Category Archives: Book Tour

Never Lost Virtual Book Tour

Never Lost banner

 Never Lost cover

 


General Fiction

Date Published: October 23rd, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

good reads button

 

Zane Carter and his sons, eleven-year-old Ty and thirteen-year-old
Joseph, venture one hundred miles into the Idaho wilderness with only a knife
and the knowledge of their Nez Perce ancestors. Danger awaits at every
deadfall and lurks in every snowy shadow as the boys hunt, fish, make weapons,
and build shelter, learning to survive, taking only what they need from the
land, and leaving no trace.

During their eighteen-day journey, Zane’s determination to fulfill a
promise to his grandfather, an Indigenous warrior who exemplified the tenets
of a wise and spiritual existence, is thwarted by a fatal encounter that
transports Zane into an ancient realm as he straddles the thin line between
life and death.

He wonders what has become of his boys. Have they learned enough patience,
resourcefulness, and courage to complete this rite of passage? Will they make
it out of the wildlands alive? Or will the unforgiving forces of the natural
world take them too far from home to ever return?

Never Lost tablet

EXCERPT

Zane stood at the edge of the trees, closed his eyes and soaked in the smells of the conifers and the sound of the gentle sway of the aspen in the evening breeze. The trail was a peaceful walk along a small creek overhung with forest canopy that led to a suddenly open meadow with wisps of steam drifting up from the grass and rock. The hot mineral springs percolated up through the earth in wide marshy patches that trickled slowly to the creek.

He walked to the far side of the meadow and down to the creek to his favorite camp area. He was the first person into this spot this season and the winter had pressed hard on the land. The fire ring was washed out and tree branches lay tangled after being dragged down by the heavy snow and wind.

Zane prepared a level sleeping area free of rocks and debris, then laid out the ground covers for the sleeping bags. He gathered the firewood, made roasting sticks out of willow branches, then went to work repairing winter damage on one of the central pools. The hot springs had been used by the Native People for thousands of years. This had always been a place of peace and healing.

The People would travel to these mineral baths and respect it as neutral ground where there was truce between all who rested here. The healing water rose up from the ground and mixed with the fresh clear stream. Year after year the areas where the hot springs poured up from the ground, the cool creek was mixed in to a desired temperature.

Pools were made by stacking the river rock as deep as someone was willing to work. By the end of the summer, some of the pools had been improved by hundreds of people till they became as comfortable as any hot tub. Zane waded barefoot into the icy water and started moving rocks. The spring runoff had overrun the pools, scattering the rocks so there were only impressions where deep pools had once been. As the wall of rocks diverted the main thrust of the creek around the hot water rising from below, the water warmed, and the work became more pleasant. It took an hour before they could enjoy a warm soak.

A half hour after dark, Joseph and Ty trotted up to Zane’s once peaceful fire. The two young men, drunk with adventure, proudly held their trophies aloft.

“That was the best fishing I’ve ever done!” Joseph said.

Ty yelled, “Look what I caught!” He held up the beautiful native trout.

“We kept three. One for each of us,” Joseph said. “But I bet we threw back five or six. It was the best! Can we stop back here on our way home?”

“Depends how things go, but at this point I kind of doubt it. Don’t worry; this is one of my favorite places. We’ll be back, but right now let’s cook up these nice elk steaks. Here are some baked potatoes. I cooked them last night. We will warm them by the fire. You guys watch your own, okay?”

“I always burn my potatoes. Can you do mine?” asked Ty. “And I want to eat my fish. I’ll have my steak for breakfast. Okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” said Joseph. “I like to eat my fish before the spots fade.”

“All right, we’ll have fish. But I want you guys to cook your steaks. We need to make a quick start tomorrow. Get to it, if you want to take a soak before bed. I also want to fill you in on where we’re going and what we’ll be doing.”

The boys hurried down to the creek to clean the fish. They were filled with the thrill of the catch and eager to finally learn where they were going and how they would be spending the next two weeks.

