Pilgrimage Through the Storm Release Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Poetry / Prayer

Date Published: Nov 20, 2024

Publisher:  Serapis Bey Publishing

“One does not become enlightened by imagining oneself as a figure of light but by making the darkness conscious.” 

Carl Jung (1875 – 1961)

 

A deeper level of consciousness can only be birthed from a space of darkness, the void of all possibility, as all of life has arisen from nothingness. Such is the paradox of awakening. When you find yourself held in suspension, and when you are catapulted out of everything you know to be true, it is easy to forget the truth of who you really are.

However, no matter the outer experiences, your innermost essence is unchangeable.

A sense of isolation and separation are undoubtedly facets of the dark night, but in reality you are never alone. Many people have walked this path before you, there are those who are currently engulfed in its midst and those who will follow.

The pieces in this book landed as my own journey through the wilderness. Each fragment is a lived experience, and each lived experience is a mentor.

I offer you these words as your companion while you transition through your own inner shadows…may they provide comfort as you move through the deepest levels of release and find your way home, to a self-compassion you never knew existed.

Purchase Your Copy Today

 

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

The Start-Up Puzzle Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

Nonfiction / Business

 

There’s a lot of over-promises and incorrect advice being given online on starting a successful enterprise. This wrong advice could cost someone their life savings and importantly ruin their life ambition and dream. Therefore, in partnership with the Erasmus University Rotterdam, we decided to pull together a practical how-to guide explaining the process successful start-ups go through: The Start-up Puzzle. It explains the different steps by using real-life examples and has an academic section explaining the theory behind these steps, all augmented by interviews with experts in the field of start- and scale-ups. What makes this guide unique? Real-life examples and expert interviews augmented with a birds-eye overview of the academic theory create a practical guide that is both understandable, practical, and implementable.

 

About The Author

RvP is known as the go-to person to simplify & break down complex business challenges into understandable questions you can deal with. He has a remarkable 30+ year track record as both a senior leader in a Fortune 50 company in operational regional and local jobs, global marketing and strategy roles, innovation and external ventures jobs - world of abundance of resources, shortage of  entrepreneurship. On the other hand, he was closely involved as an entrepreneur and advisor to many start & scale-ups in FMCG, Luxury, and MedTech, a world that is often dominated by scarcity, and thus the only way to survive is by taking risk, and coming up with creative out of the box solutions that have never been done before. Currently, he is active as a senior consultant, advisor to start & scale-ups, an avid (public) speaker, a University lecturer, and a high-altitude tour skier, Robert strives to make a difference in the lives of those who aspire to be involved in creating new ventures, in starting enterprises as well as big Corporates that want to be inspired by the creativity that a culture of scarcity breeds.

 

Contact Link

Website

Wildcard Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Sci-Fi Romance, BDSM

Date Published: November 22, 2024

 

 

 

Passion’s the pot when Rowan Kerr draws the Wildcard.

 

Though she lives in a world of Beyonce and iPhones, Indra Fox thinks she may be an alien. She’s too strong, too fast, and heals too quickly to be merely human. But she doesn’t know for sure, because her parents refused to tell her. Nor would they explain why she -- and her equally superhuman best friend, Diana Newman -- were raised to be warriors.

When their families are murdered, Indra and Diana seek revenge on their killers, Satan’s Horsemen. Then Diana is kidnapped, and Indra goes undercover at a strip club the gang owns to discover where her friend has been taken.

But when Rowan Kerr walks into the club, Indra realizes he’s even more powerful than she is. Rowan says he knows who she really is and what she was created to do, but she must go with him to learn the truth.

Indra will do anything to save Diana. Including embracing her destiny as something more than human.

Rowan thinks Indra could be the teammate -- and lover -- he dreams of. But she’s mad as hell about being kept in ignorance, and she’s convinced that she’s been betrayed by the woman he works for. What’s worse, she’s not wrong. Can he convince her to take a chance on him? And can Indra and Rowan defeat the very real aliens who are behind Diana’s abduction?

