Thursday, August 21, 2025

The Archaic Thesaurus Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 


Rediscover the Poetry of Forgotten Words


Nonfiction

Date Published: July 18, 2025

Publisher: ‎MindStir Media



Step into a realm where language brims with history, elegance, and forgotten magic. The Archaic Thesaurus is a curated treasury of archaic and evocative words, crafted for lovers of language, writers, poets, and seekers of the uncommon. Author Nina Spinello revives the rich textures of English vocabulary with a masterful collection that both enlightens and inspires.

From “abstruse” to “zealous,” each entry is meticulously presented with:

● The word’s pronunciation


● Part of speech


● Concise definition


● A vivid example sentence


● A list of thoughtfully selected synonyms—each with its own illustrative sentence

 

This A-to-Z compendium invites readers to embrace words like anathema, bellicose, laconic, and quixotic—expressions steeped in literary tradition and capable of transforming any piece of writing into something timeless.

Whether you’re an author in search of the perfect word, a language enthusiast craving the eloquence of yesteryear, or a student eager to expand your vocabulary, The Archaic Thesaurus opens the door to a more expressive, poetic, and nuanced way of communicating.

Perfect for:
✔ Writers and poets
✔ Lovers of classic literature
✔ Educators and students
✔ Word nerds and language explorers

Bring history into your vocabulary. Let these powerful words rekindle your imagination and elevate your expression.

📚 Rediscover the art of language—one magnificent word at a time.

 

 

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Wednesday, August 20, 2025

The Smallest of Miracles Book Blitz #rabtbooktours



Literary Fiction

Date Published: March 6, 2025

Publisher: Seacoast Press



One choice. One moment. A ripple that changes everything.

In The Smallest of Miracles, Douglas Carpenter crafts a masterful literary debut that merges gripping storytelling with profound life lessons. The novel follows Ted Carrington, a wealthy, brilliant, and emotionally distant man on the autism spectrum, who returns to the private elementary school that shaped him—for better and worse. He intends to make a large donation, but what begins as a business transaction slowly becomes a reckoning with his past.

As the story transitions between Ted’s present and his childhood, readers meet the deeply flawed, often cruel boy he once was—especially to a vulnerable new classmate named Anna. But life, in its quiet way, begins to turn his world upside down.

What emerges is not only Ted’s transformation, but an invitation to the reader: to reflect, to slow down, and to reconsider how the smallest decisions—the ones we barely notice—can lead to the greatest changes.

This is not just a novel. It’s a call to awareness. A self-improvement guide disguised as a coming-of-age story.

📘 "Just like everything in life, meaning is found in the small details."
📘 "A golfer knows a 2-inch putt counts the same as a 200-yard drive. Life is very similar..."
📘 "Change is the fertilizer of life. It often stinks, but it is necessary for growth."

🔹 Perfect for fans of literary fiction with depth
🔹 A powerful read for young adults and up
🔹 Ideal for classrooms and book clubs seeking discussion-worthy themes

Read it once for the story. Read it again for the insight.

 


About the Author


Douglas Carpenter is not your typical author. A Certified Public Accountant (CPA) and Chartered Financial Analyst (CFA), Douglas became the youngest stockbroker in the U.S. at just 17 and currently owns two accounting firms and an asset management company in New York. Despite a thriving career in finance, his true passion lies in storytelling.

His debut novel, The Smallest of Miracles, took ten years to write—a deeply personal and intricately crafted journey of self-discovery and transformation. Drawing on his keen eye for detail and analysis, Douglas poured over every word, shaping a literary fiction novel that functions as both an engaging story and a guide to personal growth.

The book explores how tiny, seemingly insignificant choices shape our lives far more than major events. Readers are invited to slow down, reflect, and discover truths hidden in the smallest details—just as Douglas has done through his writing.

Douglas hopes his novel will find a place in high school curricula and on the bookshelves of thoughtful readers young and old. His message is clear: "The truth is always hidden behind things that are out of place."

Connect with Douglas Carpenter to discover a new perspective on life, character, and the miraculous power of small decisions.


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Tuesday, August 19, 2025

The Rebellious Countess Book Blast #GoddessFishPromotions

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Helene Matheson will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.



Society may be run by the men of the ton, but six scandalous sisters are determined to take it by storm one gentleman at a time.

Máira Blair married for love, her honeymoon trip with the Earl of Dorset is a dream come true—until reality turns it into a nightmare. Máira wakes up to discover her husband isn’t an earl, but the captain of a pirate ship and what was supposed to be her honeymoon, is a voyage bound for war-torn France. If that isn’t enough to disparage her husband’s character, he abandons her in the middle of a French port where she must find a way to survive as she defends her virtue and her life. Just when she’s convinced of what kind of rogue she married, the pirate transforms into a hero on a quest to save her and the missing Earl of Astley.

Sir Elias Drake married for convenience, he needed a Scottish bride to complete his mission. He can resist his desire for his beautiful wife, especially after she discovers his true identity. Except Máira Blair was more than he bargained for. He needs her skills, cherishes her compassion, and is tormented by her passion, which only makes him want her and the life their marriage represents more.

It will require both of their talents to rescue the Earl of Astley, and it will take more than a war to defeat their hard-won love—if they can escape.

