Blog Tour + #Giveaway: Rise of the Branded by Scott Keen @XpressoTours

Rise of the Branded
Scott Keen
(Scar of the Downers, #2)
Publication date: November 22nd 2016
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Pursued into the wild by the soldiers of Ungstah, former slave Crik and the other freed Downers encounter the magical and terrifying nature of their world. They face spectral Shepherds, man-eating Rukmush, and the ancient giants of the earth. When two of their group are captured, Crik is distraught and powerless.

Meanwhile back in the city, Durgan, former Captain of the King’s Guard who allowed Crik and his friends to escape from Ungstah, is now a Downer, one of the Branded. Amid the murmurings of an uprising among the Branded, Durgan just wants to be left alone to search for his missing son. But in the process, he discovers how dark the powers of Sulfus the king truly are. Durgan must take a stand in the coming war between the Branded and the powerful armies of Sulfus.

To kill any hope of escape for the city’s Branded, the army comes after Crik and his friends to make an example of them. The answers for Durgan, Crik and freedom for all Downers lie hidden in the dark recesses of the Northern Reaches, in the treacherous places Crik and his companions are about to enter.

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Excerpt:

Crik could tell he was in some sort of large vestibule deep in the mountainside. Scattered across the floor of the hall were puddles, formed from water that dripped down the stalactites. Each drop echoed through the chamber and revealed to Crik how alone he really was. Then, his eyes were drawn to the hundreds of stone tombs throughout the cavern.

“What are those?”

The Kurokah drew Crik’s gaze. Its face had a blank, dead expression. He stared into the black mouth and felt the hopelessness inside. He wanted to cry out, to yell, but was powerless to do so. The Kurokah moved toward Crik in one swooping motion and was now only inches away from his face. Out of its mouth came a voice not its own.

“You have rebelled against me.” It was a woman’s voice, and it croaked. “And now a lesson must be learned.”

Crik was unable to speak, but somehow the woman on the other side of the Kurokah knew what he was thinking. “Please. I’ve done nothing to you. We just wanted to be free.”

The woman’s voice cackled, which sent shivers down Crik’s spine. “Free? You can never be free. Why would you think such a thing, Crik?” There was another sharp screech of laughter. “Yes, I know who you are. I know you killed your master Kilvar.”

“Who are you exactly?” he thought.

“I am the King’s Eyes, and I see everything.”

“How is that possible?”

Another laughter rippled out of the Kurokah. “Yes, you would like to know. Many people would like to know who I am. But that is not for them to know. I am a secret. All you need to know is that we will soon see each other face-to-face. You and all of your friends. Now… you shall just have to wait.”

“What are you going to do with me?” cried Crik, though the words were only in his head.

“I am going to keep you, Crik. You are one of my possessions now. But do not worry. I am not finished with you yet. Before you die, I will reveal to you the power that is within me. I will show you what awaits your friends. But for now, I will place you where I place all my treasures. Bury him.”

“What?” He screamed the words in his mind. “No!”

The Kurokah closed its mouth and lifted Crik off the rock.

Everything went black.

***

Before another vision came to him he found himself lying in a stone tomb looking up at the ceiling of the cave. Something crunched beneath him. Crik’s eyes searched for the sound and discovered what it was just before the stone lid scraped shut.

Bones.

Now Crik couldn’t see anything. His mind raced and he started to panic. He tried to think of ways that he could escape, but it was pointless. He couldn’t even move. Nor could he cry out for help. He was too powerless to do even that.

This was not what he had envisioned when he had fled Ungstah. Already, he had been separated from his friends and captured twice.

Where was Aniel? Why had she left them? He wished he could take it all back. Even now, Ungstah didn’t seem so dangerous from where he was lying, trapped in a tomb deep in the mountains. Kilvar he could withstand, but there was no way he could fight against Sulfus and the King’s Eyes.

This was why no one ever tried to escape from Ungstah, he thought to himself. 

