Monday, November 10, 2025
Blog Tour: The White Wolf's Woe by Shea Hulse @Heyshea13 @HotTreePromos @hottreepubs
Book Blitz + #Giveaway: Have You Seen Him by Kimberly Lee @XpressoTours
Have You Seen Him
Kimberly Lee
Publication date: July 1st 2025
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Suspense, Thriller
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.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Bookshop
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EXCERPT:
David looked around his apartment for a chore, a task, something to keep himself from thinking about facing his coworkers the next day. It was a tall order; he was a minimalist, freakishly neat. Everything was “in its place.” Sifting through junk mail was the thing he resented the most, so David forced himself to do it as penance for his milquetoast behavior in court.
Even though he knew recycling was the right thing to do—for the melting polar ice caps, the coral reef, all that—he hated the monotony of sorting through everything. He suppressed the urge to chuck it all into the same bin. Trash, like pretty much everything else these days, was unnecessarily complicated. Who knew for sure if the carefully categorized items ever even made it to the place where things could be salvaged and revived and turned into handbags made of candy wrappers, seatbelts, and pull-tabs. A documentary he’d watched had uncovered the fact that in at least one town, and probably many others, every single throwaway went to the landfill, whether the bin was blue, black, or green.
But he felt guilty when he didn’t do it, and he had enough things to feel guilty about. The incident at work, his useless behavior. Not picking Gayle up from the airport. He’d wanted to see her, especially after the upsetting day. On the brief phone call before her flight took off, he’d promised to meet her at LAX. But he knew he’d conjure up a reason not to be there. Airports were overripe with too much—too many people, too much movement, too many unknowns.
He rifled through the papers and envelopes. Deals on mattresses, Lay-Z-Boy recliners, chimney cleaning, and towards the bottom of one of the leaflets, the words “¿Me Has Visto?” He had taken Spanish from the voluptuous Mrs. Boyette in 10th grade, so the translation was easy. “Have You Seen Me?”
The pictures accompanying the plea were obscured by something from the Red Cross. He crushed all of the pages into a pointy, misshapen ball, then felt shame for not even glancing at the photo of the poor lost child. He opened the bundle back up and laid the paper on the table, smoothing the crinkled paper with his hands.
David focused in on the ad and saw his own face gazing back at him. He shook his head as if to shake the foolishness out.
“What the—?” His eyes locked on the image. “This. Can’t be real.” He leaned
further in and squinted. The technology had somehow managed to match his exact shade of brown. Although the nose in the picture was a bit too narrow, it was close enough. David had a full, close-cropped beard; the man in the picture barely had a mustache. Regardless, it was him, in a “computer-generated image of subject at thirty-six years old,” as stated by the printed words below the man’s, well, his, picture.
What the hell?
The photo on the left was a picture he’d never actually seen, but it was how he remembered himself at eleven years old, refusing to smile for the goofy school photographer. “Wuss happnen,” the photographer had said as David approached the stool, centered in front of a faded blue background. David frowned. The only people who spoke like that were characters on the old reruns his parents watched. But the photographer had kind eyes. After the photo, David smiled and held out his hand as he exited the bandroom-turned-photo studio. “Gimme five,” he offered, the way he’d seen it done on TV. It made the man’s day; he’d slapped David’s hand with enthusiasm. David was glad he had done it, this grand gesture. The photographer was married to Mrs. Dalton, the hard-faced 3rd grade teacher. He deserved a break.
But David was at a new school, living with his new family, by the time the batch of photos were developed and sent home in cellophane envelopes with his classmates. He’d never seen the pictures.
Until now.
Author Bio:
Kimberly Lee, JD, is a writer, workshop facilitator, and editor with a passion for nurturing the imaginative spirit and helping others reveal their creative gifts. She holds degrees from Stanford University and UC Davis School of Law. Kimberly lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.
GIVEAWAY!
Have You Seen Him Blitz
Week Blast + #Giveaway: Echoes of Fortune: Shadows Over Cozumel by David R Leng @RABTBookTours
Date Published: November 11, 2025
What would you risk to uncover a secret buried for over 150 years?
From bestselling and multi–award-winning author David R. Leng comes the next pulse-pounding installment in the Echoes of Fortune series.
