Posted in ANTIHERO, Audio/Audible, Book Review, Complex Characters, My favorites, Psychological, Thriller

My Review: The Afton Morrison Series Complete & On Audible

The Afton Morrison Series

by Brent Jones

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CC72DA4B-2463-4062-9DB5-C10FCA2C4ABBTogether for the first time, experience all four books in The Afton Morrison Series as one complete serial novel.

Afton Morrison, twenty-six, is a small-town children’s librarian by day, on a murderous mission to make the world a better place by night. From the hunt for a violent sexual predator to the last stand against her tormentor, The Afton Morrison Series delves into a world of moral ambiguity, told in four thrilling parts:

· Go Home, Afton
· See You Soon, Afton
· Nice Try, Afton
· Time’s Up, Afton

Packed with suspense, grit, and action, The Afton Morrison Seriesdelivers audiences an unlikely heroine in the form of a disturbed vigilante murderess.

This edition also features a bonus short story, A Book With No Pictures, the first published title from author Brent Jones to have featured Afton Morrison as a character.

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PURCHASE HERE — AUTHORBRENTJONES.COM/

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Having read the entire Afton Morrison Collection, I was extremely excited to get my hands on the Audible version of it…

Well I can tell you I AM NOT DISAPPOINTED!! First I have to mention Kirstin James, she is INCREDIBLE!! I’m a singer, and I know about working your voice in and out of different keys. But WOW! What she does with her voice is mind boggling to me, it just blows me away!! She TOTALLY brought the characters that Brent wrote to life!! Afton, her character is important and she did her so perfectly! And OMG, Animus too!! I would plug my earbuds in at night sometimes and get so wrapped up in the story, that I ended up more than half the night. Bravo to her performance on every character!!

The entire Afton story. I love this story!! I love Afton and her messed up self. Her dark, twisted, murderous side and her loyal, caring, good hearted side. I’m an Afton FAN!! (Brent, we need T-Shirts or Mugs or something.) I love the whole Animus concept. And I love all the twist and turn and constant surprises. I wishes I could say more, because there’s a lot more I love. (OH, I love Twinkie!) But I don’t want to give too much away for new readers. But I will say that this is an AWESOME book, both to read and to listen to! Or do both, like me!!! 😂 I am really really hoping, FINGERS CROSSED, that there will be more Afton!! Maybe a spinoff, or something!!!

Highly Highly recommend this book if Psychological Thrillers are your thing!! I’m giving it as many stars as allowed, but it deserves stars upon stars upon stars!! You’re the best Brent, don’t stop writing!!

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D95698F3-96E6-4FE6-860A-FA8DD0671ADBFrom bad checks to bathroom graffiti, Brent Jones has always been drawn to writing. He won a national creative writing competition at the age of fourteen, although he can’t recall what the story was about. Seventeen years later, he gave up his career to pursue creative writing full-time.

Jones writes from his home in Fort Erie, Canada. He’s happily married, a bearded cyclist, a mediocre guitarist, and the proud owner of two dogs with a God complex. Subscribe to his newsletter (AuthorBrentJones.com) or follow him on social media (@AuthorBrentJ) for updates.

 

Posted in ANTIHERO, Book Review, Complex Characters, My favorites, Psychological, Serial, Short Stories, Thriller

My Review: Time’s Up, Afton by Brent Jones

Time’s Up, Afton

The Afton Morrison Series #4

Brent Jones

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8F30E342-3666-4A77-AB7B-8F4C68D1F2F0Some secrets stay buried for a lifetime, but nothing lasts forever.

Connected to a number of high-profile deaths, Afton finds herself not only under scrutiny from the chief of police, but damned in the court of public opinion, as well.

In the aftermath of the fiery assault on Wakefield, a low-level gang has infiltrated the town, flooding its streets with bad drugs, killing several teenagers. As Afton prepares for the final showdown with her tormentor, she marks each gang member as a target for elimination, in a methodical plan to gain the upper hand. What follows is a race against the clock that will keep readers guessing until the very last page, as Afton risks life and limb to fulfill her murderous mission of doing good in the world.

Time’s Up, Afton is the fourth and final part in a new serial thriller by author Brent Jones. Packed with grit and action, The Afton Morrison Series delves into a world of moral ambiguity, delivering audiences an unlikely heroine in the form of a disturbed vigilante murderess.

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AMAZON  | BARNES & NOBLE  | GOODREADS

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As this series came to a close, the bittersweet feeling of how do I say goodbye to Afton, came over me. I loved this series since it’s beginning , with Go Home, Afton. I could sit here and go through the entire series with you, but that will have to wait until another review….YES, I said another review! The series has ended, but Brent has released The complete Afton Morrison Series as a whole (instead of in parts). It is available through Amazon as of Monday, October 29th in Kindle format, Paperback and HOLYCOW…Audible!!!!! I want it all…EVERYTHING!!!! So, of course I will be doing a review on the completed set. Also, eventually on Audible.

