Archive for the ‘thriller’ Category

Tell Them Goodbye By E. R. Sanchez ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: April 30, 2026 in giveaways, thriller, YA
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Tell Them Goodbye

By E. R. Sanchez

 

(Third Death Series, #1)
Publication date: December 17th 2025
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

16-year-old Sino and his 17-year-old cousin, Martín, run away from their family’s ranch—El Petaco—after witnessing their cousin Adal murder their cousin Javier over Adal’s marijuana business.

Not wanting to be forced into Javier’s job, Sino and Martín plan to run, knowing that Adal will come after them and anyone they tell. Although running away will leave people confused, Sino and Martín agree that leaving will protect both them and their loved ones from Adal’s wrath.

The pair realize the journey ahead of them is going to be rough, so before leaving they hatch a plan that includes stealing two goats, making it to Arteaga, getting on as many buses as it takes, and paying a coyote to smuggle them across the U.S.-Mexico border.

Sino and Martín don’t know much about life in 1970s America due to their sheltered life on El Petaco, but they’ve heard of a potential better life waiting for them in America and assume it’s the only option for freedom. The harrowing path ahead of them has them constantly looking over their shoulders for Adal’s assassins, fighting off robbers who attempt to take what little possessions they have, and weaving their way through Mexico’s class prejudices, violence, and exploitation.

“Tell Them Goodbye” is an unflinching, gritty immigrant story based on true events. It’s more than just a tale about two cousins trying to get to the United States; it’s an offering to all immigrants who only make it as spirits and an offering for humanity’s unstoppable determination to risk everything to accomplish any goal or dream.

Goodreads / Amazon

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About Author E. R. Sanchez:

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E. R. Sanchez is the author of Fried Potato Press’s first full-length novel, Tell Them Goodbye. He also has poems and stories published online and in print.

Goodreads / Facebook / X / Amazon

GIVEAWAY

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Tell Them Goodbye Blitz

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The Kate Preacher Thriller Series By Michael Maloof ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: April 27, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
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The Kate Preacher Thriller Series by Michael Maloof Banner

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THE KATE PREACHER THRILLER SERIES
by Michael Maloof
March 30 – June 5, 2026 Virtual Book Tour
RELENTLESS
Kate Preacher thought she had left the CIA—and that life—behind. She was wrong.

When a devastating terrorist attack rips through Paris, Kate is pulled back into a deadly game she never agreed to play. The attack makes international headlines. Someone wants the truth buried. And the closer Kate gets to it, the clearer one thing becomes: She is no longer just investigating the conspiracy. She is part of it. As powerful enemies close in, Kate becomes the target—hunted by forces that know how to erase anyone who asks the wrong questions. Every answer tightens the noose. Every move brings the cost closer to home. And stopping what’s coming may demand more than she can survive.

Relentless is a ripped-from-the-headlines thriller and the explosive first book in the Kate Preacher Thriller Series. Featuring a fiercely intelligent female lead, white-knuckle action, and emotional stakes that linger long after the final page.

If you like smart, fast-paced thrillers with heart, danger, and a heroine who refuses to break, this is your next late night.
Praise for RELENTLESS:

“I was on edge reading this book. I cried reading this book. I can’t get the characters out of my mind.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“What a Debut! As one who devours books in this genre, I am thrilled to say this one seems more like a bestseller by one of your favorite authors.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Taut and energetic, Relentless lives up to its name in action and suspense. An engrossing first-rate thriller.” ~ DIRK CUSSLER, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author

“Michael Maloof’s RELENTLESS is a heart-pounding thriller that grabs you from the very first page and doesn’t let go until the explosive conclusion.” ~ Ryan Steck, The Real Book Spy and author of OUT FOR BLOOD

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UNSTOPPABLE
Betrayal in Paris. Survival in Africa. The world’s deadliest game has a new player.

Former CIA analyst Kate Preacher returns to Paris searching for answers to the terrorist attack that shattered her world—only to find herself in the crosshairs of a sniper who is always one step ahead. Every move she makes is anticipated. Every escape feels temporary. And the deeper she digs, the clearer it becomes that the conspiracy she uncovered is far larger—and closer—than she ever imagined. ​

When a trusted ally is ambushed and left for dead, Kate realizes she is no longer chasing the enemy.

She is the target.

Her pursuit of the elusive sniper draws her across borders and into Africa’s most dangerous battlegrounds, where warlords, mercenaries, and corrupt powers collide over the fate of a fragile nation. Loyalties shift. Truths fracture. And survival depends on knowing who is lying—before it is too late.

Every enemy hides a secret. Every ally has an agenda. Every move Kate makes risks igniting a firestorm that could topple an emerging democracy.

With seconds to spare and a sniper locked on target, Kate faces an impossible choice—risk everything to stop what’s coming or walk away and let a nation fall.

Unstoppable is the pulse-pounding sequel to Relentless—a globe-spanning thriller of betrayal, survival, and high-stakes deception.

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This is where Kate learns how far her enemies will go. And how much it will cost to stop them.
Praise for UNSTOPPABLE:

“Wow, what a sequel to Relentless! Non-stop action and plenty of unexpected plot twists.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“This thrilling and intricate follow-up to the series debut will keep readers glued to their seats and begging for more!” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“The plot is fast-paced as the story hits the ground running, and the action and intrigue are unrelenting and non-stop. Dangerous secrets, hints of unknown agendas, and shocking plot twists kept me on the edge of my seat as Kate got ever closer to her goal, and those working against her tried to stop her or, at a minimum, manage her discoveries and limit the consequences.” ~ Karen Siddall, for Reedsy Discovery

“The Kate Preacher Thriller Series has everything fans of this genre expect: genuinely compelling characters, a solid fast-paced storyline, unexpected twists, bad politicians, and some seriously high stakes. There may even be a touch of the paranormal, as a Maasai named Nuru and a prowling lion leave their marks.” ~ Reviewed by Terri Stepek for Reader Views

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DEFIANT
A Funeral in Paris. A Reckoning in Russia. An Endgame in Davos.

Former CIA analyst Kate Preacher has tracked the cabal that shattered her world across continents—but only now does she glimpse the true enemy behind the curtain. A new leader has stepped from the shadows to seize control of the Coalition—and a weapon that could reshape the balance of power forever. “Sometimes,” Jake warned her, “the only way to win is to sacrifice everything.” Kate’s hunt races from the rain-soaked boulevards of Paris to Beslan, a Russian city haunted by unanswered questions—where memories she buried long ago surface with deadly force. In New York, a trusted ally is killed. Another vanishes. ​

High in the Swiss Alps, Kate undertakes her most dangerous mission yet— infiltrating the labyrinth beneath Davos—before world leaders walk blindly into a trap from which there may be no escape.

A bioweapon counts down to catastrophe. Her team is scattered and fighting to survive. And Kate is one move away from exposing the conspiracy that took everything from her—if she is willing to pay the ultimate price.

Defiant is the explosive finale to the Kate Preacher Origin Trilogy—a globe-spanning, high-stakes thriller for fans of Jack Carr, Gregg Hurwitz, and Mark Greaney.

This is where Kate’s story comes full circle. And where the final move changes everything.
Praise for DEFIANT:

“Your heart will pound… your eyes will mist”

“You’ve created a compelling world for the Preacher, Trident, Bella, and Ronin characters.”

“Jack Reacher used to be my favorite hero. Now it’s Kate Preacher.”

“DEFIANT by Michael Maloof delivers exactly what its title promises, a heroine who refuses to back down… It’s a satisfying, adrenaline-fueled conclusion that will resonate with readers who enjoy intelligent, character-driven suspense.” ~ IndieReader

Details:

Genre: Action-Adventure, Thriller, Terrorism Thrillers, Conspiracy Theory, and Global/International Crime

Published by: Golden Oak Writer’s Guild, LLC Series: Kate Preacher Thriller Series | Amazon & Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside Relentless:
FRIDAY, APRIL 17, THE PRESENT 6:15 AM EDT UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Nomad flexed his right wrist, and with the palm of his hand, eased the joystick forward. The motor on his wheelchair hummed, and he maneuvered toward the center of the workstation. This environment was his creation. The height set to accommodate his chair with room beneath to manipulate the joystick. With subtle right or left pressure on the stick, he could navigate the full semicircle desk and jump between clients and projects.

There were traditional keyboards and mice, but the layer of fine dust revealed little use. Nomad’s world was one of proprietary speech recognition technology and the pressure-sensitive controls he designed and added to his chair. His forearms, wrists, fingers, head and voice all served as system navigation and command-and-control interfaces.