Author Bio:
Scott grew up in Black River, NY, the youngest of three children. While in law school, he realized he didn’t want to be a lawyer. So he did the practical thing – he became a writer. Now, many years later with an MFA in script and screenwriting, he is married with four daughters, two of whom he home schools. 

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Release Tour: Making Mom Mad by Stacy Eaton @StacySEaton @MoBPromos

MAKING MOM MAD

The Celebration Township, book 6
by Stacy Eaton

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Book Tour + #Giveaway: TO SEDUCE A STRANGER by Susanna Craig @SusannaMCraig @SDSXXTours

TO SEDUCE A STRANGER

by Susanna Craig

Pub date: 4/11/2017

Genre: Historical Romance

Desire waylays the plans of a man with a mysterious past and a woman with an uncertain future, in Susanna Craig’s unforgettable series set in Georgian England.

After her much older husband dies—leaving her his fortune—Charlotte Blakemore finds herself at the mercy of her stepson, who vows to contest the will and destroy her life. With nowhere to turn and no one to help her, she embarks on an elaborate ruse—only to find herself stranded on the way to London. . .

More than twenty years in the West Indies have hardened Edward Cary, but not enough to abandon a helpless woman at a roadside inn—especially one as disarmingly beautiful as Charlotte. He takes her with him to the Gloucestershire estate he is determined to restore, though he is suspicious of every word that falls from her distractingly lush lips.

As far as Charlotte knows, Edward is nothing more than a steward, and there’s no reason to reveal his noble birth until he can right his father’s wrongs. Acting as husband and wife will keep people in the village from asking questions that neither Charlotte nor Edward are willing to answer. But the game they’re each determined to play has rules that beg to broken, when the passion between them threatens to uncover the truth—for better or worse. . .

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Chapter 1 

 Ravenswood Manor, Gloucestershire June 1775 

For some time now, the parlor maid had been neglecting to sweep into the nook between the bow window and the high-backed sofa in her ladyship’s receiving room. The wide beam of afternoon sun- light was thick with dust motes that settled softly on the floor, dimming the luster of the damasked furniture and coating the hems of the rose velvet draperies. 

The maid’s shortcomings suited the boy just fine. In the dusty, narrow crevice, he had built a world he did not wish to have disturbed. An entire battalion of soldiers stood perpetually at the ready, apparently unconcerned at their precarious field position; flanked on two sides by the wall and the sofa’s back, they could only advance or retreat, and as they were English soldiers, retreat was never an option. 

On this day, however, they faced a new enemy. 

Just yesterday, the boy had begged for a ship that he might expand into a navy, although he knew his father thought him too old for such playthings. Hardly had the request been out of his mouth before Father had erupted, insisting that no son of his would become . . . well, he wasn’t sure quite what his father had said, but it had begun with “arse,” a sure insult and one never to be spoken in front of a lady, which was probably why Mama had very nearly swooned when she heard it. 

A heated exchange between his parents had surely followed, but the boy had been spared from it by being sent to his lessons. He ought to be there again now, but he had played truant instead and sneaked back to his favorite hideaway as soon as he could manage it. To thwart his father’s prohibition, he had pinched his mother’s sewing basket from the table as he passed, thinking it would make a fine pi- rate’s ship. Next, he set to work scraping the painted uniforms off three soldiers whose leaden expressions made them the most likely candidates for notorious men of fortune. With a flourish, he drew a wavy line in the dust on the floor to mark out the shore and positioned the ship with its broadside facing his unsuspecting troops. 

As the pirate captain knelt to touch off his cannon, the boy heard his mother’s light footsteps, followed by a tread he could not immediately identify. 

“So kind of you to drop in, Mrs. Henderson,” Mama said 

. 

Mrs. Henderson was the vicar’s wife, a heavyset woman with a prominent nose and hair the color of a mouse’s hide. But she always smelled of gingerbread and was kind to him and the other boys tutored by Mr. Henderson’s curate, Cummings 

“Will you take tea?” 