Read an Excerpt

He wanted to catalog her injuries and soothe her pain. While Jack wanted to douse the fire in her lovely eyes. For that look alone, Elias put his foot in front of the man and gave Jack a shove.

Máira stepped forward in a futile attempt to catch the bastard, but was too late to stop his fall. Jack twisted his body mid-air, in time to keep his nose from hitting the floor. The muffled grunt he released caused Máira to flinch and a few men in the bar to raise their glasses to toast the nasty bugger’s predicament.

She turned on him, eyes flashing as if she suffered the same brutality. “Do you think treating a member of your crew with violence will earn my trust?”

“You don’t understand what he wanted to do to you.”

“The same thing you wanted to do to me?”

He snorted. “Not even close. I was defending your honor.”

Máira looked down at her torn and soiled dress, then lifted a limp curl from her shoulder. “You do it well.”

His guileless bride didn’t understand Jack’s evil intent, nor did she appreciate Elias’s manner of defending her honor. He ground his teeth. She was sizing him up like she had never done before, and he had to school the anger seeping through the facade of polite concern he’d worn since the moment she’d walked into the bar and he’d seen her battered face. She knew the warm-hearted, polite Ellison Collins, Earl of Dorset, not Sir Elias Drake, ruthless killer, spy, and recovery agent for the Crown.

About the Author:


Helene Matheson writes steamy regency historical romance novels with intelligent, unstoppable heroines who don’t require an alpha male to save them—having one in their bed is another story.

Helene moved south for fun in the sun after she retired from public service and began pursuing her life-long dream of writing. She wrote the Amazon best-selling mystery series The Book Barn Mysteries for Lyrical Press and has written multiple award-winning romantic suspense novels under Kym Roberts.

In her spare time she can be found woodcarving by the pool or blogging for The Cozy Corner on Fresh Fiction. To contact her on social media, you can find her under KymRoberts911 on FaceBook, Instagram, Twitter and Pinterest. Her books can also be found on her websites.

Helene Matheson: http://www.HeleneMatheson.com
Kym Roberts: http://www.KymRoberts.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DRDM5CSH
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-rebellious-countess-helene-matheson/1147883832
Books a Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Rebellious-Countess/Helene-Matheson/9781648399787

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The Well-Tempered Violinist Teaser #rabtbooktours




Book 1 of The Gift

 

Historical Fiction

Date to be Published: November 5, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing


Marthe Adler dreams of making history as a great violinist. But in 1905 Germany, tradition and deep-seated prejudice against women musicians stand in her way. To make matters worse, her beloved father’s sudden death shatters her family’s comfortable life, pushing them to the edge of poverty.

But the violin Marthe’s father left her is a constant reminder of the profound bond between them, and it gives her the strength to begin healing. When the Köln Conservatory offers her an unexpected scholarship, she seizes her chance to reach for excellence.

Under the rigorous tutelage of Professorin Wolff, and subjected to predatory harassment by a fellow student determined to destroy both her self-worth and her chances of success, Marthe quickly learns she will need more than motivation and talent to rise to the top.

Filled with heart, wit, and music, The Well-Tempered Violinist is an enduring coming-of-age tale about an artist striving for greatness against enormous odds.


Excerpt


FEBRUARY 1949, HEIDELBERG

In the very beginning was the sound, bright and rich, with an edge of darkness.

I knew it before birth, my mother said, for whenever my father played, I became still in her womb, as if I were mesmerized.

In the sitting room of our house in Eberlinstrasse, I became the audience, propped with pillows before I could sit up, listening to my father and his friends play string quartets on Saturday nights—for love, he said, not money, for he was a banker, though as a young man he had studied with the famous Schradieck in Hamburg. Later, he told me I never fussed, never had to be removed, but remained transfixed, no matter how rough the music nor how often they repeated it. So perhaps my mother was right.

***

The second beginning was my fourth birthday, when my baby sister Anni stuck her fist into my birthday cake when no one was looking and my grandparents gave me a music box that played “Papageno’s Magic Bells” from The Magic Flute, which I listened to until everyone but me was sick of it. Best of all, my father gave me my own small violin and began to teach me its mysteries. First, the names of the strings and their personalities: A, sensible and even-tempered; D, cheerful and impetuous; down to G, serious and thoughtful; up to E, nervous and temperamental, with a tendency to squeak. How to tune them, how to find the notes and make them pure instead of scratchy. He turned exercises and drills into games and improvised harmony to my children’s songs, something different every time. Alle Meine Entchen, All My Ducklings. Bruder Jakob, a round. Kleines Mädchen, Little Girl—my favorite, because it was about me.

I practiced every afternoon for my evening lesson. Occasionally, with nerves like caterpillars in my stomach, I played for the applause and praise of my father’s friends. I might have thought all children were as docile as myself, if not for Anni. Anni’s temper tantrums, Anni thundering up and down the stairs, Anni meddling with my toys and often breaking them. I couldn’t imagine where my parents had found her, or why. Someday, I thought—preferably soon—she would run off to become a pirate and leave us in peace.

The pirate would surely come to no good. But I dreamed I would become a famous violinist and lead an exotic and sophisticated life on the concert stages of the world.

