It’s All About Love Virtual Book Tour

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 Women’s Fiction / Historical Fiction / Romance
Date Published: 11-10-2026

 

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 San Francisco, 1967. The Summer of Love promises radical freedom—but for
twenty-year-old Juliette, it becomes a dangerous trap.
Desperate
to escape her conventional family, Juliette shocks her parents by announcing
her engagement to David, a long-haired free spirit. When her father,
Tristan—a famous novelist harboring a tragic past—vehemently
forbids the union, Juliette acts on impulse. In the dead of night, she climbs
out her window and flees with David to the counterculture epicenter of
Haight-Ashbury.
But beneath the cloud of incense and rock ‘n’
roll, independence carries a steep price. As David drifts into a haze of drugs
and broken promises, Juliette’s bohemian dream shatters. Back home, her
flight reopens old wounds. Her fiercely protective mother, Lorna, must help
Tristan confront the shadows of his past as they desperately try to pull their
daughter back from the edge before it’s too late.

 

It’s
All About Love is a poignant coming-of-age story about the fragile line
between rebellion and destruction and the enduring, messy grace of family.

 

 

It's All About Love standing book

EXCERPT

My sandaled feet pounded against the dewy grass while sprinting towards the tent, and my long skirt whipped around my legs. Shell’s panicked voice echoed in my mind. 

“David overdosed. He’s in Eddie’s tent.” 

These were the very words I dreaded ever since David started taking drugs. All the times I’d pleaded with him to stop, or to at least be careful, drifted through my mind. How many times had I begged him, yet he’d insisted it was no big deal? How many times had I told him it was dangerous, yet he’d only laughed in my face? How many times had I asked him to think how it affected me, yet he’d only brushed me off, saying I worried too much?

But surrounded by everyone here all summer long, the pressure never went away. How could David simply refuse LSD when it was passed around like candy? The most recent time was a week ago.

“David, c’mon, enough already,” I’d said, tugging on his sleeve.

He laughed, kissing me, already tripping. “Aw, babe, there you go again, worrying too much. You sound like your folks you complain so much about.”

I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest. The coolness of the evening settled over me, but the chill that went through me had nothing to do with the temperature. “Not cool.”

Eddie chose that moment to come traipsing through the small crowd nearby. He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around David. “Hey, brother. How’s it goin’?”

“Life’s grand, man. Just grand. Wanna sing about it?”

“Sure, got my guitar with me. What sounds good?”

David plopped down on the grass. “Let’s do some Airplane. Can’t say we’ll sound good, but…”

Eddie joined him and began strumming the strings. “Nah, we sound great, man! We oughta start our own band, step up on stage with the Dead!” 

They chanted some off-key lyrics, and I strained to listen. Part of me wanted to walk away, but concern for my guy won out. Yeah, part of me thought about singing along, forgetting that David was tripping, but as the song unfolded, so did the awful truth.

“What d’you think, Jules?” David asked, grinning up at me. “Maybe you could join us. You’ve got a pretty voice.”

I rolled my eyes, trying for some levity. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you sleep it off? Maybe try becoming the next great hit tomorrow.” I knelt beside him, placing a hand on his forearm.

David stared at me, but his eyes weren’t focused. He seemed to see past me. I imagined him saying something he thought was profound, like he saw beyond the physical or something, that he glimpsed my love for him in that everlasting moment. It was almost romantic. Lulled into a fleeting sense of calm, I leaned in as he drew closer. Our lips almost crashed, but then he pulled back, laughing.

“Gotcha!” He pulled out another tab from his pocket, and before I could protest, he popped another bit of acid into his waiting and ready mouth.

I stood, glaring. “David, what the hell?”

Eddie joined David’s laughter. “Looks like your old lady’s none too happy.”

Tempted to shove both of them, I shook my head. “And where’s your old lady, Eddie? Does Shell know you’re as gone as he is?” I pointed at David.