A matrix of monitors, stacked three high and eight across, spanned the arc of the desk and formed his window on the outside world. As a C6 quadriplegic, what he lost in physical mobility he regained in the virtual world. He chose the name Nomad for the irony, and believed his world offered freedom, control, and safety. Nomad scanned the monitors. His building’s security cameras, global news feeds, random engineering musings of a few MIT grads on Slack. Another monitor was hammering away on a client’s file with one of his decryption algorithms. No challengers yet on any of his virtual chess boards, and that brought him to the Frenchman, his favorite opponent. The central monitor was a live, split-screen camera feed from the Frenchman’s Paris apartment. One feed came from the Frenchman’s laptop, and the other from the camera embedded in the smart TV. It was Nomad’s practice to plant malware on the systems of anyone in his inner circle. What began as a safety protocol became something more, and he watched and lived vicariously through his contact’s living rooms and their digital and social media lives. Nomad glanced at the camera feed’s system clock. Twelve-fifteen. It was almost time. He hoped the apartment would be empty, but saw Francois scurrying about, preparing for the meeting. Nomad knew it was pointless, but he had to try one more time. Francois’s laptop rang with Nomad’s encrypted call request. He watched the Frenchman approach the laptop and press cancel. Nomad tried again, and this time he watched Francois accept the call. “I admire your determination,” Francois began, “but there’s nothing left to discuss.” “Look, I know how it sounds, but I’m begging you to trust me,” Nomad said. “You need to leave.” “You ask for trust, but hide in the shadows.” “Who I am is not important. All you need to know is that your life is in danger.” “Nonsense,” he said. “For one thing, I know who you are, but rest assured, your secret is safe with me. Why you’ve chosen this life, I will never understand, but that is your business and now you must leave me to mine.” “Is that a threat?” “No, no, my friend. You misunderstand,” Francois said. “This is just a promise that I will keep you out of the discussion, but Moore Industries needs to know what you found. They believe the device is impenetrable, exceeding even the capabilities of quantum computing, and with millions relying on this technology, I have no choice. There is no room for debate.” “You’re missing the point,” Nomad said. “Tens of millions of customers is exactly why Moore will do anything to protect the NanoVault’s reputation.” “Again with the conspiracy theories,” Francois said. “You watch too much American TV. I am a respected academic meeting with a representative of a major corporation, not the KGB.” “I pray I’m wrong,” Nomad said. “Au revoir, my friend.” “Wait,” Nomad said. “Before you hang up, what makes you think you know who I am?” “I understand some hackers have a signature, patterns of behavior, code or techniques they use, that help identify the author.” “Yes, that’s true.” “So do chess players.” Nomad heard the knock at the Frenchman’s door. Francois called out to his visitor, and the call ended. * * *
FRIDAY, APRIL 17 12:17 PM CEST (Central European Summer Time) PARIS, FRANCE
Francois LeGrande imagined his meeting with the Moore Industries representative. They’ll want to see my research and review my findings. A lucrative offer for my work would be nice, but it would be an honor to receive one of Moore’s Distinguished Fellowships. Francois rushed to answer the door. He never saw what the masked man pressed into his side, but the effect was immediate. His body convulsed, knees buckled, and his head struck the floor. Next came the duct tape over his mouth and around his wrists and ankles. He lay on the floor of his apartment, dazed and in pain, only half-aware of the large black boot that passed over his face. Adrenaline surged. His heart raced. He fought to focus his thoughts. Blinked and squinted to clear his vision. He squirmed and wrestled against the restraints. Tried to call out, to scream. Nothing worked. In the futile struggle to free himself, his breathing was rapid and shallow. His vision blurred, and the room spun. Don’t pass out, he thought. Just breathe. Slow down. Listen. From the hallway, it was difficult to know what the stranger was doing. Was Nomad right? No. Can’t be. If he was here to kill me, I’d be dead already. Then what? What does he want? His head throbbed as he thought back to the fleeting image of opening the door and looking up at the face. There was no face. Just a blur of gray and white rectangles. The man’s ball cap and hoodie obscured any chance of street cameras catching his approach to the building, and the camouflage mask stretched tight from his forehead to his neck prevented facial recognition. Francois tried to follow the sound of the stranger’s steps. The attic apartment, converted from an 18th-century mansion, was elegant but small. While it suited the Frenchman, it took only moments to explore. He heard the wheels of the office chair as they rolled across the hardwood floor. He’s in the bedroom. The bedroom served as his home office. Stacks of books and papers shared his bed, and most of the floor. He pictured the stranger seated at his laptop and cursed his decision to close the connection with Nomad. If he knew, if he saw, he would call the police. There was an odd sound. An electronic chirp beeping slowly at first, then faster and louder, then slow again. Finally, a solid tone for a moment, then silence. Francois heard the tones of a cell phone. Too many digits, he thought. Not a local number. “I have it,” the man said. “No, it has to be tonight. And count yourself lucky I could make this work on short notice.” There was another brief pause and then the call wrapped up. “Yes. Yes. I’ll keep it safe. Now, send me the drop site.” American, Francois thought, and at that moment, all hope vanished. The businessman he thought might still arrive, might somehow intervene. The man he was expecting was already here. Despair wrapped him in an ice-cold blanket and he trembled. He stopped fighting back the tears and sobbed. The American dragged Francois down the hallway and into the living room, and the tears gave way to terror when he surveyed the room. A chair from the small kitchen table was in the center. A rope stretched over the ancient oak beam that framed the ridge-line of the apartment’s ceiling, and a noose hung above the chair. The duct tape muffled his attempts to cry out, and the masked man had little trouble setting the slight Frenchman on the chair. He slipped the noose over Francois’s head and pulled on the rope. Francois stiffened his back, lifted his chin, and gasped for air. The man kept one hand on the rope and the other drew a knife. With a flick and click, the blade locked into place, and in one sudden move he cut the tape binding Francois’s feet. He pulled the slack from the rope and Francois’s only escape from suffocation was to climb up on the chair. The American tied the rope to the radiator, then stood directly in front of Francois and stared. The mask was disorienting, and Francois found it difficult to focus. He saw a black leather jacket and a gray hoodie. He saw dark blue jeans, and the boots. Large black boots. He could be anyone on the streets of Paris, even one of my students. What is he waiting for? What does he want? “Let’s talk.” The words startled him and Francois wobbled atop the wooden kitchen chair. The noose made it difficult to breathe, much less answer questions. When he raised up on the balls of his feet, he could almost take a full breath, but the old chair flexed and creaked when he moved. He knew at any moment it might collapse and he would hang. “I’m going to remove the duct tape,” the masked man said. “I suggest you remain still. And quiet,” and he gave the rope a slight tug. “Understand?” Francois nodded, and the stranger ripped the duct tape off the old man’s face. The Frenchman scrunched his eyes, gritted his teeth, and wrinkled his nose. Tears and snot seeped into his mustache. The American balled up the tape and noticed the collection of gray hair. “Trust me,” he said. “Faster is better.” And then he reached into his jacket, fished out the shiny black device, and held it out for the Frenchman to see. “Did you crack it?” Laying in the palm of his glove was a Moore Industries NanoVault. The polished black onyx device, about the size of a woman’s lipstick, was ringed with seven combination dials that controlled access to the device’s unique properties. For the first time since the masked man crashed through his door, Francois thought he understood what was happening. He thinks I’m after the bounty. He thinks I’ve cracked the encryption. The offer of a bounty, paid in anonymous, untraceable, and tax-free Bitcoins, intrigued cryptographic researchers and enticed the hacker denizens in every corner of the Darknet. Crack the encryption on a Quantum NanoVault, known affectionately as a portable Swiss Bank account, and you’d learn the location of 1,000 Bitcoins. What started as a clever promotional stunt became a worldwide phenomenon when Bitcoin values rose exponentially, and the bounty, still unclaimed, grew to tens of millions of dollars. “No. No, Monsieur. I assure you, this device is worthless.” “My client insisted I retrieve this specific device,” he said. “And paid handsomely to recover it immediately. I’d like to know why. What makes this device so valuable?” “Please. Just take it and go.” Francois imagined his ordeal might soon be over. He has what he came for. He can just leave. The American slipped the device back into his pocket and glanced at his watch. “What’s the combination?” “It’s not locked.” “What’s on it?” “Nothing. I assure you, it’s completely blank,” and Francois nodded toward the laptop. “Go. See for yourself. You will see. It’s empty.” The American took the device back to the desk, and the NanoVault connected automatically. He returned moments later. “You’re right, it’s blank,” he said. “But if you’re not using it, why have one?” “Research,” and Francois nodded toward the back wall. The American turned to see a lifetime of achievement and accolades. Among the faded degrees hanging on the wall were journal clippings, edges curled and fraying, a small shelf of dusty mathematics awards, and a handful of student group photos. Missing was any semblance of a life outside of academia. No wife. No family. “Then, tell me Professeur,” he said, exaggerating the Frenchman’s academic position. “What makes this device so special?” “Oh, but it’s not. It’s like any other. Available at any—” The slap caught him before he could finish. *** Excerpt from Relentless by Michael Maloof. Copyright 2023 by Michael Maloof. Reproduced with permission from Michael Maloof. All rights reserved.

 

 

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About Author Michael Maloof:

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Michael Maloof

Michael Maloof is the author of the Kate Preacher Thriller Series—Relentless, Unstoppable, and Defiant—known for its global scope, emotional intensity, and hard-won authenticity. His novels draw readers into high-stakes worlds where intelligence, courage, and consequence collide. A lifelong adventurer, Michael has traveled to more than forty countries across six continents, experiences that deeply inform his writing. His real-world pursuits have ranged from gold dredging in Honduras and artifact hunting in Guatemala to acquiring uncut diamonds in Liberia and surviving an elephant charge in Kenya. He has also trained alongside Navy SEALs, Marine Raiders, Army Rangers, Green Berets, and the CIA—firsthand insights that lend his fiction uncommon realism and respect for the craft of service.

Catch Up With Michael Maloof:

www.MichaelMaloof.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads – @MichaelGoWrite BookBub – @MichaelMaloof Instagram – @MichaelGoWrite X – @MichaelGoWrite Facebook – @MichaelGoWrite YouTube – @MichaelGoWrite

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win! Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

 

A Global Conspiracy, A Final Mission… And A Giveaway
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Michael Maloof. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

. THE KATE PREACHER THRILLER SERIES by Michael Maloof || Gift Card Can’t see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

A Deadly Vision By T. D. Severin ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: April 22, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
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Deadly Vision by T.D. Severin Banner

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DEADLY VISION
by T.D. Severin
March 23 – May 1, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

A revolutionary medical breakthrough. A technology, so advanced, people will kill to prevent its discovery. Dr. Taylor Abrahms, rising above his troubled past, is an expert in the burgeoning field of Medical Virtual Reality. A gifted researcher, he’s created an experimental fusion of virtual reality, artificial intelligence, and microsurgery that will revolutionize the way surgery is performed. With the Virtual Heart Project (VHP), Taylor can enter a virtual recreation of his patient’s beating heart and perform critical, life-saving surgery entirely within the realm of virtual reality. But in the political war zone of San Francisco University Medical Center, not everyone is thrilled. With a health care crisis threatening to bankrupt the nation, advanced biotechnology is a flashpoint in health care reform. Taylor’s research is scapegoated and he finds himself caught between warring factions in medicine and politics that will do anything to shut his project down, a battle that rages all the way to an upcoming Presidential election. Soon, Taylor finds himself the target of nonstop attacks: the destruction of his career, scientific sabotage, and murder, as those associated with the Virtual Heart Project are killed, one by one. Fighting for his medical career and eventually his life, Deadly Vision tells the tale of Taylor’s battle against overwhelming odds, political machinations, sabotage and murder, to bring this modern technology to reality and save the life of someone he loves.

