Saturday, February 17, 2018

Rattlesnake Hill by Leslie Wheeler Tour & Giveaway


Mystery/Suspense
Date Published:  2/16/18
Publisher:  Encircle Publications

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


It’s November in the Berkshires, a dreary time of dwindling light when the tourists have fled along with the last gasp of fall foliage. So when a stranger shows up in the sleepy hilltown of New Nottingham and starts asking questions, the locals don’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon.

            Bostonian Kathryn Stinson is on a deeply personal quest to solve a family mystery: the identity of a nameless beauty in an old photograph an ancestor brought with him to California over a century ago. But, as Kathryn quickly discovers, the hills possess a host of dark secrets – both ancient and new – that can only be revealed at the price of danger and even death.

Her suspicious neighbors on Rattlesnake Hill become openly hostile when Kathryn starts seeking answers to a more recent mystery: the murder of Diana Farley, who once occupied the house Kathryn is now renting. Was it Diana’s husband, who killed her to keep her from divorcing him, or her lover, Earl Barker, a backwoods charmer and leading member of a wild clan known for their violent tempers?

When Kathryn plunges into a passionate affair with Earl, she puts herself on a collision course with past and present. She must find out if Earl killed Diana, or risk becoming a victim herself.



About the Author

An award-winning author of books about American history and biographies, Leslie Wheeler has written three Miranda Lewis “living history” mysteries: Murder at Plimoth Plantation, Murder at Gettysburg, and Murder at Spouters Point. Her mystery short stories have appeared in numerous anthologies including Day of the Dark, Stories of Eclipse, and the Best New England Crime Stories series, published by Level Best Books, where she was a co-editor/publisher for six years. A member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime, she is Speakers Bureau Coordinator for the New England Chapter of SinC. Leslie divides her time between Cambridge, Massachusetts and the Berkshires, where she does much of her writing in a house overlooking a pond.


Contact Links

Twitter:@Leslie_Wheeler


Purchase Link






RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday, February 16, 2018

The Haunting of Dove Cote House by Rachel Jordan






Paranormal
Date Published: 16th February 2018

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


Following the death of her father Cat Fletcher returns to the family home where she lived until she was 18.

But Cat's memories of the past are blurry, despite dreaming regularly about Dove Cote House.

And her home coming is far from perfect, when in the true meaning of the expression, the past comes back to haunt you, does just that.


 Excerpt

“Can you tell me about the house’s history?”

Cat shook her head. “Very little I’m afraid. Only how it got its name and its reputation for being haunted.

It’s something Rob and I had talked about researching.

My parents never got round to doing it for fear of what others would say or think. They felt that it was easier to just let it go.

I had hoped to do it tomorrow, but with my husband arriving it doesn’t seem feasible now.”

“You know Cat it might be better to go to Winford Library”, Rob said.

“They have fantastic research facilities now and there is always the Museum too.”

“Well perhaps we can do that on Saturday,” James said, before adding “It’s something any number of us can do as many hands make light work. But if we can’t all go it doesn’t matter.”

Cat let out a deep sigh. “I’ll be honest I don’t know how Phil is going to react to this. Although he was good enough to tell me about the potential story, and he got suspended because of his actions. Don’t worry I’ll be there on Saturday no matter what. This is my house, where all these things have and still are happening, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it once and for all.”

“That’s the spirit if you’ll forgive my pun. Now one other thing that crossed my mind,” James said. “I’m assuming that once you have completed the research you’ll then start investigating and dealing with the spirit yourself. “

Cat nodded.

“You have some fantastic items to help you with that Cat.”

“Thanks, but it’s all down to Rob. Without his help I wouldn’t have known where to start.”

“Which reminds me,” Rob said. “Any problems if I bring my equipment over, and store it with yours?”

“None what so ever, and if you want to leave it here permanently feel free to do so.”

“Well in that case I’ll go and get it tomorrow. Fancy coming with me James? You can meet my folks.”

Cat grinned to herself as it was obvious neither man felt comfortable being around when Phil arrived.

“Good idea. I’d like to meet them very much.”

“Have you ever done a paranormal investigation like this before? “

“Yes, in fact I have on more than one occasion. I’ve been called in by investigators just in case they were dealing with something demonic.

The Church never approved when I did. I guess that all went against me in the end, but I stand by what I did and always will.

Now back to what I wanted to ask you.

Are we only dealing with the woman here, or is it both spirits? If you are happy to let the child continue residing here you can do so.”

“She’s never caused any trouble, and I guess she has become part of my life. I’m more than happy to let her stay.”

The words had hardly left Cat’s mouth, when every door in the house started opening and slamming uncontrollably.

“Okay,” Cat said loudly. “I don’t think that’s the answer I was meant to give.”

As the doors kept opening and closing, Cat, Rob and James looked on in horror as the table was dragged across the room, but more frighteningly as Cat’s books flew off the shelves and were flung at them by unseen hands. Then the curtains were pulled from their rails and cushions thrown about.

The unending banging of the doors had begun to make the house vibrate and Rob felt as if he was going to develop a violent headache because of the noise.