Eddie snorted. “Sweetie, Shell’s probably as ‘gone’ as I am, only she’s with her friends, knowing how to have a good time. Maybe you should join them and lighten up a little, huh?”

“Yeah, sounds like a great idea.” I sulked off, not really sure where I was going. I certainly wouldn’t seek out Shell, especially if she was tripping like her man. 

Raucous laughter, off-beat tunes, and the haze of cigarette and pot smoke filled the air as I meandered through the camp. As the sun set, it cast an orange, almost sickly hue over tents and trees. I wondered if my folks were watching the sunset from their back porch at home, then realized it’d already be dark there. The three-hour time difference was something I often forgot.

What else did I often forget?

Who else did I often forget?

Afraid to answer those questions, I returned to our tent, ready to forget the day. That much I knew. As I approached our living area, however, Eddie’s laughter turned brittle.

“Hey, man, you okay?” he said. A pause. “Dave, buddy, speak to me.”

I strained to hear David’s reply over the murmurs and guitars on my left. I increased my pace until David and Eddie came into view. Eddie was kneeling over my fiancé, who was sprawled out on the grass.

I rushed to David’s side, my knees crashing into the soft, damp earth. “What happened?” I glanced from my guy’s handsome face to Eddie, feeling the glare on my face.

“I dunno, man. We were just havin’ a good time, singin’ stuff, and then he-he just…”

I waved him away. “You’re useless. Get the hell away.”

If Eddie said anything, I wouldn’t have heard it. David lay there, eyes on the sky, and his mouth moved rapidly. As I knelt beside him, I strained to hear what he was saying over the surrounding noise. Gripping the front of David’s shirt, I leaned down until our faces were inches apart. His eyes finally met mine, but they only locked with my gaze momentarily before they started wandering aimlessly once again.

“David, please, can you hear me?” I begged. Tear stung my eyes, and his face blurred before me.

I placed my ear right over his mouth. “Jules…”

“Yes?”

He chuckled. “Oh, Jules, man… You should see this!”

“See what?” I sat upright and glanced around. Eddie was nowhere in sight. All I saw were tents and people lazing around, nothing unusual.

David tried to sit up as he clutched at my sleeve. “Oh, babe, what’s the matter? You’re missin’ the greatest hits ever. I’m famous!”

I furrowed my brow. “I think you need to sleep this off. Come on, let’s get you in the tent.” I tried to help him stand, but his knees buckled, and he fell to the grass in a fit of laughter.

“Oh, Jules! Jules…don’t ya hear it? The music?”

He continued to mumble mostly incoherent nonsense. I didn’t know what he was experiencing; he never told me. Later, when I asked him about it, he said he didn’t remember. Instead, he’d spent the next hour lying outside, switching between laughing and crying, until he finally fell asleep. With embarrassment heating my face, I’d asked some nearby people to help move him into our tent.

I couldn’t shake that night, and now his life hung in the balance. 

I rushed past groups of barefoot hippies sitting in lazy circles while they passed joints and strummed guitars. A pang of resentment flared. How dare they be oblivious to David’s suffering, getting high, when that was exactly the reason for him being where he was now. 

I struggled to keep my gaze focused, let alone my mind. Why did we come here?! Why had we stayed this long? Didn’t I expect something like this to happen? Each breath came with great effort until my lungs burned as Eddie’s tent came into view. I spotted his lanky silhouette pacing erratically. 

His worried eyes met mine.  “Juliette…” he choked out. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault…”

I shoved past him. “Yeah, about time you took responsibility for something.” Rushing into the tent, I didn’t wait for his reply. The interior’s earthy smell swamped my senses before my eyes settled on David’s lifeless form sprawled out on a pile of blankets. His eyes were closed. Even in the low light, I could tell his skin had a sickly pallor. 

Heart thudding in my head, I collapsed to my knees and grabbed his sweaty hand. 

“David!” I cried, tears spilling over. “Please wake up!”