His debut, Echoes of Fortune: The Search for Braddock’s Lost Gold, captivated readers and earned a 4.5-star rating on Goodreads. Now the adventure continues with a brand-new novella that plunges deeper into history’s deadliest secrets.
When historian Jack Sullivan, Smithsonian curator Emma Wilson, and fellow former Navy SEAL Steve Johnson set out for a Thanksgiving dive off Cozumel, they expect nothing more than warm waters and forgotten wrecks. Instead, they uncover a Confederate ghost ship that vanished in 1865—along with a sealed brass tube containing secrets powerful enough to change history.
But they’re not alone. Shadowy mercenaries and a black-hulled yacht stalk their every move, determined to silence them before the truth surfaces. From dazzling reefs to the back alleys of Veracruz, Jack and his team are forced into a deadly game where history isn’t past—it’s a weapon.
Some secrets don’t want to be found. And some will kill to stay buried.
Perfect for fans of Steve Berry, Clive Cussler, Dan Brown, and James Rollins, Shadows Over Cozumel delivers nonstop action, historical intrigue, and a mystery that spans centuries.
About the Author
David R. Leng, known for his expertise in risk management and insurance, now ventures into the world of fiction with his latest historical thriller, Echoes of Fortune. With a distinguished career spanning over 30 years, David is the author of International #1 Best Sellers including "Insured to Fail" and "The 10 Laws of Insurance Attraction," and has saved clients over $42 million in premiums and overcharges. As Executive Vice President and Partner of the Duncan Financial Group, David is celebrated for his innovative Risk Profile Improvement Process and has earned numerous accolades, including Advisor of the Year by the Institute of WorkComp Professionals. An avid contributor to industry publications, David’s passion extends beyond his professional achievements to include boating, skiing, woodworking, and supporting his local high school’s musical productions. His foray into historical thrillers reflects his deep storytelling skills and a lifelong commitment to engaging and captivating audiences.
Teaser: Invisible Monsters by Angela Knight @AngelaKnight @RABTBookTours @changelingpress
Date Published: November 14, 2025
Earth civilians are obsessed with selfies and social media, but my life revolves around alien starships, superhuman strength, and A.I. implants. Too bad none of it helped when I was captured and tortured. Now I crave revenge, but as a genetically engineered Ranger, I must obey Mothership’s rules: protect humanity. Never kill.
When another alien ship sends monsters to invade Earth, Mothership’s Rangers must stop them. My new Ranger teammate is everything I shouldn’t crave: handsome, skilled, and haunted by his own dark past. He helped rescue me from torture, but it cost him his entire team. Now I’m the mess he’s got to clean up.
Battling invisible monsters may be the death of us, but our mutual attraction is undeniable. Can we stop an alien invasion despite our dangerous chemistry?
EXCERPT
Present Day
Diana
I stared at the screen, watching the Earth grow larger as our transport raced toward it. Even after two months as one of Mothership’s Rangers, the sight reminded me how strange my new life had become. Down there, people were obsessed with selfies, celebrities, and social media. I’d plunged into a world of giant alien starships, AI brain implants, and super-strength.
And worse.
An image flashed through my head -- the sadistic grin on Roger Bannon’s face as he leaned in, the surgical drill whining as it spun. I’d fought not to scream as the drill bit in.
Roger loved it when I screamed.
I shoved away the memory, hard. If I wasn’t careful, that thin face with those pale, rabid eyes would start running through my head on an OCD loop. “I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I muttered.
Next to me, Ian Cartwright turned to give me a narrow stare. “What did you say?”
Damnit, Diana, you’re not supposed to creep out your battle buddy. “Bad memories.”
His expression softened, ice-blue eyes going a little less chilly. “I can imagine.”
No, you really can’t. I didn’t say it aloud. Cartwright already thought I was a human hand grenade just waiting for somebody to pull my pin. The team didn’t need that kind of distrust, especially in the middle of an op.
I looked away to see Indra Fox watching me in concern. Crap, I’d even freaked her out. She and our team leader, Rowan Kerr, sat on one of the other bench seats beside the huge oval screens that lined the transport’s curving fuselage.
Indy had been my best friend all my life, my sister in every way but blood. She could read me as if she were telepathic. “Having a flashback?” She tilted her head, long, dark hair swinging around her face, green eyes startling against the silken fall of black. Like me, Indy had a tough, athletic build from the combat and strength training we’d had from the time we could walk. Our dads hadn’t been fooling around.