***

When I outgrew my first violin, Anni inherited it and my father began to teach her—at least, he tried. Anni never practiced and she hated lessons of all kinds. The experiment was short-lived and a spectacular failure.

I felt horribly smug for weeks.

My father and I shared a secret language, a world full of treasures where Anni couldn’t stick in her fat little fist and grab anything and where my mother didn’t care to go. A bond grew between us as between two fibers of the same tree, pure and deep. . .

***

 

MARCH 1906, KÖLN

Both of these beginnings came before the real one, like the prologue in fiction.

The third beginning, the real one, is now: a cold March morning a month past my eighteenth birthday, before the grand front door of one of the grandest houses in Köln. Herr Dietrich keeps a firm grip on my elbow, probably to keep me from running away. In my other hand, I carry my violin in its case. This house, on Leopoldstrasse in the heart of the Lindenthal district, belongs to Herr Ferdinand Kurtz, president of the Bank of Köln. My father’s bank.

Yes. It begins here.

The violin I carry is my father’s, because he is dead.

 

***

 


About the Author


Retired architect Barbara Thornburgh Carlton is an author of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. Though not a musician, she remains music-adjacent as a volunteer for the San Diego Opera and the Orcas Island Chamber Music Festival in Washington. The mother of two grown children who are remarkably considerate about keeping in touch, she lives in San Diego, California, with her photographer husband, Barry.

The Well-Tempered Violinist, Book 1 of The Gift series, is her first novel.

 

Contact Links

Facebook: Barbara Thornburgh Carlton, Writer

Instagram: @btcarlton_writer


 

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Monday, August 18, 2025

Love's Harvest Release Blitz #rabtbooktours

 


Women's Fiction with Romantic Elements

Date Published: August 18, 2025



Sarah Bullard Miller returns to Lilac Lake with her four-year-old twin daughters following the death of her husband. She’s always been part of the group of summer kids playing together with the granddaughters of the woman who owned the Lilac Lake Inn, and she loves renewing those friendships. Keeping busy working at her parents’ hardware store and taking care of the girls, she begins the healing process following her husband’s violent death.

Aaron Collister was Sarah’s high school boyfriend. They connected with their sensitivity to nature and poetry, which might have seemed strange unless you knew that big, tough, Aaron was part Abenake Indian and had been given many life lessons by his mother. They renew their friendship, but neither is ready to commit to more until a crisis leads them to their answer.


This is a spinoff book from the Lilac Lake Inn series, a sweet second-chance, small-town romance. Another of Judith Keim’s books with strong women facing challenges and finding love and happiness along the way. 


About the Author


Judith Keim, A USA Today Best-Selling Author, is a hybrid author who both has a publisher and self-publishes. Ms. Keim writes heart-warming novels about women who face unexpected challenges, meet them with strength, and find love and happiness along the way, stories with heart. Her best-selling books are based, in part, on many of the places she's lived or visited and on the interesting people she's met, creating believable characters and realistic settings that her many loyal readers love.

She enjoyed her childhood and young-adult years in Elmira, New York, and now makes her home in Boise, Idaho, with her husband and their adorable dachshunds, Wally and Kacy, and other members of her family.

While growing up, she loved the idea of writing stories from a young age. Books were always present, being read, ready to go back to the library, or about to be discovered. All in her family shared information from the books in general conversation, giving them a wealth of knowledge and vivid imaginations.

Ms. Keim loves to hear from her readers and appreciates their enthusiasm for her stories.

 

Contact Links

Website

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Purchase Links

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Saturday, August 16, 2025

Friar Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours


 

Reckless Kings MC (#7)


MC Romance / Romantic Suspense

Date to be Published: August 22, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press



One night. One mistake. One baby that changes everything.

Cheri -- I’ve always been the preacher’s perfect niece, the small-town good girl who never stepped out of line. But one reckless night with a gruff, dangerous biker flipped my world upside down. Now I’m eighteen, unexpectedly pregnant, and kicked out of my home for breaking the rules. With nowhere else to turn, I end up on the doorstep of the one man I shouldn’t want. Friar. He’s a rough, older member of an outlaw motorcycle club, and the father of my baby. At least, I think he is. That night is a bit of a blur. He’s also the only one who might protect me from a world that suddenly wants to chew me up and spit me out. Even if he doesn’t love me, I need him… and maybe he needs me too.

Friar -- As a biker, I’ve lived hard and broken more laws than I can count. I’ve never claimed to be a good man. Hell, I don’t even try. But when Cheri shows up at my MC’s door with wide eyes and a baby on the way, something in me shifts. I was never supposed to touch her. She’s too young, too innocent, too off-limits. But I did. And now she’s mine.

They can judge us. Try to tear us apart. But I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my woman and my unborn child. Even if I have to burn down the world to do it.


Excerpt


All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Harley Wylde

Cheri

The wooden crucifix above my bed seemed to watch me with judgment as I lay still, listening to the house settle into silence. Eleven forty-five. Uncle Pete and Aunt June had been in bed for over an hour, their nightly prayers long finished. I’d waited, counting each minute, feeling my heartbeat quicken with every passing second. Tonight was my night. My escape. Even if it was just for a few hours.