Anyway….on to Time’s Up, Afton! Afton has gained so much as far as family and friends, people truly care about her. But now so much has been taken away. After the fiery assault on Wakefield, now a low-life gang has infiltrated the town and is dealing bad drugs to teenagers, that are killing them. Afton has reached her limit and she is allowing that inner killer to come out and become that antihero we all knew she was. I found it sad. I didn’t want to see Afton have to let that killer out, but she did. It was a part of her and eventually it was going to happen anyway. Using it to save Wakefield and those she cared about was at least the best way she could do it. I found myself disappointed at times, but understood things had to end up like they did.

The epilogue almost sent me over the edge. Oh Afton!!

5++ FIERY STARS!!! I highly, highly recommend this series!! Which you can now read, either by each part separately (books 1-4 kindle only) or as of October 29th the Complete Set as ONE (Kindle, Paperback, Audible). Whatever your preference!!! But I will say this, Brent Jones is an Amazing writer!!! His thought process is incredible!! Characters are SO INCREDIBLY WELL WRITTEN!!! His world building is WELL WRITTEN, EASY TO PICTURE AND FOLLOW!!! His books are edited BEAUTIFULLY, and I was reading the ARCs!!! He must have an AMAZING editor!!! So if you’re questioning the Author, DON’T!!! YOU WON’T BE SORRY!!! As for the story…it is a THRILLER…basically a PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER with an antihero, who talks to her Animus (which is the archetype of self, of the unconscious mind). Very intriguing, RIGHT? Yes, I thought so!! If this sounds right up your alley then I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT!!! Again 5++ FIERY STARS!!!

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D95698F3-96E6-4FE6-860A-FA8DD0671ADBFrom bad checks to bathroom graffiti, Brent Jones has always been drawn to writing. He won a national creative writing competition at the age of fourteen, although he can’t recall what the story was about. Seventeen years later, he gave up his career to pursue creative writing full-time.

Jones writes from his home in Fort Erie, Canada. He’s happily married, a bearded cyclist, a mediocre guitarist, and the proud owner of two dogs with a God complex. Subscribe to his newsletter (AuthorBrentJones.com) or follow him on social media (@AuthorBrentJ) for updates.
Website:
https://authorbrentjones.com
Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/AuthorBrentJ
Facebook:
https://m.facebook.com/AuthorBrentJ/
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/authorbrentj/
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Brent-Jones/e/B06WWLL557

Posted in Blog Tour, Novella, Serial, Thriller

Blog Tour: Go Home, Afton by Brent Jones

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BF3C3BDF-8C31-4427-8595-E6407A98348CGo Home, Afton
Author: Brent Jones
Length: Novella
Genre: Thriller
Series: Afton Morrison, Book 1
Release Date: June 25, 2018
Format: eBook
eBook Price: 99¢

Blurb:

We all wear masks, and Afton Morrison is no exception.

A small-town librarian with a dark side, Afton, twenty-six, has suppressed violent impulses her entire adult life. Impulses that demand she commit murder.

Blending her urges with reason, Afton stalks a known sexual predator, intending to kill him. But her plan, inspired by true crime and hatched with meticulous care, is interrupted by a mysterious figure from her past. A dangerous man that lurks in the shadows, watching, threatening to turn the huntress into the hunted.

Go Home, Afton is the first of four parts in a new serial thriller by author Brent Jones. Packed with grit and action, The Afton Morrison Series delves into a world of moral ambiguity, delivering audiences an unlikely heroine in the form of a disturbed vigilante murderess.


PURCHASE NOW:
AMAZON
BARNES & NOBLE
ITUNES
KOBO

MY REVIEW:
I’m so thrilled to tell you how much I loved this fabulous thriller!! Go Home, Afton is the first of four books in the Afton Morrison Series, a serial thriller with an antihero of sorts as the main character.

The Author, Brent Jones, WOW….I’m just completely blown away by his work!! He obviously put a lot into this serial thriller and it shows!!!! The characters are wonderful!!! The MC is a very complex character herself, but even many of the side characters are really well done!! I can’t wait to see more of them all in the next few books!! I’m a very character driven reader, and I just ate this right up!!

If thrillers are your thing, you will love this! It is a serial thriller, but I do know that he plans to release them pretty quickly. This one releases Monday, June 25th. Then the second one is August 7th, third is September 17th, and fourth is October 29th. In fact, Books two and three are already up on amazon for preorder!

Highly recommended, FIVE AMAZING STARS!!!!

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Excerpt: Go Home, Afton > Chapter 3 > Scene 2

Parents—stay-at-home moms, mostly—brought in their toddlers once a week so I could read them a story. And I use the word toddlers loosely. Kids as old as six or seven sometimes attended during the summer. And the stories we would read were made up of fewer than fifty words, for the most part. A lot of the mothers in Wakefield were too lazy to read to their own children, I guess.

Oh, and crafts, too. After reading a story together, we’d break out glitter and colored pencils and paste and other nonsense, but that wasn’t the real reason a dozen women turned out with their little monsters each week. Storytime was an excuse for the mothers to gather and gossip. It always took a little while to get the children to settle down, sure. I’d press my finger to my lips and wait. Five or ten seconds at most, although I would have been happy to wait longer. Their mothers, on the other hand, were so much worse. Getting them to shut their fucking traps was a whole separate exercise in endurance.

