Day: May 31, 2022

Serenade
Morgan Shamy
(The Dark Nocturne, #1)
Publication date: May 31st 2022
Genres: Mystery, Paranormal, Young Adult

St. Paul’s Academy of the Arts isn’t your usual boarding school…

When November Huntington is sent away to live with her long-lost family, she’s forced to attend a music school for the gifted—which wouldn’t be a problem if November were musical. She’s an athlete through and through, and hates being different.

The kids at the school don’t welcome her, they’re wary of her presence, especially Vincent, a brooding teenage boy involved with dark spirits, who can make time stop when he plays his piano. In fact, all her classmates are all obsessed with playing their instruments. And odd things happen when the do.

But something is off about the school. Deaths have occurred through the years, students showing up dead the same way November’s parents were killed—with their throats ripped out.

A killer is on the loose… November must figure out a way to stop whoever it is, balance her feelings for Vincent, and solve her parents ’past before she, too, is numbered among the dead.

The first in a Paranormal Fantasy Saga by debut author Morgan Shamy.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

She started forward once more, silently cursing, when a soft melody drifted from the woods. The sound jarred her to a stop, and her heart suddenly spiked. She wasn’t alone. Someone was out here. The music drew closer, heightening. It was slow and haunting, tinkling, like a music box. It didn’t sound like music from a radio or phone. It moved through the trees, wrapping around the bushes, spreading out toward her. She could feel it all around her, soaking into her.

“Hello?” she asked, backing up a step. She squinted into the trees. “Hello?”

No one answered.

The music continued, and she wrapped her arms around herself, backing up further.

“Hello?”

Deep into the forest, a bright light appeared, small at first until it burst outward. The light seared her eyes, large and white, and she ripped her gaze away. A voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to run. The music continued to play on the air, soaring toward her. It was getting closer, becoming thicker, heavier.

This couldn’t be happening. She was having hallucinations. She needed to get out of here. She needed to find stability. Ground herself.

She pushed herself faster, her feet pounding on the forest floor. But the music slithered after her, brushing along her back, carrying with her as she ran.

“Stop!” she yelled. “Stop!” She continued to race, until she dropped to her knees. She covered her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. “Stop!”

In a blink, the music halted, and the light dissipated, but the music still echoed inside her head, hanging on the air. She stretched her eyes wide, her gaze darting side to side. She stayed frozen, her knees on the dusty ground. Her heart beat loud as the breeze picked up and tickled the hair off her face. Birds chirped, and the forest came alive again. She slowly lowered her hands.

Everything was normal. Everything was fine. She had been hallucinating.

She huffed out a frustrated breath and headed back down the trail, shaking out her arms. She was stupid to think someone had been after her, or to think she’d heard music or seen such a bright light, but the sweet melodic sound wouldn’t leave her alone. The melody lingered inside her head, weaving through her memory. Maybe someone had been there, and maybe she had been its target.

Author Bio:

Morgan Shamy is an ex-ballerina turned YA writer. She has been immersed in the arts since the young age of 4, where she performed various roles alongside a professional ballet company for over seven years, and has danced on prestigious stages like soloing at Carnegie Hall in New York City. She has taught hundreds of girls in her fifteen years of teaching, where some of her students have received full-ride scholarships to schools like School of American Ballet, the Harid Conservatory, Kirov Academy of Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, to name a few.

Morgan discovered writing when her three-year-old son was diagnosed with cancer. It was through that experience which instilled the need to share art and magic with children through words on the page.

Morgan is also an accomplished concert pianist. She was the first girl in Utah to receive the 75 pt. Gold Cup in the Utah Federation of Music in piano solo/concerto competition. Morgan currently lives with her X-Games gold-medalist husband and four children in Salt Lake City, Utah.

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The Bequest
B.E. Baker
(The Birch Creek Ranch, #1)
Publication date: November 30th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Women’s Fiction

Two widows, six kiddos, and a will that leaves them a massive cattle ranch, but only if they work it for a year.