I slid out from under the floral quilt Aunt June had made for me when I first came to live with them three years ago. The floor was cold against my bare feet, but I didn’t dare turn on the small lamp. The moonlight filtering through the lace curtains was enough. I moved to my closet, pushing past the modest dresses and high-necked blouses that filled the space. Behind them, hidden in the darkest corner, hung the outfit I’d been saving -- tight jeans and a low-cut top that would have Aunt June clutching her pearls and Uncle Pete quoting Proverbs about the path of sin.

My fingers traced the outline of a framed verse on my nightstand: “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” Proverbs 31:25. How many times had Aunt June reminded me that a godly woman’s worth wasn’t in her appearance? Yet here I was, applying mascara and lip gloss by the dim light of my phone screen, my movements practiced and furtive.

I pulled on my forbidden clothes, the fabric clinging to my body in ways that made me feel alive, dangerous. The girl in the mirror looked like someone else -- someone exciting, someone with secrets. I tucked my hair behind my ears and took a deep breath. It was time.

The hallway stretched before me like a gauntlet. Family photos lined the walls, interspersed with carved wooden crosses and framed Bible verses that seemed to glow in the darkness. I knew every creaky floorboard, every spot that would betray me. I stepped carefully, placing my weight on the edges near the walls where the boards were less likely to complain. The scent of Aunt June’s lavender potpourri hung in the air, cloying and sweet, a constant reminder of her presence even when she wasn’t around.

I froze as I approached their bedroom door. It stood slightly ajar, and the soft sound of Uncle Pete’s snoring drifted out. My heart hammered so hard I was certain they’d hear it. A shaft of light from their bedside lamp sliced through the gap in the door. Aunt June always kept it on -- afraid of the dark or maybe afraid of what lurked in it. I held my breath and pressed my body against the opposite wall, inching past with glacial slowness.

“Peter?” Aunt June’s voice, thick with sleep, stopped me cold. My blood turned to ice, and I pressed myself deeper into the shadows.

The snoring paused. “Hmm?”

“Did you lock the back door?”

“Yes, June. Go back to sleep.”

I remained frozen, counting to thirty in my head before daring to move again. The lock. I hadn’t thought about the lock. Would I be able to unlock it without making noise? I’d have to risk it.

The stairs were next -- thirteen of them, each with its own personality and voice. I’d mapped them out over months of late-night kitchen raids: the third one screamed, the seventh groaned, the ninth whispered, and the eleventh threatened to wake the dead. I navigated them like a dance I’d rehearsed a thousand times, my hand barely touching the banister for balance.

The living room was a shrine to their faith. A massive painting of Jesus with lambs hung over the fireplace, His eyes following me accusingly across the room. Bibles sat on every surface, bookmarked and well-worn. A collection of angels watched from the mantel, their porcelain faces frozen in eternal worship. The smell of potpourri was stronger here, mingling with the lingering scent of the pot roast we’d had for dinner.

I made my way to the kitchen, where a needlepoint hung over the sink: “In everything give thanks.” My car keys were in my pocket, heavy and promising. Freedom was just beyond the back door. I reached for the deadbolt, turning it with painful slowness, feeling each click of the mechanism like a gunshot in the silence. When it finally released, I eased the door open just enough to slip through.

The night air hit me like a blessing, cool and free from the suffocating holiness of the house. The porch steps were new and didn’t creak, a small mercy. I stepped onto the damp grass, shoes in hand, moving quickly now toward the driveway where my ancient Honda waited.

I slid into the driver’s seat, my heart still racing. The key went into the ignition, and I said a silent prayer -- the irony not lost on me -- that the engine wouldn’t roar to life with its usual enthusiasm. I turned the key, and the car started with a mercifully subdued rumble. No lights came on in the house. I backed out slowly, not turning on my headlights until I was a safe distance down the road.

In my rearview mirror, the house grew smaller, a dark silhouette against the night sky. I finally allowed myself to breathe. The windows were down, and the wind whipped my hair around my face. I felt wild, untethered. The address of the Reckless Kings clubhouse was burned into my memory from whispered conversations in school bathrooms.

My heart fluttered with nervous excitement. This wasn’t just about breaking curfew or wearing forbidden clothes. This was about stepping into a world so different from the one I’d been trapped in, a world raw and real and alive. The night stretched ahead of me, dark and full of promise, as I drove toward the edge of town where the Reckless Kings waited.

I pressed harder on the gas, leaving behind the weight of expectations and the suffocation of someone else’s righteousness. For tonight, at least, I would be free. For tonight, I would be more than just Uncle Pete and Aunt June’s good Christian niece. I would be Cheri Waite, a girl with fire in her veins and rebellion in her heart.

I parked my Honda at the end of a long line of cars outside the clubhouse, partly to hide my car from anyone who might recognize it, partly because I needed those extra steps to steady my nerves. The Reckless Kings’ domain loomed ahead, a rather fancy looking log-cabin-style building. Music pulsed from inside, a heartbeat I could feel even from this distance. Motorcycles lined the entrance, chrome gleaming under bright lights, their owners somewhere inside doing things my uncle would call sinful and I would call living.

My legs felt weak as I walked toward the building. Each step brought me closer to crossing a line I couldn’t uncross. I’d heard whispers about the Reckless Kings since I’d moved to town -- dangerous men who lived by their own code, who took what they wanted and answered to no one. The kind of men Aunt June prayed for on Sundays, her voice tight with disapproval and fear.