But as much as I disliked children, there was something magical about them. It was their inability to see gray, I think. Their entire worlds existed in black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. You could see it in their faces as a story unfolded, rife with nervous energy at every inconsequential turn.

“And she just doesn’t know”—I read to the room, pointing to each gigantic word—“should she stay, should she go?”

I caught a boy’s expression, who sat just inches from me. The hippopotamus in our story was faced with a dilemma, and this boy was transfixed. His eyes were wide, his hands were cupped over his mouth, and he was vibrating with anticipation to see what the hippo would do next.

I flipped to the last page. “But yes the hippopotamus.”

The boy relaxed a little, making a deliberate show of letting his shoulders drop. A talented drama queen in the making. He was new to storytime and looked to be about five or six years old. He had dark hair, a tan complexion, and a missing front tooth. He’d attended just once before and he’d sat close that day, as well. I’d never really been big on learning children’s names, to be honest, but I knew his was Neil only because he’d come to the library alone both times. It sounds strange, I’m sure, but having a parent use the library as a free babysitting service happens more often than most people would guess.

I continued on, reading the final words of the story. “But not the armadillo.”

Neil was stressed all over again, and his tiny hand shot up. “Miss Afton?”

“Yes, ah, Neil? What is it, little man?”

“How come not the arma-darma?”

“Armadillo.” A woman in baggy gray sweatpants corrected him from the back of the room. She was a few years older than me, had bleach-blonde hair in a ponytail, and her voice resembled a seagull getting crushed by a car.

I shut the book and set it on my lap. “That’s a good question, Neil.” I bit my lower lip, deciding how much to share. “Well, let’s see. Ah, no one likes armadillos, for starters. They’re bullet-proof, if you can believe it, and ugly as sin. They carry leprosy, too, but they don’t bite children too often.”

The woman at the back of the room—Sweatpants, let’s call her—looked horrified. Her stained teeth chattered and she blinked in rapid succession. She placed her palms over her daughter’s ears, a girl around three or four in age.

Neil scratched his head. “What’s a lepra-she?”

“It’s—”

Sweatpants raised her hand to silence me—not that I minded—and looked to a few of the other mothers in the room for support, most of whom were checked out or occupied with their phones. She looked back at me again, then at her daughter. “It’s when good little boys and girls get ice cream.” That wasn’t how I might have defined the word, however. “You want to stop for ice cream on the way home, Jessi?”

It was hard enough getting these little turds to sit still for all fourteen pages of But Not the Hippopotamus. Why on earth would this woman want to stuff her daughter’s face with sugar before lunch? But the girl jumped up and squealed at the mention of sweets, and soon, other kids joined in, as did their mothers.

I peeked down at Neil to see him cradling his head in his hands, masking a look of disappointment by staring at the floor. It appeared he had forgotten all about armadillos and leprosy and storytime, and now sulked, wishing he had a parent present to take him for ice cream like the other children.

The mothers talked amongst themselves, and their toddlers fed on the elevated energy levels. The room was alive with discourse, and I wondered if the local Dairy Queen might consider paying me a small commission. “Well, that’s it for storytime, boys and girls. Thanks for coming.”

Sweatpants spoke up at the back of the room, the self-elected leader of Wakefield’s fattest and frumpiest. “But it’s only quarter past, Afton. Isn’t storytime supposed to be a full hour?”

“Just figured you were all on your way to get a double-scoop of leprosy.”

“Very funny.”

I raised my hands in a gesture of mock uncertainty. “We’ve got crafts we can do.” I pointed to three short tables covered in plastic, adorned with supplies that Kim had set up for us. “Should we get to it?”

“That won’t take long. Couldn’t you read them another story first?”

Couldn’t I read them another story? It’d been her idea to squeeze out one of these little nightmares. Why was I being punished for it? “Not this week, I’m afraid. Sorry.”

But she just wouldn’t give up. “Afton, do you know where Jessi’s daddy is right now?”

My first thought was that her husband was probably fucking her sister at some roadside motel with hourly rates, bed bugs, and a one-star rating on Trip Advisor. I couldn’t say that out loud, of course, and so I fought like hell to keep a smirk off my face. It helped to keep my sights trained on Jessi, who had sat back down, cross-legged in a checkered dress. She was drawing on the floor with one small finger.

Sweatpants answered her own question. “He’s at work, Afton. And he works hard, by the way, and we pay more than our share of taxes in this town. Taxes that pay your salary.”

Oh, the salary card. How I loved it when disgruntled parents brought up my salary, as if any one of them wanted to trade places with me. Yes, her taxes paid me a small fortune. That’s why I rented a one-bedroom apartment in a triplex. And it’s the same reason I drove a seven-year-old Corolla. I was so grateful—indebted, even—to Sweatpants and her husband that I just couldn’t wait to read another story.

“Sure thing.” I grabbed a second book off the pile next to me. “One more story, coming right up.”