While Zane whittled on some small skewers to help hold the fish onto the roasting sticks, he thought back to the last time he was at these springs. In the pouring rain he rested in the hot water on a late August night. Lightning flashed frantically along the ridges on both sides of the creek. Zane had watched one bolt hit a tall white fir sending it into fiery fragments. The night looked like day and the thunder echoed through the canyon like cannons.

The other people at the springs had all run for cover through the sheets of water when the lightning strikes walked across the meadow. Zane had always figured that when God was ready for him, no amount of running would change his destiny. And by God, that was the finest fireworks display Zane had ever seen. He looked for thunderheads in the star-filled sky and then turned his attention to mounding the coals to roast these most beautiful brown trout.

About the Author

Aaron Anderson
After high school, Aaron Anderson set out to see the world, embarking on
adventures through North America, Europe, and North Africa. He enjoyed
traveling as a bicyclist, motorcyclist, train passenger, and even as a
hitchhiker, reveling in the excitement of the unknown.

At the age of twenty-two, Aaron returned to the US and worked on oil rigs in
Wyoming. He later became a carpenter and eventually a real estate appraiser.
However, his true passions have always been writing, developing powerful
friendships, and exploring new country.

During the 1980s he and his two sons hunted, hiked, and camped throughout the
western states. Here, his love for the natural world and respect for
Indigenous people prompted him to write his second novel, Never Lost.

Contact Link

Facebook

Youtube

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Never Lost Virtual Book Tour

Filed under Book Tour

Convention of Dragons Teaser

Convention of Dragons banner
Convention of Dragons cover

 

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Polyamorous, Shapeshifters

Date Published: October 31, 2025

good reads button

 

When duty calls, where will the heart go?

Joel’s twin has been hurt, and Joel decides to stay with him rather than
join his new lovers across the sea. But fate, and a serial killer, have other
plans.

Parisa and Noah are drifting apart and without Joel they might lose everything
they’ve built.

Can this new throuple fight together to win their happiness or will evil
triumph?

 

Convention of Dragons paperback

 

 
EXCERPT

 

“Hooo-elll…”

It was Parisa’s voice, but he couldn’t touch her physically or
telepathically. All Joel’s senses were blurred.

Joel wasn’t sure if he’d passed out, but everything was foggy. Not
dark, since he had no concept of light beyond the meaning of the word, but
misty. It was like the fog that clung to his face and arms, to his hearing and
sense of smell when he’d visited England thirty years ago. He’d
never forget that sensation of everything being muffled. The sound of his own
voice had been right, but the tapping of his cane tip on the cobblestones in
London had been oddly removed from the rest of him. He’d actually fallen
a couple of times in London, not because he couldn’t feel the ground but
because he had tried too hard to rely on the sound of his cane to tell him the
depth of things like cracks and steps.

Now, although the sense of being wrapped in cotton persisted, he felt even
more cut off from the world because he was really two people. He
couldn’t attend to his own movements or speech while living in
Jules’s head. Especially not when Jules was so distant from the world.
His whole spirit seemed caught up in confusion and fear. So although Joel and
Jules sometimes lived in each other’s heads for brief moments, there had
never been such a fundamental separation from physical reality.

Dimly, he could feel a hand caressing his face. He tried to reach up and catch
those fingers, but his arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. He
attempted another connection with Jules, one that would allow him to
communicate more than just his confusion and to feel Jules’s sense of
dislocation. That, too, failed.

Someone spoke then, their voice cutting through the fog. “Joel.”
It was James, the dragon guarding him. “Joel, come back. Follow me if
you’re turned around.”

He clung to those words and finally managed, by trailing after them in the
psychic world, to reestablish himself in the realm of touch, hearing, and
scent.

The person caressing his face paused and Parisa asked, “Can you hear me,
Joel?”

“Yes,” he croaked, his throat dry.

“Drink,” she answered, and he opened his mouth, unsure if he would
feel a glass against his lips or her cupped hand. He registered the water as
cool and drank as palmfuls were brought to his lips. From where he’d
heard Parisa’s voice, he’d expected the water to come from another
angle. Maybe Noah was actually giving him the refreshing liquid.