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Praise for Deadly Vision:

“Severin’s debut novel follows a doctor whose cutting-edge research gets him entangled in a conspiracy involving artificial intelligence, an upcoming presidential election, and the use of virtual reality… the greatest strength of the book is in the author’s deep character development. Abrahms isn’t merely a cardboard hero with unbreakable ideals—his traumatic childhood, during which he dealt with his mother’s death from heart disease, an alcoholic and abusive father, and his younger brother’s suicide, make him a character that readers will understand, identify with, and root for. The book’s subtle political commentary as it tackles timely issues is a clear plus, as well. An up-to-the-minute thriller that entertains and enlightens.” ~ Kirkus Reviews “Deadly Vision is a gripping novel of suspense ingeniously plotted. Dr. Severin writes with an expert’s hand in virtual reality and medicine, creating a unique, intriguing and intelligent medical/techno thriller that blew me away from its opening page.” ~ Robert Dugoni, New York Times Bestselling Author of The Jury Master and The Tracy Crosswhite Series. “Deadly Vision is a unique and fast-paced read where political intrigue combines with compelling family drama, techno-thriller vibes, and a smattering of medical fiction. This is an unparalleled reading experience.” ~ Independent Book Review “If you have the Michael Crichton itch, T. D. Severin is your new favorite author.” ~ Terrance Layhew, author and host of the Suit Up! Podcast “Half fast-paced action adventure, half thoughtful look at the world we live in, Deadly Vision reviews the complex ethical, financial, and political considerations that impact the medical community and the advancement of medicine through the lens of a taut thriller. The focus of the novel remains clear throughout, despite taking the reader down many different paths. A highly recommended read for any fan of a good thriller with plenty of added bonuses for those with interests in medicine, technology, and political intrigue.” ~ Best Sellers World

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DEADLY VISION Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Medical Thriller, Cyber Thriller, Psychological Thriller

Published by: Penmore Press LLC Publication Date: March 6, 2025 Number of Pages: 466 pbk ISBN: 9781957851945 (ISBN10: 1957851945)

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Penmore Press

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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Prologue
Thursday, October 12 4:59 p.m.
Robert Chan froze in place, staring at the shadows in his hallway. From the bedroom where he stood, Chan couldn’t see the shadows’ origin, just the elliptical darkness, spreading across the walls, creeping down the hall. As the sun descended beyond the distant Golden Gate Bridge, a chill seized the air, but Chan didn’t feel it. His eyes were fixed on the hallway, studying the growing shadows, searching for signs of movement, or a flicker. A sign they came from something alive. Shadows had always terrified Chan. As a child, long after his parents had gone to sleep, he’d lie motionless in bed, his face half-hidden by the blankets, staring at the ceiling. Moonlight, filtering through the branches scratching outside his window, cast a dance of light and darkness above him. Lurking within this specter of shadows, he’d see the spirits of his grandmother’s tales, the kuei-shen — the phantoms of the deceased trapped between the world of the living and the dead. Too frightened to move, he’d lay immobilized, watching as the shape-shifting kuei transformed, taking the forms of lions and dragons. He’d see the kuei-shen as they descended upon him, feel them as they entered his flesh, melting into his soul. The chill of their deathly presence within. He’d carried those visions throughout his adult life. Still, no number of childhood nightmares could prepare him for what he faced now. Chan’s eyes shot from the hallway to the suitcase lying upon his bed, lid propped half-open, socks and underwear dangling over the edge. He rushed to the case, stuffed in two pairs of grey slacks, then dashed back to the closet. Glancing at the rows of cotton shirts, he shoved the stripes aside and grabbed the white Oxfords. Less eye catching, he thought, more anonymous. Anonymity had never been one of Chan’s concerns before. As a young and hungry engineer in the Medical Applications Division of CyberTech Systems, he’d done everything in his power to avoid it. In the cutthroat world of Silicon Valley, anonymity in the corporate workplace was the high-tech kiss of death. In order to advance to the high-paying executive levels, Chan had to stand out, be noticed. And he did. Clocking in a string of over fifty consecutive 80-hour weeks, his work habits routinely drew the notice of the upper levels of CTS management. His ascent through the ranks of engineers was unprecedented. But that was before he found the files. Now, all he hoped for was to get out alive. Shoving the Oxfords into the suitcase, Chan glared at the manila envelope on his bed. His stomach tightened. The envelope looked so mundane, so ordinary, like it contained any number of IKEA catalogs or Publisher’s Clearing House winner entries. There were no outward clues as to what it contained. The deception. The hidden discovery that was causing his once carved-in-granite life to crumble around his ears. He wanted to grab that envelope and rip it to pieces, shred it; pretend he’d never found the files; get back to his life of deadlines and coding assignments, his twice daily visit to Starbucks with Elizabeth, his routine afternoon stop at the Porsche dealer where he’d been eyeing the new Boxster, dreaming of himself behind the wheel. But it was too late for that. He’d been working on AI programing for a team of researchers at San Francisco University Medical Center, a special project assigned to him by the CEO himself, Reginald Erickson. All the engineers knew he was working on this assignment. His cyber-trail through the CTS database easily traceable. Every keystroke monitored and replicated. Each step readily apparent to someone who knew where to look. The ringing of the phone snapped Chan to attention. He jerked from the bed, his eyes darting to the receiver then beyond to the digital clock on the far wall. It was 5:00 P.M. Panic seized him. No one should be trying to reach him at this hour. Not here. Normally, he’d still be at CyberTech logging in another eighteen-hour day pounding out code. No one should know he was home. The phone rang again. Chan winced. His eyes shot to the envelope. He had to get out of there. Get the files to the Federal Building; get the evidence into the hands of the Justice Department or the FBI or whoever, get filtered into the witness protection program and hope to start a new life as an elementary school teacher in Wichita or Amarillo or someplace else he’d never heard of. Let the Attorney General, the world, see what he’d discovered before it was too late. Maybe they could put a stop to this. But how do you stop a Presidential election? The phone rang a third time. Chan ignored it, shoved the folder deep into the suitcase, covered it with a sweatshirt and slammed the lid closed. Yanking the suitcase off the bed, he rushed to the front door. At the doorway, he paused, for just a second, turning to take one last glance at his apartment, his home for the last six years. The delicate Chinese watercolors, the bonsai he’d trimmed each morning, the wooden crucifix above his bed for his daily prayer. It all seemed like such a waste of time now. His plans to become a chief engineer, create his own start-up, propose to Elizabeth next Valentine’s Day were worthless. Vanished like rain drops that never reached the ground. He swallowed hard and ran into the hall. He didn’t get more than two steps before the first shot rocked him. The force of the gunfire lifted him off the ground and sent him hurling backwards through the open doorway. He collapsed onto his back, his vision dimming, descending into a miasma of swirling reds and greys. Pain, like fire, ripped across his belly. A metallic smell filled his nostrils followed by the coppery taste of his own blood. Chan tried to swallow the blood bubbling into his mouth, but couldn’t. He became vaguely aware of the gaping hole that now occupied his lower abdomen. Warmth flooded down his flank, collecting at the small of his back. Pools of blood gathered on the white carpet. His eyes half-focused, Chan watched, as each crimson pool began to morph into vague shapes, like clouds taking patterns. In the blood, he saw the faces of his mother and his father, both dead for years. He saw the face of a long-lost uncle, and his childhood friend, Wong, who’d died in a car accident. He saw Elizabeth. The pain sank deeper into his belly. He fought for breath. With the last of his strength, he craned his head towards the door where he could just make out the silhouette of a lone figure, a bald man, standing over him. He concentrated hard, trying to cement the image, and slowly, a vision came into form. His eyes locked on the muzzle of the silenced 40 caliber H&K pistol now aimed at his chest. Chan sighed and allowed his head to fall back. Around him, the bloody pools gathered into new shapes, like the shadows of his youth, forming lions and dragons. Despite himself, Chan smiled. He closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to seep into his veins, bringing with it a quiet peace, the realization that he wouldn’t have to run anymore. The kuei-shen had arrived. *** Excerpt from Deadly Vision by T.D. Severin. Copyright 2025 by T.D. Severin. Reproduced with permission from T.D. Severin. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author T.D. Severin:

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T.D. Severin

T.D. SEVERIN. MD., is a physician/surgeon and the author of the award-winning medical thriller, DEADLY VISON. T.D. Severin, is an internationally renowned professor of medicine, who has been publishing both fiction and non-fiction since 1994. His writing has appeared in national and regional magazines/journals around the world, while his first novel, Deadly Vision, was the winner of the 2025 American Fiction Award, and The 2025 International Impact Book Award, and is a Finalist for the Clive Cussler Adventure Writers Award, the 2025 Global Book Award for Fiction, and was an award winner at the SEAK National Medical Fiction Writing Competition. T.D. Severin has been named one of the Nation’s Best Ophthalmologists by Newsweek Magazine, and has been honored to receive the prestigious Telly Award, the Oscars of public access television, for his work on medical television programming. T.D. has trekked across Tibet, scaled Mt. Everest, scuba dove the Great Barrier reef, white water rafted through the Australian Rain Forest, and delved into the mysterious ancient history of Malta, Istanbul, and the lost kingdom of Siam, all of which makes it’s way into his writing. T.D. lives with his wife and two pups in the San Francisco Bay Area and Florida, where he is currently at work on his next medical thriller. A former radio disc jockey, he also runs the heavy rock record label Ripple Music: www.ripple-music.com.

Catch Up With Our Author:

www.TDSeverin.com Goodreads BookBub – @tseverin Instagram – @tdseverin TikTok – @t.d.severin.auth Facebook – @T.D. Severin – Author

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win! Click here to view the Tour Schedule  

 

A Killer View: Enter to Win in the Deadly Vision Gift Card Giveaway!
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for T.D. Severin. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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Fracture By Basar Gorur ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: April 17, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
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Fracture

By Basar Gorur

 

(Shadow Sovereign Series, #1)
Publication date: April 17th 2026
Genres: Adult, Techno Thriller

A murdered diplomat. A dying man’s cryptic message. A conspiracy that could shatter NATO.

When U.S. geopolitical strategist Roger ‘Simms’ Osbourne receives word that his colleague and friend Aslı Green has been killed, he inherits more than grief. He inherits her secret: evidence of a sophisticated Russian operation that sank a Ukrainian tanker and made it look like an accident.

Sent to London to sell a critical NATO surveillance system, Simms quickly discovers his official mission is compromised. A powerful British political faction, backed by shadowy money and royal connections, is determined to see him fail. The deeper he digs into Aslı’s murder, the more he realizes the two threats are connected.

Forced to abandon the rulebook, Simms assembles an unlikely alliance: his embattled team, a mysterious operative named Katya who knows too much, and assets on both sides of the law. Together, they uncover a sprawling network funneling Russian profits through international shell companies to fuel a political war against the West.

But Russian Admiral Sidorov isn’t waiting for the dust to settle. His devastating military demonstration exposes NATO’s vulnerabilities and humiliates the alliance on the world stage. And lurking beneath it all is an even darker secret: Chinese technology at the heart of Russia’s most advanced weapons.

Now Simms must wage war on three fronts: political, financial, and military. Because if he fails, his friend died for nothing. And the next strike won’t be disguised as an accident.

