Magic of the Gargoyles by Rebecca Chastain #coverreveal #giveaway

I’ve got an awesome cover reveal to share and Rebecca is kindly offering a giveaway as well. This book sounds brilliant and right now with a preorder you can get a copy for half price at 99c. The release date is the 20th when the price increases to $1.99 The giveaway for the book is open internationally and is for an ebook copy.



Someone has kidnapped a nest of helpless baby gargoyles and is using them as pentagram focuses, devouring their magic—and their lives—for a horrific, illegal power boost. Swept into the dangerous underworld of black magic, Mika Stillwater must cobble together her limited resources and skills to have a chance at being the hero the baby gargoyles desperately need. If she fails, the city will be at the mercy of the gargoyles’ murderers and their overwhelming destructive magic.

But pitting herself against powerful black-magic villains is proving just as deadly for Mika as for the gargoyles.

Preorder – US | Canada | Australia | UK

MOG quote 2

Rebecca Chastain is the internationally selling author A Fistful of Evil, an urban fantasy novel. She has found seven four-leaf clovers to date, won a purebred Arabian horse in a drawing, and once tamed a blackbird for a day. She has been employed as a VHS sales clerk, bookshelf straightener, government pseudo-employee, professional finder of lost sporting goods, and strategy guide wrangler in the video game industry. Dreaming up the absurd and writing stories designed to amuse and entertain has been her passion since she was eleven years old, and she’s incapable of stopping. She lives in northern California with her wonderful husband and two bossy cats. To be the first to know about new releases, sales, and freebies, sign up for Rebecca’s newsletter:

Rebecca can be found online at – Web Site | Blog | Goodreads | Facebook

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The Girl in 6E by A.R. Torre #review

The Girl in 6E


I haven’t touched a human in three years. That seems like it would be a difficult task, but it’s not. Not anymore, thanks to the internet.

I am, quite possibly, the most popular recluse ever. Not many shut-ins have a 200-member fan club, a bank account in the seven-figure range, and hundreds of men lining up to pay for undivided attention.

They get satisfaction, I get a distraction. Their secret desires are nothing compared to why I hide… my lust for blood, my love of death.

Taking their money is easy. Keeping all these secrets… one is bound to escape.

What if you hid yourself away because all you could think of was killing? And what if one girl’s life depending on you venturing into society?

Enter a world of lies, thrills, fears, and all desires, in this original thriller from A. R. Torre.


The Girl in 6E is a book I first saw it while out shopping, and though things are tight at the moment I so loved the blurb that I had to read it. Thank you library for having it available.

Deanna or Jessica as she’s better known is the most awesome character I’ve read in ages. Omg she is all that and a bag of chips. She has been avoiding contact with everyone for 3 years and using webcamming as a way to make a living. The reason she’s avoiding human contact is she wants to kill and kill and kill. What does one do when they have a thirst for death and bloodshed well apparently live quite the unique life and become a character that I so wanted to read about I didn’t want to put the book down. The author did an amazing job of creating her and the environment she lives in. She wants to kill meh we still cheer for her and want her to get it on with Jeremy her hot sexy delivery man who brings all the goods she orders to keep going while so isolated. Yes get it on, aside from murder there is sex in this book in such fascinating context I was enthralled. I can’t recommend this book enough, murder, mystery, mayhem, sex, and damn fine entertaining writing.

A fantastic find. A new fave author. Can’t wait to read more. Highly recommended.

Blond Cargo by John Lansing #bookblast #giveaway

Blond Cargo

by John Lansing

Visiting with the Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tour Company

Book Blast on October 7th

on Tour at October 8 – November 30, 2014

Blond Cargo by John Lansing | Coming Soon

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery/Thriller

Series: Jack Bertolino, 2nd

* Blond Cargo does include some graphic violence.

Published by: Karen Hunter

Publication Date: 10/20/2014

Number of Pages: 320

ISBN: 9781476795515

Purchase Links:



“A pulse-pounding thriller with a charming protagonist” (Kirkus Reviews), this gripping ebook continues the story that began in The Devil’s Necktie.

Jack Bertolino’s son, Chris, was the victim of a brutal murder attempt and Vincent Cardona, a mafia boss, provided information that helped Jack take down the perpetrator of the crime. Jack accepted the favor knowing there’d be blowback. In Blond Cargo the mobster’s daughter has gone missing and Cardona turned in his chit. Jack discovers that the young, blond, mafia princess has been kidnapped and imprisoned while rich, politically connected men negotiate her value as a sex slave.

A sizzling whodunit for fans of James Patterson and Patricia Cornwell, Blond Cargo taps into the real-life crime world to deliver a thrilling, action-packed story that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the explosive, unprecedented finale.