“James?” he asked between mouthfuls.

“He’s not here,” Parisa said, “although I heard him
too. It was like he somehow tapped into a telepathy that could be carried to
more than one person.”

“Are either of you hurt?” Joel asked.

“No,” Parisa answered after a moment. He wondered what caused the
hesitation. Then she explained. “Noah is shell-shocked, I think.
He’s –”

“I’m fine,” Noah said firmly. “Just… sorry
about…”

Struggling to raise his head, Joel felt hands tighten on his shoulders. He
fought down the instantaneous panic that clawed at his throat. “Unless
there’s a reason for me to be lying on my back,” he said as gently
as he could manage, “I’d rather sit up.”

The hands released him and as he sat up, crossing his legs, he felt
Parisa’s breath on his shoulder blade. He was still naked. He shivered
and instinctively pulled his legs up to shield his stomach and softer bits. He
wasn’t afraid of Parisa or Noah, but he felt vulnerable. “What
happened?”

“There was an explosion,” Noah said, and he did sound a little
shocky because his voice trembled. “Over at the other house, we
think.”

“Definitely not here,” Parisa put in. “Do either of you need
a towel? There aren’t robes in here, and I don’t think we should
leave the bathroom until we get the all-clear.”

So, that was why his bare butt was on tile. “Did you two carry me in
here?”

Again, there was that momentary pause. Then Parisa said, “I helped Noah
and carried you, yes.”

Their location made sense even if nothing else did. As far as Joel knew, the
bathroom might be the only room in the smaller house without windows.

Not like the one that had blown inward, injuring Jules.

He shivered as that realization, sent by his twin, hit him. Jules didn’t
actually know it had been a window, but he’d had glass taken out of his
arm so he’d made an educated guess. Joel said, “Soon as we can, I
need to get to Jules. Something’s seriously wrong with him.”

“Can you feel him?” Parisa asked, her hand warm on his back.

“Not now but…” He shivered again, unable to help himself.
“He was muffled, or that’s what it felt like. Like having your
head wrapped in a blanket.”

Noah began, “Did he –”

Someone interrupted, throwing open the door. “Here they are,” said
James, his voice tight.

“Good,” said a voice that came out slightly tinny. “Help is
on the way but it’s a good hour out. See if you can move them to this
building.”

“Will do.” James crouched, his voice coming from off to
Joel’s right. “Are any of you hurt?”

Joel shook his head. “I’m fine. It didn’t happen
here.” He reached out toward James’s voice, but Parisa caught his
hand.

“Agent Tavery,” she said softly, “you’re
bleeding.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Convention of Dragons Teaser

Filed under Book Tour

Gonzales the Street Cat Virtual Book Tour

Gonzales the Street Cat banner

 

Gonzales the Street Cat cover
 
Children’s Book

 

Date Published: 08-10-2025

 

Publisher: Magnetic Lion
Productions

 

good reads button

An adventure with claws, courage, and a dash of cat-titude.

 

When Kitty and Jack arrive in a magical desert kingdom, the last thing they
expect is to adopt a wise-cracking rescue cat with a serious attitude and a
mysterious past.
Once abandoned, he dreams of stability…and a loving
home. However, the trio must navigate a series of challenges, encountering new
places and experiences.

 

Based on a true story and told from a
feline perspective, this heart-warming and amusing tale of friendship, feline
wisdom and second chances will suit fans of ‘Garfield’ or
‘The Travelling Cat Chronicles.’

 

 

Gonzales the Street Cat tablet

EXCERPT

Now was the time to discover the truth behind Zeus’s smirk. He crept towards the villa, looking for evidence. 

At first, everything looked normal. The gate was closed and he couldn’t hear hoomans talking. Maybe he had made a mistake and the newcomers were just like the rest. He was about to leave when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Two plastic bowls. Had he been right all along?

Qitt approached, examining each one in turn. One bowl contained water and grateful for the opportunity to drink, he lapped some of it. After quenching his thirst, he stuck his nose in the other bowl.

I knew it!

There’s a food conspiracy!

