The Moon Hunters Tour

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Science Fiction/Dystopian Fiction/Post-Apocalyptic Fiction
Date Published: 9/5/19
Publisher: Chandra Press
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For fans of The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Gender Game comes a captivating new story like no other.
The Pestilence sweeps the globe with terrifying speed. A group of survivors finds an island sanctuary.
Three generations later, no one has heard from the outside world in years. The old radio only crackles with static. The Pestilence either finished its job or the world tore itself apart.
In the Village of Lehom, Leilani has been called to court as a Virtue by the King. Going to court means losing her independence and self-respect. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have a choice.
Leilani decides to take a stand; the King be damned. She plans a daring escape and sets in motion a series of events that will shake the foundation of her village and the island to its core.
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Excerpt

To whoever may read this, in case of our deaths, please send food, seeds, and cattle to Ani Island. Nearly a thousand lives are at stake. Although I don’t know how to direct you the island with coordinates, I hope the following details, as well as my descriptions of our villages, will help you find it. My island home is about three miles long and a mile at its widest point. It’s a verdant shade of green from the beaches that form most of its perimeter to the mountain that rises up sharply from the shore about a quarter of a mile from the waves. At the bases of the island’s waterfalls that bisect the green and black craggy cliffs, freshwater pools smell faintly of the nearby hibiscus flowers. Next to the sea caves of Gaiae, there’s a chink in the mountain, a cleft that regresses back from the beach we departed from. The waterfall in the center of this crevasse got smaller as the boat carried us further out to sea. As the crashing of waves on the shore became quieter, my home departed into a misty dreamscape as it often does when the rain clouds descend and conceal it.

Most importantly, the island is far away from any of the world’s mainlands. Isolation breeds health. Congestion breeds death. I used to accept these laws without question. We had what we needed. We measured time by the sun’s progress across the sky, the sea’s tides, the moon, a sundial in the center of the village, and moments of work, singing, and, more infrequently, laughter. We also used a calendar that Samsara had created when she established Gaiae, one more appropriate for us than the Old World’s. As I grew older, however, I realized the Old World utterly haunted us. Its rhythms still guided our thoughts and actions even if we believed we moved in deliberate opposition to them. People marveled at its inventions, things we didn’t have. The problem was, anyone who attempted to leave the island would break our most serious law. The penalty for that was death.

About the Author

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Anya Pavelle was born in Massachusetts but eventually settled in Florida, where she currently lives with her husband and dog. She’s a trained art historian who sees the quiet beauty in nature, art, and literature. Anya has been imagining new worlds since she was six years old and like many morbidly curious people, she’s obsessed with dystopian literature. The Moon Hunters is her first foray into science fiction. She’s currently working on the sequel and also plans on writing a prequel. In addition to writing, Anya loves traveling the world, SCUBA diving, relaxing with her friends and family, and finally, curling up with a new book and a glass of wine on a moon-lit humid night.
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The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae by Stephanie Butland Blog Tour

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The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae by Stephanie Butland

Description:
For fans of Josie Silver’s One Day in December, The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae is a wholly original, charismatic, and uplifting novel that no reader will soon forget.
Ailsa Rae is learning how to live. She’s only a few months past the heart transplant that—just in time—saved her life. Now, finally, she can be a normal twenty-eight-year-old. She can climb a mountain. Dance. Wait in line all day for tickets to Wimbledon.
But first, she has to put one foot in front of the other. So far, things are as bloody complicated as ever. Her relationship with her mother is at a breaking point and she wants to find her father. Then there’s Lennox, whom Ailsa loved and lost. Will she ever find love again?
Her new heart is a bold heart. She just needs to learn to listen to it. From the hospital to her childhood home, on social media and IRL, Ailsa will embark on a journey about what it means to be, and feel, alive. How do we learn to be brave, to accept defeat, to dare to dream?
From Stephanie Butland, author of The Lost for Words Bookshop, The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae will warm you from the inside out.

EXCERPT

6 October, 2017

 

Hard to Bear

 

It’s 3 a.m. here in cardio-thoracic.

All I can do for now is doze, and think, and doze again. My heart is getting weaker, my body bluer. People I haven’t seen for a while are starting to drop in. (Good to see you, Emily, Jacob, Christa. I’m looking forward to the Martinis.) We all pretend we’re not getting ready to say goodbye. It seems easiest. But my mother cries when she thinks I’m sleeping, so maybe here, now, is time to admit that I might really be on the way out.

I should be grateful. A baby born with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome a few years before I was would have died within days. I’ve had twenty-eight years and I’ve managed to do quite a lot of living in them. (Also, I’ve had WAY more operations than you everyday folk. I totally win on that.) OK, so I still live at home and I’ve never had a job and I’m blue around the edges because there’s never quite enough oxygen in my system. But –

Actually, but nothing. If you’re here tonight for the usual BlueHeart cheerfulness-in-the-teeth-of-disaster, you need to nd another blogger.