Read an excerpt:


Jack carried a Subway turkey sandwich, a tall unsweetened iced coffee, a bottle of water, and a smile as he keyed the security gate that led to the dock in Marina del Rey where his boat was moored. The marina was always quiet during the week. Just the way he liked it.

He stopped to admire his twenty-eight feet of heaven before stepping onto his boat’s transom and then . . .

“Yo, Mr. B.”

Jack never forgot a voice, which explained his reluctance to turn around.

“Yo, yo, Mr. B.”

Miserably persistent, Jack thought. He turned to face Peter Maniacci, who was dressed head-to-toe in black. With his outstretched arms draped over the chain-link fence, Peter looked like an Italian scarecrow. The black circles under his eyes belied his youth. The sharp points of his sideburns, his boots, and the .38 hanging lazily from a shoulder holster added menace to his goofy grin.

So close, Jack thought. His only worry that day had been whether to eat his sandwich dockside or out on the Pacific with a view of the Santa Monica Pier.

“How you doing, Peter?”

“How you doin’?”

Jack let out a labored sigh. “We could do this all day. What’s up?”

“That’s funny, Mr. B. How’s the boy? How’s his pitching arm?”

Jack’s face tightened. He wasn’t happy that Peter knew

any of his son’s particulars. When he didn’t answer, Peter continued.

“Hey, nice boat. I used to fish for fluke off the north shore. Long Island. I think I must be in the wrong business.”

“Count on it,” Jack said. “What can I do for you?”

“My boss was wondering if you could spare a few minutes of your time.”

As if on cue, a black Town Car materialized behind Peter and came to a smooth, silent stop. The car rose visibly when Peter’s boss, a thick, broad-shouldered man, stepped out of the rear seat.

Vincent Cardona. Expensive suit, the body of a defensive linebacker—fleshy but muscled. Dark, penetrating eyes. Cardona looked in both directions before leveling his feral gaze on Jack. An attempt at a smile fell short of the mark. A thick manila envelope was tucked under one beefy arm.

Jack had been aware there would be some form of payback due for information Cardona had provided on Arturo Delgado, the man responsible for the attempted murder of his son. He just didn’t think it would come due this quickly. He opened the locked gate and let the big man follow him down the dock toward his used Cutwater cabin cruiser.

As Peter stood sentry in front of the Lincoln Town Car, Jack allowed the devil entry to his little piece of paradise.

“How’s your boy? How’s the pitching arm?” Vincent asked bluntly. Just a reminder of why he was there.

“On the mend.” Jack gestured to one of two canvas deck chairs in the open cockpit of the boat. Both men sat in silence as Jack waited for Cardona to explain the reason for his visit.

Jack wasn’t comfortable with Cardona’s talking about Chris, but the big man had taken it upon himself to station Peter outside Saint John’s Health Center while his son was drifting between life and death. Cardona’s enforcer had scared off Delgado, and that might have saved his son’s life. The unsolicited good deed was greatly appreciated by Jack. The debt weighed heavily.

“It rips your heart out when your children have problems and you can’t do nothing to help,” Cardona said with the raspy wheeze of a man who had abused cigars, drugs, booze, and fatty sausage for most of his life.

“What can I do for you?” Jack asked, not wanting to prolong the impromptu meeting.

Cardona, unfazed by Jack’s brusqueness, answered by pulling out a picture and handing it to Jack.

“Angelica Marie Cardona. She’s my girl. My only. My angel. Her mother died giving birth. I didn’t have the heart to re-up. I raised her by myself.”

Mobster with a heart of gold. Right, Jack thought. But Cardona’s wife must have been a stunner because Angelica, blond, early twenties, with flawless skin and gray-green eyes, didn’t get her good looks from her father. Cardona’s gift was her self-assured attitude, which all but leaped off the photograph.


Jack Bertolino, master of the understatement, he thought.

“And doesn’t she know it. Too much so for her own good. You make mistakes, my line of business. Whatever.”

“What can I do for you, Vincent?” Jack said, dialing back the attitude.

Cardona tracked a seagull soaring overhead with his heavy-lidded eyes and rubbed the stubble on his jaw.

Jack would have paid good money to change places with the gull.

“I shoulda never moved out here. L.A. I’m a black-socks- on-the-beach kinda guy. East Coast all the way. Never fit in. But I’m a good earner and the powers that be decided they were happy with the arrangement. Everyone was happy except Angelica and me.

“She turned thirteen, didn’t wanna have nothing to do with her old man. Turned iceberg cold. I tried everything— private schools, horses, ballet, therapy, live-in help; nothin’ worked. She closed up tighter than a drum. I finally threatened to send her to the nuns.”

“How did that work out?”