His head lolled to the side. Fear overtook me as I cupped that precious face between my hands and rested my forehead to his. My tears dropped onto his clammy, hot skin, each a plea for him to open his eyes, kiss me, joke, and tell me I was worrying about nothing. 

“David, please… You c-can’t leave me… We came here together. We’re supposed to be together.”

Nothing.

A movement to my left got my attention, and I turned as Eddie entered. Guilt was etched on every part of his face. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“How is he? Is he gonna be okay?” Eddie asked.

Jabbing a finger at him, I screamed, “This is your fault! You got him hooked on that poison!” 

Eddie stumbled back, nearly tripping over his feet, and his face twisted in anguish. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “I never should’ve… I-I mean…” 

“You’re worthless,” I replied, turning back to David. “He should’ve never hung out with you.”

Shell hovered nervously next to Eddie. “Hey, Jules…”

“Don’t you dare ‘Jules’ me! You’re no better than him.” I gestured toward Eddie. “If you two are good for anything, go get the medics.”

Holding up her hands in surrender, Shell nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure. Anything you need.” She scurried off.

Kneeling over David again, I patted his cheek. “C’mon, David. Please…wake up. Open your eyes, babe. Say something, anything!” I choked back a sob.

Behind me, Eddie paced, which only put me further on edge.

“Stop that or get out of here,” I demanded. “Make yourself useful, at least!” 

“S-sorry. Hey, maybe if I play him some music…” he rambled. “Yeah, that’s it! Music will bring him back. It’s the balm that heals all souls.”

“It’s more than his soul that needs healing, you idiot!” 

He grabbed his beloved instrument and smashed it to the ground with a guttural yell. I jumped in shock at his reaction, watching as he collapsed to his knees, gripping his curls as sobs escaped his wide-open mouth. He looked like a phantom wailing in the night. 

I recovered from the shock and turned back to David, not giving Eddie another thought. “David, can you hear me? Help’s on the way. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

But it was a promise I couldn’t make. David’s face was slack. His body lay like a limp ragdoll, strewn aside like a piece of junk. 

About the Author

 

Cynthia Hilston
Bestselling and award-winning author of the Lorna
& Tristan Series, Cynthia Hilston is a stay-at-home mom of three young
kids, happily married, and lives in the Cleveland, Ohio, area. Writing has
always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the
world of fan fiction, she has stepped away to do her debut dance with original
works of fiction, although she still dabbles in fan fiction.
In her spare
time–what spare time?–she devours books, pets her kitties, looks
at the stars, drinks wine or coffee with good friends, and dreams of what
other stories she wishes to tell.
Contact Links
TikTok: @cynthiahilston
Youtube:
@cyndihilston
Purchase Link

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Cream and Cream Puff Teaser

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Pup Tales, Book 7

 

Children’s Picture book: Tales of pups with life lessons

 

Date Published: 10-13-2026

Publisher: Atmosphere Press

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While out for his walk old Mr. Mcbain finds two small pups on the side
of the road. He scoops up the two abandoned and dirty pups in two small cups.
The pups in cups are bathed and fed at the local shelter. Happy, clean and
well fed the two pups are in for a surprise when Mcbain brings his neighbor
Mary to see them. Read about their happy ending from a tough beginning in this
seventh PupTale adventure.
Excerpt
One day while out walking, old Mr. McBain,
Spotted a box on the side of the lane.
Brown with a cover and ten inches square,
He took off the lid with very great care.
Out popped two heads that gave a big yelp,
Two filthy pups who needed some help.
Their coats were all matted ,their puppy eyes sad,
They were thin as a rail, smelled like fish that went bad.
McBain couldn’t leave them of that he was sure,
They needed to go somewhere safe and secure.
He looked all around, spotted two paper cups,
They looked about right to hold the small pups.
He lifted them up, put each of them in,
A perfect pup fit because they were thin.
He carried the cups down to the dog pound,
A much better place then where they were found.
The puppies were bathed and rinsed more than twice,
Combed and brushed out , they even smelled nice.
The two little pups looked so much the same,
To tell them apart each needed a name.
“What shall we call you,” said pound worker Pat,
Cinder and Rella, maybe Kit and Kit Kat?”
The pups had a thought when it came to their name,
How about Mr. and Mrs. McBain?
Pat looked at the pups and as if reading their minds,
Said “I think we should honor the man that was kind.
You’re a boy and a girl yet look quite the same,
The name that works best is the puppies McBain.
The pups grew tired after having been fed,
So Pat tucked them away in a warm comfy bed.
Happy they weren’t still out on their own,
They dreamed of life in a new doggie home.