Sweatpants smiled. It was a flat, fake smile, of course, the kind where the mouth curls tight but the eyes are dormant. It was about the best I could have hoped for, and it seemed to have a calming effect on the other mothers. They quieted down, eager to return to their various text message conversations.

I pointed my finger to more jumbo text on a colorful page. A story about an overweight and diabetic caterpillar with impulse control issues, who was always so very very fucking hungry. “In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf . . .”

And I couldn’t help but lose myself in thought. I was that little egg on a leaf, glimmering in the moonlight, and about to hatch. Soon after, the morning would come. And my hunger would be satiated at last, because Kenneth Pritchard would be dead.


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Brent Jones

From bad checks to bathroom graffiti, Brent Jones has always been drawn to writing. He won a national creative writing competition at the age of fourteen, although he can’t recall what the story was about. Seventeen years later, he gave up his career to pursue creative writing full-time.

Jones writes from his home in Fort Erie, Canada. He’s happily married, a bearded cyclist, a mediocre guitarist, and the proud owner of two dogs with a God complex.

Social Media Links:

Twitter https://twitter.com/AuthorBrentJ

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBrentJ/

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/authorbrentj/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/AuthorBrentJ

Website https://authorbrentjones.com/


BLOG TOUR SCHEDULE 

June 25th

Reads & Reels (Review) http://www.readsandreels.com

Book Wonderland (Review) https://bookwonderlandweb.wordpress.com/

Down the Rabbit Hole (Review) http://meggydowntherabbithole.wordpress.com/

Touch My Spine Book Reviews (Review) https://touchmyspinebookreviews.com

June 26th

Book Dragon Girl (Review) http://www.bookdragongirl.com

Jessica Rachow (Review) http://jessicarachow.wordpress.com

Sinfully Wicked Book Reviews (Review) https://sinfullywickedbookreviews.com

The Scribblings (Review) https://thescribblingssite.wordpress.com

On the Shelf Reviews (Review) https://ontheshelfreviews.wordpress.com

June 27th

Tranquil Dreams (Review) http://klling.wordpress.com

June 28th

Dash Fan Book Reviews (Review) https://dashfan81.blogspot.com

J Bronder Book Reviews (Review) http://jbronderbookreviews.wordpress.com/

Just 4 My Books (Review) http://www.just4mybooks.wordpress.com

Life at 17 (Review) https://lifeat17.wordpress.com

June 29th

Kim Knight (Review) http://kimknightauthor.wordpress.com

Misty’s Book Space (Review) http://mistysbookspace.wordpress.com

Port Jerricho (Review) http://www.aislynndmerricksson.com

Errin Krystal (Review) https://errinkrystal.wordpress.com

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Posted in Book Blitz, Survival, Thriller, Young Adult

Book Blitz: Feel Me Fall by James Morris

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Genre: YA/ Thriller/ Survival

Publication Date: May 2017

Blurb:

Secrets and survival in the Amazon

Emily Duran is the sole survivor of a plane crash that left her and her teenage friends stranded and alone in the jungles of the Amazon. Lost and losing hope, they struggle against the elements, and each other. With their familiar pecking order no longer in place, a new order emerges, filled with power struggles, betrayals, secrets and lies. Emily must explain why she’s the last left alive.

But can she carry the burden of the past?

Discover the gripping new adventure novel that explores who we are when no one is watching, and how far we’ll go in order to survive.

Buy at Amazon                Add to Goodreads 

Excerpt

I have tried so hard to forget, but memory is a stubborn thing. Memories linger no matter what I do. They’re there all the time—and worse. Even my dreams aren’t safe. I have vicious nightmares, and they’re real—too real—and suddenly I’m back there. I can’t will them away, I can’t squeeze them away, and the more I try, the more they burrow in my head. I want to cut open my skull and dig my fingers into my brain and just pull them out.

I press the Call Nurse button.

This place, this room; it’s no better than a white coffin. Sometimes I feel like the walls are closing in on me and I have to remind myself nothing’s moving. Nothing at all.

Breathe, I tell myself. Just breathe.

A nurse enters. She’s got skin the color of rich walnut. She says, “It’s late, you should be asleep.”

“I can’t.” She tilts her head, knowing it’s a lie. The truth is I don’t want to. “Can I have some coffee?”

“You’ve got to sleep sometime, honey.” She walks over and gently grasps my bandaged hand. “Do you want me to stay with you a while?”

Usually my mom is with me, but she must’ve had to run home. Reduced to a little girl, I nod.

I close my eyes, but my mind runs and runs. Tubes and fluids enter my body, but there’s nothing to stop the anxiety. My heart pounds and sometimes I fear I’m on the cusp of crossing into whatever lies on the other side of sane. Being in the hospital makes it harder. The white walls and sick people only remind me that I am so far from normal. My mom’s apartment in Los Angeles is less than five miles away, but it might as well be a million.

The nurse, staff, doctors, everyone; they all know me for one thing. The thing that will define me for the rest of my life. I am a survivor. The only survivor of Air Brazil, the plane that crashed in the Amazon jungle carrying 134 passengers; 37 of them students, teachers, and chaperones from Riverdale Academy High. I used to hear about plane crashes and wondered how the victims felt in the seconds before impact, wondered what it was like to know you were about to die.