“It’s very kind of you, I’m sure, but I can’t stay, my lady. I only called to see if young Ravenswood was unwell. He wasn’t at his Latin lesson today, and Mr. Cummings seemed to think that he wasn’t quite himself yesterday.” 

“Oh, that!” Mama laughed, a shade too brightly. “He was petulant because his father forbade him a new toy.” Her words made him bristle. “Boys will be boys, Mrs. Henderson. But I’ll see to it he does not miss another lesson.” 

A long pause. “And you, my lady—are you quite well?” It seemed Mrs. Henderson was not content to let sleeping dogs lie. 

“I? Why, yes, of course,” replied Mama. 

The boy heard the click of the door latch, and before he could wonder who had dared to close a door that Father never allowed any- one to close but him, he heard Mrs. Henderson say, “My lady, I know it’s not my place. But that’s an ugly-looking bruise.” 

When Mama had come in last evening to say goodnight, he had seen the bruise at her hairline near her temple, only partially hidden by her lace-edged cap. He could picture her slender hand rising now to shield her face from the other woman’s sight. “It’s nothing. I—I tripped and—” 

“No need to make excuse, my lady. But perhaps a poultice—?” 

  

“Oh, no, no.” She brushed the suggestion aside. She did not like anything that drew attention to her supposed clumsiness, he knew. Neither did his father. 

He heard Mrs. Henderson’s footsteps cross the carpet quickly and when she spoke again, her voice was low.  

“I know we mightn’t have much time to speak freely, my lady. Isn’t there anything a body can do to help you? Perhaps if Mr. Henderson spoke with his lordship?” 

“Oh, God, no. Please, Mrs. Henderson. Say nothing more.” 

“I will speak, my lady. I can’t do otherwise. It’s abroad in the village what’s become of your parlor maid.” His mother gave a hiccup of surprise. “You dared to speak on her behalf, I suppose.” 

Someone stumbled to the sofa and sank down upon it—Mama, by the sound of it; the bulk of Mrs. Henderson soon followed. Their voices were quieter still, but now, only inches from his ear, he could not help but hear them. “I thought perhaps I could persuade him to let her stay on—in the village, of course, not here—at least until the child is born . . .” 

“But he wants no evidence of his crime hereabouts?” 

The sofa creaked as one of the women shifted. “What would you have me say, Mrs. Henderson? I cannot speak ill of my husband.” 

“No, of course not.” Mrs. Henderson managed to sound at once wry and sympathetic. “Isn’t there somewhere you could go?” 

“How could I leave my son?” 

“Do you fear for his safety, then?” 

Mama laughed again, but the sound was suddenly strange to him. “I fear for his life, Mrs. Henderson.” The boy crouched lower in his hiding spot, careful not to disturb the orderly ranks and files of soldiers at his feet. 

“Dear God in Heaven! Do you mean—?” 

“I mean that if left to his own devices, my husband will raise his son in his image. So now, while I can, I intervene. His mother’s influence may be the only stay against a violent nature.” 

A violent nature? Did Mama believe he was fated to turn out like Father? People seemed to delight in telling him how he took after the man. In looks, certainly—he was big for his age, and dark where his mother was fair. Mr. Cummings insisted that must be where his quickness came from, too. Neither Latin nor algebra required much effort. But what if—the boy glanced down at the soldier still clutched in his hand—what if that is not all I have inherited? 

“When he’s sent to school, however,” Mama continued, “I will leave. A visit to my sister’s—an extended holiday, we shall say.” He had never heard his mother use that tone of voice. It was something more than angry, more than stubborn. 

“Oh, my lady.” Mrs. Henderson clucked her tongue. “But in the meantime . . . ?” 