About the Author

Nancy Nelson
Nancy nelson is the author of the PupTales series , a collection of
colorfully illustrated, rhyming stories featuring four-legged friends
navigating challenges, friendships and life lessons. A former newspaper
reporter, columnist, and editor, Nancy began her writing career in the
Cleveland area after growing up in Chicago.Her lifelong love of rhyme and
animals eventually inspired Pup Tales. By weaving the personalities, quirks,
and adventures of dogs into her stories, Nancy creates entertaining books that
encourage young readers to see challenges and mistakes as opportunities to
learn, grow, and discover something new.

 

Contact Links

 

Website

Facebook

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Bookshop

 

Purchase Links

 

https://mybook.to/CreamandCreamPuff7

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Siren’s Daughter Teaser

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Bacchanal Moonlight Mating Cruises 1

 

An Urban Fantasy Action Romance

 

Date Published: November 13, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

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A wishful siren. A jaded selkie. Can Cassie and Kenta find love on the
Bacchanal Moonrise?

 

Cassiopeia Thalassus has a problem. Under a strict injunction not to come home
until she’s pregnant, she’s been sent on an eight-day matchmaking
cruise by her father, Poseidon. The Bacchanal Moonrise has a reputation as the
perfect place for a fling — casual or otherwise. Cassie’s been sent to
meet a prince, and she hopes the guy is someone she can fall in love with. The
siren with whom she shares a soul, however, is all too willing to settle for
anyone, so this prince had better be worth the potential heartache.

Kenta Ōwatatsumi agreed to this date at the encouragement of his oldest
brother. Tired of the usual women who only want him for his selkie magic,
Kenta is looking for someone who wants him for more than just sex and selkie
parlor tricks. His aniki promised him someone different. His first sight of
Cassie Thalassus, however, has him questioning his brother’s good sense.
Instead of a simple blind date, Kenta’s been tricked into a stud call
for a lusty siren. His brother got one thing right, though. Cassie is
certainly different from any woman he’s ever known.

 

Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 Autumn Montague

 

Cassiopeia Thalassus stared at the door in front of her, nibbling at her
dry lips through the waxy taste of sour lychee lip balm and trying to decide
if she could actually go through with this. Youngest daughter of Poseidon,
Princess of the Atlantic, Siren-in-Waiting of the Lady of the Atlantic, all
hail the Princess of the Sea, but she couldn’t knock on a stateroom
door.

What a joke.

Cassie shifted her travel bag to a more comfortable position on her shoulder
and considered her options.

One. She could turn around and go back to the rock she shared with her
sisters.

Two. She had the wrong stateroom. She could just go back home and say she
tried.

Three. She could strip and waltz naked all over the damned ship, charming
everyone from the captain on down. At least one out of the hundreds of males
on this floating bacchanal should be up for the task. Nothing like a
never-ending orgy to get the job done, right?

Four. She could tough it out like she’d promised and put her heart out
there yet again, on the off chance something might go right for a change.

Keeping option one on hold for the moment, Cassie focused on option two — the
stateroom. She still had her father’s letter in her hand, so she slipped
it from the envelope. As she read it again, her gaze skimmed half-memorized
lines.

