BLURB:
What would you do to stay young: Lie, Manipulate..kill?

London-Fall, 1888
The city is in a panic as Jack the Ripper continues his murderous spree. While the Whitechapel police struggle to find him, Detective Inspector Rudyard Bloodstone and his partner are working feverishly to find their own serial killer. The British Museum's beautiful gardens have become a killing ground for young women strangled as they stroll through.

 Their investigation has them brushing up against Viscount Everhard, a powerful member of the House of Lords, and a friend to Queen Victoria. When the circumstantial evidence  points to him as a suspect, Rudyard must deal with the political blowback, and knows if they are going to go after the viscount, they'd better be right and have proof.

 As the body count grows and the public clamor for the detectives to do more, inter-department rivalries complicate the already difficult case.

Silk on the skin—luxurious, luscious..lethal.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt One:
He wrapped an end in each hand and pulled. His fingers crept up the silk and he tugged a bit harder still. The material pressed deeper into the flesh of her neck. Bright pink dotted her cheeks and radiated down to her jaw. The veins in her temples popped out and pulsed in time to her heartbeat. She moaned, pushed her hips upward and writhed against him. Her soft pubic hair tickled his testicles. Isabeau’s unsubtle way of letting him know she wanted him inside her. He obliged.


Her hands encircled his wrists. She tugged hard outward, harder than usual. A choked sigh escaped her. He paid no attention. This was standard. Isabeau always insisted he maintain pressure until she signaled for him to release his hold. In the past, when she reached the edge of consciousness, she’d beat along his upper arms. This time she thrashed her head back and forth, something he hadn’t seen before. Her eyes bulged in an unattractive way and she clawed at him. Her nails gouged the skin on his hands, drawing blood.

She hurt him and he wanted to slap her. He almost let go of one end of the scarf to do that. Instead, he pulled tighter. Isabeau tried to insert her fingers into the spot where the material crossed over. Her mouth opened and shut, soundless and fishlike. She swatted at the mattress wildly. Red-faced to the point of being near purple, she bucked beneath him.

She fired his blood with her lack of inhibition. Never had she responded with such intensity. Raw power surged through him, primitive, animalistic. He pumped hard. Ready to climax, William clenched his fists, twisting the scarf one last turn. Odd, feathery touches tapped his biceps, feminine and subtle grazes, and then she went limp. Spent, he released his hold and collapsed on top of her, his heart pounding while he caught his breath.

 Isabeau didn’t move and her head stayed turned to the side. She hadn’t cried out the way she normally did when sated. Perhaps she was disappointed with his effort. He gave the thought a mental shrug. At the end of the day, it really didn’t matter. He’d arrange for her departure first thing in the morning.

William rolled over and slung a sweaty arm over his eyes. He tried to decide which was worse, telling her tonight the affair was over or waiting until morning. The idea of doing it after such a rambunctious sexual endeavor seemed bad form, but he wanted to get it over with. He turned onto his side, prepared for histrionics, caterwauling, great tears and verbal abuse.

“Isabeau, look at me. I’ve come to a decision and it will likely distress you.” Nothing. She didn’t stir. “Isabeau?”

He shook her by the arm. Still no response. William let go and her arm dropped listless to the mattress. He raised her arm again and let go. Again, it fell listless. He straddled her and patted her cheeks. Nothing. Her head twisted without resistance first right then left depending on the direction of his pat. He slapped her harder. Nothing. Vacant eyes stared fixed on the ceiling. He bent an ear to her chest. Nothing. William leapt from the bed, snatched a silver mirror from the dressing table, and held it under her nose. Nothing.

“Bitch.” William hurled the mirror against the wall. “Bitch, whore,” he raged and paced along the side of the bed. “I will not allow you to make my life a nightmare. This was your doing. I told you to leave me alone.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Great Read

Silk is a Victorian era whodunit that follows Inspector Rudyard as he digs through the seamy underbelly of London as he tracks a serial killer who could possibly be Jack the Ripper. Author Chris Karlsen makes the book into a duel by including the killer’s point of view, which gives the reader a clue into the killer’s motivation. Silk is a classic suspense in the fact that the reader discover information at the same speed as the inspector. It’s full of creepy moments that causes the reader to shudder before continuing reading.