Now I know. And I’d give anything not to.

I knew those people from school. Every. Single. One.

They aren’t faceless names. They are people and they are dead.

The counselor didn’t help, either. She told me not to feel guilty. Survivor’s guilt, she called it. She warned I could expect to be angry and sad. I could expect to be confused. I wanted to tell her I was angry and sad and confused long before I got onto that plane.

My counselor told me to write my story down. By writing I could make sense of all that happened. I keep thinking if I remember everything the way I need to that the memories will fade away. That I can accept what happened. I can accept that I survived and everyone else died.

The laptop on my nightstand is waiting for me. I’m scared to touch it.

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I was dead to the world and when I came to I was drowning. Water gushed into my mouth and I was tumbling, flailing, not knowing what end was up or down. I heard the sounds of screaming and the roaring of water and then nothingness. Coming up for air, I held something, something rectangular. The seat cushion I was holding kept me afloat. I was in a river and I didn’t know why. I kicked and kicked and it made no difference. I never believed in God, an all-powerful being that allowed so many horrible things to happen, but as I saw the rocks up ahead, I prayed.

The current sped faster, churning like boiling water and I thought I was going to die.

I was 17 and I was going to die.

All the time wasted. All the things I never got to do.

I had one thought over and over: I don’t want to die. Someone else, but not me.

I held onto that seat cushion for dear life and plunged into the rapids. I was a human rag doll. The torrent sucked me into a watery hell and I couldn’t breathe; my eyes shut, mouth shut, face tight against the murk, willing everything to stop. I couldn’t breathe. I started to panic.

Someone else, but not me.

I needed air, my body screamed for it and I opened my mouth about to take in water when I bubbled up to the surface and gasped. As quickly as I was brought above, I was taken under again. I slammed against the rocks and buried my face deeper into the cushion. I saw nothing, heard nothing, and imagined I was in a womb. I could only wait for the terror to pass. There was no outlet; my fear was so deep and tangible I couldn’t scream. It felt like an actual substance that enveloped my body, my brain, my very being. I receded further and further within myself, a dark hole, my entire body a taut muscle.

Suddenly, I took a shot to the head and saw stars. A high-pitched squeal rang in my ears. I fought the growing sensation of darkness that threatened to overcome me, but I knew to give in meant death. I was tempted. So, so tempted. I forced my eyes open and saw the water, the dark water and wondered in that emptiness if I hadn’t died already.

My prayer must’ve been heard.

The water calmed and I was spit out near a bend. I realized I had to give up the cushion, my lifeline—it was holding me back. I let go, cursing myself as it floated away and I swam, giving everything I had. My body had nothing left but I commanded it, willed it, to swim. As I approached the shore, my shoes finally touched bottom and I heaved myself onto land.

I don’t know how long I lay there catching my breath. But there is no greater feeling of security than the sensation of the earth beneath your stomach, hands grabbing dirt. The scent of decay and wet leaves smelled like a bouquet. All this time I’d taken the ground beneath me for granted. Now I was thankful for this place to rest.

I was soaked. My jeans pressed against me, my hair drenched, my socks squished against my feet. I didn’t understand. I had left on a flight from Los Angeles with a layover in Panama City and then on to Asuncion, Paraguay for a year-end class trip. We were traveling as an inter-disciplinary trip for history, international relations, foreign language and biology. We were going to have the trip of a lifetime.

Then it hit me, a delayed reaction: I almost drowned. I almost died. My body seized and I was overwhelmed. I cried; I didn’t even know why or for what, but I sobbed on that little stretch of dirt. I heaved, gasping for breath. Every inhale was a wheeze, and I caught myself hitting the ground, my hands balled into tight fists, pounding and pounding.

Moments passed and I cried myself empty. I told myself: get up. You have to get up.

I placed my hands in the dirt to help me stand and looked around thinking: What is this place? There was green everywhere, too much green, and a river the width of three football fields in front of me. The air was heavy, a physical pressure against my skin. I was in the jungle, a tangled web of trees and totally foreign. Any other time, I might’ve been amazed by its majesty, only now I felt small. Trees towered behind me, the river flowed in front, and I was trapped.

It was then I felt the weight of my cross-body bag. I’d been wearing it the whole time. Not very heavy, I managed to unhook it and was about to open the zipper when I heard screams.

Floating down the river were more people. I wasn’t alone! A ripple of joy overtook me until I saw their faces reflecting what I sensed my own might look like—bruised, bleeding, and utterly thrashed.

Exhausted, I shouted my voice hoarse, “Over here!” I waved my hands over my head. “You can do it,” I encouraged. “Almost there!”

Some didn’t move at all. They floated, faces down, rolling through the current, lost in the rapids, disappearing for far too long. Those were the ones who didn’t thrash. Others were swept in the rapids, their screams barely heard over the rushing water only to be silenced on the other end. I was watching people die. The bodies were like a slow leak, trickling down the river a few at a time, and yet almost none of them emerged alive on the other side of the rocks. I couldn’t save them. They were too far away.