Cassiopeia,


Your mother is worried about your unwillingness to utilize your abilities to
their fullest potential. My darling Selene says it is past time for you to
carry on your siren lineage, but all I want is for you to be happy. I’m
very proud that you’ve finally made the decision to face your inner self
and be the siren you’re meant to be.


I have discussed your situation with an old friend, someone you might remember
— Lord Ōwatatsumi, the Ruler of the Sea of Japan.

Cassie stopped at this passage, trying hard to remember which sea god her
father was talking about. She’d met so many over the years that
she’d begun to wonder if the value of the title carried any merit at
all.

After a moment, she gave up with a sigh. All she could remember was a vague,
dark blue shape with a serpentine tail and a Chinese-style mustache. A long
mustache, one whose ends she had chased with fascination as they bobbed on the
surface of the Mediterranean somewhere near Crete. She shook the memory away
and continued.


We’ve set up a date for you with his son, a powerful demigod who
receives regular offerings from the Emperor of Japan. Considering your
circumstances, your mother and I feel you need someone strong, and he seems
like a perfect fit. I booked the two of you passage on the Bacchanal Moonrise
for their Yule tour of the Arctic. Prince Ōwatatsumi will be waiting in the
Royal Suite. Dictys will arrange your transportation to the ship.


Your mother sends her love and says you cannot come home until you are
pregnant.

With love,

Daddy


P.S. — I’m sorry to say this, but refusal is no longer an option. You
made a vow to your mother, so please don’t do anything that will make my
darling Selene unhappy. And by no means should you wear that ugly blue
disaster you use to hide your powers.


Eep.
She had missed that last line on her first read through. After a glance
at her blue sweatsuit, Cassie shrugged. There wasn’t much she could do
about it now. Well, she had been the one to declare her resolution to try, if
they would just leave her alone afterward.

So. She licked her lips again, tasting the last of the lychee wax, and looked
up.

The porter had looked askance at her when she asked about the Royal Suite but
had directed her to this blandly beautiful teak door, numbered just like any
other first-class stateroom and festooned with fragrant Yule greenery like the
rest of the ship. Cassie stared hard at the curvy brass numbers, hoping she
had been directed to the wrong stateroom. Said hope did nothing to change the
graceful swirl of the 1201 emblazoned on the door.

Damn. She had the right stateroom, so option two was a no-go.

Option three? The ease of it had its appeal, but… no. Just… no.
At least, not yet.

That left option one or option four.


Get on with it, child.
The siren’s caustic mental voice urged action,
and Cassie’s hand lifted at the siren’s direction. She stopped
herself from knocking just before her knuckles touched the polished wood.

Cassie considered letting the siren control their shared body to take over the
situation. It would be so much easier just to surrender to her siren the way
she always did. After all, their incomplete merge was the whole reason Cassie
was in this mess to begin with.


No, this incomplete merge is your mother’s fault, girl.
The
siren’s aggrieved tone suggested she wasn’t any happier than
Cassie with their mutual independence. Selene’s ambition has damaged all
of her children this way.

All of us? Cassie swallowed, started to ask, then shook the thought away.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was whether or not she could go
through with this. She had so much at stake. Getting pregnant would mean more
than just a casual encounter. It would mean exposing her heart again, but it
would also mean freedom from her mother’s demands. After another eternal
moment, Cassie sighed, nibbled at her lips a third time, and gave a quick
couple of raps. Silence reigned for a split second, and then the knob turned,
the door opened, and her chance to run vanished.

Her blind date stood in the doorway, tall enough for his head to brush the
lintel of the door. She’d been sent to meet a prince, and boy, did he
look the part.

The siren took a good long look and began to salivate mentally.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

The basso rumble rushed over Cassie like a breaking wave, sending an odd
electric tingle running along her skin. The unusual sensation vied with a hot
flush of embarrassment as she called her attention back to the issue at hand.
She knew better than to let her mind wander. Or to give her siren too much
free rein.