While the bowl was empty, it had a distinct odour of something meaty.

Bingo!

Someone is indeed putting out food.

Sauntering down Street 122, he discovered Batcat skittering between parked vehicles.

“What’s up?” said Qitt.

Batcat gave a feline kind of shrug.

“Nothing.”

Hmmm, doesn’t seem like it.

What am I missing?

Curtains was none the wiser.

“The eternal optimist, aren’t you?” he said to Qitt. “Plastic bowls mean nothing.”

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the disappointment, but his gut niggled, and not because of rotten food. There was still a mystery.

Later that week, a new kitty appeared on the scene. It was a female tabby with subtle splashes of ginger. Qitt spotted her checking the empty plastic bowl. Like Batcat, she was easily startled and jumped when Qitt lapped water from the second container. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she scolded.

“I wasn’t sneaking…. Anyway, this isn’t your district.”

She batted a paw at him.

“Does it have your name on it?”

“Well, no, but…there’s not enough food for all of us.”

She jerked her head in the direction of the empty bowl.

“Evidently, there is.”

Without another word, she darted across the road and disappeared through a gap in a gate.

They’re all privy to it.

Except me.

And I claimed dibs on those hoomans too.

The solution was clear. He’d need to stake out the premises and discover the truth once and for all. Qitt would also need to do it alone and couldn’t count on Curtains or the others. He sat behind a palm tree, patient and determined.

Nothing happened that first evening and he wondered if he was wasting his time. Tabby stopped by the gate, followed by Batcat, although Zeus was absent. It seemed most of the cat community were expecting a miracle too.

He returned the next day and started the surveillance earlier, praying to Sky Cat to deliver. The two bowls were in place and the street was free of cats. Qitt positioned himself behind the palm tree, wishing he had a chicken wing to nibble to pass the time.

Sure enough, the gate clicked, creaked and swung open. Both new hoomans emerged, Jack holding an object in his hands. He bent down and placed something in one of the containers.

Pawsome!

Caught them in the act!

Tip-pawing across the road, Qitt approached, his caution overridden by the gnawing ache in his stomach. The smell of something meaty wafted past his nostrils and he almost swooned at the aroma. Kitty and Jack noticed him.

“Oh look,” she said, “there’s a new cat. I haven’t seen him before.”

New?

I was here looong before you guys.

They eased back and Qitt took the first mouthful, his taste buds leaping somersaults in delight. It was so wet and juicy, nothing like the old fried chicken or shawarma his palate endured. The food slipped down his throat and into his stomach like a fish swimming downstream.

“Wow, he’s really hungry,” Jack said. “He’s finished the food already.”

Too right.

I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

Jack put another spoon of food in the bowl.

“He’s a real Greedy Gonzales,” Kitty commented.

Who are you calling Greedy Gonzales?

I’m literally wasting away.

Look, my bones are almost poking out.

He licked the saucy remains from the corners of the container. Jack stroked his head after he’d finished.

“I’m surprised he lets us touch him.”

Greedy Gonzales sat by the open gate, watching them enter their apartment and close the door. Once he realised that the hooman’s brief petting session had concluded, he walked away, licking his lips.

I came.

I saw.

I gobbled.

Strolling towards the sunset with a full stomach, he searched for Curtains and the others, eager to share the news and prove him wrong. Then it hit him. If he made it public in the feral feline network, all cats would visit this new restaurant to eat. Gonzales decided to keep it a secret, at least for now. These hoomans had the potential for adoption, and he might make his move in the near future.

 

About the Author

Kitty May Gruchelska loves creating fantastical worlds for her readers, full
of diverse and quirky characters. In a past life, she was probably a cat
because she likes tuna, dislikes water, and frequently knocks things over, but
luckily, she has nine lives. Kitty May teaches in a magical desert kingdom
full of sunshine, camels, and rice dishes. She loves travelling, which also
inspires her to write.