 

They’d better, or humanity will pay the price for their failure.

 

 

 

The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

EXCERPT

Rowan

I eyed the long, low stucco building as I got out of the car.

Pink neon depicted the outline of a writhing nude woman with a tail and cat ears wrapped around a purple neon stripper pole. More neon read “Pole Katz Gentleman’s Club,” in red.

You sure this is the right address? I asked my computer implant.

Qubit’s silky female voice replied, Her nanos ping from this location, and have been doing so for five hours a night for thirty-eight days. There’s a 93.8 percent chance she’s working here.

Why? She sure doesn’t need the money. I frowned at the neon stripper. Has to be hunting.

Odds are running at 87.6, Qubit agreed.

Indra Fox was going to be about as happy to see me as a serial killer finding cops at the door. And for the same reason.

I headed for the purple awning over the club’s entrance. Even without enhanced senses, I’d have been able to hear the music -- Beyonce purring about getting frisky in a limo.

Qubit displayed results from sensor scans and web searches along the periphery of my visual field, flashing the club’s layout and the number of people inside -- one hundred and fifty-three patrons and staff. Of those, one hundred and fifty-two were Nats -- natural humans. There was only one who wasn’t. Indra Fox.

Double doors led into a narrow, black-walled foyer vibrating with music just short of deafening. To my left stood a cashier’s window where a bored-looking woman in a bare-midriff Pole Katz T manned a Square station. A sign over the window informed me of the twenty-dollar cover charge.

“Hi, there,” the cashier purred, giving me an approving once-over.

Pulling out my wallet, I peeled off a twenty and handed it over.

“Thanks,” she said. “Enjoy.”

“I’m sure I will.” I turned to find a narrow-eyed bouncer glowering by the curtained entry to the main room. He wore black chinos and a black T that said SECURITY in all caps. He looked the part, too -- six-foot-three, 232.8 pounds, per Qubit’s sensors -- with skin the color of teak, a shaved head, and full-sleeve tats on massive arms. Judging from his expression, he didn’t like the looks of me. Probably because big as he was, I was bigger. I suspected he was also trying to figure out if I was a cop. Or worse, if I’d get drunk and disorderly, and if he could handle me if I did.

Dude, you wouldn’t have a prayer.

“Don’t touch the girls,” he warned. “Be a gentleman.”

“I’m never anything but.”

He looked dubious, but I gave him a twenty-dollar tip, and he relaxed as if reassured. Which might be a bit premature, depending on what happened with Fox.

I stepped past him through the curtained doorway into an eye-searing storm of thumping music and colored light. The club’s dark walls were covered with neon silhouettes of women in erotic poses, and the floor was scuffed dark wood. A curving translucent bar glowed to the right, edged in yet more neon.

You need to buy a drink first, Qubit told me. There’s an etiquette to patronizing these places, and you don’t want to draw attention.

Yeah, I’d hate to be conspicuous. I was six and a half feet tall. Conspicuous was pretty much baked into the cake. Snorting, I headed to the bar to collect an overpriced Scotch, then turned to work my way through the crowd as Qubit scanned for our target.

The focus of the room was an oval stage with a pair of sturdy chrome poles, a set of four steps at one end. A ring of plump chairs in red velvet surrounded it, occupied by rapt patrons. Additional groupings of chairs and tables clustered around that, mostly men, with a few couples scattered here and there.

A blonde Nat girl worked one of the poles to the cheers and hoots of the customers. I headed for the chairs around the stage.

If you sit there, you’ll be expected to tip every dancer, Qubit warned as I dropped into the sole unoccupied seat.

Money not being a problem -- one of the perks of working for Mama -- I shrugged. Fine. If Fox is dancing, I want to make eye contact. According to her file, the only one of us Indra had ever met was Diana Newman. I wanted to see how she’d react to me.