Cassie’s pulse beat a little faster as her date returned the stare in
good measure. Chocolate-brown eyes evaluated her, reaching no good conclusion
to judge by the look on his face.

This is her? His expression practically screamed the words.

Cassie supposed she wasn’t much to look at — she’d taken care to
dress down as much as possible. The forbidden blue fleece sweats had served
their purpose as she crossed the docks, covering her more obvious attractions
and allowing her to move through the boarding crowd with relative peace.
Crossing the docks had been hard enough without calling every drunken Yule
reveler in sight.

The siren gave her a mental nudge. Time to get it over with.

“I’m Cassie,” she said with an awkward half smile. Despite
her caution with dressing, she couldn’t disguise the sultry tones of her
voice or dampen pheromones that were as much a part of her as breathing.

He just looked at her with a steady, unflinching gaze, face closed and
unreadable except for his eyes. Those widened oh so slightly at the subsonic
vibrations in her voice. Even so, he did nothing except to step back with a
tiny bow, holding the door open for her to enter.

“Kenta Ōwatatsumi. Please enter.” The deep voice reflected nothing
of the lusty confusion Cassie’s subsonic tones should have elicited.

By now, the man should have been a quivering mess of hormones. Cassie’s
siren voice usually shot straight through men in a blaze of lusty pleasure,
like a heady liqueur. This prince’s lower half should be on fire.
Instead, he seemed unconcerned. Almost unaffected.

His odd lack of response made Cassie hesitate. She stood in the entrance of
the stateroom, stalling just the tiniest bit. She clutched at the padded strap
of her travel bag like a lifeline, wishing she’d taken option one
instead. Then the siren took control, and Cassie crossed the threshold in a
single flowing step, continuing through the cabin all the way to the bedroom
door on the far side of the suite, as far away as possible from the gorgeous
hunk of male currently blocking her escape.

“I assume you are my date for tonight?” Confusion filled the
prince’s ocean-dark voice as he picked up a crystal tumbler from a
decorative stand at the doorway. He idly swirled the dark amber liquid it
held, something smelling of cinnamon, nutmeg, and other unidentifiable spices.
Wassail, maybe. Well, it was a Yule cruise.

Cassie dumped her bag on the floor beside a black-lacquered chair before
turning back to face him. “I suppose I am.” She took a deep
breath, inhaling the tangy aroma of the bayberry and holly displays on the low
table and matching black-lacquered stepped chest. The heady fragrance of the
greenery steadied her nerves.

Time to unleash her darker side, if only for her own protection. Time to
pretend to be what she wasn’t, if only for a while. Time to set the
stage for her siren to take the lead. “I just didn’t expect Daddy
would set me up with a selkie for the Yule revels.” Even the densest
sex-crazed male of his race could not miss the sarcastic emphasis.

Awkward silence bloomed in the aftermath of Cassie’s words.

Kenta shut the stateroom door and leaned against it, his handsome face still
politely neutral, though his beautiful eyes narrowed at her snide comment. An
impressive reddish-gray fur coat hung neatly on the hook behind his head.
Judging by the size of that sealskin, he’d mass nearly fifteen hundred
pounds in his animal form, larger than any of the shifter seals Cassie had
ever met. The faintest clink of rattled ice from the tumbler suggested her
words had stung.

What had possessed her father? A selkie, of all things. Some demigod. If she
was going to be sold to the highest bidder, Cassie would rather it be someone
with real power. No selkie could fill that bill. From what she had heard,
their magic was limited to conjuring pretty trinkets and a little bit of luck
— neither of which would do a damn thing to solve her problem.

Nor would it give her date any clue to Cassie’s peculiar nature.

Those dark eyes assessed her again and still found her wanting. “Look —
Cassie, was it? Do you really understand what you’re doing here?”
Or who I am?

 

About the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not
necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her
writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan,
strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes
all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves.