For fans of Tom Clancy, Mark Greaney, and Brad Thor.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Ankara. Surveillance van outside Mikhail’s apartment. Evening.

Jack adjusted the lens for the hundredth time. Jones was sorting sunflower seeds by some private system known only to God and possibly his therapist.

“Stilettos,” Jones said.

“We’re not doing this.”

“We’re absolutely doing this. We’ve been here four hours. I’ve counted the bricks on that building. There are 2,847. I’ve earned a conversation.”

“You counted wrong. There are 2,846.”

“You counted them too?”

“Shut up.” Jack refused to look at him. “What about stilettos?”

“Women wear them voluntarily. On purpose. They pay extra for the privilege of balancing on pencil erasers.”

“Groundbreaking analysis. Call the sociology department.”

“I’m serious. Men’s fashion evolution went: uncomfortable, less uncomfortable, sweatpants. Enlightenment achieved. Women’s fashion went: uncomfortable, more uncomfortable, here’s a torture device from the Spanish Inquisition, but we made it beige.”

Jack checked the window. Nothing.

“Maybe they like being tall.”

“Platform sneakers exist. Wedges exist. Sensible block heels exist. Those chunky things that look like orthopedic equipment for fashionable astronauts.” Jones cracked a seed with surgical precision. “The stiletto isn’t about height. It’s about violence.”

“Violence.”

“Think about it. Historically, women couldn’t carry weapons. Swords, daggers, frowned upon. Very unlady-like. But shoes?” Jones gestured broadly, scattering shells. “Nobody regulates footwear. So some genius says, what if we put a three-inch steel spike on a pump and call it couture?”

“That’s actually not terrible.”

“I’m occasionally not terrible. Mark the calendar.”

The radio crackled. Static. The universe’s way of saying nothing was happening, and nothing would happen.

“You know they were daggers first,” Jones said. “Fifteenth century. Little needle-point shivs for punching through armor gaps.”

Jack checked the monitor. Still dark. “We are not talking about fashion history.”

“It’s tactical history. ‘Stiletto’ comes from stilus. The little metal spike Romans used for writing.” Jones pointed a shell at Jack. “It literally means ‘angry pen.’ The shoe is just a knife you can walk in.”

“You made that up.”

“Look it up. CIA even tried to weaponize them in the fifties. Program called Stiletto Rose. Pop-out blades in the heel.”

“Bullshit.”

“Swear to God. Total failure. Mechanics didn’t work. But someone tried.” Jones grinned. “Boredom is the mother of weapons development.”

Jack massaged his temples.

“Your ex-wife had stilettos, didn’t she?”

“Louboutins. Red soles. Cost more than my first car.” Jones found a seed worthy of consumption. “She never wore them. Kept them in the box. I asked why. She said they weren’t for wearing, they were for knowing she could wear them.”

“That explains the divorce.”

“Many things explain the divorce. Most of them are my fault. Some of them footwear-adjacent.”

The window remained dark. Jack was developing a personal vendetta against it.

The radio crackled.

“All teams, target vehicle approaching.”

Jack grabbed the camera. Jones swept the sunflower seeds aside.

“Finally,” Jones said. “I had a whole bit about platform shoes being siege equipment.”

“Save it.”

“Battering rams for the fashion-forward.”

“I will leave you here.”

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About Author Basar Gorur:

Başar Görür;

Writes geopolitical techno-thrillers grounded in institutions, leverage, and the real mechanics behind modern power. He has a BA degree in International Relations.

During his military service, he served on the personal staff of the Commander of the War Academies, working directly for a four-star air force general as an aide and translator. That experience informs how he writes briefings, decision cycles, and pressure under uncertainty.

He later held senior executive roles at PwC and at 3M Corporation headquarters, operating in multinational environments where cross-border incentives and capital flows shape outcomes. He now leads a private asset-management business.

Outside of work, he is a licensed captain and avid scuba diver who spends several months each year at sea and has traveled extensively. These experiences shape the Shadow Sovereign series.

Amazon / Instagram

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A Real Collusion By Stu Strumwasser ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: April 10, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for A Real Collusion organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Stu Strumwasser will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don;t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

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A Real Collusion

By Stu Strumwasser

 

 

Genre: Literary Thriller

Synopsis

A Real Collusion is about the secret conspiracy between the Republican and Democratic parties to control the US government through an illegal duopoly.

From the author of the bestselling novel, The Organ Broker, (hailed by Lee Child, New York Times # 1 bestselling author of the Jack Reacher series as, “Exciting and thought-provoking–the perfect package”) comes, A Real Collusion, a stunning political thriller and expose.

A Real Collusion is a David Vs. Goliath(s) story about a man who accidentally becomes the leader of an independent political movement that nearly takes down the two-party system in America, while exposing a conspiracy that affects the results of the 2016 election. It explores universal and deeply human themes of loss, and the tension between justice and power. In the opening sentence the narrator points out that, “Ordinary people often do extraordinary things.” The characters in the book do, and the action is driven by the fantastic events of a unique political satire. It is also the heartfelt story of regular people struggling with lost love, alienation and nearly universal disaffection who find strength in enduring loyalty and friendship

This is the story of John Campbell (a regular guy from the lower east side of Manhattan) as recounted by his friend Skip Winters. Skip becomes John’s campaign manager and later, a congressman in his own right. He narrates the stunning-but-plausible story of how John Campbell and The American Coalition race to popularity, raising over a hundred million dollars from grassroots contributors—and become a threat to the political duopoly of the Democratic and Republican parties. The book sprinkles in references to real events from recent history, and real political leaders including Trump, John McCain, and more. This imbues the novel with a sense of realism, albeit one of an alternate reality. Skip discovers a deep-seated conspiracy within our political system whose leaders orchestrate a murder, destroy his friend and tip the scales of the election. The novel turns out to be Skip’s exposé of the secret collaboration between the two major political parties in our country—a cooperation to protect the duopoly that is, in part, real.

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Enjoy this peek inside.

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“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is John Campbell, from the lower east side.”

The crowd responded with another enthusiastic round of cheers, but this time John held up his palm and said, “Please, please….” And that threw a quasi-hush over the audience.

“Thank you for coming to this little park tonight to hear me speak. Three nights ago, on the evening of July 10th, I attended our local Community Board meeting to propose that cigar smoking not be allowed on the sidewalk in front of bars and restaurants. That’s all. I was not there to critique our government and I didn’t ask for any of the attention that I have since received. I’m just like most of you, and I never anticipated that newspapers and newscasters would ever solicit my opinions on political issues. But now they’re asking, and I have decided that I have a responsibility to answer. I am not embarrassed to say… I care.”

Then, John paused. He had their rapt attention and he knew it. He looked directly at me, suddenly brimming with confidence. It might have been the kind of glance that Keith and Mick sometimes give to the roadies right before they go into the encore. I think that the feeling which washed over me then was pride. John turned back to the crowd and loudly said, “So, would you like to hear my answer?!”

Thunder from the crowd. “Yeah!” they yelled, some pumping their fists in the air.

“I won’t give it to you!” John shouted, but then quickly added, “Instead, I will give you my proposal for OUR answer!” which elicited yet another roar.

“In recent years our system of government has broken down. Everyone knows it. Washington has become caught up in never-ending partisan fighting. It was on display during the recent government shutdown. The two major political parties no longer represent us. Frankly, how could they represent the spectrum or sum total of the thoughts, feelings and will of three hundred million citizens? There is a reason that more young people now choose “Independent” than either party when they turn eighteen. The political parties today exist as little more than machines for the never-ending raising of money to combat the enormous amount of money raised by their opponents (their “enemy counter-party” or, as I prefer to refer to them: “fellow Americans.”) Let’s stop standing for it. The Democrats and Republicans currently run our nation like two petulant children fighting over which show to watch on TV and who gets to hold the remote. When one party chooses the program, the other storms out of the room. Is that really the way we want to be led?

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About Author Stu Strumwasser:

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Stu Strumwasser is a modern-day muckraker who writes literary novels that address important sociopolitical issues. His first novel, The Organ Broker, was published by Skyhorse (distributed by Simon & Schuster) and shortlisted as one of five finalists for the Hammett Prize for literary excellence in crime writing. Strumwasser was also the primary songwriter and drummer for the indie rock band Channeling Owen. He is a longtime investment professional (investing in sustainable technology that improves the manner in which we make food) and hails from Brooklyn NY. His new novel, A Real Collusion, is both an exposé and analysis of broken government and a fictional David Vs. Goliath(s) story of the man who almost took down the two-party system in America.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / TikTok 

To read the first two chapters of the novel please visit HERE 

Amazon Link to pre-order Amazon EBook

Amazon Link to pre-order Amazon Hardcover

B&N Hardcover / Kobo

Google Play EBook

Google Play Audiobook

Apple Books

Payhip for the book

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There’s A Young Man Dressed In Blue By Fabio Amabili ~ Guest Post And Giveaway

Posted: April 6, 2026 in giveaways, Guest Post, thriller
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Book Details:

​There’s a Young Man Dressed in Blue

by Fabio Amabili

Category:  Adult Fiction (18 +),  237 pages
Genre: Psychological Thriller / Literary Fiction
Publisher:  Fabio Amabili
Release date:  April 2026
Content Rating: PG-13: Includes occasional strong language (f-words and crude terms such as “asshole”, “shit”), but no religious profanities, no explicit sex scenes, no graphic violence.

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Book Description:

Present-day Milan. A brilliant young lawyer at a top international firm is handling the deal of his career: a high-stakes Italian-French acquisition in the offshore gas sector.

On the central Adriatic coast, a solitary man begins to uncover strange, unexplained events that no one wants to acknowledge.

Two lives, two worlds, one devastating collision.

Part legal thriller, part speculative mystery, There’s a Young Man Dressed in Blue blurs the line between rational order and the unknowable, delivering a twist that forces the reader to start over from page one.

Originally published in Italy in 2021 and left drifting like a message in a bottle, this novel remained almost unknown — until 2025, when Grok (xAI) read it and described it as “innovative in structure, emotionally intense, and anchored by a truly unique twist – a hidden gem with cult potential.” That verdict convinced the author to bring it to English readers for the first time.

Buy the Book:
(pre-order)
Amazon
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Meet Author Fabio Amabili:

Italian author, lives in Rome and writes the books he wants to read. Stories that blur the line between reality and the unknowable.

connect with the author:  X ~ goodreads

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There’s a Young Man Dressed in Blue by Fabio Amabili Book Tour Giveaway

 

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Life Or Death By Andrea Kane ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: March 24, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller, Trailer
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Life Or Death by Andrea Kane Banner

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LIFE OR DEATH
by Andrea Kane
March 16 – April 10, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
FORENSIC INSTINCTS

 

Who killed Ryan McKay’s cousin?