Silk is a fast-paced thriller that kept me turning the pages and rooting for Inspector Rudyard. Even though the blurb refers to an attractive hat maker, this book isn’t a romance. Don’t read it looking for a love story. Instead, read it for the beautifully crafted suspense and evocative settings of Queen Victoria’s London.

This is book one in The Bloodstone Series, which promises to be a riveting series. Two thumbs up to Author Chris Karlsen. 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:
I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love of history and books.

My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.

I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write two different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My romantic thriller series is, Dangerous Waters.

I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, four rescue dogs and a rescue horse. 

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4822048.Chris_Karlsen

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/authorckarlsen

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chriskarlsenwriter

Website: http://chriskarlsen.com/

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Chris-Karlsen/e/B005HYTQQI

BN Author Page: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/chris-karlsen

Do you feel like your spiritual walk with God can be stronger? Are you feeling like your trials and tribulations are distracting you from having the life that God has designed for you? Is your cup half full or half empty?
In Thirty Days of Spiritual Inspiration and Journaling: Living, Loving and Learning about One’s Life Journey,  Shereé Danielle Parker will help you to understand your quest for wanting to know how to transition through life while enduring spiritual tests. Shereé uses scriptures and tools that she has found valuable that will aid you on your journey to becoming a stronger and spiritually driven you. Whether you have lost your way, backsliding or would benefit from spiritual uplifting to keep you moving in the right direction, then this book is a must read for you. 
Read it, meditate on it and then allow yourself to experience God’s divine order for your life.

Excerpt Two:

Don’t Worry… Be Happy

Don’t be jaded by the troubles of the world. Take those experiences and make them into happy memories by overcoming the obstacles you have faced.

Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.”

Exodus 14:13

List three obstacles you have faced and how you have turned them into positives.

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 Shereé Danielle Parker is a native of Southwest Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.   She was raised as one of five children in an urban area that posed many challenges for her because of high crime rates, teen pregnancy, drugs and poverty. These tribulations encouraged her to beat the odds of being a statistics as young African American woman. She holds an undergraduate degree in Psychology with a minor in African American Studies from Millersville University and a Master’s degree in Human Services from Lincoln University, both located in Pennsylvania. She’s also a second year doctoral student in a Counseling Psychology program at Argosy University. Her passion for wanting to be an inspiration to others, especially young women, has taken on a form through not only her profession as a change agent, but through the use of words. As a Christian, God has shown her favor and continues to bless her each day through spiritual guidance. Thirty Days of Spiritual Inspiration and Journaling is the first of many works to come for the new author.

 

Facebook link:

https://www.facebook.com/AuthoressShereeParker?ref=aymt_homepage_panel

 

Book Purchase Link:

 http://www.dancingwithbearpublishing.com/bookshelf.htm

BLURB:
Deep in the Arizona desert live a girl and her dad, burying secrets--and bodies.
Mesa Kingston's first memory of burying a corpse was at eight years old. Back then it had been the carcass of a large lizard her dad found that they buried in the backyard of their isolated cottage. At age fourteen, the body of a young lady accompanied the reptile's remains, and ever since, an accumulation of female bodies began to grow. Now, the only way Mesa can stop the haunting screams of the dead is by drowning them out with flames. Or is there more to the blaze than even she can perceive?
~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt One:
Good girls do anything for their fathers, including rob, cheat, and kill, and I always considered myself a good girl. The time I first came to that conclusion will stay with me forever. Years later, here I am, still fulfilling my daughterly duty.

 After wiping the sweat from my palm onto my jeans, I press the bulbous tip of the match against the strike strip on the side of the small carton. My hands shake worse than Grandma's had when trying to slice her ninety-first birthday cake just a few hours ago, but I manage to run the match across it anyway. The flame comes alive at my fingertips, dancing merrily at the prospect of latching on to something and disintegrating it into smoldering embers. Although the light breeze causes the flame to flicker at the end of the matchstick, I'm aware of the control I have over it. I watch the glow change shape through a veil of tears and with that the decision was absolute.

The flame will get to perform its destructive duty.

I flick the match toward the pile of wooden planks that used to be the porch. Instantly the fire catches the fumes of the pooled liquid and expands so quickly a wall of gasoline-scented hot air rushes me before the blaze travels deeper into the house. I back away to a safe distance as the straw-like grass crunches beneath my feet. Nearing the homemade fence, which is nothing more than a double row of chicken wire, I hear the screams from the distance, cries of agony that meld with my memory like two spreading pools of melted wax. I can't stop the waterworks. I don't even make an attempt.

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:
The L.L. stands for Leslie Lee. I write erotic romance and post-apocalyptic/dystopian fiction under Leslie Lee Sanders.

But horror and thriller fiction is what I grew up on, what inspires me, and what began my pursuit to authorship. I’ve written many short scary stories since the 6th grade. Now they’re much more mature in general, thanks to the wide range of emotion and experience I’ve encountered over the years.

I’m a huge fan of horror and psychological thrillers in every fashion, including movies, books, art, campfire tales, etc. Some of my favorite stories are those that twist at the end or are ambiguous with deep societal or morality themes. This includes dystopias like Hugh Howey’s Wool, psychological thrillers like Shutter Island, and popular and classic horror/romances like V.C. Andrews’s Flowers in the Attic, my favorite.

 All my ideas start with a twist, which is exactly how most of my stories end.

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/lls4sanders

TWITTER: https://twitter.com/LeslieLSanders

WEBSITE: http://llsanders.com/

AMAZON BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TNTLTZY

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 

Grier Cooper (also known as the writer in a dancer's body) is a California based writer, photographer, and dancer. She received her professional training from the School of American Ballet and performed worldwide with the San Francisco Ballet, Miami City Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet. Today she lives in a seaside hamlet with her husband, daughter and Coco Chanel (a black standard poodle). She draws on over thirty years of experience as a dancer, teacher and performer to create stories and art to inspire others.

 

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website: http://www.griercooper.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/griercooper

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/griercooper

 

Instagram: http://instagram.com/griercooper/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/griercooper

 

BUY THE BOOK LINKS:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Wish-Indigo-Dreams-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00ODETMP8/

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wish-grier-cooper/1120552221?ean=2940046226096  

 

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/wish-indigo-dreams-series-1/id928726780?mt=11  

Google Play:

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Grier_Cooper_Wish_Indigo_Dreams_Series_1?id=arTEBAAAQBAJ&hl=en

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/483854

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/wish-indigo-dreams-series-1

BLURB:
For Indigo Stevens, ballet classes at Miss Roberta’s ballet studio offer the stability and structure that are missing from her crazy home life. At almost 16, she hopes this is the year she will be accepted into the New York School of Ballet. First she must prove she’s ready, and that means ignoring Jesse Sanders – the cute boy with dimples who is definitely at the top of Miss Roberta’s List of Forbidden Things for Dancers.

 But Jesse is the least of Indigo’s concerns. When she discovers her mom is an alcoholic, it simultaneously explains everything and heaps more worry on Indigo’s shoulders. As her mom’s behavior becomes increasingly erratic, Indigo fights to maintain balance, protect her younger brothers from abuse, and keep her mother from going over the edge. When the violence at home escalates, Indigo realizes she can no longer dance around the issue. At the risk of losing everything, she must take matters into her own hands before it’s too late.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt One:
I hold the barre lightly with my left hand and begin moving when the music starts. It’s the same music I’ve heard in every ballet class I’ve taken for the past ten years. We always start with pliés.

 My knees bend in time to the music: demi plié, demi plié, grand plié. My body moves through the positions while my mind replays the scene in the car. The image of my mother’s uvula is stuck in my brain.

“Indigo, where is your focus this morning?” Miss Roberta’s voice pulls me back into the present moment. I glance in front of me at Marlene’s feet and realize I’m in the wrong position. I shake my head to clear it. Go away, Mom. This is the one place where I get away from you – even if it’s only for an hour and a half.

 Compared to the rest of my life, ballet classes are refreshingly orderly and predictable. Barre exercises always follow the same routine. Do everything that works the right leg, then turn and repeat everything with the left.

We move through the barre exercises. Every beat of the music dictates what comes next. The rhythm makes demands and the body answers with precision. Already my muscles are beginning to feel warm and stretchy.

 “Monique, your leg does not end at your ankle. Point those toes! Jeanine, you’re sagging. Stand up straight!” Miss Roberta’s voice carries through the room. Today she’s all in pinks with a floral chiffon headscarf. She’s the classic tiny dancer: dark-haired with pert features. Her eyes flicker across the class, constantly appraising technique and posture. Even though she’s tiny, she commands the room. If she sees imperfections or lack of good effort, she will call you out.