The blonde dancer bounced upward, grabbed the pole hand over hand and swung her way around it, arching her leanly muscled body into a seductive curve. She was down to a G-string and pasties, so she must be most of the way through her act.

I would have been interested, but I could smell her. Not that she smelled bad -- fresh sweat, some kind of floral shampoo and citrus body wash, a hint of mint from her mouthwash. But underneath that, she smelled Nat. So no, not my type, though she had the kind of lean grace you get from swinging around a pole for hours a day.

Frowning, I watched her spin and grind. Why hadn’t Mama ordered Indra Fox and Diana Newman picked up when their parents were murdered? Or if not then, once it became clear they were stalking the killers?

Instead, Mama had let the two run. Now Newman was offline too, and Fox was still killing assholes.

The blonde finished her routine. Absently, I held up a ten. The Nat sauntered over and knelt so I could tuck it into her G-string. Giving me a dazzling smile, she winked. “Want a lap dance?”

I smiled and shook my head. Looking disappointed, she stood and headed for the next bill. The guy who waved it looked a lot more enthusiastic.

This whole fucking thing is weird. Fox has capped four men in the past year. Why not pick her up before now? Mama doesn’t approve of merking people, even actual mercs.

It was a rhetorical question, but Qubit answered anyway. She didn’t share her reasoning.

There’s a shock.

Not that I was shedding any tears for Fox’s victims. According to the police files Qubit had hacked, they’d been members of Satan’s Horsemen, a mercenary gang suspected in a slew of illegal shit -- drug trafficking, prostitution, gun running, murder for hire. No wonder the cops didn’t care they’d ended up room temperature. Though judging by the crime scene pics, Fox’s temper was almost as nasty as mine.

The local po-po also suspected Pole Katz was run by the Horsemen, though a couple of raids had turned up jack in the way of evidence. All they’d managed to do was charge two girls with allowing a little too much groping during lap dances.

Any of the gang present?

 

About the Author

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.

 

Author Links

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

Educational Disobedience Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours

 

Nonfiction / Education

Date Published: 10-06-2024

 

Educational Disobedience is a compelling and transformative guide for parents, educators, and advocates committed to reimagining traditional educational systems. Drawing from her extensive experience as an educator, homeschool advocate, and law enforcement professional, Dr. Mabry challenges the conventional paradigms of schooling that often fail underserved and marginalized students. With practical advice and deeply personal insights, she explores how parents can use homeschooling to reclaim their children’s education.

Dr. Mabry argues that educational disobedience is not about defiance but about empowerment—empowering parents to resist systems that perpetuate inequity and disempower children, particularly those from at-risk communities. She provides a roadmap for creating individualized, flexible learning paths that focus on student well-being, literacy, and personal growth. The book also highlights how cooperative educational models, like her own Tiers Free Homeschool Cooperative, can serve as community-driven alternatives to traditional schooling.

Educational Disobedience is not only a call to action but a beacon of hope for parents seeking to revolutionize their children’s learning experience. It’s a must-read for those ready to challenge the status quo and advocate for educational justice. 

Excerpt

The Original Educational Disruptor

My grandfather grew up during an era when teaching Blacks to read and write was downright dangerous. He was given an opportunity to learn because he passed as white. Passing is a concept with deep historical roots, particularly in the United States, where individuals of mixed race, especially African Americans, would present themselves as white to avoid racial segregation and discrimination. I have some experience with this too because as a feminine-presenting African American lesbian, I often rely on the ability to blend in when I’m in public or unsure about the safety of my surroundings. I imagine my grandfather felt much the same way. 

When my grandfather married my grandmother, his ability to pass became limited in many situations. So, he gravitated more to the Black community where my grandmother was accepted. In the 1940s, they lived in an area with other Black sharecroppers, but my grandfather was the only sharecropper who could read and write. 