“I’m fuckin’ sitting here, aren’t I? On this fuckin’ dinghy . . . no offense meant,” he said, trying to cover, but the flash of anger told the real story. “I hear you’re an independent contractor now.”

It was Tommy Aronsohn, his old friend and ex–district attorney, who had set him up with his PI’s license and first client, Lawrence Weller and NCI Corp. But Jack Bertolino and Associates, Private Investigation, still didn’t come trippingly off his tongue.

And thinking of the disaster up north, he said, “We’ll see how that goes.”

“This is the point. I haven’t seen my daughter in close to a month. Haven’t heard word one since around the time your son was laid up in Saint John’s,” he said. Reminder number two. “It’s killing me,” he continued. “I’m getting a fuckin’ ulcer. Then this.”

Cardona pulled out the L.A. Times with the front-page spread reporting on the woman who had died when her boat crashed on the rocks at Paradise Cove. As it turned out, a second woman down in Orange County had washed up on the beach a few weeks earlier at the Terranea resort, scaring the joy out of newlyweds taking photos at sunset. Talk about twisted memories, Jack thought. As if marriage wasn’t tough enough. He’d already read both articles with his morning coffee and hadn’t bought into the pattern the reporter inferred.

“And the connection?”

“I got a bad feeling is all. She’s never disappeared like this before—not for this long anyway,” he said, amending his statement. “And then . . .” Cardona said, waving the newspaper like it was on fire. “It says here they were both blonds. Both about Angelica’s age. They could be fuckin’ cousins. Could be nothing.”

“Did you file a missing-persons report?”

Cardona gave him a hard side eye. “Jack, don’t fuck with me. We take care of our own.”

Jack thought before he spoke. “I’m not one of yours.”


“What about your crew?”

Cardona flopped open his meaty hands. “I get angina, I don’t call my cousin Frankie, who has a certain skill set but stinks when it comes to open-heart surgery. Look, I get it. You were on the other team. But this is straight-up business. One man to another. One father to another. I need you to find my girl. You got my number. Use it, Jack. Money’s no object. Find my baby.”

Strike three.

Jack didn’t answer. He stared out at the navy-blue water of the marina, past row upon row of beautiful yachts, symbols of dreams fulfilled, and knew they were empty notions compared to family.

Cardona hadn’t actually spoken the words you owe me, but they filled the subtext of everything he’d said. He was not subtle. The big man had reached out when Jack was in need, and Jack had accepted the offer. Now Vincent Cardona wanted his pound of flesh.

“This is everything I know. Last address, phone numbers, phone bills, e-mail accounts, bank, credit cards, friends and whatnot. The whole shot,” Cardona said, holding the manila envelope out in Jack’s direction.

“I have other commitments,” Jack stated.

“You look real fuckin’ busy, Jack, if you don’t mind my sayin’.” His eyes crinkled into a sarcastic grin. Vincent Cardona does charm.

Jack accepted the overstuffed envelope with a sigh.

“If she don’t want to come back, fine. No funny business, no strong-arm bullshit from my end. You got my word. I just need to know that my blood is alive. I’m fuckin’ worried and I don’t do worry too good. Sleep on it, Jack. But do the right thing.”

Cardona’s eyes locked on to Jack’s. Jack remained silent. He’d take a look. No promises, not yet.

Vincent’s knees cracked and the canvas chair squeaked like it was in pain as he stood up. He covered a belch behind his fist and rubbed his gut as he moved stiffly past Jack. The boat rocked when Cardona stepped off and walked heavily away, his Italian leather shoes echoing on the wooden dock.

The weight of the world. Jack could relate.

Peter Maniacci opened the gate for his boss and then the door to the Lincoln Town Car, which plunged to curb level as the big man slid in. Peter ran around to the other side of the car and tossed Jack a wave like the queen mum. He jumped into the Lincoln, which lurched forward before Peter could slam the door shut.

Jack walked into the boat’s deckhouse, grabbed a bottle of water, and downed two more Excedrin. He stretched his back, which was going into a spasm from yesterday’s violence, and chased the pills with a Vicodin to stay one step ahead of the pain that he knew was headed his way.

Jack had already decided to take the case.


Author Bio:

John Lansing started his career as an actor in New York City. He spent a year at the Royale Theatre playing the lead in the Broadway production of “Grease.” He then landed a co-starring role in George Lucas’ “More American Graffiti,” and guest-starred on numerous television shows. During his fifteen-year writing career, Lansing wrote and produced “Walker Texas Ranger,” co-wrote two CBS Movies of the Week, and he also co-executive produced the ABC series “Scoundrels.” John’s first book was “Good Cop, Bad Money,” a true crime tome with former NYPD Inspector Glen Morisano. “The Devil’s Necktie” was his first novel. “Blond Cargo” is the next book in the Jack Bertolino series. A native of Long Island, John now resides in Los Angeles.