“I’ve got it handled.”
“Cyberpunk could block those if you’d let him.”
She was right -- my AI brain implant could suppress the firing synapses that triggered those memories. “I’m not going to give Roger the satisfaction.”
Rowan Kerr snorted. “Satisfaction’s the last thing Bannon’s feeling.” Our team leader was even bigger than Cartwright, though his features were less classically handsome, with the rich golden coloring of his Latino heritage. His angular features and intense gaze made him look like he’d escaped a temple in ancient Greece. “If he even thinks about what he did to you, he’ll get a one-way trip to PTSD hell. Pissing Mothership off is never a good idea.”
“She still turned him loose. He could try it again.” That’s why I dreamed of killing him, First Reg or no First Reg. If Bannon was dead, he’d never come back.
Cartwright gave me a frustrated glower. “Newman, he can’t. His conditioning won’t let him. If you violate the First Reg again, you’re going to find out why -- the hard way. You’ve used up the only second chance you get.”
That just pissed me off. “If Mothership had rescued Indra and me when Satan’s Horsemen murdered our --”
“How about not starting a fight in the middle of a mission?” Rowan interrupted. “We’ve got a child and his family to rescue. Preferably before the damn Boars grab them.”
I shut my mouth so fast, my teeth clicked. I’d seen the file photo in Aiden Scott’s dossier. Just eight years old, the kid had huge brown eyes in a pale, round little face under a flyaway mop of dark hair, his grin wide and white and missing a couple of baby teeth.
When Aiden was diagnosed with a high-risk medulloblastoma at age four, doctors treated the brain tumor with surgery, chemo, and radiation. He’d still relapsed three years later. The boy would probably be dead now, except Mothership spotted his family’s medical GoFundMe. She’d sent a Ranger team to the Scott family with an offer to heal Aiden. His parents hadn’t looked a gift miracle in the mouth -- just packed him up and flown off with the Rangers.
Giant alien spaceships are a lot less scary than losing a child.
Mothership’s doctors had infused Aiden’s body with nanotech -- molecule-sized bots that hunted down every cancer cell in his body and killed them all. Then the tech corrected the genetic condition that caused the cancer while healing the damage it had inflicted. He’d been healthy and happy within three months.
But that nanotech also made him a tempting target for the Boarosans who’d invaded the solar system a decade back. The humans whose bodies the Boars used as unwilling hosts were as vulnerable to disease as everyone else, and the aliens wanted to keep their meat suits healthy. That was why they’d ordered the Horsemen to kidnap me, why Bannon and his “researchers” had cut me, scarred me, peeled me so they could watch my tech put me back together. They’d hoped to reverse engineer my nanotech.
They could easily do the same to Aiden. Mothership’s simulations predicted that since I’d escaped, the Boar might well decide to go after the Cured she’d treated.
The idea of that sweet little boy at the mercy of the same aliens who’d given me to Roger…
Rescuing Aiden’s a hell of a lot more important than beefing with my own team. Better mend some fences.
I gave Ian a tight nod. “Sorry for going off on you, Cartwright. Rowan’s right -- an op isn’t the time to get pissy.”
He studied me thoughtfully. Rangers were universally attractive -- Mothership’s genetic engineering at work -- but Ian was even more gorgeous than the typical agent. His face was intensely masculine, all high cheekbones and square jaw, his nose aquiline, his mouth wide, with a lower lip I longed to nibble. He wore his sable hair in a severe style that made him look even harder, sexier, but it was his eyes that pulled me in. An icy blue, they were ringed and rayed in a rich cobalt, watchful and cool. People tend to dismiss a man that pretty, but Cartwright was also six-five and built like an NFL defensive lineman. As one of Mothership’s Rangers, he was even more dangerous than he looked.
“I started it.” His voice rumbled in a way that made me yearn to exchange more than snark with him. “Shouldn’t have poked the wound. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s just… start over, okay? The point is getting Aiden and his family to safety.”
His nod was tight and controlled, like everything else about the man. “Works for me.”
New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.
Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15
Virtual Book Tour + #Giveaway: Shooting at Shadows by Forest McMullin @GoddessFish
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $25 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Blurb:
A photograph can tell the truth. It can also get you killed.