The bikes stood like sentinels guarding the entrance. I ran my fingers over a sleek handlebar as I passed, feeling the cool metal against my skin. I smoothed my hands over my jeans, adjusted my top to show just the right amount of cleavage, and took a deep breath. This was it. No turning back.

I pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The sensory assault was immediate and overwhelming. The air was thick with cigarette smoke that hung in blue-gray clouds beneath the ceiling, mingling with the smell of spilled beer, leather, and sweat. The bass from the music vibrated through the soles of my shoes and up into my chest, making my heart sync with its rhythm. Colored lights from neon beer signs cast red and blue shadows across the room, illuminating faces in fragments -- a tattooed arm here, a bearded jaw there, bodies moving through the haze like apparitions.

My eyes stung, adjusting to the smoke and dimness. The floor beneath me was sticky with what I hoped was just beer, pulling at my shoes with each step. Bodies pressed against each other in the center of the room, dancing to music that felt more like a physical force than a sound. Women in tight clothes and high heels leaned against men in leather cuts, their laughter cutting through the din like glass breaking.

Conversations stuttered as I moved deeper into the room. Heads turned, eyes assessed. I felt each gaze like a physical touch -- some curious, some predatory, all intense. A woman with a snake tattoo winding up her neck stared at me with narrowed eyes, her arm tightening around the waist of the man beside her. I kept my chin up, tried to look like I belonged, like I wasn’t counting every rapid beat of my heart.

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

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

Save 15% off any order at http://changelingPress.com with code RABT15




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Friday, August 15, 2025

Trouble In Heaven Book Blitz #rabtbooktours




Fantasy / Fiction / Spirituality

Date Published: 11-17-2024

Publisher: Made for Success



In the beginning The Alpha created the heavens and the earth. This story takes place before that.



About the Authors


J.C. Worthington

JC Worthington, author of the Trouble Series, is a ministry leader and teacher, driven by his love of God. His imaginative storytelling blends timeless biblical truths with untold stories, taking readers on a mind-bending journey to explore the mysteries woven into Scripture.


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R.G. Ryan

R.G. Ryan started writing seriously following a long and satisfying career in the music industry as a songwriter, recording artist, arranger, producer and director of A&R for a couple of record labels. As a songwriter he has over one hundred and fifty songs in publication worldwide and has produced over one hundred album projects. He is the author of the Jake Moriarity series of thrillers, The Voices In My Head (the biography of late Las Vegas entertainment icon, Danny Gans), and the popular Snapshots At St. Arbuck's series. He lives with his first wife on the coast of somewhere beautiful. Can sing a little.


Goodreads


Purchase Link

https://mybook.to/TroubleinHeaven

Amazon


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Thursday, August 14, 2025

Kennedy Sloane Gets Scooped Reveal #rabtbooktours

 


Contemporary Women's Fiction/Contemporary Romance

Date Published: November 6th, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing


Faster than details break in a news story, Kennedy Sloane gets scooped.

On a rainy Manhattan afternoon, career-obsessed writer and news producer Kennedy loses the interview that was guaranteed to catapult her to senior producer status. Hours later, revered and feared book editor Muffin Evans, aka the Manuscript Eater, shelves the publication of her promising debut novel.

Over a night of tears and too many glasses of wine, Kennedy responds to an internet ad for a villa on the picturesque island of Hilton Head. She books a five-week “hiatus from life,” to focus on herself, free from distractions.

However, soon after arriving on the island, J.P. Long catches Kennedy’s hesitant eye. Despite a series of serendipitous encounters around the romantic oasis, Kennedy knows there’s no room in her life for a charming professional golfer turned businessman who is battling his own personal and professional insecurities.

But maybe he’s worth the trouble.

If there’s one thing Kennedy’s learned, it’s that life rarely happens as expected, and sometimes, the best stories unfold when you stop chasing the perfect headline.

 

About the Author

 

 A graduate of Fordham University, Caila Klaiss is an award-winning network news producer who spent seventeen years crisscrossing the country to cover breaking and developing stories for platforms across ABC News. The bulk of her career was spent producing true crime documentaries for 20/20.

Since making the difficult decision to leave a career she loved, Caila has pursued her other life-long dream of becoming a writer. When she is not reading, writing, or researching, Caila recharges by practicing yoga.

Born, raised, and currently living in northeastern Pennsylvania, Caila is a New Yorker at heart whose happy place is a warm sandy beach, under a palm tree.


Contact Links

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Wednesday, August 13, 2025

Never Stay Broke Preorder Blitz



Nonfiction, Self-Help, Personal Finance

Date Published: September 9, 2025



You’re not broken. The system is just built backwards.

This book is for the person who’s done everything they were told—study hard, work harder, stay positive—and is still asking: Why does it feel like I’m always starting from zero?

Never Stay Broke is a clear, honest guide for figuring out what actually works when things aren’t working. It won’t promise millions or magic. It gives you a way forward—whether you need to make it to the next day, next week, next month, or the rest of your life without looking back.

It’s not about motivation. It’s not about mindset. It’s about movement—small, smart, stacked decisions that build into something you can stand on.

