior year of high school. Amy never forgave herself for not standing up for her best friend, Tig, immediately after the accident. It took years for Amy to forgive herself and get her life on an even keel and now she's back in Florida and quite happy until Angelica Roux shows up and seems intent on destroying the calm and sisterhood in the neighborhood as well as Amy's liberty. Blackmail isn't pretty, but can Amy pay Roux the money she's demanding and be assured that will be the end of it? The bigger question seems to be just who has more to lose and can you ever be free from your past? Who has more to protect and gain? How far is too far when it comes to protecting your freedom, your family, and your friends?

I think I've probably read everything that Joshilyn Jackson has written and I definitely have my favorites (The Almost Sisters ranks at the top at the moment although I may have a new favorite). Never Have I Ever is a bit different from most of the books written by Ms. Jackson as this is her first suspense thriller and let me tell you she's not playing around with this one. This story has plenty of twists and turns in it that kept me guessing until the very end, especially when it came to Roux (no, I'm not going to reveal the secrets — read the book to find out for yourself!). Every time I thought I knew where the story was going, you guessed it, plot twist. I loved the fact that I couldn't quite figure out where the story was going on. I knew Roux was a bad girl, but there were a few times when I felt sympathy for her (that didn't last long). I really liked Amy, her husband Davis, her stepdaughter Madison aka Maddy or Mads, Amy's friend Charlotte or Char, and Tighler "Tig" Simms, and baby Oliver. I loved the introduction of Amy's backstory in bits and pieces because it felt as if I was putting together a puzzle along with the contemporary storylines. I enjoyed the friendship between Amy and Char, as well as the interactions between Amy and her family. There's a lot going on in this story, but it all works and works quite well. There are surprises throughout the story as well as a surprise ending (again, no I'm not telling you what the surprise is, read the book!) and I don't think it could have ended any other way. I'm hardpressed to find anything about this story that I didn't like especially the themes of family, friendship, expiation for past mistakes, forgiveness, and guilt. If you've ever read anything by Ms. Jackson in the past, then you'll definitely want to grab a copy of Never Have I Ever to read. If you're into suspense-thrillers and haven't read anything by this author, then I strongly encourage you to get a copy of Never Have I Ever to read. I'll be putting my copy of Never Have I Ever on the shelf for a few weeks before I re-read it (yes, it was just that good!). Happy Reading, y'all!

Disclaimer: I received a free digital review copy from the publisher via Edelweiss+ and a free print review copy from the publisher via LibraryThing Early Reviewers' Program. I was not paid, required, or otherwise obligated to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Thursday, July 25, 2019

Book Spotlight: Oceanic Dreams Series - Take Two




Good day, my bookish peeps. It's time to reboard the Oceanic Aphrodite and cruise along with the Oceanic Dreams series in eight novellas. As previously noted, the Oceanic Dreams series is a multi-author series and each book can be read on its own. Each book focuses on an individual couple and these eight unsuspecting couples just might find true love on the high seas. 


I Saw Him Standing There by Holly Kerr 
Time of My Life by Laura Heffernan 
Circle in the Sand by Tracy Krimmer 
I Thought it Was You by Kirsty McManus 
I Will Follow Him by Holly Tierney-Bedord 
Take a Chance on Me by Delancey Stewart 
Shut Up and Dance With Me by Monique McDonell 
The Best of You by Sophie-Leigh Robbins

Watch the trailer for the Oceanic Dreams series here.


Today we're going to cruise along with the last four books in this series and make note of this week's giveaway. All aboard the Oceanic Aphrodite!




I Will Follow Him Oceanic Dreams #5 by Holly Tierney-Bedord
ISBN: 9781099133145 (paperback)
ASIN: B07QVB2XS7 (Kindle edition)
Release Date: July 15, 2019



A bachelor party on a cruise ship. What could go wrong?

When private detective Francie is hired to spy on a groom-to-be as he and his bachelor party set sail for the Caribbean, she thinks she's landed herself a week of paid vacation. Between lounging in the sun and sipping margaritas, she just needs to—best-case scenario—report back that he's on the up and up, or—the unfortunate, more likely scenario—snap a few photos of her target in compromising positions, buy a box of sympathy chocolates for her client, and then collect her pay along with a nice golden suntan.

Blame it on the island breezes or the alcohol, but within hours of setting sail, Francie's leisurely vacation gets complicated when she starts making careless mistakes. Like accidentally becoming friends with the groom and falling for his best man.

Can she get herself and her mission back on track, or has she blown her cover and possibly even her career?






Purchase Links:  Amazon  |  Amazon Kindle      


Meet the author



Holly Tierney-Bedord is the author of over a dozen novels and novellas, including Sweet Hollow Women, Surviving Valencia, Right Under Your Nose, Bellamy's Redemption, and Murder at Mistletoe Manor. She is also the creator of mid-century dollhouse flipping blog www.flipthisminihouse.com and the author of several dollhouse and miniature how-to books. She lives in Madison, Wisconsin.