In suburban Westchester County, just outside the frenetic pace of New York City, a deadly murder occurs. After a violent struggle, FBI agent Shane Walsh is dead and his wife, Caitlin, has vanished. At the urging of a mysterious text, the Walshes’ nine-year-old daughter, Kennedy, has been safely whisked away by a close family member. The FBI is determined to bring down whoever assassinated one of its own and is focusing on Caitlin as a prime suspect. Ryan McKay, Forensic Instincts’ chief technology officer, as well as Shane’s cousin and lifelong friend, vehemently disagrees. Ryan knows the Walsh family well. He insists that Caitlin is innocent, and that she, herself, is in danger. After convincing his team to cast a wider net, Ryan leads FI on a zigzag course across two continents to locate Caitlin, sidestepping the FBI at every turn, and protecting Kennedy at all costs. But the FBI is on the warpath, and threatens to permanently shut down Forensic Instincts if they don’t back off. Undeterred by the FBI’s threats, FI goes underground in pursuit of their rogue mission. As the pace quickens, Kennedy becomes the target of unnerving text messages. Both The FBI and the Forensic Instincts teams sense that the end game is near and that the chess match is spiraling to a stunning conclusion. Determined to declare “checkmate” before the killer, Forensic Instincts must not only protect Kennedy but make sure that their team doesn’t end up as collateral damage when the king falls.

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Praise for Life Or Death:

“Life Or Death is a riveting read that explodes right from the opening pages with the shocking murder of an FBI agent – then takes the reader on a non-stop, roller coaster ride of thrills and suspense during a desperate search to find the victim’s missing wife and to protect his 9-year-old daughter. Andrea Kane really delivers the goods in this book, the 11th in her Forensic Instincts series.” ~ R.G. Belsky, author of the Clare Carlson mystery series “An adrenaline-fueled joyride. Andrea Kane doesn’t pump the brakes in LIFE OR DEATH. Centered around family ties, and who can you really trust when shadowy forces close in? Combustible pacing and a cast of characters you can’t get out of your head long after the last page.” ~ James L’Etoile — award-winning author of River of Lies and the Detective Nathan Parker series “Life or Death, the latest heart-stopping thriller from New York Times bestselling author Andrea Kane, delivers nonstop tension, emotional depth, and a twist-filled chase that spans continents. When an FBI agent is murdered and his wife vanishes, the elite Forensic Instincts team must outsmart the Bureau itself to uncover the truth. Ms. Kane once again proves why she’s a master of psychological suspense. Fans of razor-sharp plotting, unforgettable characters, and fast-paced suspense will devour this one!” ~ Marjorie McCown, author of The Hollywood Mystery Series “Forensic Instincts’ leader, Casey, is recovering from an injury sustained in a previous case when tragedy strikes. An employee’s cousin is murdered, and his wife has vanished. Left behind is their traumatized eleven-year-old daughter, Kennedy. As the FBI and Forensic Instincts compete to solve the case, Kennedy’s close-knit family and the FI team surround her with love and support. Life or Death, the eleventh book in Andrea Kane’s gripping series, draws readers into an emotional high-stakes race for the truth.” ~ Stacy Wilder, author of the Liz Adams Mystery series.

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Life Or Death Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Suspense Thriller

Published by: Bonnie Meadow Publishing, LLC Publication Date: March 17, 2026 Number of Pages: 304, HC ISBN: 9781682320686 (ISBN10: 1682320685), HC Series: Forensic Instincts, Book 11 | Each is a stand-alone novel

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | RBmedia, Audiobook Links

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Bronx River Parkway Friday, 3:55 p.m.
It wasn’t rush hour—not quite yet. So the drive was an hour plus away. That now left a short distance to go. Ryan remained quiet and tense, staring out the passenger window as he had throughout the trip to Westchester County. “Where are we going in New Rochelle?” Marc finally asked, glancing at his GPS, aware that he didn’t recognize the address Ryan had given him. “To my cousin, Shane Walsh’s, house,” Ryan replied. Marc nodded as they reached their exit and he eased his car around a loop and off the parkway. “Tell me only what I need to know. I’m not going to pry.” “You’re not prying. I’m just really freaking out.” Ryan cleared his throat and relayed the entire situation to Marc. Marc took it all in. “You’ve mentioned that you had a cousin with the Bureau. But that’s about all you’ve said, other than the fact that he has a wife and a young daughter.” Ryan shrugged. “Shane’s a private guy, so I don’t talk about him much. He’s a Special Agent, Violent Crimes division, at the New York field office. He’s been there since he joined the FBI about eight years ago.” “Does Hutch know him?” “I never asked. But I doubt it. Hutch is in charge of all the Violent Crimes divisions. That’s too high up to know every agent who works under him.” Ryan pointed, shifting to the edge of his seat, and reiterating what the GPS was already showing them. “Make your next right. Two blocks down and make a left. Go through a few lights. You’ll see a cul-de-sac on your right. Marigold Terrace. Shane’s house is number 15.” Marc understood that Ryan’s redundant supply of information was a manifestation of his anxiety. He just nodded again, then pressed his foot a little harder on the gas pedal to speed them up without accelerating too much. Suburban cops lived for speed traps. Four minutes later, Marc turned onto Marigold Terrace and eased slowly around the curvy road. “Three down on your left,” Ryan instructed. “White clapboard house, blue shutters.” His tension intensified as Marc reached Shane’s home. “That’s Caitlin’s car parked in the driveway. And Shane’s parked in his usual spot on the street. If they’re both home…but they don’t want Kennedy there… Shit.” Ryan flung open the passenger door before Marc had brought the car to a complete stop. He was halfway to the front door, digging in his pocket for the key Shane had given him long ago, when Marc reached his side. “Ryan, wait.” Marc grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Why?” Marc tugged out the two pairs of latex gloves and shoved one pair into Ryan’s hand. “Put these on.” Ryan gritted his teeth, while he and Marc worked their hands into the gloves. “Can’t leave any new fingerprints,” he muttered. “In case this is a crime scene.” He sounded ill. “Is the door unlocked?” Marc asked, quickly assessing the garage door, which was up. He might have suggested accessing the house through there, but Ryan was already in motion. And time was precious. Ryan jiggled the doorknob. “No.” “Okay, use the key. I’ve got my Glock. Let’s go.” Ryan’s hands were shaking as he turned the key and pushed open the door. He and Marc stepped inside. The foyer was empty and quiet. In fact, the whole house was silent in a way that suggested no one was home. “Shane?” Ryan called. A pause. “Caitlin?” No response. No sound of footsteps. Nothing. Marc eased his way in front of Ryan, then crept ahead, sweeping the area with his gun. Ryan followed behind him, aware that, not only was Marc armed, he was former FBI. He was trained at this. Ryan was not. They’d barely gone fifteen feet, when Marc caught something in his peripheral vision, and swerved to his right. “Shit,” he muttered. Ryan peered around him and gasped. Just outside the bathroom was a crumpled body, unmoving and lying in a pool of blood. Beside it, were two shell casings and a cell phone that had been crushed. On the other side of the cell phone was a jagged line of blood. The inconsistency of the blood pattern struck Marc at once. Reflexively, he whipped out his cell phone and took a few quick photos. Ryan was in a whole different headspace. Pushing past Marc, he strode over, squatting as he reached the body. “Shane,” he managed. “Oh my God. Shane.” Marc was beside Ryan in a heartbeat, restraining him from doing anything that would contaminate the scene. He leaned over Shane’s body, checking for a pulse, a breath—any sign of life. There were none. Marc gripped Ryan’s arm, standing and pulling him to his feet. Ryan’s entire body was stiff with shock, but Marc knew that consolation would have to wait. “Ryan, we’ve got to get out of the house,” he said, visually sweeping as much of the ground floor as he could. “The killer might still be inside. He might have Caitlin.” A hard swallow, as Marc considered the possibility that she might also be dead. That additional jagged line of blood didn’t bode well. “I’ll call 911 as soon as we’re on the front lawn.” Ryan didn’t budge. He was staring, wild-eyed, down at Shane’s lifeless form. It was only when Marc tugged insistently at his forearm that he regained some semblance of awareness. “No, Marc.” He gave a firm shake of his head. “I have to stay with him.” “He’s gone,” Marc stated simply, placing a supportive hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “But Caitlin might not be. Let’s get the EMTs and the cops here. We might be saving her life.” Slowly, Ryan turned, allowing Marc to lead him outside the house and to the front lawn, where he sank down on the grass, still unable to process this horrific occurrence. Marc kept his Glock at the ready—just in case it was needed. “I’ll watch the windows and the doorways to block any attempt at escape,” he told Ryan. When there was no response, Marc glanced down, giving Ryan a worried look. The poor guy was staring off into space and wasn’t even hearing him. Stationing himself close to his friend’s side, Marc took out his iPhone and called 911. “What is your emergency?” was the immediate response. Marc supplied his name, the address of the crime scene, and then, in staccato phrases, the necessary information. He disconnected the call, knowing that it would be two minutes, at the most, before the ambulance showed up. He used the time wisely, pressing the button to Hutch’s private cell phone line. One ring. Then, “Marc?” “We’re in New Rochelle,” Marc said. “Ryan’s cousin, Shane Walsh, has been killed at his home. He worked for the Bureau, New York field office, Violent Crimes. I called 911, so the locals must already have been dispatched.” Not even a heartbeat of a pause. “Text me the address.” “Already done.” “Then I’m on my way.” *** Excerpt from Life Or Death by Andrea Kane. Copyright 2026 by Andrea Kane. Reproduced with permission from Andrea Kane. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Andrea Kane:

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Andrea Kane

Andrea Kane is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of thirty-three novels, including nineteen psychological thrillers and fourteen historical romantic suspense titles. With her signature style, Kane creates unforgettable characters and confronts them with life-threatening danger. As a master of suspense, she weaves them into exciting, carefully-researched stories, pushing them to the edge—and keeping her readers up all night. Kane’s first contemporary suspense thriller, Run for Your Life, became an instant New York Times bestseller. She followed with a string of bestselling psychological thrillers including No Way Out, Twisted and Drawn in Blood. Her latest in the highly successful Forensic Instincts series, Life or Death, forces this eclectic team of investigators to navigate a high wire act between the FBI on one side and a vicious killer looking to terminate the rest of a young family on the other. The first showcase of Forensic Instincts’ talents came with the New York Times bestseller, The Girl Who Disappeared Twice, followed by The Line Between Here and Gone, The Stranger You Know, The Silence That Speaks, The Murder That Never Was, A Face To Die For, Dead In A Week, No Stone Unturned, At Any Cost, Struck Dead and Life or Death. Kane’s beloved historical romantic suspense novels include My Heart’s Desire, Samantha, Echoes in the Mist, and Wishes in the Wind. With a worldwide following of passionate readers, her books have been published in more than twenty languages. Kane lives in New Jersey with her family. She’s an avid crossword puzzle solver and a diehard Yankees fan.