My grandmother knew how dangerous this was for him and their family so she frequently discouraged him from making this fact public knowledge. I grew up hearing my mom say, “Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.” As a kid, I learned this meant to keep secrets. As an adult, I realize this was the passage of generational trauma. 

The turning point for my grandfather came during one harvest season when he watched so many sharecroppers being cheated out of profits that were rightfully theirs. My grandmother begged him not to challenge the status quo but my grandfather knew an injustice when he saw it, and this time he leveraged his passing privilege to change it. One by one, my grandfather began teaching the Black sharecrop- pers how to read, write, and count their money. He explained what working on halves truly meant and showed them how to sell some of their harvest on their own instead of turning everything over to the land owner.

About the Author

Dr. Annise Mabry is an educator, advocate, and founder of The Dr. Annise Mabry Foundation. She specializes in alternative education and community engagement, with a focus on creating inclusive and empowering learning opportunities.

 

Contact Link

Website

 

Purchase Your Copy

 

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

Falcon Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: November 22, 2024

 

It’s all fun and games until my ex shows up from the dead.

 

Gina: For over a year I’ve lived in fear, a monster terrorizing me within the gates of the Grim Road MC compound. The club took care of the physical problem, but demons still ride me hard. I’ve learned to trust the people I interact with on a daily basis, I’m still too anxious to explore the compound unless I’m with one of the old ladies or Lemon. Or Falcon… He always seems to be there when the fear threatens to swallow me whole. He’s protective and caring, and he takes me for rides on his Harley. Which he had painted pink because he found out I wanted to ride a pink bike. How many men in a motorcycle club did that?

Falcon: What happened to Gina at the hands Grim Road, myself included, is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. My only chance at redemption is to help her heal and feel safe again. I’m too old for her, but I can’t seem to care. I want to protect her, but I’m watching her to an unhealthy degree, waiting for the times she needs someone to bring her back to reality and assure her she’s safe. Until the day she invites me inside her sanctuary without a chaperone. I’d never take advantage of Gina. Not intentionally. Then again, I never expected my ex fiancé to come back from the dead.

 

EXCERPT

Falcon

The soft cry coming from Gina’s bedroom window damned near broke my heart. She did fine most days, when she had the girls to distract her. But at night, when she was alone in that house, nightmares visited her regularly. Those nightmares were partly my fault and that was why I couldn’t let go of this need to see she was safe. Which is why I was currently sitting underneath her open window outside her house. At one in the morning.

Yeah. That wasn’t creepy or anything. Thank God she still stayed in the compound. I knew she wasn’t really comfortable here, but she had nowhere else to go. Though she typically stayed in her house or in the fenced-in backyard, she would very occasionally leave the compound to grocery shop or whatever. She never went anywhere inside the compound by herself other than to drive from her house to the main gate and back.

Another soft cry followed by a small sob echoed in the night. It was a scared, lonely sound, much like that of a child lost from its parents in a crowd. Among the myriad night noises in the wildlife reserve where our compound was nestled, she sounded like a caged animal too scared to fight.

With a shake of my head, I dug my phone out from my back pocket and moved away from the window slightly behind a shrub and called her. When I heard her phone play a trilling notification, I moved farther away so she couldn’t hear me speaking through her open window. She answered on the fourth ring.

“H-hello?”

“Hey, Gina. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I -- no. You didn’t. Falcon?”

“Yeah. Probably shoulda led with that, huh?” I tried to make fun of myself to distract her. I knew from months of watching over her and listening to her nightmares she was always shaken when she woke.

“Sorry. I should have checked to see who was calling before I answered.” She sounded a little more awake and even managed a small laugh.

“I’m really sorry. I thought I saw your light on and thought something might be wrong. About the time you answered, I realized it was Rocket and Lemon’s place.”

There was a short pause and I thought I heard her shuffling around. Maybe sliding the covers from her body so she could sit on the edge of the bed. And, Goddamn, that image needed to stay the fuck outta my head!