 

Inside, you’ll find:

 

• What to do when you have no time, no credit, and no help

• How to stretch what you have without shrinking your future

• How to turn one move into momentum, then turn that momentum into freedom

• How to stop feeling like you’re catching up, and start acting like you’re in control

 

No fluff. No pity. Just the truth about what it takes to move from survival to security—and beyond.

 

If you’ve ever thought, “I can’t keep living like this,” but didn’t know what to do next, start here.

 

 

About the Author


After completing his education, Joseph embarked on a career in the technology industry, quickly establishing himself as a talented and innovative professional. He has worked with some of the top companies in the field, honing his skills and gaining valuable experience along the way.

In 2021, Joseph founded Rwazi, a company that specializes in providing cutting-edge technology solutions to businesses.

Joseph is known for his visionary leadership style and his ability to inspire and motivate his team. He is deeply committed to the success of his company and the growth of the technology industry in Rwanda. He is also passionate about giving back to his community, and is involved in a number of charitable organizations that work to improve the lives of people in need.

 

Contact Links

Author website

Instagram

Twitter/X

LinkedIn


Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, August 12, 2025

One Year in Paris Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours

 


Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 07-25-2025

Publisher: Lipstick Publishing



When Annalise Garner arrives in Paris to study art, she’s chasing quiet—far from her Southern roots, far from expectations. What she doesn’t expect is to meet Jett Hunter, a star American soccer player with green eyes, a bruised past, and a future under a constant spotlight.

Jett lives for the game. Annelise lives for the canvas. But when fate intertwines their worlds on a rain-soaked street in the City of Lights, neither is prepared for the slow-burn connection that follows.

As their hearts tangle between café tables and gallery walls, the intrusion of the press and career choices threaten to pull them apart.

Jett faces pressure to return to New York.

Annalise wrestles with who she is beyond her art.

And just when they start to find their rhythm, a devastating injury changes everything.

Set against the romance of Paris and the quiet beauty of rebuilding a life, One Year in Paris is a tender story of love that endures the noise, finds strength in the silence, and blooms where it’s least expected.


Excerpt

Chapter One


Paris, France.

March.

Paris smelled like warm bread, rain, and the kind of freedom you didn’t realize you were starving for until you tasted it.

Annelise Garner pressed her sketchbook to her chest as she crossed Place du Tertre, her long blond curls pulled into a loose braid and a soft, excited nervousness fluttering in her chest. This wasn’t just a vacation—it was a year away from all expectations. No cotillions, no pageants, no family name to maintain. Just art, sunlight, and the faint promise of something more.

She passed a café tucked between a bookstore and a patisserie, where laughter spilled onto the street. A gust of wind tugged at her scarf, and she caught it just before it flew—only to stumble directly into someone walking briskly around the corner.

Hard chest. Expensive cologne. An arm around her waist, steadying.

“Whoa—pardon,” a deep voice rumbled. American, unmistakably. Rough with surprise. Smooth with heat.

Annelise looked up—and found herself staring into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.

The man holding her was tall…Ridiculously tall. His hair was dark and swept back in the kind of effortless way that meant effort had definitely been involved. A few people nearby had slowed down to look. Some pointed.

“Y-you’re American,” she blurted in surprise before she could stop herself.

He smirked. “So are you.”

“Atlanta.”

“New York.”

They paused.

“I’m Annelise.”

“Jett Hunter.”

And as he stepped back, letting her go with a soft brush of his fingers, she noticed the gym bag over his shoulder, scuffed cleats peeking out the side.

That name…Jett Hunter. It tickled something in her brain. A memory from a sports magazine her friend from back home, Abigail, had fawned over.

She blinked.

“You play soccer…”

He gave her a crooked smile. “A little.”

“How long have you been in Paris?”

“Two years…You?”

“Two months…I’m here studying art for a year courtesy of a generous inheritance from my grandpa.”

“My contract ends in seven months.”

Annelise nodded. “I wish I could stay forever, but—” she shrugged.

She didn’t give a reason and Jett didn’t know her well enough to ask.

Jett Hunter didn’t believe in fate. He believed in timing—on the field, in life, in love, if that was even something he still believed in at all.

But when he spotted her again the next morning, crossing Rue des Abbesses with a portfolio twice her size and sunlight catching in her golden hair, he felt something stir.

She hadn’t seen him yet. She was juggling her sketchbook tucked under one arm and what looked like a artists satchel in the other. Same soft curls, same honey-sweet presence…Annelise.

He pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to be sure.

Yep. It was her.

Jett stood up from his table before he thought better of it, dodged a Vespa, and stepped into her path just as she looked up.

She gasped, nearly bumping into him again, and blinked in surprise. “You?”

He gave a crooked grin. “Starting to think you’re following me.”

Her lips parted—then curved. “Or you’re following me.”

“Touché.”

She shifted the satchel and sketchpad awkwardly. “Do you usually begin your mornings by bumping into strangers?”

“I had a need for croissants,” he explained. “And accidental run-ins with beautiful strangers are a bonus,” he added.

Her cheeks colored faintly. It looked good on her. Real. Not rehearsed like the women he usually met who were after him for nothing more than his fame and fortune.

He nodded toward the café behind him. “Sit with me?”