Someone else, but not me.

I didn’t mean like this.

Then I saw Viv and my heart nearly stopped.

She struggled in the water, past the rapids, a bobber about to go under. She was never athletic even though she was stick thin. Water gurgled from her mouth and she barely moved. I couldn’t bear to lose her. I wouldn’t allow it. I was terrified of my own exhaustion, but I jumped into the water and found a strength I never knew. I swam out to her. Her head dipped under the water and I would not let that be the last time I saw my best friend alive. I grasped her flotation cushion and then headed back to shore.

She looked at me, dazed. “Emily, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” I could barely contain my relief.

The sun shone over my head, reflecting in the ripples. “You look like an angel.”

I knew Vivian was out of it. “Stop talking now. Just swim. We’re going to be okay.”

I reached the shore for a second time and pulled her up with me. Once on land, she pulled me into a hug and nothing had ever felt better. Always shorter than me, her face burrowed into my chest and I felt I was protecting an abandoned baby bird. Her inky dark hair, usually so pretty was now plastered to her head, her make-up had washed away, and she was just this tiny thing. Her whole body shivered. “Tell me it’s a dream, tell me it’s a dream….”

“I wish it was, Viv.” I would’ve stayed hugging her if not for the other people in need of help.

Nico, Viv’s immature boyfriend, splashed ashore, his glasses gone, his nose bloody, red streaks smeared across his face. He was panting and heaved over, and I thought he might throw up. We had a history, but there was no time for irritation. Any familiar face was cause for celebration. He seemed surprised to see me. “You made it.”

He then eased Viv from my arms and into his.

Further down the river there was movement. It was Derek, all limbs and urgency, his face pockmarked with acne and not a hint of stubble. He splashed onto shore, his fingers digging into sand and he kissed the earth.

Twenty yards away, Ryan Wray followed. One of his prosthetic legs was missing—he’d lost his legs below the knee after contracting a rare case of meningitis a few years earlier—and he crab-walked onto land, his one pant leg empty, wet, and flat. He wasn’t alone. He helped guide Mean Molly with him. She was far from mean then, almost drowned, flustered and frantic. Once she got out of the water, she toppled in the mud, curling into a fetal position.

I stayed where I was as Ryan, Molly and Derek staggered along the shore, finally meeting up with us.

There was no time to rest or reflect. The river scattered more survivors along the shore. I pulled in a man and stopped in alarm when I saw that one of his arms had snapped off. I gently laid him down and he didn’t even notice until he turned his head. He said with an eerie calm, “That looks painful.” I recognized him from the plane. He’d sat a few aisles in front of me and slammed back drinks whenever we hit a patch of turbulence. On land, he didn’t even scream. His face was pale and blood spurted in rhythmic pulses from below his shoulder.

“What do we do?” Nico said.

I had no clue. I only knew we needed to do something. “Derek, your belt!”

Derek looked from his perch on the mud and shook his head. I couldn’t believe it.

“Derek, give me your belt! He’s losing too much blood.”

Derek, in shock or otherwise, didn’t move.

I searched for anything that would act as a tourniquet, but my efforts were in vain. The man’s blood had dwindled to a dribble, leaving a red puddle in the mud.

Another woman emerged from the water like a swamp creature, stumbling. We sat her down and she gazed at the water. She had a head injury like mine. Blood ran from her scalp and there was a small spot where her hair had been chafed away. It wasn’t a wound. It was a hole. Looking closer, I could see something I didn’t want to—her skull and what lay within. Her eyelids fluttered and she swayed, falling unconscious. I tried to grab her, but gravity took her to the ground. I nudged her once, twice; she didn’t respond. “Wake up,” I pleaded. “Please wake up.” She never moved again.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run from this place.

It seemed like a Halloween parade. They had to be in costume or using special effects; the injuries and deaths couldn’t be real.

They were all too real.

One man drifted to shore, his face down in the water, his wispy gray hair splayed out on the water’s surface. We grabbed ahold of him and he was heavy, far too heavy for his slender body. We saw why. The flotation device had kept him afloat, but he’d drowned somewhere along the way.

The last man we helped suffered so many burns his face was charred and etched in pain—I had the horrible thought of grill marks on steak. Once on land he jumped back into the water. Maybe the water had soothed him. I tried to reach out and grab him. “Let me help you!” But he was hysterical, too fast, and we watched as he floated away. I tell myself that he would’ve probably died anyway.

It’s terrible that I only knew them as The Woman, The Old Man, The Man Without an Arm and The Burned Man. Somewhere people knew their names, their histories, secrets and loves. Many of them rested at our feet, their chests still, mouths open. We were among the dead, and I found that we all, consciously or not, distanced ourselves from the horror.

###

The six of us stood on the shore, a hodgepodge of strained relationships, but I hoped the past meant nothing now. Silence fell over us. My voice felt robotic. “What happened?”

They looked at me as if I was stupid and in that moment I knew.

You’ve been in a plane crash.

You’ve been in a plane crash and you survived.