Abigail and Amanda may have married brothers, but they have almost nothing else in common (and really, they never did get along very well). After their husbands both pass away, they have no reason to interact. Their connection drops to an awkward phone call on birthdays and an exchange of holiday cards.

Until an eccentric uncle of their husbands ’leaves a massive cattle ranch to the women’s minor children. . . if they work the ranch themselves. A ranch that’s located near a small town on the border of Wyoming that isn’t too keen on outsiders.

They’re both going to turn the bequest down, clearly. It’s not like either of them could properly raise their kids or find love again in a backwater province like Birch Creek. But when things at home change dramatically—for both moms—they decide to give it a try. . . just for the summer.

What could possibly go wrong in a mere three months? (Or more importantly… what might go right?)

Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Pamela Kelley said, “B. E. Baker takes you right to the heart of the small town that two widowed sisters-in-law land in very unexpectedly. Can they survive the year they need to spend there to keep it? I really enjoyed reading Bridget’s romantic women’s fiction debut.”

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—

EXCERPT:

“Mrs. Brooks? Mrs. Nathaniel Brooks?”

I haven’t been called Mrs. Nathaniel Brooks in more than a year, not since before Nate died. It catches me by surprise and leaves me almost unable to speak.

“Hello?”

“Yes,” I manage to say. “That’s me.” I clear my throat.

“Good.” The man shuffles some papers. “My name is Karl Swift.” Something about his voice, perhaps the wobbly timbre, makes me think that Karl is quite old.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Swift?”

“Er, well, it might be more correct for me to tell you what I think I can help you with.”

He sounds like Bilbo Baggins at his birthday party.

“Okay.”

“I’m actually a lawyer as well—I found your name on your law firm website from a simple search. I’m calling to notify you that last night, I formally read a will that had been posted in all the local papers and online.”

“A will for whom?” I still have no idea why he called, and I’m beginning to think he was improperly named–he’s definitely not ‘swift. ’Spit it out, Ol ’Man River!

“Jedediah Brooks passed away almost two weeks ago.”

Brooks. He’s related to Nate, then. The name finally registers. “Nate’s uncle?”

“Even so,” Mr. Swift says.

“I’m very sorry to hear that Uncle Jed passed,” I say, rotely. I didn’t meet Nate’s uncle more than a handful of times, and even then we barely exchanged a handful of words. He had a full head of white hair the first time we met, nearly twenty years ago at my wedding to Nate. He must have lived quite a long life.

“Thank you. His death was quite a shock, but at least it was quick. Jed always said he wanted it to be fast, not drawn out.”

My hand trembles where it’s holding the phone. Nate’s death wasn’t quick at all—and it was so fast I could barely think straight. “Is that why you called? To let me know that he’d passed?”

“Not precisely,” Mr. Swift says. “You see, as I understand it, both of Mr. Brooks ’nephews, Nathaniel and Paul, predeceased him.”

I murmur my assent. They were both so young. It still sounds so wrong to agree that they’re both dead, even now.

“In that case, there is quite a substantial bequest made to your children, Mrs. Brooks.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jed owned a three thousand, two hundred and eleven acre cattle ranch out here, on the northern side of Utah. It’s one of only six properties in the state that have stayed with the same family continuously, all the way back to the original land grant. In fact, portions of the property are actually in Wyoming, but it’s mostly in a place called Daggett County.”

“Are you saying that my children’s great-uncle left them a three-thousand acre ranch?”

“Yes, but it’s not quite that simple.”

I wish Mr. Swift would cut to the chase. For a lawyer, he certainly lacks in clarity. “What does the will say, then?”

“Specifically, it provides that the ranch and all its appurtenances, including the home, a guest house, two large barns, an outbuilding for storage, and some three hundred and fifty head of cattle should be left to your children and the children of Nathaniel’s brother, Paul, per stirpes.”

I wonder what something like that is worth. Maybe Ethan could get his Razr after all. “Well, that’s unexpected.”

“However.” Mr. Swift rustles more papers. “In order for the bequest to vest, the heirs or, in the case that they’re minors, their appointed guardians, must adequately and actively operate the Birch Creek Ranch for a period of one full year.”