Ethan McGuire’s relentless pursuit of explosive stories has cost him his family, his integrity, and now–possibly–his life. While documenting the rise of white supremacist movements in Western New York, Ethan encounters a world of neo-Nazis, heavily armed survivalists, rogue FBI agents, and violent criminals, all with something to hide. But when a crew of ruthless bank robbers starts hunting him for photos he doesn’t even know he has, the stakes turn deadly.
As his enemies close in and his family becomes a target, Ethan must expose the truth–before it buries him. Shooting at Shadows is a relentless thriller and chilling cautionary tale, inspired by the author’s real-life experiences as a photojournalist. It exposes the darkness lurking beneath the surface of American extremism–and the cost of bringing it to light.
"One hopes that McMullin has further adventures planned for his unlikely hero." –Kirkus Reviews
"...a provocative thriller exploring highly pertinent themes in American culture today..." –Fredrick Soukup, author of Blood up North
Purchase Shooting at Shadows on Amazon
Read an Excerpt
“BOOM BOOM BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM!
“KKK! GO AWAY! KKK! GO AWAY!”
It was deafening, like being inside a giant bass drum. The thin metal walls of the truck amplified the beating and Ethan could feel the horrible reverberation in his chest. Everyone moved toward the center of the bed as if the walls could come crashing in on them at any second. The two holding the rear gate down were fighting the door as people outside tried to raise it.
Suddenly the pounding stopped and Ethan felt the truck moving. The crowd was so loud he hadn’t heard the engine start. But how could they get through that mob without running anyone over? Maybe if Kevin went slowly enough, they’d let the truck pass. Surely the police would be able to get there and see to their safety. Then he realized it wasn’t forward motion he felt. The truck was swaying side to side. The chanting changed too. “O-VER! O-VER! O-VER!” They were trying to turn the truck on its side. Ethan didn’t think it could be done, but with this many people it was impossible to know for sure.
Everyone inside moved away from the center and put their hands against the sides to steady themselves. It was like trying to stand in a boat on choppy seas. Back and forth, back and forth the truck rocked, gaining momentum every time. Ethan saw the men holding the door down lose their balance and fall. The door rose and blinded them with brilliant sunlight.
Interview with Forest McMullin
Do you ever wish you were someone else? Who?
I never wished I was a specific person, but I have wished I was a jazz bass player. I’ve had multiple dreams that revolve around the idea that I’m in a club waiting for the band to start when they announce that the bass player is sick and can’t play. I offer to fill in and I’m amazing even though I’ve never played. If I could magically play any instrument, it would definitely be bass.
What did you do on your last birthday?
Birthdays don’t hold much fascination for me anymore. My wife and I stayed home and shared a nice bottle of wine and she made a wonderful meal of shrimp and vegetables in a yellow curry sauce.
What part of the writing process do you dread?
I dread most of the writing process. Starting. Finishing. The middle. The results are what keeps me going, not the process. When I get something I think is strong, it makes the unpleasant process worth it.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?
A lot. I go for long walks or hikes and things will often start moving when I get back. Walking is a meditation for me where details of my writing can be worked out
Tell us about your latest release.
In 1993 I spent eight months working on a photo story about radical racists, most of whom lived in Pennsylvania. I interviewed a convict inside Attica Prison, slept on the floor of a ramshackle trailer in a rural compound, rode in the back of a Ryder truck going to an anti-gay rally, and attended a cross burning. I hung out with skinheads and Aryan Nations and Klan members. I saw and heard things that were shocking and repugnant. By the end I had a story strong enough for my agent to license to publications around the world. You can see some of the photographs in the Archive section of this site here.
Several years later I found out that some of the people I had photographed had robbed twenty-two banks, netting several hundred thousand dollars. Six of them either pleaded or were found guilty and were sentenced to federal prison.
I decided that working on the story and spending time with those criminals had the potential for an exciting book. After experimenting with a non-fiction treatment, by 1999 I settled on a fictional version and started writing what became the thriller Shooting at Shadows.
About the Author:
Forest McMullin is a writer based in Atlanta, Georgia. Earlier in his career, he was a photojournalist who specialized in photographing fringe social groups. Today he writes both long and short form fiction, Shooting at Shadows is his first novel.
Connect with Forest McMullin
Website ~ Instagram ~ Facebook ~ Substack ~ Bluesky






