Contact Links
Purchase Links

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Gonzales the Street Cat Virtual Book Tour

Filed under Book Tour

Class War Then and Now Virtual Book Tour

Class War Then and Now banner
Class War Then and Now cover

 

Political Nonfiction

 

good reads button

 

For nearly fifty years, America’s working and middle classes have
been under relentless attack. Wages have stagnated, inequality has soared, and
the vast majority now lives paycheck to paycheck—while trillions of
dollars flow upward into the pockets of the wealthiest few. Class War, Then
and Now
is both a searing indictment of this economic and political order and
an impassioned call to arms for a new left rooted in class struggle,
solidarity, and socialist values.

Drawing on a decade of essays and articles originally published in outlets
such as Dissent, New Politics, CounterPunch, Socialist Forum, Truthout, and
Common Dreams,
historian Chris Wright examines the deep roots of
capitalism’s crises and the failures of the contemporary left to
confront them. In sharp, accessible prose, Wright tackles:

The centrality of class struggle in building a movement that can unite working
people

Why identity politics, while important, must not overshadow the fight
against capitalism

The overlooked necessity of nuclear power in addressing climate change

Lessons from labor history, from Jimmy Hoffa to modern union battles

The catastrophic consequences of American imperialism and endless war

How organized labor remains humanity’s most universal force for
justice

 

With the urgency of a manifesto and the depth of historical scholarship,
Wright argues that only a rational, international, and truly Marxist left can
stop the United States—and the world—from sliding into neofascism
and ecological collapse.

If you care about economic justice, social reform, and the future of
democracy
, Class War, Then and Now will challenge your thinking, sharpen your
arguments, and inspire action.

Class War Then and Now tablet

EXCERPT

Preface

 

         It isn’t a secret that the world is in trouble, most ominously from ecological collapse and the ever-present possibility of nuclear war. Stated in the simplest terms, the reason is that capitalism is running amok and the left has almost no power across most of the world. Capitalism cares only about making profit; values such as environmental conservation, preservation of human and animal life, the ending of war, abolition of nuclear weapons, and human well-being count for little or nothing. The only way such values can rise to prominence is if popular movements fighting against capitalism force them onto the political agenda. But popular movements, including the labor movement, perennially lack sufficient resources to halt or reverse capitalism’s misanthropic tendencies. In the neoliberal era, this perennial problem has become more serious than ever. Hence the prospect of civilization’s collapse in our century.

         The only hope, it seems, is that the world’s descent into multidimensional crisis will itself generate the conditions for the popular majority to effectually fight back. For the sake of survival and out of disgust with the political and economic status quo, people will be compelled to join together to build oppositional movements and cultures and institutions, in fact even new modes of material production and distribution on the basis of which, eventually, a new kind of politics may arise. As the old world suffers its torturously protracted collapse, a new world might be born amidst its ashes. I have discussed the “historical logic” of this process, as well as speculated on some of the possibilities, in a book called Worker Cooperatives and Revolution: History and Possibilities in the United States (2014), using a revision of the Marxist theory of revolution to illuminate how the whole gigantic transition between modes of production, from capitalist to cooperative, might unfold. I present a summary in two essays below, “The Significance and Shortcomings of Karl Marx” and “Eleven Theses on Socialist Revolution.” The ideas may be too optimistic, but in that case humanity’s future will be very grim indeed.

         This book, to quote the Port Huron Statement of 1962, “is guided by the sense that we may be the last generation in the experiment with living.” In essence, it is an elaboration of what I take to be a consistent Marxist philosophy, the sort of philosophy that must be realized on a large scale if humanity is to have a decent future. Not all leftists will agree with everything in the book. For example, I criticize identity politics from a Marxist point of view, and I argue that feminism should prioritize materialist issues over certain “culturalist” ones (in addition to the very common, and very doctrinaire,social constructionist theorizing of gender) fashionable under the influence of postmodern academia. I also defend nuclear energy as an essential component of a transition to clean energy, a stance that isn’t popular on the left. Nor will most Marxists appreciate the revisions I’ve made to the Marxian conception of revolution. Nevertheless, I’m convinced that rationality, respect for evidence, and open-mindedness should guide our thinking. We shouldn’t remain perpetually chained to old theories, old analyses, and old prophecies that history has proved wrong. I like the slogan of the young Marx: “For a ruthless criticism of everything existing!” Leftists are hardly infallible.