My heart is failing. I imagine I can feel it oundering in my chest. Sometimes it’s as though I’m holding my breath, waiting to see if another beat will come. I’ve been

 

in hospital for four months, almost non-stop, because it’s no longer tenable for me to be at home. I’m on a drip pumping electrolytes into my blood and I’ve an oxygen tube taped to my face. I’m constantly cared for by peo- ple who are trying to keep me well enough to receive a transplanted heart if one shows up. I monitor every

icker and echo of pain or tiredness in my body and try to work out if it means that things are getting worse. And yes, I’m alive, and yes, I could still be saved, but tonight it’s a struggle to  think that being saved is possible. Or even likely. And I’m not sure I have the energy to keep waiting.

And I should be angrier, but there’s no room for anger (remember, my heart is a chamber smaller than yours) because, tonight, I’m scared.

It’s only a question of time until I get too weak to sur- vive a transplant, and then it’s a waste of a heart to give it to me. Someone a bit tter, and who would get more use from it, will bump me from the top of the list and I’m into the Palliative Care Zone. (It’s not actually called that. And it’s a good, kind, caring place, but it’s not where I want to be. Maybe when I’m ninety-eight. To be honest, tonight, I’d take forty-eight. Anything but twenty-eight.)

I hope I feel more optimistic when the sun comes up. If it does. It’s Edinburgh. It’s October. The odds are about the same as me getting a new heart.

My mother doesn’t worry about odds. She says, ‘We only need the one heart. Just the one.’ She says it in a way that makes me think that when she leaves the ward she’s away to carve one out of some poor stranger’s

 

body herself. And anyway, odds feel strange, because even if my survival chances are, say, 20 per cent, what- ever happens to me will happen 100 per cent. As in, I could be 100 per cent dead this time next week.

Night night, BlueHeart xxx

 

P.S. I would really, really like for one of you to get your- self a couple of goldsh, or kittens, or puppies, or even horses, and call them Cardio and Thoracic. My prefer- ence would be for puppies. Because I love the thought that, if I don’t make it to Christmas, somewhere there will be someone walking in the winter countryside, let- ting their enthusiastic wee spaniels off the  lead, and then howling ‘Cardio! Thoracic!’ as they disappear over the brow of a hill intent on catching some poor terried sheep. That’s what I call a legacy.

From The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae by Stephanie Butland. Copyright © 2019 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.

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Author Bio:
STEPHANIE BUTLAND lives with her family near the sea in the North East of England. She writes in a studio at the bottom of her garden, and when she’s not writing, she trains people to think more creatively. For fun, she reads, knits, sews, bakes, and spins. She is an occasional performance poet and the author of The Lost for Words Bookshop.