“For God’s sake stop this at once,” James’ clear voice shouted out.

The front door suddenly opened with a heavy thud: the bolts and locks ripped to pieces.

“Stop it please,” Cat screamed. “In the name of God just stop it.”

All activity in the house suddenly stopped as quickly as it had begun, and to Cat it felt as if she would hear a pin drop any moment it had gone so quiet.

Her eyes opened wide as she saw a dark form looming in the doorway, which slowly turned into the woman.

“Oh this isn’t good.”

James and Rob turned to look at Cat and then followed her gaze.

The spirit, which neither had seen until that moment, was drawing closer to them by the second.

The woman stood in front of James. “Get out of this house, you vile exorcist.”

The next second she was in front of Rob. Her movement that quick no one had seen it. “I’ll warn you a second time. You are to leave.”

Cat stood up tall as the spirit moved in front of her. She was staring at Cat intently, and for a moment, Cat was afraid her legs were going to give out under her. Instead she pulled herself together and stared back at the woman.

“Anything you want to say to me? Or is it only my friend’s you feel like threatening today?”

The woman raised one of her hands in Cat’s direction. “You are the biggest traitor of them all. You openly plan to get rid of me. How could you do that? How can you treat your mother this way?”

She pushed her hand towards Cat, and to everyone’s shock Cat was thrown backward violently, her head narrowly missing hitting against the window ledge.

With a high pitch shriek the spirit disappeared.

Rob and James ran to Cat to help her.

“I’m all right. Nothing feels broken and I’m lucky I didn’t bang my head.”

As she stood with the support of the others, Cat saw Phil standing in the doorway, shock registered on his face.

“Cat, in God’s name what just happened? This place looks like a bomb’s hit it!”


About the Author

Hi there. My name is Rachel Jordan

Two things I have loved from the time I was small are the paranormal and writing.

I like nothing more then curling up with a ghost story that keeps you wondering what will happen next. Or failing that watching one of my favorite paranormal films.

I did some freelance journalism many years ago, but I adore sitting down and writing stories.

Is it any wonder that I have decided to combine the two things I love the most?

"The Haunting of Dove Cote House", is my debut novel

I live in the United Kingdom.