And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

Author’s Website

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

 

 

 

 

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My Story, God’s Glory Virtual Book Tour

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RELIGION / Christian Living / Spiritual Growth / Biography

Date Published: September 8, 2026

Publisher: Clay Bridges Press

 

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 This is a testimony of faith: real, tested, questioned, and ultimately
transformed.

In this deeply personal journey, Taylor Turner shares her walk with God
through seasons that challenged everything she thought she knew about faith.
With honesty and vulnerability, she invites readers into her story, revealing
what it truly means to trust God—not only in moments of joy, but in
times when life feels uncertain, overwhelming, and beyond control.

Her faith was never perfect.
It was questioned.
It was stretched.
At
times, it felt fragile.

This book is for real people who wrestle with doubt, who carry questions, and
who have experienced seasons where belief does not come easily. It is for
anyone who has ever wondered where God is in the middle of their story.

Though not a story of perfect faith, My Story, God’s Glory is a story of
growing faith. Page by page, one truth becomes clear: a relationship with God
is not formed in comfort, but in surrender—shaped in the very moments
that test us most.

Inspired by the call of Jesus in Mark 16:15 to “go into all the world
and proclaim the gospel,” this story is shared to declare what God has
done and to point others back to Him.

If you are searching, struggling, or longing for something deeper, this book
will remind you that God is nearer than you think—and that your story is
not finished.

Because even when faith feels weak, God remains faithful.

 

My Story, God's Glory paperback

EXCERPT

It was Wednesday evening, and it was the first day of school of the year. I came home from school and was welcomed by beautiful tie-dye flowers on the table with a note from Alvin saying, “I hope you had an amazing first day, love you.” I got settled into bed later that evening as Alvin and I were texting. He was working the night shift.

 

He asked me how my day was, and we began to make plans for Labor Day and how the cleaning lady was coming tomorrow. I then asked for one more favor, “Can you please pick up a pregnancy test? I’m thirteen days late, but I could still start my period soon. I just want to be sure.” He said, “Yes, I can, beautiful,” with a ton of smiley emojis. We then talked more about our day and how we would meet each other in the morning to work out, and said I love you and goodnight. I took Benadryl and knocked out. That was around 8:00 or so. Around 11:30 PM, I woke up to Alvin’s parents waking me up in bed. I was so groggy from the Benadryl that I did not hear them knocking.

Their faces were etched with panic and worry. At that moment, my heart dropped, and I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced as they told me Alvin had been in an oil field accident. They couldn’t provide any details, only that we needed to get to the hospital in Lubbock as soon as possible.

In those frantic moments, fear gripped me. The uncertainty of what had happened, the unanswered questions gnawing at me, was he alive? How bad was it? Could I lose him? I didn’t have time to process what was happening. I stood there in my closet, just staring at my clothes.

Tev had to go in there and snap me out of it so we could go. I knew our lives were about to change drastically. The drive to the hospital was a blur of emotions, mostly silent prayers and lots of tears. On the drive over there, Alvin called us from the helicopter. He sounded scared and told his parents not to tell me because he didn’t want me to worry. They told him that I was there. I said, “Hey baby, I love you.” He told me he loved me and then asked his mom to pray for him.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for saving Alvin, we thank you for healing his body, and that you would give him strength and that you would lead and guide every doctor that comes in contact with him. Protect him and cover him, remove any fear that Alvin has, in Jesus’s name.” We all said Amen, and Alvin told us they were going to sedate him. He sounded scared and in pain. I begged God to spare him, to let him be okay. I didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of a test; a test that would push my faith, my strength, and my love, not just for Alvin but for God, to the absolute brink.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were told that Alvin was severely burned. They couldn’t tell us how bad or to what extent, but only that we shouldn’t get our hopes up, and that the next seventy-two hours were critical. Those three days felt like an eternity, filled with waiting, worrying, and more silent prayers. Every minute dragged, the air thick with fear and uncertainty. It was during those long hours that I began to question everything. Why him? Why us? What did we do to deserve this? And more than that, where was God in all of this?