         The book consists of essays and articles written between 2014 and 2024, which were published in CounterPunch, Socialist Forum, Dissent, New Politics, ROAR Magazine, Common Dreams, Dissident Voice, Sublation, Compact, and Class, Race and Corporate Power. I’ve tried to impose an order on the material by arranging it in four parts according to thematic content. Such content, too, implicitly links successive chapters. Inevitably, there is some repetition between essays, but I’ve lightly revised them to try to minimize that.

         Not all the essays are directly political. The first one, for instance, on the value of the humanities, might seem out of place in a book devoted to critiquing capitalism and defending a leftist philosophy. I’ve included it because art and the humanities are fighting an existential battle today, and in the end they represent the human spirit facing off against the spirit of commercial gain. If the former can’t find some way to put shackles on the latter, our descendants may inherit a world of ashes.

            Likewise, the inclusion of seemingly random pieces on Beethoven, classical music, Jimmy Hoffa, the authoritarianism of the U.S.’s “founding fathers,” the implicit radicalism of most working people, and other topics might be faulted, but I think it is justified by the book’s general themes of class struggle and building a left grounded in rationality and human dignity rather than woke dogmas, academic groupthink, and pop cultural mediocrity. For example, historically the left had great respect for high culture, from Bach to Balzac, the Enlightenment to modern science. The postmodern left’s scorn for the past achievements of genius (“they’re white supremacist, patriarchal, misogynistic, heteronormative, colonialist, Eurocentric!”) is but another manifestation of the left’s degeneration due to the influence of academia, post-1960s social movements, neoliberal evisceration of the labor movement, and neoliberal culture. The old left had plenty of flaws, but it also had strengths that have been lost.

         The writing in this book reflects my belief that, by and large, academic modes of writing and thinking are not necessary in order to grasp truth. They are just as likely to obscure as to illuminate. The greatest scholar in history, after all—whose 150+ books encompass linguistics, cognitive science, philosophy, evolutionary biology, history, contemporary politics, media analysis, the history of science, and other areas—is Noam Chomsky, and he rejects academic conventions in favor of clear writing, insightful thinking, and intellectual honesty. One doesn’t need endless convoluted verbiage backed by scores of citations in order, for example, to understand why gender relations are as they are, as I try to show in the article on patriarchy. Straightforward reason suffices. In fact, institutional thinking and behavior are among the greatest threats to life today, and they should be repudiated.

         In its “humanistic” philosophy expounded in a somewhat disjointed way, the book amounts to a continuation of two others that are even more unconventional: Notes of an Underground Humanist (2013) and Finding Our Compass: Reflections on a World in Crisis (2014), both available for free online. My Journal of a Dissenter (2025) contains countless summaries of good scholarship that is far too rarely read. Readers interested, on the other hand, in a more arduous interrogation of social history might enjoy a book entitled Popular Radicalism and the Unemployed in Chicago during the Great Depression (2022). The present book reproduces ideas from these others, but hopefully in a more concise and digestible way.

         Nothing is more urgent today than for us to collectively recover human values, learn from history, think critically about our society, and build international social movements to save the future for our children. I hope this book makes some small contribution to these colossal tasks.

 

 

About the Author

Chris Wright

 

 Chris Wright is a U.S. historian, author, and lecturer at Hunter College, City
University of New York
, specializing in labor history and radical political
theory.
His work explores the history of capitalism and social movements, with
a focus on building an international left capable of confronting economic
inequality, rising authoritarianism, and ecological collapse.

Wright is the author of multiple works of political nonfiction, including
Worker Cooperatives and Revolution: History and Possibilities in the United
States and Popular Radicalism
and the Unemployed in Chicago during the Great
Depression.
His newest release, Class War, Then and Now: Essays toward a New
Left, compiles a decade of essays originally published in respected left-wing
and independent outlets such as Dissent, New Politics, CounterPunch, Socialist
Forum, Compact, and Common Dreams
.