Contact Links

Facebook   
Twitter  
Blog  



Purchase Link

RABT Book Tours & PR

Husband for Hire by Patricia A. Knight

Book: A Husband for Hire
Author: Patricia A. Knight
Release Date: 31st January
Genre: A Regency Historical Romance
Add to your TBR: Goodreads #AHusbandforHireTour
Synopsis:
Lady Eleanor Russell needed a husband. Immediately. With no male heir, when her father died, the vast family estate would revert to the Crown. But no man would choose an unattractive, outspoken, independent, spinster of mature years as a bride—so she’d buy a husband. An impoverished third son of aristocratic birth, Lord Miles Everleigh, tall, elegant and immensely handsome, relied on wealthy widows to clothe, house and feed him. In exchange, they received a charming, accomplished companion, both in and out of the bedroom. But this lifestyle wore away a man’s self-respect; he was not the male whore his step-brother had named him. When Eleanor “bought” Miles as a husband, she never intended to lose her heart. When he accepted her proposal, Miles never imagined he’d want more from Eleanor than her money.
Excerpt:
Excerpt of A Husband for Hire by Patricia A. Knight
© Patricia A. Knight
Chapter One
London, late February 1814
“T
hese are the best marital prospects you can discover? In all of London?”
The Lady Eleanor Constance Russell, sole offspring of The Right Honorable Earl of Rutledge and The Right Honorable Countess of Rutledge slapped the sheet of paper she’d been reading down on top of the mahogany desk and bestowed on her London barrister the look of a woman at her wit’s end. Grief for her dying parents and a sense of utter desperation had driven her to actions she considered borderline insanity. If she accepted any of the names on this list, she might as well rent rooms in Bedlam. Eleanor fought the hysteria surging in her breast and tried for a more cajoling tone. “Surely you can come up with more worthy candidates?”
The barrister who had served her family for the last forty years sat immobile in his great chair, hunkered down behind his great desk, his hands steepled in front of his narrow-lipped mouth. “This was no small task you set before me, Lady Russell. We are at war with France. Many of our most eligible men fill our army and navy.”
Her troubled gaze swung outward. Outside the windows of Elsington & Elsington, the London hansom cabs clopped past in the traffic-clogged street. Everyone had business to conduct it seemed. With a heavy sigh, she returned to the issue that had torn her away from the bedside of her failing but beloved parents and the celebrated stud farm into which she’d poured twenty-plus years of her life.
Her eyes flicked to the sheet in front of her, and she jabbed at it with an index finger.  “Sir Clive Wellery. Fifty-six years of age, just interred his fourth wife, has no property of worth, eleven dependents ranging in age from two months to twenty-two years, known for a propensity to overindulge in spirits and gambling, currently renting a six-bedroom house in Bloomsbury.” She shuddered and whispered, “Eleven children.”  Her eyes rose and gazed at the gentleman across the desk from her then dropped back to the paper.
“Lord Hilary Vance. Sixty-four years of age, of no property or spouse. No dependents, an unfortunate victim of the ‘China disease.’”  She cleared her throat. “I understand there is no opium den he does not frequent.” 
The barrister sat motionless in his chair and gave her a disapproving frown. She rolled her eyes. “I am thirty-years-old, sir. I’m not an ignorant debutante.”
“I disapprove of your unorthodox education, Ma’am. It did you a great disservice, and so I told your father.”
You old fusspot. Eleanor swallowed her retort and returned her gaze to the page on the desk. “And then there is Sir Aubrey Dedhamreally, Mr. Elsington? Really? The fellow lives at the molly houses.” She frowned as her barrister stirred awkwardly in his high-backed chair. “Did you think I didn’t know the meaning of the term? How am I supposed to persuade a sodomite into marriage with a woman when he is not inclined toward women in the first place?” She scowled. “Though perhaps my possessing no feminine attributes is a recommendation.”
“Lady Russell, please…”
Eleanor held up a gloved hand. “Stop. I know what you are going to say. £30,000 will make any man blind. And this last entry.” She sighed and relaxed her upright spine for one moment before resuming her erect posture and folding her hands in her lap. “This last marital candidate.” She could feel the heat climb her neck into her cheeks at the thought of a man that elegant ever giving her a second look and if he did she’d probably turn and flee.
“The Lord Miles Everleigh, twenty-five, the third of four sons, whose eldest brother is the new Duke of Chelsony. I understand Lord Miles lives on the charity of “friends” in return for his convivial companionship and educated guidance on the purchase of fine bloodstock. What could induce…”
She closed her eyes and fought back the tears that threatened. How had she come to this? Was she going to go through with an action that in her more rational moments caused her to lose the contents of her stomach? In short, yes. The alternative was even more appalling.
 One thought of the manor house with its 100,000 acres of attached properties and villages all peopled with men and women who relied on her family for their livelihood... the thought of all this reverting to the Crown because of some quirk in the laws of primogeniture? Accompanying the loss would be the upheaval and complete displacement of the lovely Thoroughbred mares and stallions of impeccable breeding whose pedigrees she could recite to the nth generation and all their offspring, in short, the entire racing stud she’d helped her father make so fabulously successful. Well, it was enough to make anyone cry.
Despite having three torturous seasons on the marriage mart ten years ago, no eligible man—there’d been numerous made ineligible by virtue of being unacceptable to her parents or unacceptable to her—had stepped forward with an offer to make her his wife. All the wealth and property she would bring with her was insufficient incentive to overcome her plain features, awkward deportment and utter lack of the slightest feminine attribute, so she’d have to buy a husband—and soon. With no male heir, upon the death of her father, the estate, and all its entailed properties would be subject to the peregrinations of escheat.
“Mr. Elsington…please. What could possibly recommend me to Lord Miles Everleigh? Even rusticating as I have been, I hear the on-dits about the ever-so-handsome and sophisticated Lord Miles Everleigh. There will always be other options for a man like this, much better options than a gawky plank of an ape-leader with shriveled social skills who reeks of the stables and is his senior by five years.”
The man across from her cleared his throat. “My lady…if I may be allowed…” He looked over his pince-nez. “The marriage agreement that you have required me to draw up demands a gentleman of a certain …” He shifted uncomfortably. “Ah…”
“Let me assist you. The word you want is desperation. It wants a gentleman who has reached a point of desperation. Well, Mr. Elsington, find more candidates. This week. I’m running out of time.”
“Err, yes, Lady Russell. Quite.” His eyes softened. “How is your father, my lady?”
Eleanor dropped her eyes and fought for composure until she was sure she could speak without succumbing to tears. “The physicians tell me, ‘at most a few months’. He could go at any time.”
“My sincere regrets, ma’am. Lord Rutledge is a fine gentleman.”
With a murmur of thanks, she inhaled and rose to her full height. Mr. Elsington was not a short man, but as he stood to escort her out, she topped him by a full head, reminding her yet again of her abysmal lack of any physical feature possessed by an even a moderately desirable woman. She hardened her jaw as she marched out of the law offices to her waiting carriage. There was no point in dwelling on a source of immense hurt that her adoring parents and formidable fortune hadn’t protected her from, nor the reasons for her present desperate action. She decided on the instant to go to the one place in all of London where she’d always felt at home regardless of the strictures of polite society and Richard Tattersal’s distinct lack of welcome for those of her sex.
“Take me to Tattersalls, John. They have advertised some young breeding stock I want to inspect. We need some outside lines to cross on Dare To Dream.”
“Yes, your ladyship.” With a tip of his beaver brim, he helped her into the carriage and climbed onto the box. At John Coachman’s instruction, the groom stepped away from the leaders, sprang to the back of the carriage and the team of beautifully matched bays stepped smartly away.
Buy the Book:
US Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/2E84Gkh
Universal Amazon Link: http://myBook.to/H4H
Meet The Author:
Patricia A. Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas with her horses, Italian Greyhounds and rescue mutts—and the best man on the face of the earth—oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see. Word to the wise: don’t swim in the pool after dark.
Connect with Patricia on social media: Facebook
Website         Twitter