Book-buy link: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250242174

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Gardenia Duty Blitz

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Women’s Fiction, Military
Published: June 2019
Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
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In 1957 jobs are scarce in rural Ashland, Alabama. Bobby Higgins is facing life decisions; his family’s farm struggles and threat of the draft hangs over 18-year-old males as the Cold War rumbles in the distance. Bobby heads off to boot camp, vowing to provide for his family from his pay. Between shore and sea duty, Bobby leaves broken hearts in every port.
When his own heart is stolen by Rose, he’s shocked to learn that she comes with four daughters, a package deal he’s unsure he wants. But when Rose disappears, Bobby finds her and persuades her to marry him. Somehow they navigate their way through the trials of marriage and parenting as he fulfills his patriotic career and his promise to raise four willful daughters.
In the spring of 2004, his daughters are brought together by grief. They forge new bonds, sharing their joys, losses, regrets, and ultimately family secrets that will seal all their fates…if they can summon the courage to report for duty.
 Excerpt
October, 1980
She stared at the venetian blinds, blurred by tears,
gripping the hospital bed rails. They should have
been tears of joy. Her family should have been standing
in the sparsely furnished room. Should have, would
have, could have.
Suck it up, cupcake, she thought. She knew this day
would come. She had to think about what was best for…
for him. And once she had finally decided, even the excitement
of her budding career had been overshadowed. She
scanned the room through the blur, now void of the nurse
who had taken pity on her solitude. The never-ending
loop of self-recrimination flooded her brain yet again.
Funny, she thought she’d be over it by now, that somehow
the loop would be flushed—like afterbirth.
How could she have been so careless? Why hadn’t she
focused on school instead of letting herself be attracted to
Larry’s blue eyes? With that twinkle and his boyish grin,
he had relentlessly worked his way into her heart on a
girls’ night out. Eventually, walks on the beach, romantic
dinners and line dancing at The Lazy B. If she had known
his orders were only five months away, would she have
continued the romance? She didn’t let just anyone in. She
was the Master of Unavailable and The Life of the Party.
But Larry had pulled her off center and made her laugh.
She thought he’d bore her. She thought she’d grow tired
of him. But no. Damn you, Larry. The aching memories
made this day that much more difficult.
There was a knock on the thick blonde door. “Dinner
time,” the nurse said. She stared at the tray as the nurse
gently placed it on the table. She peeked under the lid and
was hit with the aroma of chicken and broccoli. Typical
hospital menu; something from all the food groups.
“Does the chef suggest a wine pairing?” she smiled
weakly. Her nurse smiled back and checked the IV bag.
There was iced tea and a little carton of milk on the fiberglass
tray, the same type served up in school when her
biggest decisions were made on a playground, or when
sneaking a cigarette on the senior lawn behind the huge
live oak.
“When can I shower?” she asked, poking at the
mashed potatoes.
“After this bag runs out I’ll take out the IV.”
Her nurse’s deep blue scrubs were adorned by a shiny
chrome stethoscope. “Can I do anything else?” Her eyes
betrayed the facade of pity for her situation. This may
have been her first rodeo, but the nurse had seen too many
of her situations. “No, I’m good. Well, not good. I mean,
you’ve been wonderful,” she fumbled.
The nurse walked back to the door, patting her feet
with a soft hand on the way. She felt the tears welling
again. How she needed her sisters. But, no one could
know. She needed to get back on track at work and put
this behind her. How the hell do you put something like this
behind you, she thought to herself. She suspected it would
always haunt her. “Please, God, give me the peace I need. I
hope you know I’m not heartless. This is for his future. I’m
still a kid.”
There was another knock on the door. As the couple
entered the room, he was carrying a fast-food bag, Taco
Bell. She carried flowers. It had to be as awkward for them
as it was for her. “You’re a lifesaver! I hope there are tacos
in that bag,” she said, with as much bravado as she could
muster. But she knew there was a deeper meaning to the
first part of her comment.
“Did y’all finally decide on his name?” she asked.
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About the Author

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Kathleen Varn’s love affair with words manifested when she turned four and taught herself to read. As she grew older, books and reading were an escape from responsibility. Eventually, Kathleen dove into journaling, which helped her find solace in the grief of a toxic relationship. Kathleen is now very happily married to her soulmate. She resides in Charleston, South Carolina, where she worked for an adoption attorney for twenty-three years. Her first novel, Ameera Unveiled, released in 2013. Gardenia Duty is her second novel.       
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Hopelessly Devoted Box Set by Gen Ryan – Blitz

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Hopelessly Devoted Box Set

by Gen Ryan
Publication Date: October 11, 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

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Purchase: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Apple Books | Universal Link

Follow Rainey and Parker’s emotional and intense journeys as they discover sometimes letting go is the only way to find peace and happiness. Military romance with all the feels from bestselling author Gen Ryan.

When she fell in love with her high school sweetheart, Rainey Matthews thought it’d be forever. But life has a habit of sneaking up and throwing a sucker punch when you least expect it.

Parker’s military career has become his top priority, leaving Rainey behind while he pursues his dreams. A combination of Parker’s PTSD and his actions threaten to tear Rainey’s heart right open, and she can no longer keep it together.

As their lives twist and turn, both Rainey and Parker discover happiness will be an uphill battle. And love doesn’t always follow its original course.

The incredible Hopelessly Devoted series is available in a special anniversary edition box set for a limited time only, complete with a special note from the author.

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About Gen Ryan

Gen Ryan is an international best-selling author that spends her days as a forensic psychologist filling the minds of college students with everything they need to know to be good at their jobs. From profiling to interrogation and ending with her absolute favorite, serial killers. Her nights, however, are spent crafting stories that will tear a reader’s heart out and twist their minds at the same time.

She brings a unique twist to romance, a twist always rooted somewhere deep inside the character’s psyche.

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If the Creek Don’t Rise Blitz

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Southern Gothic, Short Stories
Publisher: Pen-L Publishing
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Church suppers and bingo nights.
Dreams of Mexico.
The shadowy world of thoroughbred horse racing.
If the Creek Don’t Rise is a collection of hard-used characters, tangled relationships, family angst, and fortitude.
Eighteen tales and six postcard vignettes, highlighted with original artwork, make this collection a skillful and moving exploration of the commonplace, the hidden, and the unforgettable.
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About the Author

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Nancy Hartney, a daughter of the South, writes about gritty characters and family angst from her native piney woods and sweat-filled hardscrabble farms. Additionally, she writes non-fiction for regional magazines and free-verse poetry.
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