Over the years, his analysis and commentary have appeared in publications
ranging from the Washington Post to Truthout, earning him recognition for his
Marxist-informed, historically grounded critiques of capitalism and his
advocacy of a democratic socialist movement.

In addition to his academic work, Wright has written philosophical essays,
fiction, and poetry, reflecting a lifelong interest in art, music, and the
human condition. His current research and writing center on the labor
movement, anti-capitalist strategies, and the urgent need for systemic change

to address economic, political, and environmental crises.

 

Contact Links

 

Website

“X”

LinkedIn

https://independent.academia.edu/ChrisWright82

 

Purchase Link

 

Amazon

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Class War Then and Now Virtual Book Tour

Filed under Book Tour

Scenes From a Song Virtual Book Tour

Scenes From a Song banner
Scenes From a Song cover

 

Music Fiction

Date Published: 09-30-2025

Publisher: Covfefe Press

 

good reads button

 

 For anyone who’s ever said, “They’re playing my song!”

On
Halloween Eve, 1961, in his dingy Bronx walkup apartment, seventeen-year-old
Jimmy Welton hears the opening notes of a song in his head. Jimmy’s
still mourning his firefighter father, who taught him to play the guitar but
recently died in a house fire, leaving his family destitute. Jimmy takes this
song, about all he misses from his life now, to the New York amusement park
where he works after school. There, he meets Mark Morgan, a rebellious teen
with his own band, who eventually invites Jimmy to join them. And the rest is
rock’n roll history…
The GooseBumps become a worldwide phenomenon, and
the songs they write and sing together become the backbone of rock musical
history. And the song Jimmy first heard on Halloween, “Wrapped in Gauze”,
becomes the song that not only comforts him in that terrible time but also
comforts others: Victoria, recently divorced and dealing with an unthinkable
family tragedy; Carolyn, whose final flippant words to someone in pain can’t
be taken back; and Jack, battling back from unimaginable loss with the help of
his cheeky therapist and a song he thinks he hates.

 

SCENES
FROM A SONG
is the story of a song that makes us smile, that breaks our
hearts, that stays with us forever, and the very special band that started it
all.

 

Scenes From a Song tablet

EXCERPT

    The results were in before Victoria had prepared herself to hear them.

     Cancer! How could a boy of twelve get cancer? How was this possible?

     She didn’t know what to do first. Call her ex? Tell Dave? Tell Michael? Call the school?

     The doctor advised her to start treatment immediately, to let Dave and the school know and then handle everything else as needed. This was a lot to deal with, and Dave needed treatment as quickly as possible. Once they established that, they could do everything else in small bites.

     Victoria asked the inevitable question. “How bad is this? I mean, it’s not—he’d not going to die?”

     The doctor answered gently, “This is bad, Victoria. I have to be honest with you.”

     “But you’ve had other patients who—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

     “No, actually,” the doctor said as gently as possible. “I’ve never had a patient this young develop cancer.”

     “Well, but you’ve had other patients who did? How did they do?”

     The doctor sighed. “Let’s get Dave into treatment as soon as possible.”

     Victoria found her voice. “How bad is this? What are we looking at, here?”

     The doctor looked her as kindly as possible. “We’ll see how he responds to treatment. Some people do incredibly well with chemotherapy and radiation. They’ve beaten it. But it’s going to be hard on his system, and we’ll do our best.”

     “Surgery?” Victoria asked. She was thinking she needed to stop at the library as soon as she left the office and pick up every book they had on cancer. 

     “I’m afraid Dave’s growth is too big for surgery,” the doctor answered. “It’s too deeply rooted. We couldn’t get it all, even if we went in. But chemotherapy has done some really good things. You’ll be surprised. He won’t have an easy time of it, but we’ll do our best.”

     Victoria stood up and shook hands with the doctor. She didn’t know that the tears were pouring down her face; she felt nothing but an emptiness deep inside her. She had a million things to do and no idea where to start. But she would do whatever she had to do.