“You were… checking on me?”

“Well, yeah.” I hoped I sounded sheepish and embarrassed but I wasn’t that great an actor. But if it pulled her out of her nightmares, I’d suffer through it. Gladly. “I guess I was.”

She took in a shuddering breath before speaking again. “Because of what happened?”

I had to be careful about my answer here. I didn’t want her thinking I felt obligated to look after her, but I didn’t want to scare her either. God knew she had plenty of reasons to be scared of me.

“Because you need someone looking after you and I kind of enjoy the job.”

“You don’t have to, you know. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. You’re strong. You need time to heal and to learn to trust yourself again.”

“I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“Why not? What should I have said?” I kept my voice neutral and conversational. I wanted her to keep talking so she could settle her mind. I always managed to find a way to get through to her when she had a nightmare. I don’t know if she suspected I was watching her or not, but whenever I’d hear her crying or calling out in fear, I’d send a text. Or knock on her door. Or call. If she’d noticed the timing, she hadn’t said anything. Positive or negative.

“I thought you’d tell me I’d have to learn to trust you. Why would you think I didn’t trust myself?”

I had to smile. I’d led her straight where I wanted her to go and she’d done so without hesitation. “Because you already trust everyone in this club. What you don’t trust is your own judgment telling you to trust us.”

She was silent so long I thought I might have overplayed my hand. Then her soft voice asked, “How do you know I trust you?”

“Because, when Rocket and Lemon said the club would pay for a place outside the compound if you wanted to get away from us, you declined.”

“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I just couldn’t stand the thought of being out on my own again. I was obviously not very good on my own the first time.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Gina. Once he got you back here, it was easy for him to make you feel like you didn’t have a choice. You know better now and you choose to stay.”

“I never really thought about it that way. I couldn’t get past having to be on my own. And Lemon… well…”

“What about her? You know she’s solidly in your corner. Right?”

“That’s just it, Falcon. I do know. She didn’t make excuses for anyone. She didn’t doubt anything I told her. She believed everything and I was quick to tell her you guys thought I was willing when… you know… when you…” Even now she couldn’t say it, and I wanted to claw out my own heart.

“Yeah, honey. I know. We’re all ashamed of that, even if we didn’t know. We could have taken the time to talk to you more. Or at all, really.” I gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter. “More importantly, we could have made sure you knew you weren’t in danger from any of us. All you had to do was tell someone you wanted away from Hammer and we’d have removed you from the situation and asked questions later. We didn’t make it clear so that’s on us.”

“I guess,” she said softly. “Seems like both of us were victims of Hammer’s deception.”

“I’d say that’s a fair statement.”

I heard sounds on her end as she moved from her bedroom. I heard a door open, then close. Moments later, the light in her living room came on.

“You said you saw a light. That you thought it was mine.” She sounded better now. More herself. Though I hated that she’d donned the air of indifference she hid behind, I was glad that, at least subconsciously, she’d trusted me enough to tell me what she had.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Are you close by, then?”

“Yeah. Just outside.” Not a lie.

“Um, would you, uh…” She cleared her throat. “Would you like some coffee?”

“You good with me being in your space without one of the women nearby?”

“I think so.” Her voice said she was trying to convince herself she could do this and wasn’t doing a very good job. “You’d leave if I got overwhelmed. Right?”

“Absolutely. In fact, why don’t we sit outside on the porch? That way you can keep the door between us if you want to.”

There was a pause, then a sniffle before she spoke again. “You’d do that? Just to make sure I was comfortable?”

“Gina, honey. Of course. I like bein’ around you. I like talkin’ to you and just wavin’ at you as I drive by. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you always want to spend that kind of time with me.” God, could I sound any more pathetic? Did I fucking care?

“Come over, Falcon. I’ve unlocked the door and am making coffee. Let yourself in. We can sit and chat for a while.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, honey.”