Mama rose to her feet and crossed to the door, opening it wide. The sudden gust of air through the room swirled the dust on the floor at his feet. A sneeze threatened, tickling deep in his nostrils, but he pinched the bridge of his nose to keep it at bay. “It was kind of you to call, Mrs. Henderson.” 

The sofa protested once more as the vicar’s wife stood, and he heard her shuffle into a curtsy. “I am at your service, your ladyship.” They left, and the boy was alone again in the dusty silence. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the figure he held, as if it were some sort of talisman. When the other boys had teased little Molly Keating about her freckles, Mr. Cummings had told him it was a gentle- man’s duty to protect a lady.  

How he wished he were a pirate captain! What wouldn’t he do then to keep his mother safe? He would whisk her away across the seven seas, take her somewhere his father could not harm her again. 

Alas, he had no ship, no cannon, not even a cutlass. He shoved angrily, impotently at the sewing basket, which plowed into the soldiers lining the shore, breaking their ranks. She could leave when he did, she had said. But he would not be going away to school for more than two years. Terrible things might happen in that time. If only it were in his power to leave now. 

He studied the pirate’s painted face. Father was fond of saying that every Bristol merchant was a pirate at heart. And they had ships, the boy knew. He had seen them once when Mama had taken him to the harbor on an outing. If there were pirates so near as Bristol, he could run away and join them. He supposed Mama would worry about what had become of him. Mothers did worry, he knew. But she would forgive him if she were able to leave this place. 

Away from his mother’s gentle guidance, he risked becoming more like his father. But what choice did he have? 

  

His shoulders rounded under the weight of his decision, the boy began to pack up his soldiers. Perhaps his father had been right all along, for he suddenly felt far too old for such playthings. At the least, he would try very hard to be grown-up enough not to long for the day when he could come home. 

A love affair with historical romances led Susanna Craig to a degree (okay, three degrees) in literature and a career as an English professor. When she’s not teaching or writing academic essays about Jane Austen and her contemporaries, she enjoys putting her fascination with words and knowledge of the period to better use: writing Regency-era romances she hopes readers will find both smart and sexy. She makes her home among the rolling hills of Kentucky horse country, along with her historian husband, their unstoppable little girl, and a genuinely grumpy cat

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NEW RELEASE: BLISSFUL DISASTER BY AMY L. GALE @amyg618 @WTMOreads

🎸¸.•´ ♫ NEW RELEASE ♫´•.¸🎸

BLISSFUL DISASTER

BY AMY L. GALE

♪♫♪♫ Blurb♪♫♪♫

One night stands.

Career-driven Ali Whitman, never dreamed of having one, until she finds herself waking up next to a handsome tattooed man she knows nothing about. After celebrating her promotion to field reporter at Entertainment Rocks! magazine, she breaks her number one rule - to focus on work without the distraction of the opposite sex.

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♪♫♪♫ABOUT THE AUTHOR♪♫♪♫

Romance author by night, pharmacist by day, Amy Gale loves rock music and the feel of sand between her toes. She attended Wilkes University where she graduated with a Doctor of Pharmacy degree. In addition to writing, she enjoys baking, scary movies, rock concerts, and reading books at the beach. She lives in the lush forest of Northeastern Pennsylvania with her husband, six cats, and golden retriever.

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http://wtmowordsturnmeon.blogspot.com/

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NBTM + Review + Giveaway: A Vampire's Tale by Maya Tyler @mayatyerauthor @GoddessFish

A Vampire's Tale

by Maya Tyler

GENRE:   Paranormal Romance

BLURB:

The best laid plans…

Marisa Clements was never satisfied writing the ‘gossip column’ in the local paper so she quit her job to follow her dream of writing fiction. Floundering in an unforgiving industry, she wrote about vampires, a popular subject she considered fascinating but as real as unicorns, to pay the rent.

Corgan Halton was tired of human misconceptions about vampires. He planned on telling Marisa his story and end his existence. It was no coincidence Corgan selected Marisa to write his story. With the ability to see the future, he knew she would be a major part of it. He knew she would be the one to help him die, but in doing so, she’d be doomed to the same fate. Once they met, their futures would be irrevocably intertwined.