She hesitated for a breath. Then nodded.

They sat under the striped awning, a plate of flaky pastries between them. Two Americans in the heart of Montmartre pretending Paris wasn’t working some strange kind of magic on them.

Annelise told him about her art studies and Georgia summers. She spoke briefly of her political family, being an only child, how she used to sketch horses in the back pasture and dream of painting sunrises in another country.

Jett told her about New York, the endless push of fame, and how Paris had been a necessary escape. He didn’t mention the pressure from the club or the headlines speculating about his focus slipping. Not yet.

“I prefer to keep to myself. I don’t usually do people,” she admitted, stirring her espresso slowly. “They’re too…complicated.”

“Yet here you are sat across from one this morning.”

Annelise looked up. “You’re different. You feel like—” She stopped herself.

“Like what?” he asked softly.

“Like someone real.”

Jett became quiet. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to him. Even longer since it felt true.

When Annelise stood to leave, she gave him a smile that felt like spring.

“Same café tomorrow?” he asked, not wanting to let her slip from his life.

She looked over her shoulder as she walked away. “If the croissants are this good again.”

He watched her go—shoulders relaxed, curls bouncing lightly, sunlight wrapped around her like a promise.

Jett sat back in his chair, let the Paris air fill his lungs, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was running toward the next match or away from himself.

He just felt…here.

And that was enough.


About the Author


I’m an Australian author who writes in a variety of genres, including Western romance, historical romance, Gay Romance, and contemporary romance. I also have a Thriller Murder/Mystery, children’s, non-fiction and young adult.

I have published over 60 books and novellas, many of which feature strong, independent heroines and rugged, alpha male heroes. Some of my popular series include the Outback Australia series and The Carter Brothers series.

My books are known for their well-researched historical details and vivid descriptions of the Australian landscape.

My work has garnered praise from readers and critics alike, and I have won several awards for my writing.

If you're interested in learning more about my books:

Linktree: https://linktr.ee/SusanHorsnell


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RABT Book Tours & PR

Pain Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours



(Kiss of Death MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: August 22, 2025

 



Redemption doesn't come free. And sometimes, the price is paid in blood.

 

Pain -- When I walked out of Terre Haute Prison, I wasn't the same man who went in. I've got blood on my hands, but I'm determined to pay my debt and take back what's left of my life. Once I'm home, inside the walls of the motorcycle club that welcomed me when I had no one, I have more hope than I dared to have the whole time I was incarcerated. Problem is, the past doesn't stay buried. When I recognized Nadine, a young woman from my past, and got to know the woman she'd become, I'd convinced myself there's no way to be worthy of a woman like her. Until she's put squarely in the crosshairs of a situation she knows nothing about. That's when it's time to earn my road name and bring her enemies a world of hurt.

Nadine -- I know better than to fall for an ex-con. I've seen the worst of humanity from inside prison walls where I work as a nurse. But something about Dr. Raven, or Pain, as they call him, gets under my skin. There was a time when he was my hero, the person I wanted to be most like. I admit I might have a huge case of hero worship and the tiniest little crush on him. I don't know the rules in his world outside the prison, but I know I need to learn fast. Especially since corrupt cops seem to be hell-bent on cutting in on the Kiss of Death territory. It sometimes feels like I'm fighting just to breathe. But the scariest part? It's not the blood, the bullets, or the bodies. It's that I might actually be falling in love with Ford "Pain" Raven.

 

A gritty, steamy romance featuring a protective alpha, a fierce heroine who refuses to break, and the family you choose when the world tries to tear you apart.

 



EXCERPT

 

Pain

The minute I stepped foot in the infirmary, the smell of antiseptic hit me like a damn freight train. It’s the same scent that used to greet me every morning when I started my day as a surgical intern five years earlier. That scent had been soothing to me then, proof of how clean and organized my environment was. But now it’s a black stench, tainted with the putridity of this godforsaken place. You’d think after months of being in prison, I would have been immune to the smell, but I guess some things just stuck with you. Besides, every hospital -- or infirmary -- had a unique scent underneath all the bleach and other chemical cleaners. This infirmary was no different.

I was escorted by a guard who probably ate doughnuts for every meal and kicked puppies for fun, but hey, I’m not judging or anything. He shoved me into a chair, cuffed me to the table, and disappeared, probably off to shake down an old lady or something. I seriously doubted he was capable of anything more strenuous.

“See ya around, Brutus.” I lifted my chin at the rotund man. He frowned at me but I just grinned. I liked to pick one guard at a place and harass him until he broke. I was a surgeon and, if I was honest, I didn’t think I saw psychiatrists as “real” doctors. I’m ashamed to admit it now for multiple reasons. Mostly because I’ve been in places in the prison system where there is more true mental illness than I ever thought could possibly be concentrated in a single building, but also because I’ve learned a new appreciation for how a good psychiatrist could get into someone’s head. It was a powerful feeling. I had no desire to fuck with someone’s head -- much -- but teasing them a little was too fun to resist. The guards anyway. Occasionally I’d fuck with other staff members or the occasional prisoner if he was a pain in my ass, but mostly it was the guards.