Connect with the author via her website, Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, and Goodreads


Giveaway:


Enter to win one (1) of Kindle copy or one (1) print copy of I Will Follow Him by Holly Tierney-Bedord courtesy of the author. There will be two separate winners chosen in this giveaway. This giveaway is open to residents of the United States only. The books will be provided to the winners by the Book Diva's Reads after the giveaway has ended. To enter please use the Rafflecopter form below. Void where prohibited by law. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway








Take a Chance On Me Oceanic Dreams #6 by Delancey Stewart
ISBN: 9781081677763 (paperback)
ASIN: B07RN8LJ9Z (Kindle edition)
Release Date: July 29, 2019



He was the man of her dreams and their lives were all planned out—until he disappeared without explanation. Only to reappear on the decks of the Oceanic Aphrodite six years later. 

Selena Spark has a plan for her life. It's a new plan, one she devised after her previous plans—the ones she made with her college boyfriend and supposed future husband and business partner fell through—but it's a good plan. 

Step One: Put eyes on the resort Oceanic has built with her company on Grand Cayman, and determine if it is up to her company's high standards. 
Step Two: If it is, score the management position at that resort. 
Step Three: Move to Grand Cayman for her dream job and live happily ever after in paradise. 

But you know what they say about plans. 

And when her sister is left at the altar just before the cruise sails and needs consoling, Selena decides to bring her along. But when Lincoln Addis turns out to be the activities director aboard the Aphrodite, and when he is assigned to oversee her Oceanic experience and confesses that he's also in the running for the resort management gig? And when she realizes she still loves him, and he's never stopped loving her? 

Selena may have to make some new plans. 

Take a Chance on Me is a light-hearted second-chance romance set in the sun and sand of the Caribbean. The perfect beach read! 





Purchase Links:  Amazon  |  Amazon Kindle      

Meet the author


I'm Delancey Stewart - contemporary romance author! My books run the gamut of settings and setups, but they always deliver humor, heart, and heat. It's a guarantee. 

I write from my home outside Washington DC, where I manage a household full of boys and men. Okay, only one man. The hubs. But two boys. I mean, three if you count the hubs. (You see why I do words and not numbers. I was told there'd be no math in this bio. Someone lied.) 

I grew up in California and have had more jobs than anyone on earth (personal trainer, pharmaceutical rep, copywriter, tech writer, marketing director, wine seller, elementary school teacher... I'm not kidding. The list. It goes on.) But the one I love the most is writing, in part because I get to meet people who love books and stories as much as I do! Please don't hesitate to get in touch to say hello, and don't forget to join my newsletter!


Connect with the author via her website, Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, and Goodreads.  





Shut Up and Dance With Me Oceanic Dreams #7 by Monique McDonell
ASIN: B07SJNB48X (Kindle edition)
Release Date: August 12, 2019



As they set sail for madness and mayhem aboard Oceanic Aphrodite as Sandy and Danny stand up as witnesses to their friends' second marriage. The maid of honor and best man can only agree on two things - this wedding is a bad idea and they can't stand each other. A week on a cruise ship is a long time and hard though they try to avoid each other, the universe has other ideas. All aboard for a fun opposites-attract romance for lovers of cocktails, second chances and happily ever afters.




Purchase Link:  Amazon Kindle       


Meet the author



I am an author of fun, flirty fiction that always has a happy ending. I write contemporary women's fiction including chick lit and romantic comedies. I have released over fifteen novels including the Upper Crust and the Jewel Sisters series.


I am also an avid reader, coffee drinker and wine lover.



Connect with the author via her website, Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, and Goodreads.






The Best of You Oceanic Dreams #8 by Sophie-Leigh Robbins
ASIN: B07SBZTDJT (Kindle edition)
Release Date: August 26, 2019



They may be faking their relationship, but they can't fake the sparks that fly when they're together.

Desperate to get away from her cheating ex, travel vlogger Holly books a last-minute cruise to the Caribbean, even though the only available packages left are part of a singles cruise. Of course, Holly has no intention of participating in any dating activities. The further away she can stay from love, the better.

Then she runs into Noah, who is equally appalled by the idea of dating anyone after being dumped on his wedding day. They immediately bond over their failed love lives and it doesn't take long for them to become friends.

When Noah witnesses another passenger hitting on Holly and refusing to take no for an answer, he volunteers to be her fake boyfriend. But as time passes by, they start to realize they are getting more than what they bargained for.

Will Holly accept what's right in front of her or will she keep running from her dreams? 





Purchase Link:  Amazon Kindle      


Meet the author

Sophie-Leigh Robbins writes romantic comedies. She hopes you'll have as much fun reading her books as she had writing them.

Connect with the author via her website, Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, and Goodreads.




I hope you've enjoyed cruising aboard the Oceanic Aphrodite. I also hope you'll enjoy reading all of the books in this series. Happy Reading!