Corgan began caring for Marisa and finally revealed the truth to her. He admitted his quest to atone for his past sins had put her in grave danger from a nest of revenge-seeking vampires. Corgan must claim her for her own protection. But claiming her is not enough, he must ask for help from his wizard friends and his maker in order to destroy his enemy or Marisa will never be safe.

Excerpt:

He didn't have a name yet, but he had a face. A dark, mysterious face with a century's worth of secrets. Secrets he would tell her, only her, if she would listen.

Marisa took a deep, calming breath. “I’m listening.” She closed her eyes, waiting. A cool breeze shifted her hair and her eyes popped open. The old floorboards creaked, and she spun her chair around. “Who's there?” The candle blew out. “What the—”

Time—and her heartbeat—stood still. Paranoia set in, the consequence of writing too many vampire stories. She must've left a window open. Or something. She re-lit the candle and turned her attention back to her laptop, staring at the last words she'd typed.

Corgan Halton.

She didn't remember typing that.

“Corgan Halton.” She said the name slowly. “I like that.” She'd written a dozen vampire stories and this would be her best name yet. It had an old-worldly feel to it. Like a real name. She'd better look it up to make sure it wasn't a real name; she didn’t need a lawsuit. Did people sue for name infringement?

“Okay, Corgan Halton. Are you real?” She typed the name into a search engine.

“As real as you are.” The distinctive male voice resonated in the otherwise quiet room.

Marisa froze. She didn't dare turn around. It was her overactive imagination at play. There was no one there. She hoped. Maybe one of her friends? Is this a joke?

“Not a joke, Marisa.”

Gasping, she stood and spun around toward the sound of his voice.

As he stepped out of the shadows, she took in the man before her. Pale with black, curly hair, dressed in an impeccable suit. Dark and intimidating, he stood in her living room, shrinking the already small space.

Exactly as she’d imagined. She conjured him from her imagination? No… This is not happening.

My Review:

Marisa Clements is a fiction writer and loves to write about vampires but of course she knows they are not real until she meets a real (or dead/undead) live vampire that is, Corgan Halton. Marisa grew tired of her mundane life so she gave up her job to follow her dreams of becoming a fiction writer and hopes that one day it will pay the bills.

Corgan is tired of living and has made a date with the sun. He has lived a very long time as he is probably hundreds of years old. He is tired of the same old mundane life. But before he goes he wants to put his story out there for others to read so that they will know the truth; that vampires are real and let the world know that what they know about vampires is not all true and let them in on all their little secrets. He has chosen Marisa as the right person for the job.

After spending time together with Corgan telling Marisa his life story and how he became a vampire Corgan and Marisa start to have feelings for each other and it is not long before the sparks start to fly. The sparks start flying pretty quickly but who can blame Marisa with such a gorgeous man as Corgan standing in front of her.

Corgan has a little baggage that he brings along to the party. There is a vampire out there that wants to destroy Corgan for what he did to his family of vampires a few years back. This vampire wants to make Corgan pay for what he did all those years ago and has been fighting Corgan for many years. Now this vampire is after Marisa he figures if he can get his hands on her he can punish Corgan. Corgan has no intentions of letting this vampire or anyone else get his hands on Marisa he will fight to the death to save her.

I have truly enjoyed reading Corgan and Marisa’s story. I loved all the new twist that the author created for the way vampires live and the magic things they are capable of doing. A Vampire’s Tale puts a whole new twist on vampires. I would recommend A Vampire’s Tale to anyone who loves reading about vampires. 

AUTHOR BIO:

Maya Tyler, wife and mother of two boys, writes paranormal romance with a twist. Her debut novella Dream Hunter was released in December 2014. Her second novel A Vampire’s Tale released on March 22, 2017. She’s a romantic and believes in happily-ever-after. Being an author is her lifelong dream. She enjoys reading, music (alternative rock, especially from the 90’s), yoga, movies and TV, and spending her free time writing and blogging at Maya’s Musings.