As I sat there, I caught a glimpse of a nurse. She looked like a tiny, curvy angel in this sea of steel and misery. Honey-colored hair pulled up in a messy bun, and those gray eyes that seem to see right through me. For some reason, I don’t associate those eyes with a woman. I knew I’d seen those eyes before, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place her.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Raven,” she said as she approached me, and holy shit, I recognized that tinkling voice. Then her eyes widened and she winced. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, obviously devastated at her inadvertent mistake. We both knew I was no longer a doctor. While a felony conviction didn’t always mean someone had to surrender their medical license, doing so had been a condition of my plea agreement. One I didn’t fight even though my brother tried to get me to. With anyone else, or if I didn’t know this woman, I’d have thought it was intentional, designed to either make me feel small by reminding me of how far I’d fallen or to see if they could make me snap with mental torment. But not Nadine Brentner.

“It’s all right, Ms. Brentner. I know it wasn’t intentional.”

Her jaw drops. “You remember my name?” Real wonder and a touch of hero worship tinted her expression. She looked more than a little starstruck and for the first time I could ever remember, I wanted to puff my chest out in pride. Because some girl I never knew very well was happily surprised I remembered her fucking name. Maybe Knuckles, the fucker, was rubbing off on me. I’d heard about him and his woman and how disgustingly mushy they could be. Only this wasn’t my woman. Also, when I knew her, she was still in high school, volunteering in the hospital’s Explorer program, a “class” in which the students volunteered at the hospital in different departments so they could see what the world of healthcare was like and outside the classroom.

I couldn’t help but smile. Nadine had been a ray of sunshine from the first day I saw her in my OR waiting room. We didn’t interact, though I tried to acknowledge her when I saw her. She had been handing out snacks and taking family to their loved ones as they came out of recovery. It seemed like she had a natural ability to empathize with those around her. On more than one occasion, I saw her help calm someone down when no one else could. Administration had been angry with her for stepping in. She was underage and a student, but she’d been there at the time and had already made a connection with the woman. I didn’t see her after that and I’d wondered on more than one occasion if she’d been moved to another department because of that incident or if she was simply finished with her class.

“Of course, I remember you.” I tried to drop my “Pain” persona and adopt some kind of gruff, long forgotten version of “Dr. Raven” she might remember. “You were one of the few Healthcare Explorers to come through my area who I thought might make a career in medicine someday.”

She seemed startled before she gave me a smile filled with wonder. Her eyes widened and she looked down at the floor. Taking a breath, she met my gaze again. This time, she looked more settled. Apparently, she hadn’t thought I’d notice her. Truth was, it was impossible not to notice her.

Nadine Brentner, the teenager, had been beautiful, but like a porcelain doll you were afraid to touch for fear of breaking her. I appreciated her outer beauty then, but it was her inner beauty that caused me to remember her. I don’t think there was ever a time I saw her without a smile.

“I hope I live up to your expectations then.” She smiled as she pulled a computer in front of her and began typing. “Give me just a moment,” she mumbled as she continued to peck on the keyboard. “Stupid thing locked me out again.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “I took too long and it thought I’d left.” She was muttering under her breath now and it was almost too cute for words. Mainly because I could remember her doing much the same thing a few times back when I’d had a life and an identity. Only thing she’d improved upon was that now, she seemed to need to stick the tip of her tongue out while she concentrated.

She sat across the small table from me. I was shackled at the ankles and wrists and secured to a bar bolted in the middle of the steel table. This might be medical, but I wasn’t sick or injured and the guards didn’t know me. No one was taking any chances. New face, new place.

As she continued her login, I glanced around the room. The big guard who brought me here was gone, but there were two other guards. One of them cleared his throat and frowned in our direction.

Nadine glanced at him before she looked up at me again. This time, her smile was still polite but not as welcoming. I noticed she seemed nervous now when she hadn’t before. I made a mental note and waited until Nadine was deep into her questioning about my medical history and such before I snuck a glance at the guard. There were no names on their ID badges, but I’d find out who he was and what beef he had with Nadine. And why the fuck she was scared of him.

 

About the Author

Mrteeka 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.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today



RABT Book Tours & PR

Monday, August 11, 2025

Doomsday Planet Book Blitz #rabtbooktours



Sci-Fi / Action - Adventure

Date Published: 07-09-2025

Publisher: Severed Press



The world’s richest man just made a killer deal with an alien species; he sold them the human race! Now four warriors from Earth’s past must battle to save its future on… THE DOOMSDAY PLANET.

 

 

About the Author

 

 Doomsday Planet is William Burke’s fifth novel, following a long career in film and television. He was the creator and director of the Destination America paranormal series Hauntings and Horrors and the OLN series Creepy Canada, as well as producing the HBO productions Forbidden Science, Lingerie and Sin City Diaries. His work has garnered high praise from network executives and insomniacs watching Cinemax at 3 a.m.

During the 1990’s Burke was a staff producer for the Playboy Entertainment Group, producing eighteen feature films and multiple television series. He’s acted as Line Producer and Assistant Director on dozens of feature films—some great, some bad and some truly terrible.

Aside from novels Burke has written for Fangoria Magazine, Videoscope Magazine and is a regular contributor to Horrornews.net.

He also served in the United States Air Force, reaching the rank of sergeant.

He can be found at williamburkeauthor.com


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