Viv broke down crying. “Where’s everyone else?” I asked.

“Where do you think?” said Ryan.

There had been a whole planeload of people, 37 of them from our school including my English teacher, Mr. DeKoning. We couldn’t be the only ones left. Things like this didn’t happen. At least not to us. To me.

I struggled, trying to remember, and yet there was only me sitting in my cramped seat, my body wracked with discomfort after such a long flight, the recycled air making my skin feel plastic, and then this. “How did we end up in the water?”

Ryan looked at me, stunned. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head.

“Maybe it’s better that way.”

Derek rose. “The plane crashed in the Amazon. At least that’s what the map on my seat showed. You don’t remember bracing yourself? The flight attendants freaking out?”

“She said no, Derek!” This from Viv.

Derek said, “The plane broke apart. Flooded. We were lucky to get out.”

I didn’t remember any of it. “How did I get out?”

“Same way we did,” Derek said. “We were all sitting near each other. Near the exit rows. Threw on our life jackets or grabbed seat cushions and jumped in the water. A lot of people….” He paused. “A lot of people didn’t.” Derek looked at the dead adults. “They did, though.” He spit near the dead bodies.

“What are you talking about?”

“You should’ve seen ‘em claw over everyone. Trampled over people. They scratched and pushed their way out. There were no heroes on that plane. Not them, at least. They deserved to die.”

Nico shot back, “No one deserved to die. No one.”


3786BDB9-DBFF-4D64-B17A-BF88F09AA899James Morris is a television writer who now works in digital media. He is the author of the young adult thriller What Lies Within, the dystopian love story Melophobia, the young adult suspense Feel Me Fall, and the young adult horror Screams You Hear. When not writing, you can find him scoping out the latest sushi spot, watching ‘House Hunters Renovation’, or trying new recipes in the kitchen. He lives with his wife and dog in Los Angeles. Catch him at jamesmorriswriter.com.

Website: http://www.jamesmorriswriter.com/
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/JMorrisWriter
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jamesmorriswriter/
Author Link: https://www.amazon.com/James-Morris/e/B00XRTJ138/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1499311931&sr=8-1

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Giveaway: A print copy of Feel Me Fall!

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Posted in Blog Tour, Book Review, Horror, My favorites, Thriller, Young Adult

REVIEW & Blog Tour: JINXED by Thommy Hutson

Jinxed
Thommy Hutson
Publication date: March 13th 2018
Genres: Horror, Thriller, Young Adult

High School Can Be a Real Killer

Break a mirror

Walk under a ladder

Step on a crack

Innocent childhood superstitions …

But someone at the secluded Trask Academy of Performing Arts is taking things one deadly step further when the campus is rocked with the deaths of some of its star students.

Layna Curtis, a talented, popular senior, soon realizes that the seemingly random, accidental deaths of her friends aren’t random—or accidents—at all. Someone has taken the childhood games too far, using the idea of superstitions to dispose of their classmates. As Layna tries to convince people of her theory, she uncovers the terrifying notion that each escalating, gruesome murder leads closer to its final victim: her.

Will Layna’s opening night also be her final bow?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

🎭MY REVIEW:

This was very reminiscent of those slasher movies of the 80’s – 90’s and it was very well done! The action scenes were so tense and the writing so well done, that I could visualize things as if I was there. It definitely doesn’t have you jumping out of your seat like a movie with all the sound effects and visual effects does, but it is definitely intense and for a book it really did freak me out more than I’d like to admit…lol! At times the writing was pretty graphic, I felt like I almost wanted to turn away. Again, just like when you watched those slasher movies.

As far as the mystery, I changed my guess a million times. It is NOT one of those completely obvious, easy to guess books. This one really had me going around in circles. I love that!

I can definitely see this book on the big screen someday! I would love that! Thommy Hutson, as seen in his bio below, is extremely gifted. His writing is phenomenal, the way he could make me react to things like I was really seeing them is impressive! I will be on the lookout for anything else he writes. He is definitely a one-click author for me, after reading this book!

Highly recommended 5/5 Star Book!!!🎭

 

Author Bio:

Born and raised in Upstate New York, Thommy graduated from UCLA and launched his career co-writing the story for the Warner Bros. animated hit SCOOBY-DOO IN WHERE’S MY MUMMY? He followed that with co-writing the concept and additional material for CHILL OUT, SCOOBY-DOO!

His career then took a thrilling turn when he wrote and produced several definitive genre film retrospectives for television and home entertainment: SCREAM: THE INSIDE STORY, NEVER SLEEP AGAIN: THE ELM STREET LEGACY, MORE BRAINS! A RETURN TO THE LIVING DEAD and HIS NAME WAS JASON: 30 YEARS OF FRIDAY THE 13th.

He was also a staff writer on Hulu’s daily web series “The Morning After,” a smart, witty, pop culture program aimed at getting viewers up-to-date on the latest entertainment news and celebrity interviews.

Thommy also produced the critically acclaimed feature THE TROUBLE WITH THE TRUTH, an insightful relationship drama starring Lea Thompson and John Shea. He also produced DREAMWORLD, a quirky, romantic dramedy.