Author Contact Information: 



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Book Blitz + #Giveaway: Before the Tempest by Tani Hanes @TaniHanes @XpressoTours

Before the Tempest
Tani Hanes
(UK Crush, #4)
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

Aileen Foster, poor, orphaned, musically gifted, never imagined her life could change so much, so fast, but getting a job as interpreter for boyband UK Crush pitched her headfirst into tumult and a glamorous life she never thought she’d have. Now, engaged to band member Theo Shelley, and having survived her audition to Hamilton Conservatory in Manhattan, she’s off to the Bahamas with the boys while they write their new album. Life has never been easy for her, but she’s trying.

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Find the previous books in the series on Amazon!

—

EXCERPT:

I leaned forward and kissed him, and even though he was sleeping, he kissed me back, and I felt him stirring against my leg, making me smile. I pushed my hips against him gently, and felt him push back, again, while remaining asleep, a purely sensitized response. I wondered if it was possible to have, not “sleepy sex”, which we had all the time, but actual “sleeping sex”? I kissed him again, wanting to get busy, but feeling guilty about waking him up. He kissed me back, but remained peacefully, almost obstinately, asleep. I sighed.

I put my hand on him, feeling more than a stirring this time, and on a whim, went under the covers, head first, pulling the blanket up from the bottom first to make sure I could breathe (I’d gotten caught in that situation before, and nearly suffocated from a lack of oxygen).
I took care of business, so to speak, knowing he was definitely awake by the time I finished. And he finished. I crawled out from under the covers, blinked in the bright light of day and smiled at him.
He smiled back at me.
“Good morning, tiger,” he said in his gravelly morning voice, pulling me up to kiss me. “What was that for, hmm?” He squeezed me.
“You said in the taxi, remember? The night we walked across the bridge into the city and took the cab here?” I looked up at him. He shook his head.
“You said that smiles and blow jobs were all the thanks you’d ever want from me for you making me so happy.” I snuggled down into his arms. “So now I’ve given you both already for today.”
He snickered. “So is this something that’s supposed to have been occurring every day, then? Because if that’s the case, I think we’re a few days behind, love.” He lifted the covers. “You’d better get down there and do a bit of catch up.” He looked at me.
I looked at him. “Dude, I’m up for it if you are.” I began to crawl back under the blankets. He looked horrified and pulled me back.
I smirked at him. “All bluster, I knew it.”
He made his mouth into a round O of offended shock. “You’re so rude. How can you impugn my manhood like that? Have I not kept you good and thoroughly fucked pretty much each and every day since we got together?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I acknowledged. “The thing is that I don’t know what other guys are like. Maybe any man out there could be doing what you’re doing, you know? Or even more?” I looked up at him.
He pursed his lips and looked at me through narrowed eyes. “You take that back, right now, or I will make you suffer. I will tickle you until you wee. Never was a threat made more seriously.”
“No!” I shrieked. “I take it back I take it back!” I turned to straddle him and leaned forward to hug him. “I love you I love you I love you, Theodore Shelley.” By the last time I said it, all traces of humor had left my voice, and I was left looking into his smoke-gray eyes, feeling emotional.
“Wow,” he said softly. He took a deep breath. “You look enchanting, Ms. Foster.”
I smiled. “I think that’s just because you’re looking through those eyes of yours, Teddy,” I said with a little laugh, touching his nose with my finger.
He sat up, hugging me. “Shower?” he whispered.
“Shower,” I responded with a smile.

Author Bio:
Tani Hanes was born in Yokosuka, Japan. She spent the first few years of her life traveling back and forth between Japan and the US, making the permanent move to the Central Valley of California when she was five. She visited family in Japan on a regular basis, and attended college in Tokyo for one year at ICU before getting her degree in Language Studies from UC Santa Cruz. She has two children, and was a substitute teacher for fifteen years. Hanes currently resides in New York City with her husband and cats, Moss and Lily. 