Catch Up With the Author:


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Get Your Copy of Blond Cargo by John Lansing in the Giveaway:

Open from 10/7/2014 – 12/1/2014

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Life After Life by Kate Atkinson #review


What if you had the chance to live your life again and again, until you finally got it right?

During a snowstorm in England in 1910, a baby is born and dies before she can take her first breath.

During a snowstorm in England in 1910, the same baby is born and lives to tell the tale.

What if there were second chances? And third chances? In fact an infinite number of chances to live your life? Would you eventually be able to save the world from its own inevitable destiny? And would you even want to?

Life After Life follows Ursula Todd as she lives through the turbulent events of the last century again and again. With wit and compassion, she finds warmth even in life’s bleakest moments, and shows an extraordinary ability to evoke the past. Here is Kate Atkinson at her most profound and inventive, in a novel that celebrates the best and worst of ourselves

I thought this book sounded awesome and with all the hype around it I finally got to this one. I, knowing what I know now would probably not have read it. It’s not horrible don’t get me wrong it just wasn’t great and didn’t live up to the hubbub and that great blurb ohhh so cool sounding yeah it wasn’t all that. A girl dies during birth and a girl lives, she lives and dies and lives and dies. The character of Ursula is what kept me reading it, I liked her and wanted to find out how life turned out for her and that of her family. She died many times and some of the lives she lived well I hated what happened to her, how she was treated and because of that I had at least a couple moments of wanting to put the book down and not read it anymore.

When she was still a child and when she was a young woman I just thought you’ve got to be kidding me. Give her a break where is this going. Thats the problem I don’t think it went anywhere and considering how many options the author had on where to take the story it felt like it floundered. Because of the many lives she lived frequently I had no clue who characters were I would have thought because some were repeated it would be obvious but often it was lets just add a new person into the mix and it wasn’t clear and ugh I spent this time and could have been reading so many other books. Ursula was a nice woman and I had hoped for so much for her but the author didn’t seem to know what the hell to do with this storyline she’d created. The ending made me sit there going wtf was that.

Was it good? No parts were though, but is it worth reading just for those sections? I wouldn’t recommend this out of the so many other great reads that would be better choices.

I got my copy from the library. I will not be buying my own copy.

Books to Movie adaptions. The amazing & the horrendous #ABBLinkUp

I’ve recently read Gone Girl, go check out my review. This book for reasons that I can’t quite figure out has me curious about the movie adaption. Back when I read Enders Game which is a book that had me so emotionally attached I abhored the idea of a movie adaption. I refused to watch when my mother went out and bought the dvd, somehow I got roped into watching it when she saw it a second time and while it didn’t suck it was nowhere near the the books generation of profound and deeply moving feelings I had. I was so emotionally invested there, I hated the idea of someone messing with Ender and him not getting the on screen treatment he deserved. I’m not sure what that says about me but clearly some movie adaptions are okay while others fill us with dread.

Some movie adaptions however as rare as they may be trump the book. The only one that I can think of that fits that category is the Neverending Story. This one I saw as a child so many times it became part of my childhood and I can’t imagine not having grown up watching it over and over. As an adult I naively went and read the book thinking it couldn’t be worse that the book. I was wrong. The first half of the book actually was great. Such a pity I didn’t stop there. The second half was just crap. The author hated the adaption and I think because his work was greatly improved upon and the idea of this didn’t appeal. Well too bad the movie was better by far and reading the book is something I regret a great deal.

Some are even, Silence of the Lambs for example I think are right up there side by side with the movie perhaps being a bit ahead. Audition a Japanese horror adaption was I think better for the first three quarters of the book. The movie ending was oh so much better than the book though and I think because what was written while the same as in the movie seeing the ending visually just blew your mind.

What makes a good movie adaption? It’s hard to say really. Hollywood sure does like to use books I mean who wants an original idea that could go over well or fail epically. Hollywood doesn’t want to spend the money finding out its so much easier to see which books are huge and then go there.

The Hunger Games and sequel were pretty good. The Shining viewers loved, Steven King hates it.

John Carter got ripped a new one. I’ve only seen the movie so for me it was okay. Not sure where they spent all that money though.

Battlefield Earth anyone? I’ve never read the book and I’ve only seen snippets from flipping through channels of the movie but holy cow what epic suckage that is. Is the book worse? I don’t know and don’t plan to find out.

Some books are adapted well and some quite poorly. I’m not sure why Gone Girl is one that I’m curious about probably to see what kind of ending Hollywood allows. I won’t say more I don’t want to ruin the book, I suspect no matter how good the movie the book will still be the way to go.