     In the car on the way to the library, she snapped on the radio, hardly knowing what she was doing. “Here it is again,” the bright-voiced DJ announced. “It’s ‘Wrapped in Gauze’, the remake, by the legendary GooseBumps, and everyone’s asking for it this week. Enjoy!”

     She didn’t know when the song began that she was singing along with it. She had no idea how she got from the doctor’s office to the library. But she did know that when she pulled into the tree-shaded parking lot ten minutes later, her voice was hoarse, she was almost blind with tears, and somehow, she felt a million percent better.

*     *     *

     Dave handled the news very well, though Victoria broke down, even as her friends tried to tell her it wasn’t good for Dave to see her like this. She tried to apologize to him, choking on her tears, and Dave put his arms around her and said, “It’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry.”

     That made her cry harder. 

     Michael was speechless and almost as upset as she was. He hadn’t hugged his brother since Dave learned to walk and started annoying him, but he wrapped Dave in his long bony arms and hugged him until Dave pulled away.

     Long after Dave went to sleep, she sat with Michael in their little kitchen. The size of it no longer mattered. The fact that it never got the morning sun and was often gloomy no longer mattered. The old wallpaper she wanted to replace but couldn’t afford to replace no longer mattered. Suddenly, every problem she’d ever had narrowed to one: Dave.

     “He’ll be all right, Mom,” Michael said to her. He was patting her hand while she tried to drink a mug of hot coffee, but she kept spilling it out of the mug. She wanted to fix him a sandwich or something to eat, but he said he couldn’t swallow anything. He looked pale and suddenly much older, though he was only three years older than Dave. She found herself praying that he would never get sick like this. It couldn’t happen twice in one family, could it?

     She hoped the stack of books she’d checked out of the library had answers. She hoped someone had answers.

     She’d had a terrible conversation with her ex that afternoon, before Dave came home from school. At first, he was mad at her for calling his office, as usual; he never liked her to call the office, even when they were married. Then he was heartsick at the news. He asked her repeatedly if she shouldn’t get a second opinion. She explained that the tests had already been done twice. He told her he wanted to bring in another specialist. Exhausted, finally, she told him to consult whomever he liked; she was starting treatment with Dave at once, and he’d better be sure the insurance was up to date.

     “I don’t care what it costs,” she told him. “Don’t bother me with that. I’ll spend whatever I have to. Nothing matters except getting him well. So don’t even think about cheaping out here, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

     Dave, the ebullient twelve-year-old who rode his bike too fast, played basketball every day, in season or out, and had a crush on a girl in his history class, charmed all the nurses at the hospital.  He wasn’t too sick to joke with them, and they adored him, bringing extra portions of the soup that was the only food he could keep down, and making excuses to slip into his room to say hello when he was awake.

 

About the Author
 
SUSAN SLOATE

 SUSAN SLOATE is the author or co-author of
more than 25 published books. This includes 3 editions of Forward to Camelot,
a time-travel thriller about the JFK assassination that became a #6 Amazon
bestseller, was honored in 3 literary competitions and was optioned by a
Hollywood company for film production. She also wrote the autobiographical
Broadway novel Stealing Fire, which became a #2 Amazon bestseller and Hot New
Release, and Realizing You (with Ron Doades), for which she invented a new
genre: the self-help novel.

Susan has also written young-adult fiction
and non-fiction, including the children’s biography Ray Charles: Find
Another Way, which won the silver medal in the 2007 Children’s Moonbeam
Awards. Mysteries Unwrapped: The Secrets of Alcatraz led to her 2009
appearance on the TV series MysteryQuest for The History Channel. She has also
been a sportswriter and a screenwriter, edited the popular Kyle & Corey
young-adult book series, managed two political campaigns and founded an
author’s festival to promote student literacy in her hometown outside
Charleston, SC. She has appeared in multiple volumes of WHO’S WHO IN
AMERICA, WHO’S WHO IN ENTERTAINMENT and WHO’S WHO AMONG AMERICAN
WOMEN.

Contact Links
Twitter: @Susan_Sloate

 

 

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

2 Comments

Filed under Book Tour