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PROMO Blitz + #Giveaway: Quantum Roots II by Kyle Keyes @RABTBookTours

Fiction, Satire

Date Published:  February 2017

In this sequel to Quantum Roots, the meekish Olan Chapman faces danger as vigilante Samuel Leroy McCoy, a US deputy marshal who upheld law and order in 1876, Dodge City.

The metamorphous holds an eerie transformation, cloaked with rolling sagebrush and horse whinnies from yesteryear, which causes DPA Director, Alexis Grumman to rethink the validity of worm holes.

"Creation is a worm hole," replies Dr Norman Daly, "Atoms require hadrons to form a nucleus, and each hadron comes through it's own worm hole. Two quarks form the bi-dimensional plane needed to support the hole. The remaining quark squeezes through this hole, after which the first two quarks follow to shape the hadron to a given genetic, configuration. The hole then closes to divide time from timeless."

The gunfighter is wanted for multiple killings, a consequence that keeps the slender computer wizard on the run from authorities - and domineering wife, Ivy Chapman.

As in Quantum Roots, aka The Vigilante Sightings, Quantum Roots II is based on mounting evidence that people form from recycled energy.

Other Books in the Quantum Roots Series:

Federal agents, Alexis Grumman and Jeremy Wade track down a current day vigilante, whose fingerprints match those of a Korean War veteran. Author Kyle Keyes uses characters from two previous novels, to promote a theory that particle energy formats with a quantum root system, that can bypass time and space. Keyes believes that such fiction could turn to fact as we move into the age of quantum mechanics. Adventure fans everywhere should delight in this fast paced action story, that brings yesterday's gun play back to settle cyber-age injustice. Synopsis: Jesse Joe Jacks was born sometime during the snow blizzard of 1923. The Lower Elk County, game warden died from a lightning strike on July 23, 1959, while wearing a sheriff's star. Olan Chapman came to life in August of 1974 and found a computer career with a center city, electronics firm. Chapman drinks heavy and is haunted by flashbacks of an older sister, lost to an unsolved case of gang rape and murder. Jacks loved nature and lived to protect wildlife. He stood tall and fought to uphold justice. Jacks was also a crack shot with a firearm - any firearm. Chapman attends the theatre, plays piano and at one time led a march against the National Rifle Association. Both men have the same fingerprints, much to the chagrin of Lt General Alexis Grumman who heads the federal department for para-normal activities. Working with special agent, Jeremy Wade, Grumman breaks open the case when Chapman's fingerprints also match those of the vigilante.

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About the Author

Born To Write:

Older Americans often come from whistle stop towns painted by Norman Rockwell. Kyle Keyes grew up in Clayton, a South Jersey borough first founded as Fislerville.  Clayton had a small urban district with street lights, but no indoor plumbing. Farmland and outhouses were a sign of the times.

Clayton was so small, that Keye's aunt doubled as his Sixth Grade school teacher, who once said that Kyle lived with his nose between the bookends. She must have known something.

Keyes went to Temple Tech for concrete and steel design in 1956 and 1957. He never became an engineer, but still has a red, tinker toy motor and his World War II, Erector Set.

The early Sixties found Kyle in the U.S. Army where his top sergeant would daily bark, "You just say morning, trooper. I'll decide if it's good or not!"

Keyes wholesaled bakery products to food chains for thirty years,and wrote odd items for local newspapers. He is widowed and currently lives in Florida. He has two children, Kathleen and Daniel. Grand children are now grown and too old for tales about railroads and yesterday's America. This leaves Keyes no option but to write books.

Se la ve.

PS: Should you need a book autographed, Kyle can usually be found rooting through neighborhood trash cans, one block ahead of the recycle truck.

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