“Operate it?” I ask. “Meaning, we can’t just sell it?”

“That’s correct. In order for your children to inherit under the terms of the will, you would need to move here and run the ranch for a year.”

Author Bio:

Bridget loves her husband (every day) and all five of her kids (most days).

She’s a lawyer, but does as little legal work as possible. She has three quarter horse geldings, a Holsteiner (jumping) horse, and she spends too much time riding and not enough time writing. (Or too much time writing and not enough time riding, depending on your perspective!)

She has more chickens than she’ll admit to having, two lions head rabbits, a cat, two dogs (one bouncy and one yappy). She makes cookies waaaaay too often and believes they should be their own food group. In a (possibly misguided) attempt at balancing the scales, she kickboxes daily.

So if you don’t like her books, her kids, her horses, her chickens, or her cookies, maybe don’t tell her in person.

B.E. Baker is the romance/women’s fiction penname for Bridget E. Baker, who also writes fantasy, end of the world, and dystopian books that add a little magic to the world.

Please sign up for Bridget’s fantasy or romance newsletters on her website at http://www.BridgetEBakerWrites.com or click Follow on her bio above to get notices and updates when she releases new books!

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Freedom or Death
Adria Carmichael
(Juche, #4)
Publication date: May 31st 2022
Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult

A highly addictive Young Adult Dystopian Survival Saga that will keep you glued to the pages.

Areum and Nari are arrested and face imminent doom, but are saved at the last minute by an unexpected and unspeakable betrayal.

Still, they are far from being out of the woods. As they are reassigned to food gathering duty in the mountains, they must continue their fight for survival under the constant threat of daily executions and the rampant starvation sweeping through the prison camp. And with time running out for Nari, Areum is more desperate than ever to find a way to escape, making her forge risky new alliances that until now would have been unthinkable.

As the situation in the camp deteriorates further, their survival comes down to their ability to work as a team. But dark secrets and lies continue to be revealed, sending the fragile coalition to the verge of collapse at an alarming speed.

Will they make it out in time?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

The guards led us along the dark, empty streets of the Village of the Strayed as an ice-cold drizzle sprayed us from above. They didn’t tell us where they were taking us or why, and we didn’t ask. We already knew the answers.

Neither Nari nor I resisted the relentless progression through the night. There was no screaming or kicking or biting or clawing. We just plodded forward compliantly, aware that any attempt to fight our silent captors would only make things worse. Or, at the very least—expedite the imminent torment awaiting us in the musty dungeons deep underground.

Nari’s soft sobbing behind me was the only sound I could hear over the beating of my heart and the stamping of heavy guard boots against the muddy surface beneath us. It took some time for the light rain to fully soak my short hair and glue it to my scalp, but once saturated, large drops of water began trickling down my forehead and into my swollen eyes. It didn’t hurt, but the sensation was strange and made me blink.

Considering the direness of our situation, I expected my chest to fill to the bursting point with uncontrollable panic at any moment. But it didn’t set in. Not yet at least. I knew it was just a matter of time before that horrible feeling returned to assert its rightful control over me. But at this precise moment, there was only one feeling consuming my existence—confusion. And as we passed the School of Juche, drawing closer to our inevitable destination, that feeling fueled a myriad of questions stampeding through the chaos in my mind.

What happened to Jun Ha?

Had the dark figure that entered the back of the truck been our father?

Why hadn’t Mina, Mrs. Choy, and Hana showed up at the meeting point?

And how in the Great General’s name did Sun Hee find out about our escape?

However, out of all the questions devoid of answers, one tormented me more than all the rest combined.

Author Bio:

Adria Carmichael is a writer of dystopian fiction with a twist. When she is not devouring dystopian and post-apocalyptic content in any format – books, movies, TV-series and PlayStation games – she is crafting the epic and highly-addictive Juche saga, her 2020 debut novel series that takes place in the brutal, totalitarian nation of Choson. When the limit of doom and gloom is reached, a 10K run on a sunny day or binging a silly sitcom on a rainy day is her go-to way to unwind.

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