I chuckled as I took my time walking up her driveway. I knocked loudly before opening the door. Even though she was expecting me, I wanted to make sure she was well aware of where I was in her home.

“Hey.” Her smile was small, but so beautiful it made my heart ache. How anyone could have hurt this woman was beyond me. She carried a tray with two mugs, a pot of black coffee, cream and sugar. That was something else about Gina. She was always prepared with a way to entertain guests. I got the feeling at least some of that came from the need to have something to concentrate on besides being scared all the time. The other was a desire to make people comfortable and welcome. The way she dealt with all the children the club had recently acquired seemed to fulfill that side of her as well. Which gave her an added distraction from her fear. “I have some caramel sauce in the fridge if you’d rather.”

“Black’s fine for me. Thank you, Gina.”

She fixed hers with a liberal amount of cream and sugar before blowing gently over the liquid and taking a careful sip. I watched her as I took a sip of my own coffee, letting the silence stretch. I’d follow her lead.

“Um, I should thank you. I actually had dozed off and was having a nightmare when you called.” One hand cupped her mug while she ran her other hand up and down her arm.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Contact Links

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

 

Pre-Order Today

Grit and Grace Reveal #rabtbooktours

 

The Transformation of a Ship & a Soul

Memoir

Date Published: February 27th, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

Deborah Rudell’s world unravels when the leaders of her spiritual commune are exposed, arrested, and imprisoned for bioterrorism and attempted murder. Crushed and adrift, she moves her family off the commune to create a sense of normalcy. But when her husband seeks an opportunity to dismantle and rebuild a derelict fifty-foot schooner, Deborah uproots their children once again and joins him in Kauai. For the next five years, she dedicates her life to restoring a boat.

Pouring herself into the work at hand can only distract her so much as disillusionment about the cult’s lies and manipulation slowly rises to the surface. While she grapples with emotional turmoil and contemplates a new life path, Deborah sets out to accomplish something she never thought possible: sailing across the Pacific to the Olympic Peninsula. Will the dangers that come with navigating the ocean be too much to bear, or will she find resolution and fortitude in the turbulent adventure?

Grit & Grace: The Transformation of a Ship & a Soul is one woman’s account of conquering overwhelming challenges with tenacity and ingenuity and ultimately discovering her inner strength.

About the Author

A college professor in San Diego, California, Deborah Rudell participates in her city’s vibrant writing community. She is a graduate of Hay House Writer’s Workshop and the Certificate in Memoir Writing program at San Diego Writers, Ink. Her work has been published in the International Memoir Writers Association’s anthology, Shaking the Tree: I Didn't See That One Coming.

Deborah lives with her black cat in a tiny house built in 1906 by a retired sea captain, who carved a sailing ship into the front door. This is her first book.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Instagram

Operation Nightfall: The Web of Spies Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

The Web of Spies

 

Espionage / Thriller

Date Published: 9/17/24

Publisher: FJK-KW Press

 

Former SOE operative Luba Haas and MI6 agent Natalie Jenkins secretly enter Poland in 1948 to meet with a sleeper agent and anti-communist insurgents, not realizing their mission has been compromised by a mole deep inside British intelligence. Hunted by both Soviet and Polish security services, they attempt a harrowing escape, not knowing whom they can trust as they try to outrun their pursuers.

Inspired by the true events of Poland's anti-communist insurgency, the Cambridge Five spy scandal, and a covert British operation to roll back communism to the borders of the USSR, Operation Nightfall: The Web of Spies sheds light on a lesser known story of the Cold War and immerses readers into the shadowy world of spy-versus-spy operations.

About the Author

Karl Wegener is a former Russian linguist, intelligence analyst, and combat interrogator who served in the U.S. Army and within the Intelligence Community during the Cold War.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Goodreads

Instagram

Threads

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Caprichos Books

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway