Category Archives: BOOKS

The Inspector’s Daughter and the Maid Blitz

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Women’s fiction, Historical romance fiction

Date Published: August 30, 2022

 

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The Inspector’s Daughter and The Maid is a moving and delightful blend of
historical and speculative romance fiction.

The foundations of traditional structures reveal themselves to be no longer
stone, but sand, and in the hearts of the Inspector’s Daughter and the Maid
some natural ease gets broken, and their trust in a promising future loses
its innocence
.

In the severance of winds, beyond their wildest dreams, possibilities are
awakened
.

Which one will win the heart of the wealthy merchant’s son – the Music
Teacher?

 

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Excerpt

It’s the city of Delft, the capital of the Dutch Republic, sometime
in the mid-17th century. Nowhere in Delft is far from water. It’s a
small city of canals, overflowing with humanity that ripples over a few
acres and out the city gates into the low-lying farmland and to Oospoort,
the city’s opening to the North Sea and to the world. To place it, a
brisk morning’s walk will get you north to Hague, the centre of the
Netherland’s government and courts. It’s a carriage ride to
Amsterdam. The Reformation and a changed Christian practice may have been
the instigator. But the foundations of traditional structures, of not only
religion, but consequently, also of community and family, revealed
themselves to be no longer stone, but sand. If this crumbling and the
confusion it caused wasn’t happening, the Inspector’s Daughter
and the Maid’s story may never have been told. The society, however,
was not infrangible, and these juffrouwen were ripe. The social changes that
were birthing, sprung from mindfulness towards humanity. Small incremental
steps. No giant leaps. That’s what was best for the greater good.
Seeds that consequence stories can be planted by previous generations, and,
indeed, such is the case here. The mother of one of the girls was the
progenitor. Thus, the story begins with he r.

 

About the Author

Marlene Cheng

Marlene Cheng is a Maincrest Media and a Book Excellence award-winning
author of women’s fiction. Her books are about the relationships that define
women’s lives–romance, friendship, and family. Marlene is a keen observer
of how people think and feel, and she writes lyrical, uplifting, and
emotionally rich stories.

What is being said: “Today’s best up-and-coming fiction
writer.”–Publishers Daily Reviews. “Marlene writes with great
facility. Her writing is intelligent: her prose is poetic.”–Dr. David
Yeung MBBS FRCPC (certified psychiatrist). “A fantastic journey that
takes readers to the innermost corners of the human heart.”–Reader’s
Favorites.

Marlene was prairie-born, farm-raised, and now lives among the old-growth
pine and cedar, overlooking the Pacific Ocean on the West Coast of
Canada

 

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Action for Jesus Tour

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Spiritual Self-Help, Motivational Self-Help

Date Published: January 31, 2022

 

Too often do we stray down the path that is not meant for us, never
realizing that God and Jesus are waiting right there for us to be guided
back into the light- the path we are truly meant for.

 

This book is a story of enlightenment, understanding, and devoting yourself
to God to help transform your life for the better. It entails a riveting
look at the real-life story of Janet Williams, who was led to the light by
God following a series of life-altering events. Find out how God implements
his plans without us even realizing it and makes our lives the best they can
possibly be, and how to commit yourself truly to the word of Jesus Christ,
our Lord and saviour.

 

Action for Jesus tablet

EXCERPT

Prologue 

This book is centered around the story of my life and how it was enriched and enhanced for the better the moment that I accepted Christ in my heart and understood what he was trying to teach me. 

Many of us face hardships, poor choices, and issues in our lives. However, I was able to understand that these problems that I came face to face with were meant to teach me a lesson. This lesson was something that many people do not realize throughout their entire lives, and sometimes even leave this Earth without realizing. This lesson is something that is most precious and cannot be taught to anyone unless they go through the experiences necessary to acquire said understanding. I myself went through various trials in order to fully comprehend what God and Jesus were trying to communicate to me, but when I realized what it was, everything slowly but surely began to make sense. 

Here was the penultimate lesson: that I was not following the path in life that was meant for me. Of course, there were various indicators throughout my life that should have made me realize this, and they were all put there by the divine providence of God. Soon after I made this realization, it was hard for me to understand how others could not see the very same. So, this book serves as a sign for you to take a long, hard look at your own life and see if it is truly going where you think it is meant to go. 

When you completely give your life to God, it becomes His responsibility to take care of you in every element of your life, even securing the next new position that He wants you to accept. 

There is no aspect or element in your existence that God will not willingly assist you with, no matter how minor or insignificant you believe it is. 

In the Bible, the Holy Spirit is referred to as “the Helper.” It is now His responsibility to assist you in every aspect of your life where you will require His assistance. 

Here’s what you’ll need to focus on in your own special relationship with the Lord. Now that you’re walking in God’s perfect will for your life, He’ll be the one to totally guide you into whatever professions He wants you to have going forward. You don’t have a choice anymore! 

God now has a flawless grand design and future in place for your life, and He will be the one to lead you every step of the way to seeing that divine plan come to fruition! 

What precise jobs you do today will have a significant impact on your religious improvement and advancement with the Lord. The jobs you’ll be doing today will be building bricks that will bring you to whatever His exact purpose and destiny for your life is. 

You’re now on a different journey, where the parameters have shifted somewhat in your favor. 

This implies that if you go on a job interview and don’t get the job, it’s because God didn’t want you to have the position in the first place, and He was the one who blocked you from receiving it in order to save you from going down the wrong road. 

So, if you keep getting turned down after multiple interviews, don’t think of yourself as a failure. Consider the fact that these were occupations that God did not choose for you to have in the first place and that He was the one intervening to ensure that you did not wind yourself in the incorrect ones. 

Remember, God has indeed set up and plotted out your next new work for you. All you have to do now is wait for it to come to you at His appointed time! 

Waiting might be exhausting, yet it is through this process that God cultivates the fruit of perseverance and trust in your personality. You just must have complete conviction and trust and believe that God now has absolute control over your life and will deliver you the appropriate employment at the right time. 

Not only does God have a predetermined plan and a predetermined destiny for your life, but He also has a predetermined timeline in which all of these intentions will be realized. 

You must learn to be patient throughout these intervals of waiting. I myself went through the same in my life and often felt dejected and unmotivated until I came to look at these occurrences in a positive light, realizing they were meant to bring me to the path meant for me. 

Through this Christian book, I mean to pass on everything I have learned, practiced, and was made aware of. I hope these lessons help you as much as they helped me. 

 

About the Author

Janet Williams

Janet Williams was in an automobile accident and is now a personal trainer
and author of “Actions for Jesus’s Help.” Janet wants
everybody to know of the experiences she has had and all of her belief in
everything that He has done to get actions for Jesus’s help. Janet has
a heart that wills strongly to help others and wants everybody who reads
this book to embody it within their spirit. Follow the inspiring story of
personal trainer Janet Williams from her childhood in New Orleans through a
challenging faith journey and tragic loss to a new life and healing.

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The Silent Count Virtual Book Tour

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Thriller, Climate Change Fiction

Date Published: July 19, 2022

Publisher: Solstice Publishing

She’s determined to stop climate change before it’s too
late…

Nuclear engineer Dara Bouldin’s life is a mess. She’s paying
off her dad’s gambling debts, reeling from a broken engagement, and
practically invisible at the energy research agency where she works.
Meanwhile, her ex Jericho’s latest single is racing up the charts and
her handsome new colleague Dmitri is friendly with everyone but her.

All around them, wildfires, floods, and other natural disasters have become
the norm. But Dara has an audacious plan to reverse climate change, if only
someone would listen.

Little does she know, someone at the CIA has been paying attention. And
when the public demands action, Dara gets the chance to turn her dream into
reality, with the blessings of Congress and the President. Things are
looking up.

That is until she discovers a secret that thrusts her into the center of a
global conflict that could rewrite history, in dire ways she never intended.
Things are going to change, big time. And the countdown has already
begun.

Be careful what you wish for, Dara.

 

The Silent Count tablet

EXCERPT

T-minus Ten 

 

“Some said the world would end in fire. Others said it would end in ice. We know better now.” 

Brigadier 

General 

Alexander 

Fallsworth 

acknowledged his audience in the windowless room lit with PowerPoint slides and the words ‘Top Secret-SCI’ (for 

‘Sensitive Compartmented Information’) in red LED letters on each wall. His presentation to the Intergovernmental Committee on Climate Affairs beamed from a laptop that normally resided in a padlocked Class 6 file cabinet. Both the cabinet and the computer were nearing capacity. 

The meeting participants had come to CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, from several other agencies — the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Department of Defense, the Environmental Protection Agency, the Department of Energy. They gathered around a large conference table, all furrowed brows, crossed arms and pointed features. 

Alexander, silver-blue irises shifting,  felt adrenaline course through him as words shot past his tongue. 

“Colleagues, the world hasn’t ended at all. It’s left us the task of dealing with the consequences. That’s why I’ve gathered you here today. I’d like to talk about Project Plowshares.” 

A few in the audience fidgeted, coughed. 

Afghanistan was a walk in the park compared to an afternoon with this crowd.  He pressed on, quoting from the Bible’s Book of Isaiah: “‘…they shall… beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up their sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.’” 

The PowerPoint transmitted a video of a nuclear explosion, ending in a mushroom cloud of fission products. 

Pacing himself with a few sips of water, Alexander delved into the history of the program. 

Most of the audience members had been students of nuclear history at one time or other, so they were familiar with Project Plowshares, at least the version of the program envisioned during the Cold War era. Alexander explained that Plowshares resulted after President Eisenhower’s 

‘Atoms for Peace’ speech before the United Nations in 1953, when the president said of the atomic bomb, “It is not enough to take this weapon out of the hands of the soldiers. 

It must be put into the hands of those who will know how to strip its military casing and adapt it to the arts of peace.” 

He took a breath, hoping his listeners couldn’t see the perspiration beading where his blond crew cut ended and his forehead began. “The brass at the U.S. Atomic Energy Agency took the Atoms for Peace ball and ran with it, funding programs to find peaceful uses for atomic bombs. Beyond the obvious nuclear energy applications, Plowshares included large-scale civil engineering projects that harnessed the power of nuclear explosives.” He advanced to the next slide, willing himself to keep talking. 

“The Soviets ran a similar ‘peaceful uses’ program during the Cold War era. Some would argue that India was able to develop atomic weapons due to this program by exploiting gaps in the Treaty on Nuclear Non-Proliferation, since it originally referenced ‘nuclear weapons’ rather than 

‘nuclear explosives,’ as it does today. We’re aware that India consulted with the Russians on using nuclear explosives to create artificial lakes. Unlike us, the Soviets actually tested and implemented infrastructure projects under their version of Plowshares, including a dam in Kazakhstan. 

“Now here’s a blast from the past for many of you,” 

Alexander said, stifling a chuckle as he drew circles on the next slide with his laser pointer. “Nearly every undergraduate nuclear engineering student in the United States uses the classic textbook Introduction to Nuclear Engineering, by the late John Lamarsh. Perhaps you remember this book from your college days. Early editions of the book contained the following excerpt: 

‘…there are a number of ways in which nuclear explosives may be used for peaceful purposes…natural gas trapped in underground formations can be released by the detonation of a nuclear explosive…New harbors, canals, and mountain passes can be excavated with nuclear explosives at a fraction of the cost of conventional methods.’” 

He paused, looked around the table, and clicked to the next slide that contained the rest of the Lamarsh quote: 

“‘It should even be possible to alter unfavorable weather patterns in many parts of the world by removing mountain ranges which obstruct the flow of air.’” 

Alexander swallowed, his mouth dry. “Do we have any questions so far?” 

One of the meeting participants, a man in a U.S. Air Force uniform,  spoke up. “General Fallsworth, what are you suggesting?” 

Alexander attempted to modulate his breathing, which grew at a clip to keep up with his heart rate. “I’m proposing what Lamarsh said was possible, the one thing no one has tried. I propose that we use nuclear explosives to eliminate targeted mountain ranges in order to reposition the Jet Stream, create more favorable weather patterns and heat sinks, and reverse the impacts of climate change.” 

Silence and stillness now. Every eye in the room bored through him. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to speak plainly. Fire, drought, floods, and extreme weather have rendered swaths of our country uninhabitable and burdened other areas due to countless citizens who’ve been displaced. Agriculture is in ruins, insurance premiums have skyrocketed, and the chasm between rich and poor continues to grow. Besides the obvious financial impacts, these problems threaten our national security. Our enemies are well aware of our weaknesses, and, domestically, civil unrest is on the rise. Worst of all, people have died.” 

Alexander’s voice caught in his throat. “Thousands of people have died,” he continued, “and all we have done is react.”   

He paused, pressing his lips together, then added, 

“This has gone on far too long. We carry on as if everything is fine, letting the years slip through our fingers. 

Well, time has run out for conventional methods, and now we must explore the desperate measures I’ve discussed. 

These measures could save us, not to mention future generations.” 

Moments later, a woman in the corner, eyes focused on the birch table’s grain, broke the silence. “Is this even legal?” she asked. 

“The U.S. never ratified the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, and we’re not planning to do anything outside our own territory. The general counsel reviewed my proposal and, technically, it’s completely legal.” 

She nodded, her tight expression easing. “I lost several family members when Cheniak flooded. My niece was only three months old when she…” The woman hesitated, adjusted her glasses. “…when she drowned. The water rose so fast, there was nothing anyone could do.” 

The representative from the Joint Chiefs of Staff piped up. “What do you recommend as a path forward?” 

Alexander felt his shoulders lighten. Steady, Fallsworth, he said to himself. “I plan to reach out to the Chair of the Nuclear Engineering Department at Chambers University. One of her Ph.D. students, the ‘Bouldin, D.’ on the journal articles I’ve handed out, developed software that simulates nuclear detonations and removal of geological obstructions for geo-engineering purposes. The dissertation examines how technical parameters related to nuclear explosions can impact weather patterns and long-term climate outcomes. As far as I can tell, a model already exists and would only need to be adapted and beta-tested, then implemented.” 

The committee members exchanged looks across the table. “What about radioactive fallout?” asked the woman from the Department of Energy. 

“We can conduct the detonations underground,” 

replied Alexander, his voice firm. 

Then the man in the Air Force uniform spoke for the group. “I think we owe it to ourselves and our nation to at least consider geo-engineering as a way out of our difficulties. Let’s think about it. If we agree, authorizing a black fund shouldn’t be hard.”  

Alexander studied the participants, mentally beseeching each one to please, please accept the proposal. 

Thank them for their time, Fallsworth. You’ve got this.  

It was all he could do to keep from calling out, “So who’s with me?” 

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Someone Knows Blitz

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Thriller

Date Published: 7/1/2022

Publisher: Acorn Publishing LLC

 

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Meet Jason Vincent, a good man doing a bad thing. A school principal, he
has allowed himself to slip into an affair with one of his teachers. Now,
haunted by guilt, he decides to end it and get back to being the husband his
wife deserves. But this is only the beginning of Jason’s problem. It
seems that his secret wasn’t a secret after all. Someone knows what
he’s been up to and that someone is ready to make him pay. Jason has
gotten to know guilt. Now he is going to meet terror.

About the Author

 Mark Atteberry

 Mark Atteberry’s life has been spent working with words. He has been
a teacher, counselor, and speaker; high-impact roles where every word
matters. In 2020, Mark retired and devoted himself fully to writing. While
still penning his own books, he has dedicated the majority of his time to
ghostwriting. His body of work now sits at fourteen books, including the
multiple award-winning suspense novel, Dream. Currently, Mark lives in
Florida with his wife, Marilyn.

 

 

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The Shade Under the Mango Tree Blitz

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Literary, Contemporary Fiction, Multicultural

 

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Gold Medal, Contemporary Fiction, 2021 Global Book Awards (formerly New
York City Book Awards)

Finalist, 2021 SPR (Self Publishing Review) Book Awards

Finalist, Multicultural Fiction, 2021 International Book Awards

 

After two heartbreaking losses, Luna wants adventure. Something and
somewhere very different from the affluent, sheltered home where she grew
up. An adventure in which she can make some difference.

Lucien, a worldly, well-traveled young architect, finds a stranger’s
journal at a café. He has qualms and pangs of guilt about reading it.
But they don’t stop him. His decision to go on reading changes his
life.

Meeting later at a bookstore, Luna is fascinated by Lucien’s stories and
adventurous spirit. She goes to a rice-growing village in a country steeped
in an ancient culture and a deadly history. What she finds there defies
anything she could have imagined. Will she leave this world unscathed?

An epistolary tale of courage, resilience, and the bonds that bring diverse
people together.

 

The Shade Under the Mango Tree standing book

Excerpt

Prologue

Luna: February, 2016

 

Ov’s thin upper body is slumped over his crossed legs, his forehead
resting on the platform. His brown, wiry arms lie limp, the right one
extended forward, hand dangling over the edge of the platform. Dried blood
is splattered on his head, and on the collar, right shoulder, and back of
his old short-sleeved white shirt.

It seems fitting that he died where he used to spend most of his time when
he wasn’t on the rice fields—sitting on a corner of the bamboo
platform in the ceiling-high open space under the house. It’s where
you get refreshing breezes most afternoons, after a long day of work.

The policeman looks down at Ov’s body as if he’s unsure what to
do next. He lays down his camera and the gun in a plastic bag at one end of
the platform untainted by splatters of gelled blood.

He steps closer to the body, anchors himself with one knee on top of the
platform, and bends over the body. Hooking his arms underneath Ov’s
shoulders and upper arms, he pulls the body up, and carefully lays it on its
back. He straightens the legs.

He steps off the platform. Stands still for a few seconds to catch his
breath. He turns to us and says, “It’s clear what has happened.
I have all the pictures I need.”

 He points to his camera, maybe to make sure we understand. We have
watched him in silence, three zombies still in shock. Me, standing across
the bamboo platform from him. Mae and Jorani sitting, tense and quiet, on
the hammock to my left.

Is that it? Done already? I want to ask him: Will he have the body taken
away for an autopsy? I suppose that’s what is routinely done
everywhere in cases like this. But I don’t know enough Khmer.

As if he sensed my unspoken question, he glances at me. A quick glance that
comes with a frown. He seems perplexed and chooses to ignore me.

He addresses the three of us, like a captain addressing his troop.
“You can clean up.”

The lingering frown on his brow softens into sympathy. He’s gazing at
Jorani, whose mournful eyes remain downcast. He looks away and turns toward
Mae. Pressing his hands together, he bows to her. A deeper one than the
first he gave her when she and Jorani arrived.

He utters Khmer words too many and too fast for me to understand. From the
furrowed brow and the look in his eyes, I assume they are words of sympathy.
He bows a third time, and turns to go back to where he placed the gun and
camera. He picks them up and walks away.

For a moment or two, I stare at the figure of the policeman walking away.
Then I turn to Jorani. Call him back. Don’t we have questions? I can
ask and you can translate, if you prefer.
But seeing her and Mae sitting as
still and silent as rocks, hands on their laps, and eyes glazed as if to
block out what’s in front of them, the words get trapped in my brain.
Their bodies, rigid just moments before, have gone slack, as if to say: What
else can anyone do? What’s done cannot be undone. All that’s
left is to clean up, as the policeman said. Get on with our lives.

My gaze wanders again toward the receding figure of the policeman on the
dirt road, the plastic bag with the gun dangling in his right hand. Does it
really matter how Cambodian police handles Ov’s suicide? I witnessed
it. I know the facts. And didn’t I read a while back how Buddhism
frowns upon violations on the human body? The family might object against
cutting up Ov—the way I’ve seen on TV crime shows—just to
declare with certainty what caused his death.

I take in a long breath. I have done all I can and must defer to Cambodian
beliefs and customs.

But I can’t let it go yet. Ov chose to end his life in a violent way
and I’m curious: Do the agonies of his last moments show on his face?
I steal another look.

All I could gather, from where I stand, is life has definitely gone out of
every part of him. His eyes are closed and immobile. The tic on his
inanimate cheeks hasn’t left a trace. The tic that many times was the
only way I could tell he had feelings. Feelings he tried to control or hide.
Now, his face is just an expressionless brown mask. Maybe everyone really
has a spirit, a soul that rises out of the body when one dies, leaving a
mansize mass of clay.

I stare at Ov’s body, lying in a darkened, dried pool of his own
blood, bits of his skull and brain scattered next to his feet where his head
had been. At that moment, it hits me that this would be the image of Ov I
will always remember. I shudder.

My legs begin to buckle underneath me and I turn around, regretting that
last look. With outstretched hands, I take a step toward the hammock. Jorani
rises to grab my hands, and she helps me sit down next to Mae.

Could I ever forget? Could Mae and Jorani? Would the image of Ov in a pool
of blood linger in their memories like it would in mine?

I know I could never tell my parents what happened here this afternoon. But
could I tell Lucien? The terrible shock of watching someone, in whose home I
found a family, fire a gun to his head? And the almost as horrifying
realization—looking back—that I knew what he was going to do,
but I hesitated for a few seconds to stop him.

 

About the Author

Evy Journey

Evy Journey writes. Stories. Blogs (three sites). Cross-genre novels.
She’s also a wannabe artist, and a flâneuse (an ambler).

Evy studied psychology ( Ph.D. University of Illinois) initially to help
her understand herself and Dostoevsky. Now, she spins tales about
multicultural characters dealing with the problems and issues of
contemporary life. She believes in love and its many faces.

Just as she has crossed genres in writing fiction, she has also crossed
cultures, having lived and traveled in various cities in different
countries. Find her thoughts on travel, art, and food at Artsy Rambler
(https://eveonalimb2.com).

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