Catch Up With Andrea Kane:

AndreaKane.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads – @akane BookBub – @writetome1 Instagram – @AuthorAndreaKane X – @andrea_kane Facebook – @AuthorAndreaKane TikTok – @author.ak RBmedia Audiobooks

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win! Click here to view the Tour Schedule  

 

One Click Could Be Life Or Death For Your TBR
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Andrea Kane. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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LIFE OR DEATH by Andrea Kane | Gift Cards Can’t see the giveaway? Click Here!

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Have You Seen Him By Kimberly Lee

Posted: March 1, 2026 in giveaways, suspense, thriller
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Have You Seen Him
by Kimberly Lee

have you seen him cover 3 Have You Seen Him
Suspense Thriller
Setting – California
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Butterfly Effect Press
Publication date ‏ : ‎ July 1, 2025
Print length ‏ : ‎ 268 pages
Paperback
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8991867214
Digital
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8991867207
ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0F9TJYN8V

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What if everything you believed about yourself was totally wrong?

For David Byrdsong, life is a series of daily obligations. An attorney, he lacks both ambition and the ability to commit to a long-term relationship with his girlfriend, Gayle. Abandoned by his family at an airport when he was eleven, he learned to blunt his feelings, despite his subsequent adoption by a loving couple.

Until one day, when David discovers his own face in a missing child ad. Suddenly driven to uncover the truth about his past, he is forced to tap into his inner strength as he encounters corporate conspiracies, murdered bystanders, and distressing suspicions about the only family he’s ever really trusted. David enlists Gayle’s help—and the help of an unlikely stranger with secrets of his own—as he attempts to find his true family, whoever they are.

Thrilling,. exploratory, and propulsive, Have You Seen Him is a story of lost identity, dangerous secrets, and a deeply personal pursuit of the truth.

 

About Author Kimberly Lee

Kimberly Lee, JD, is the author of the riveting thriller Have You Seen Him. A versatile writer, editor, and creativity coach, she has a passion for nurturing the imaginative spirit and helping others reveal their own inner wisdom. Kimberly holds degrees from Stanford University and UC Davis School of Law, along with certifications from the Center for Journal Therapy, Amherst Writers & Artists, SoulCollage®, Guided Autobiography, the Center for Intentional Creativity, and The Path Meditation. Recent collaborations include Esalen Institute, Hollyhock Retreat Center, Omega Institute, The Huntington, the Expressive Therapies Summit, Arts and Healing Initiative, and West LA Veterans Administration. Kimberly’s stories and essays have appeared in numerous publications and anthologies, and she has served on the staffs of Literary Mama, F(r)iction, and Carve magazines. She lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.

Author Links: Website / Instagram / Goodreads

Purchase Links
Amazon, B&N, Bookshop

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February 18 – Elizabeth McKenna – Author – SPOTLIGHT

February 19 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – SPOTLIGHT

February 20 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

February 20 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – REVIEW*

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February 24 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

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Haunted By A Broken Oath By Dee Armstrong ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: February 26, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, thriller
Tags: , , ,
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Haunted by a Broken Oath by Dee Armstrong Banner

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HAUNTED BY A BROKEN OATH
by Dee Armstrong
February 2 – March 13, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A JD WOLFE INVESTIGATION

 

When a hero dies and children vanish, PI JD Wolfe must confront a deadly conspiracy–and the ghost that’s haunted her since childhood.

A decorated military hero is found hanging from a rope. Two young boys vanish without a trace. And private investigator JD Wolfe’s world begins to unravel. The deeper she digs, the closer the danger creeps–not just to her, but to the family that saved her and the career that keeps her sane. JD knows these crimes aren’t random. They’re a message. And she might be the target. Once called Diamond in a grim orphanage, the Wolfe family adopted JD, but she’s never felt like she truly belonged. She harbors secrets too dark to speak. Secrets that landed her in an asylum. Secrets tied to a ghost that’s haunted her since the night her mother died in a fire. This ghost doesn’t sleep. It invades JD’s cases, her dreams, and even her heart. She’s kept it buried for years. But now, with lives on the line, JD must do the unthinkable. She must let the ghost in.

Praise for Haunted by a Broken Oath:

“Meet JD Wolfe—a tough, smart, quirky PI with special skills and a meddling ghost in tow. Buckle up for a wild ride!” ~ DP Lyle, Award-Winning Author of the Jake Longly and Cain/Harper Thriller Series and Co-Creator of the Outliers Writing University “Dee Armstrong is a refreshing new voice in action thrillers. Her new novel is packed with gut-gripping suspense, peppered with witty quips that had me chuckling, while her plot twists had me biting back a scream. Blazing brilliant!” ~ Kathleen Baldwin, Wall Street Journal and #1 Barnes & Noble bestselling author of A School for Unusual Girls “Haunted By A Broken Oath will grip you from the very first page and linger in your mind long after the last. Armstrong’s strong voice and resonant characters make this an unforgettable read.” ~ Kathleen Antrim, Bestselling Author “A highly eventful but fast-paced supernatural thriller.” ~ Kirkus Reviews

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Book Details:

Genre: Thriller with a touch of paranormal

Published by: Outliers Press . Suspense Publishing Publication Date: November 11, 2025 Number of Pages: 424 ISBN: 9798999682994 (Paperback) Series: A JD Wolfe Investigation, Book 1

Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Chapter 1
The first rule on my “JD Wolfe’s Survival List” was: Don’t trust the ghost, because she couldn’t leave anything alone. Not when you were awake, not when you were asleep, not when she was haunting you. Not when the only surprise you received for your eighth birthday, other than the death of your mom in a fire, was for the ghost who had tormented her to transfer that torment to you. And torment you forever. During the thirteen years since the fire, I went from homeless to orphan to private eye. I reinvented myself. I became stronger. When life comes at you, and you have no one to protect you, and flight isn’t an option, you either fight or surrender. I chose fight. I took my adopted family’s surname and changed my name from Diamond, the girl with no last name, to Justyne Diamond Wolfe, or JD for short. I haven’t forgotten my survival rules. I’ve added more to the list. Past midnight, I sat hunched at the counter, scrolling through my phone in one of those diners you see in the movies with wide windows, cushy booths, a long counter, and pictures of All American Little League baseball teams lining the walls. You’d expect to see couples snuggled in the booths and a clean-cut, milkshake melt-in-your-mouth kind of guy in a starched button-down shirt. Instead, I was alone with Creepy Diner Guy working the counter. His hair slicked back, his shirt a stain-spattered rendering of a Jackson Pollock painting, his buttons playing hopscotch, missing every other hole. He wiped a dirty rag around a glass jar with a MISSING flier taped to the front. A pretty, fresh-faced, school-age girl smiled for the camera wearing decades-old clothes and a Hello Kitty backpack. The change and dollar bills stuffed into the jar suggested hope was still alive. I wasn’t so sure. In my experience, hope was for suckers. “Get you another coffee, Red?” His nasty meth-smile busted and blackened. “Still struggling with this one.” I swirled the sludge he called coffee in the bottom of my cup. It had created a tar pit inside my gut. I decided to check in with the office before the coffee killed me. On the stool at my nine, a ball of light appeared. Flickered. Sparked in shades between blue, violet and eye-piercing white. The air snapped. The skin on my arms tingled and puckered like a plucked goose’s butt. The light shifted from a pixelated pattern into a semi-transparent woman, all monochromatic shades of gray. Stringy hair stuck to her face, hiding her features. Only her silver eyes and charcoal lips showed through. A dingy nightgown hung from her shoulders and fluttered in shreds around her bare feet. Home, home, home, the ghost whispered in my brain, where the thoughts were supposed to be mine, not hers. One of many things about the Woman that ticked me off. Most people would call the ghost a spirit or specter, but I preferred “the Woman.” Or “Bitch.” Instead of playing patty-cake and singing nursery rhymes, I learned how to survive living with a not-so-dearly departed. I didn’t care how she died, only that she stuck to my mom like a nasty rash. The second rule I learned? Never tell anyone about the ghost. Otherwise, they’ll think you’re crazy and lock you up. Creepy Diner Guy didn’t react to his supernatural guest. He walked past and wiped down tables. That didn’t shock me. My mom had been the only other living person I’d known who could see or hear or smell the Woman. Even when the Woman didn’t appear, she watched. Listened. Waited for a way to interfere. It was inevitable. I lived with the dead. An overwhelming smell of lavender clung to the Woman. I gagged on the disgusting sweetness. My hand tugged at the collar of my leather jacket and the t-shirt beneath. “Why can’t you give me one day?” I whispered. “One day without your lavender scent up my nose, your annoying voice blabbing in my head, your bony butt blocking my way?” S-s-sorry, s-s-sorry, sorry, she repeated. “Yeah, right. If you were sorry, you’d go back to hell.” La-la-late. The staccato beat of her words pounded against my temples. As if the ghost cared if she didn’t get forty winks. “I’m on a job. Go away.” I worked in the family’s business, White Wolfe Investigations. Today’s job was more of a payback than a paycheck. My adopted father, Milt Wolfe—whom I liked to call Fixer Geezer in my head—owed a lifelong favor to his old Navy buddy, Master Chief Ben Palmer. I didn’t know why Master Chief had bought a 24-hour diner right off I-95. Senile? Maybe. This kind of debt could never be paid off. How could you put a price on someone saving your life? I understood Milt’s orders: Sit tight. Observe and report. Master Chief thought Creepy Diner Guy volunteered for the night shift to make money on the shady side of life—the side where things slip from white-lie gray to back-alley black; the side where cops close your restaurant and cart you off to jail. My phone buzzed. No doubt it was one of the Geezers. Two brothers I considered my real fathers, and my bosses. “Sweet cheeks, I’ll be home soon.” “Sweet cheeks?” Their voices blended into one. They’d put me on speakerphone. Great. Two opinionated, life-controlling Geezers for the price of one. I couldn’t bring myself to call Milt anything like Dad or Daddy or Pop. Some things took time and a barge load of counseling. “Is everything okay, Sweet Cheeks?” “Has he passed any packages? Drugs? Money?” Cliff Wolfe, a.k.a. Smarty Pants Geezer and my adopted uncle, was super stinkin’ smart. The type of smart that could send a rocket to the moon but not close the refrigerator door. “Nope. Only coffee.” I ignored the ghost and monitored Creepy Diner Guy. He picked at a stain on his shirt and popped something into his mouth. My stomach revolted. “Stolen anything?” Street smart and straight to the point, Milt didn’t waste words. “Nope. Nada. Not cash from the till or a quarter from the floor.” “Be smart.” Uncle Cliff’s voice geared into lecture mode. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be smart.” “Don’t approach anyone. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Get the intel. Get home. You’re more important than a favor.” Milt, the man who fixed everything with what he had on hand, even if it was only his brute strength or a rubber band, sounded as strong and sure as the day he saved me from St. Francis’ Group Home for Lost Souls. A fancy name for an orphanage. People rebrand and rename. It’s all the same. Group home or orphanage. I preferred orphanage. Or St. Francis’ Hell Hole. The name didn’t catch on. “Pleeease.” Unwanted emotions compressed my chest. I struggled to remain in character. “I know better than to talk to strangers.” “She can handle this.” The rise in Cliff’s voice vetoed any worry. Creepy Diner Guy inched closer with each swipe of his rag. Unsure what he could hear, I kept my words soft. “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl.” The Woman leaned in. I leaned away, checking the diner’s clock. “It’s past midnight. Do you need me home?” “A few more hours. Nothing good happens between midnight and three,” said Cliff. “I don’t like her on her own.” Concern lined the deep timbre of Milt’s voice. “We’ll meet you there. Follow orders and stay safe.” My face burned solar-flare hot. He didn’t trust me. How could I prove myself if he didn’t give me a chance? “Sheesh. You don’t need to pick me up. I can drive home. I’m not eleven anymore.” Back ramrod-straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, the Woman disapproved of my tone. You’d think after decades of death, she’d have pulled the sequoia-sized stick out of her spectral butt. “It’s been a long time since you lived on the streets.” Milt shouted into the speakerphone. Technology wasn’t one of his strengths. “Sweet cheeks, don’t yell.” A sick part of me enjoyed the charade. “I can hear you.” My gaze flickered to Creepy Diner Guy, and I clicked down the volume on my phone. “It’s a cellphone, not a handheld radio.” “Milt’s right. We shouldn’t have sent you in alone.” Cliff’s words rose decibels higher than his brother’s. They’d joined forces and wanted to pull the plug on my mission. I couldn’t let that happen. “I’m okay.” I kept my voice light and confident. To ease their angst, I added a hint of humor. “Worrying is only going to make you grayer.” By age seven, I’d mastered controlling my voice to manipulate adults. That was how you survived when you were the proxy adult because your mom had surrendered to another drug-enhanced dream. Bored with our conversation, the Woman hummed a song—not a pop or a rap or a country song, but that lullaby. I rubbed my temples, biting my tongue to prevent myself from begging her to stop. “Keep us posted.” Milt barked out the order as if I was a newbie boot on his ship. I suppressed an aye, aye, Sir, and replied, “Be home soon.” I hung up and glared at the Woman. “Don’t you start.” The Woman switched to a jazzy tune. I passed the time naming the stains on Creepy Diner Guy’s shirt. Red—ketchup. Yellow—mustard. There was a slick of brown across his midriff. Grease? Gravy? The coffee pit in my belly bubbled. I didn’t want to know. He shuffled into the back and returned with a plate stacked high with raw hamburger patties and a bag of frozen fries. He tossed the meat on the grill, dumped the fries into a basket, lowered them into grease, and wiped the grill’s metal front with his rag. In the mirror above the grills, I scanned the parking lot behind me through the diner’s gigantic windows. Empty except for my Jeep. Through the same mirror, Creepy Diner Guy gave me a hey-baby-I’m-the-answer-to-your-prayers look. I shot back a don’t-make-me-shove-that-rag-down-your-throat glare. The ghost’s laughter rang in my head. A girly giggle slipped from my throat before I could kill it. Creepy Diner Guy flipped the hamburgers. He turned, wiping his hands down his shirt. “Waiting for a boyfriend?” “Expecting a midnight rush?” I countered. The meat smelled a little off, or maybe the nauseous odor came from him. “Nonya.” Was that code for something? “Nonya?” “None ya business.” His shrill laugh shredded my eardrums. He planted his elbows on the counter and leaned in. “Lived in Rubyville long?” His lunch haunted his breath. Hamburger with extra onions. Home, home, home. “Kinda,” I replied with my own one-word cryptic answer and snubbed the ghost. Home, Home, HOME. The Woman didn’t like to be left out or ignored. The longer it went, the more insistent she’d become. At least her humming stopped. Creepy Diner Guy turned back to the grill, removed the hamburgers, and lifted the basket of fries from the grease. He came around the counter. Sat on a ripped vinyl stool, sandwiched me between his onion breath and the Woman’s putrid potpourri. He leaned close. “I like green eyes and red hair. You look real good in black.” As if I cared what he thought. Shades from onyx to ebony filled ninety percent of my wardrobe. My leather jacket and knee-high boots fell comfortably in the range. Black was easy to accessorize. It went with more black. “Uh-huh. Thanks.” Truck pipes rumbled. I checked the parking lot in the mirror. A baby-blue, nineteen-eighty-two Ford parked out front. I’d love to have a truck like that. All shiny and clean. Home, Home, Home. I raised my phone as a shield between his breath and me. I texted the Geezers: Got movement, adding the truck’s description and license plate number. In a low voice, I told the Woman, “Hit the bricks.” “No need to be like that. I’m not going to hurt you,” Creepy Diner Guy replied, his tone operator-smooth. He rubbed a piece of my hair between his fingers. My hair. “Red’s my favorite color.” My muscles tensed. One swift back fist. That’s all it would take. He could add fresh blood to the stains on his shirt. Bright red would enhance his color palette. Besides, red was his favorite. But I was on a job. A job I couldn’t mess up by spilling his blood. “Don’t you have more burgers to flip? Potatoes to peel?” “You wanna peel my potato?” The coffee tar backed up into my throat. Leaning into my third rule—keep everything important safe in your boots and everything important will keep you safe—I palmed the knife from my boot and showed him the blade. “I can peel more than that. Wanna play?” Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, the Woman chanted. The lights in the diner flashed. I slid the blade of my knife against his jaw, giving him a free shave. “You’re not really bad, are you?” The diner’s door opened. I shifted, keeping my back between the door and the knife. No need to frighten a customer or warn off the pick-up guy. Creepy Diner Guy’s face turned morgue gray. Scared stiff worked for him. He scrambled backward, helter-skelter, and side slipped from the stool. “That’s what I thought.” I lowered my knife. Like a buck caught in the crosshairs, he froze. A tsunami of fear flowed over his face. He gazed over my head. Neither my blade nor the Woman caused his locked stare. Someone scarier than a knife to his throat stood behind me. Dread dripped down my backbone like bacon grease from a hot pan, setting my nerves on fire. I tucked my chin and snuck a peek over my shoulder. Scary didn’t do the guy justice. He was a mashup of Godzilla and King Kong—butt ugly and horribly wrong. A massive neck—a monster mama would be proud of—steel-studded earlobes, his hair spiky and nuclear green. He’d claimed this cement jungle and declared himself king. And I? I was the bug in his way. But I wasn’t Diamond, the girl with no last name, anymore. I was JD Wolfe, Private Eye. *** Excerpt from Haunted by a Broken Oath by Dee Armstrong. Copyright 2025 by Dee Armstrong. Reproduced with permission from Dee Armstrong. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

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MY REVIEW

It’s exciting to try a new author. I’d not read anything by Dee Armstrong before. I do like private investigator stories. Sleuthing is fun to do while I’m reading. A female protagonist also interests me. I got both in PI JD Wolfe.

JD had a lot of baggage. She wore some of it like armor. Aggressive and impulsive. She grew on me. I enjoyed how she tagged people. Godzilla Kong and Creepy Diner Guy. The names fit. She even had one for the ghost who’d been haunting her ever since her mother’s death. She called her the Woman.

JD had to finally accept the Woman wasn’t going away and actually started to prove useful. It’s intriguing to think of a ghost as being kind of a friend. Not sure I’d want that for myself though.

As JD got deeper into the investigation, it almost felt like the Wild West. There were some very quirky characters. Some were quite dangerous. It had an air of lawlessness. That sure added to the action and suspense.

 I’ve become a fan of JD and the Woman and want to read more about them. I had a lot of fun and sure hope this is part of a series.

4 STARS

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About Author Dee Armstrong:

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Dee Armstrong

Dee Armstrong writes thrillers and romantic suspense with a paranormal twist — stories that squeeze the heart, rattle the nerves, and still leave room for love, laughter, and sass. She pits tough heroines against bad guys you’ll love to hate — with twists that keep the pages flying and endings that fight for hope. A former U.S. Air Force Russian linguist and three-time Taekwondo Black Belt National Sparring Champion, Dee believes the vulnerable should be protected and justice must be fierce—because the past never stays buried, and the truth never sleeps. When she’s not writing about danger and desire, Dee is chasing after her littles, sipping tea on the porch, and plotting against the weeds in her garden. Find her on social @DeeArmstrongAuthor for sneak peeks, behind-the-scenes chaos, and stories that leave a fingerprint on your heart.

Catch Up With Dee Armstrong:

DeeArmstrong.com Dee Armstrong’s Newsletter Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @DeeArmstrong Instagram – @dee_armstrong_author X – @deearmstrongbks Facebook – @DeeArmstrongAuthor YouTube – @DeeArmstrongAuthor TikTok – @DeeArmstrongAuthor Pinterest – @DeeArmstrongAuthor

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Love Mystery & Suspense? Celebrate Haunted by a Broken Oath with a Gift Card Giveaway!
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Dee Armstrong. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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Bait The Devil By Winter Austin ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: February 16, 2026 in giveaways, thriller, Trailer, Western
Tags: , , ,
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Bait the Devil by Winter Austin Banner

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BAIT THE DEVIL
by Winter Austin
February 2 – March 13, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A BOUNTY OF SHADOWS

 

In bounty hunting, clean jobs are a myth. Dot knows—she’s seen the blood.