The moment I saw Alvin in the hospital bed, I felt like my whole world had been shattered. He was barely recognizable, wrapped in bandages, with machines beeping steadily around him. It was a sight I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. I had to fight back tears as I stood by his side, clutching his hand. Even in his injured state, he was still Alvin to me, the man I loved, and I couldn’t imagine life without him. His sister came up to me and said, “We will understand if you can’t do this or be with him.” It honestly hurt my feelings that she asked. I loved her brother so much; I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to stand by his side no matter what.

The doctors explained that over 80% of his body was burned, from his cheeks down to his ankles. He had mostly third-degree burns that would take months, if not years, to heal. Even after all that, this would be a lifetime of change and a process if he made it out. IF.

 

About the Author

Taylor Turner

 Taylor Turner is a wife, mom of three, and a high school science teacher with
over 12 years of experience, based in Midland, Texas. She serves at Hope Alive
Church and is passionate about helping families grow closer to Christ and to
one another.

God has called her to create faith-based resources for the home, including
Bible studies, books, and journals for all ages. She is the author of From
Manger to Messiah, a family Advent study designed to help parents lead their
children in Scripture and meaningful conversations about Jesus.

Taylor believes faith is meant to be lived out daily in the home. She
understands the challenges parents face and encourages them that it
doesn’t have to be perfect—just intentional.

Through her writing and her brand, “I Noah Mom LLC,” she shares
her testimony and practical ways to live out faith. Her mission is to help
families build strong foundations and walk closely with God together

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The Night Before Christmas – A Savoir is Born Teaser

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The Night Before Christmas - A Savoir is Born cover

 

Children’s Christmas Christian/Religious

Date Published: 11-01-2026

Publisher: 100X Publishing

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The greatest gift came in the smallest of ways. 
On a quiet night in Bethlehem, Mary and Joseph searched for a place to welcome their precious baby. What they found was a humble stable, and what happened there would change the world forever.
This heartwarming, faith-based children’s book celebrates the story of Jesus’ birth for readers young and old. May it become a cherished family favorite and a beloved Christmas tradition to share around the Christmas tree year after year.
Through gentle rhyme and beautiful storytelling, The Night Before Christmas: A Savior Is Born invites children and families to experience the wonder of that very first Christmas: the star in the sky, the angels’ song, the shepherds who came to see, and the wise men who came bearing gifts.
But above all, it is the story of a tiny baby who was so much more than an ordinary child.

Jesus. Our Savior. Our King, and the reason we celebrate Christmas.

 

 
Excerpt
 
To the stable they rushed,
They knew it wasn’t far,
And as Mary looked up,
She saw a bright star,
Then came the baby,
And when Mary looked to see,
As always through a Mother’s eyes,
He was as perfect as could be,
But as He looked like any other,
This baby was different as you may recall,
He was born to free us,
Born to save us all,
His name was called Jesus,
Our perfect Savior and friend,
God made flesh,
To live among men,

About the Author

Julie Hansen

 Julie Hansen is a Christian, wife, and mother of four who has always cherished
the wonder and joy of Christmas. Her journey as an author began many years
ago, while she was pregnant with her first child, a son.

As Julie prepared to become a mother for the first time, she found herself
thinking about Mary in a way she never had before. Through her own
anticipation, excitement, and love for the little life growing inside her, she
began to imagine what Mary’s heart must have felt like as she awaited
the birth of Jesus—the Son she would love as a mother and the Savior she
would one day watch give His life for the world.

From those thoughts came a story written from a mother’s heart, with the hope
of helping children experience the wonder of that very first Christmas.

Years later, that story has become Julie’s first published children’s book.
Her greatest hope is that as families read these pages together, they will be
reminded of the beautiful truth at the heart of Christmas: Jesus is God’s
greatest gift to the world.

Julie is grateful for the opportunity to share this story with families and
hopes it will become a cherished part of their Christmas traditions for years
to come.

 

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