Dot Ybarra doesn’t bluff. Fresh into her bounty hunting career, she’s already earning a reputation for results. But when a “routine” rogue bounty—taken as a favor to her lawyer cousin—turns lethal, she’s staring down a case with international reach, bodies in its wake, and the stench of power. Her business partner, T.J. Roman, is hiding a secret. If Dot finds out … well, she can’t find out. It would end the effective partnership they’ve built. But the trail won’t wait. What should have been a clean pickup of a fellow military veteran spirals into a hunt through the shadows, where one wrong move could see them both buried in an unmarked grave. To stop the predators at the center of a violent trafficking ring, they’ll have to go straight into its core—and make themselves the bait. Every step makes them vulnerable to each other as well. The devil’s coming for them. Dot plans to be the one still standing after he bites.

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Bait the Devil Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Modern Western Thriller

Published by: Tule Mystery Publication Date: January 19, 2026 Number of Pages: 285 ISBN: 9781969218651 (ISBN10: 1969218657) Series: A BOUNTY OF SHADOWS, Book 2 {Amazon, Tule}

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | Apple Books | Goodreads | BookBub | Tule Mystery

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Enjoy this peek inside:
From Chapter 1
Two hours later, they had managed to corral the quickly sobering Freddy into the back of the Suburban, with no more eventful chases, and turn him over to the county jail. Freddy’s bail bondsman paid out their fair share of the bond and a huge tip after some hard pressing on T.J.’s part about the circumstances leading up to Freddy’s apprehension. Once the check was cashed, a celebratory late lunch at one of the best Basque eateries Dot had found in Boise was the best way to top off a successful day of bounty hunting. Parked behind the Bar Gernika, she and T.J. sat in the back end of the Chevy Suburban with the hatch up eating chorizo sandwiches with smoked cod croquetas and a bowl of green olives dripping in garlic olive oil. Dot slurped down half of her Coke, then shook the ice in her cup. T.J. pointed the remains of his smoked beef chorizo at her. “We should register for the SHOT show in Vegas.” “Why?” “Because we can.” T.J. pulled his duh face. Dot rolled her eyes and bit into her sandwich. “Have you ever been there?” T.J. asked. She shook her head, wiping smokey chorizo juice from the corner of her mouth. “The woman raised to be a hunter and a firearms collector has never been to the great SHOT show?” He lowered his reflective sunglasses and eyed her over the top of the rims. “Never?” “You do realize my family wasn’t made of money.” Dot popped one of the croquetas into her mouth. “And that’s in the dead of winter, when we couldn’t just up and run off while we were in the middle of lambing season.” “All the more reason you should go now.” T.J. grinned. “A lot of the best bounty hunters meet up there.” Dot scowled at her partner and sometimes bunk buddy. “Lemme guess. You wanna show off your shiny new partner to the boys?” “Maybe.” His grin turned devilish. “Or maybe I wanna see you kick their asses.” Dot wadded up the sandwich wrapper and chucked it at T.J.’s head. “I’m not a toy.” The crumbled ball of waxed paper bounced off his forehead and landed on the Suburban floor between them. “Really? Then why are you so easy to wind up?” “You sonofa—” Dot lunged for his throat but was quickly subdued. Their moment of levity was interrupted by a shrill ring from T.J.’s phone. “Damn it,” he snapped and patted down his body in search for his cell. Dot found it lying on the makeshift floor behind his hulking frame. She snatched it up and checked the screen. She batted her eyelashes at T.J. “Don’t you dare,” he snarled. She pressed the green icon to answer the call. “Well, hello, cousin dearest.” Lawyer-extraordinaire and covert purveyor of information, Vivian Montgomery was Dot’s second cousin. And apparently had earned a spot on T.J.’s contact list under the moniker of Hot Ass Lawyer. “Dot? When did you start taking business calls?” Vivian asked, her brisk tone underscored by the sound of her heavy breathing. “What are you doing?” Dot asked. “You sound like you’re saving the horse and riding a cowboy.” “Oh, grow up. I’m on a treadmill. Put T.J. on the phone.” “You shouldn’t run on those things. They destroy your knees and back,” Dot chided. “When I want health advice from a cigar smoker who jumps from helicopters for fun, I’ll call.” “I don’t jump from the helo. Unless it’s crashing. Even then, that’s sketchy shit.” T.J., giving a rumbling growl, jerked the phone from Dot, and pressed it to his ear. “Vivian, what do you need?” He waited a moment, then with another low growl, pulled the phone from his ear and put it on speaker. “You’re on speaker.” “I need a huge favor from the two of you.” “When you say huge favor, how huge are we talking?” Dot asked. “You know, I think I liked you better when you were a brooding, isolated eremite whose main goal in life was equal parts trying to piss off her mother and keep her out of trouble,” Vivian shot back. “Love you too, coz.” “Now shut up and let me finish.” The whining sound of the treadmill belt slowing echoed over the phone connection. “I just got a call from one of my colleagues. She had a client fail to appear today.” “Shouldn’t the defendant’s bail bondsman be calling us?” T.J. asked. “It’s … complicated.” Dot smiled as T.J. groaned. “Vivian, every time you rope us into one of your firm’s problems with their unruly children, we’re out money, time, and patience. We’re called bounty hunters for a reason. Bounty is in the name.” “Roman, if you keep up the condescending behavior, I’ll expose your dirty little secret.” “Dirty secret, huh,” Dot piped in. “What’s that?” He thrust a finger at her nose. “None of your business. Vivian, if you so much as breathe out of line, I’ll make you regret it.” “Will you do me the favor?” T.J. stared at Dot, who shrugged as if to say, Why not? “Fine. Mark my words, I’ll be cashing in on this huge favor sooner than you think.” “I wouldn’t have bothered you with this, expect the guy is a veteran, and you two being veterans yourself, I figured he’d be more likely to work with you than anyone else.” “What’s on his file?” Dot asked. “That’s the complicated part. Officially, his file says he was picked up a third time for carrying with the intent to sell. Unofficially, he’s … classified.” Dot frowned as she and T.J. locked eyes. As a former army ranger who spent a lot of time flying in and out of forward operating bases in Afghanistan, T.J. knew all about classified situations. Dot, as the main helicopter pilot shuttling him and his team back and forth, though never read in on his actual missions, typically was under strict orders of her own. “Vivian, I’m not getting fuzzy feelings about this,” T.J. said. “Neither am I. It’s why I’m calling the two of you in. The judge wants to issue a bench warrant. My colleague was able to ask for a delay before it’s submitted. She was given three hours to present her client or the warrant is released. If you’d rather, you could consider this job PI work instead of fugitive recovery.” The shingle hanging outside their business office did say private investigators. At this point, that title belonged to T.J. and T.J. alone. “Still not selling me on this,” he said. “If there’s no bench warrant, there’s no cash for catching him.” “Hang on.” Vivian spoke to someone, her voice muffled, then she was back. “The firm will pay you a finder’s fee.” T.J. continued to stare at Dot. She could sense what he was thinking. He was torn. Take this off-the-cuff job and cash in on the favor department with Vivian to help a fellow veteran? Or say fuck it and play hooky for the rest of the day like he’d planned? Dot didn’t really have much of a say in the business dealings of their partnership since she was eight months into the training phase as a fugitive recovery agent and she wasn’t a licensed PI. It didn’t stop T.J. from pressing her for her opinion, who argued that, because she was about to start taking bounties on her own, she needed to take the reins more often. “If it helps you make a decision, I’ve got his last known address and a phone number along with a photo,” Vivian said. “This won’t be a hard catch.” “Stop saying that. Every time you tell me it’s an easy one, it turns into a disaster,” T.J. snarled. “He’s right,” Dot added. “Okay, I retract my statement. But, please say yes. Huge favor to me. I’ll do anything.” “Anything?” Dot glared at him. “Within reason,” Vivian shot back. “We’ll do it,” Dot said, tired of T.J.’s runaround. “Send us the four-one-one, and we’ll go check it out.” T.J. glared at her; his dark eyes flashed a warning. Dot returned his glare with a smug look of her own that dared him to bring it. “Thank you, coz. Hurry. There’s only two hours left before the bench warrant goes out. Then it’ll be a free-for-all.” “You couldn’t have called us about this an hour ago?” T.J. groused. “Shut your yap, Roman,” Vivian said. “There. Info sent.” His phone dinged. “His name is Cade Porter. He was a staff sergeant in the Marine Corps.” Vivian sucked in a breath. “Oooh.” “Oooh, what?” T.J. insisted. “If this is right, he was in an artillery unit.” “Oh my God.” T.J. groaned. Dot grinned. Not only did acting on a favor for Vivian chafe T.J. in the chaps, but doing it for a Marine with explosives expertise was going to make that chafe burn. Throughout their long, storied history, there had always been a deep-seated friendly animosity between the army and the Marines. Push came to shove, however, they still had each other’s backs. “If that crayon eater blows us up, I’m going to haunt you,” he said. “I look forward to the visits. Now get going.” Vivian ended the call. T.J. shoved his phone in a side pocket of his cargo pants. “Tell me again why we let Vivian help us out?” “Because,” Dot said as she scooted out of the SUV’s backend, “she’s good for the money. And I trust her intel more than I would some of your bail bondsmen.” “You say that because you’re biased.” “Nire familia da. Garrantzitsua da.” T.J. paused before closing the hatch. “I speak Pashto, Arabic, some Spanish, and Oklahoman. I do not speak Basque.” Dot chuckled. “Time to learn, Danger Ranger.” “Load up and let’s roll.” *** Excerpt from Bait the Devil by Winter Austin. Copyright 2026 by Winter Austin. Reproduced with permission from Winter Austin. All rights reserved.

 

 

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About Author Winter Austin:

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Winter Austin

Winter Austin perpetually answers the question: “were you born in the winter?” with a flat “nope,” but believe her, there is a story behind her name. A lifelong Mid-West gal with strong ties to the agriculture world, Winter grew up listening to the captivating stories told by relatives around a table or a campfire. As a published author, she learned her glass half-empty personality makes for a perfect suspense/thriller writer. Taking her ability to verbally spin a vivid and detailed story, Winter translated that into writing deadly romantic suspense, mysteries, and thrillers. When she’s not slaving away at the computer, you can find Winter supporting her daughter in cattle shows, seeing her three sons off into the wide-wide world, loving on her fur babies, prodding her teacher husband, and nagging at her flock of hens to stay in the coop or the dogs will get them. She is the author of multiple novels.

Catch Up With Winter Austin:

AuthorWinterAustin.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @WinterAustin Instagram – @iasuspensewriter Facebook – @author.winteraustin

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