He co-wrote and produced ANIMAL for Chiller Films and Drew Barrymore’s Flower Films. The project debuted in iTunes’ top ten horror films (reaching #1) and became the network’s highest-rated original movie.

Continuing his passion for uncovering the stories behind the story, he went on to produce CRYSTAL LAKE MEMORIES: THE COMPLETE HISTORY OF FRIDAY THE 13th, which is the most comprehensive look at the popular film franchise.

As an author Thommy crafted a limited-edition coffee table book detailing the making and legacy of Wes Craven’s 1984 classic A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET. A trade version distributed by Simon & Schuster reached number one in Amazon.com’s Movie History & Criticism category. He also has a deal with Vesuvian Media to write a YA thriller trilogy with the first book due out spring 2017.

He produced and made his feature directorial debut with THE ID, an independent psychological drama/thriller. Filmmaker Magazine stated it was “a deeply unsettling thriller that’s as moving as it is frightening…with skillful, provocative direction that has echoes of early Polanski.”

Most recently, Thommy wrote the screenplay for CineTel Films’ supernatural horror film TRUTH OR DARE. He is also directing, writing and producing a documentary with Clive Barker’s Seraphim Films in addition to developing other film and television properties with the company.

As an author, he is currently writing another book that definitively details the history, making and legacy of another fan-favorite genre film from the 1980s.

A member of the Producers Guild of America, Thommy continues to develop unique, compelling and provocative projects across multiple genres for film, television, publishing, and home entertainment through his company Hutson Ranch Media.

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Posted in Action, Release Blitz, Suspense, Thriller

Release Blitz: Secrets by Mikey Lee

SECRETS_AvailableNowBANNER
SECRETS by Mikey Lee IS NOW AVAILABLE!
FREE with #KindleUnlimited
Secrets cover Ebook V1
“Mikey Lee delivers a mind-blowing WOW factor built with strong characters and a storyline full of suspense and intrigue.” – FG Adams, Author of the Bestselling THIS IS OUR LIFE Series
SECRETS is a fast-paced, action thriller full of suspense and secrets. This is NOT a romance novel.
SECRETS_TEASER1
***
She never misses the mark.
Until the one mission that sets her on a collision course with the rest of her life.
Emily has been trained as an assassin for as long as she can remember.
She’s precise. Methodical. Obsessively thorough.
After her father dies, she goes through the motions – never wanting more from life than what she’s been taught to do.
Until she meets Ryan, who changes everything she thought she knew.
Her secrets are about to be revealed. But she’s not the only one.
SECRETS is a fast-paced, action thriller full of suspense and secrets. This is NOT a romance novel.
SECRETS_TEASER3
***
ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2ETjnax
FOLLOW HIM on Bookbub → http://bit.ly/2ka907l
SECRETS_TEASER2
***
Cover Model: Kristen Hope Mazzola – Model / Kristen Hope Mazzola
Photography & Cover Design: Bruiser Designs

About the Author:

Mikey Lee is a veteran of the United States Marine Corps and is a strong supporter of the military. He has a degree in Criminal Justice and he started writing as a way to express his creative side.

Mikey and his wife live happily in West Virginia, where he tries to make his wife fall in love with him every day. He also talks in his sleep. He has been so humbled by the support of readers, bloggers, and other authors.

Connect with Mikey:

Website: http://www.mikeyleebooks.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/MikeyLeeBooks
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorMikeyLee
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fzZrOv
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2eEEvRA
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mikey-lee

Posted in Action, Cover Reveal, Mystery, Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Young Adult

Cover Reveal: ECHOES by Alice Reeds

Let us know what you think of the cover for Echoes by Alice Reeds, which releases August 7, 2018!

This cover reveal is brought to you by Entangled Teen.

About Echoes:

“Fast-paced and thrilling. ECHOES is a heart-pounding and addictive love story.” —Mia Siegert, author of Jerkbait

They wake on a deserted island. Fiona and Miles, high school enemies now stranded together. No memory of how they got there. No plan to follow, no hope to hold on to.

Each step forward reveals the mystery behind the forces that brought them here. And soon, the most chilling discovery: something else is on the island with them.
Something that won’t let them leave alive.

Echoes is a thrilling adventure about confronting the impossible, discovering love in the most unexpected places, and, above all, finding hope in the face of the unknown.

Want to read more? Pre-order your copy of Echoes by Alice Reedstoday!

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Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Entangled Publishing

About Alice Reeds:

Alice Reeds was born in a small town in Germany but spent her first eight years in Florida, USA. Later on, she moved back to Europe, where her family moved around a lot. She was raised trilingual and has a basic understanding of Russian, read and spoken. After getting her International Baccalaureate Diploma, Alice is studying English Language and Literature at University. In her free time Alice mostly writes, reads, figure and/or roller skates, or watches countless let’s plays and figure skating videos.

Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon | Entangled Publishing

 

Posted in Blog Tour, Mystery, Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Young Adult

Blog Tour: Pretty Dead Girls by Monica Murphy

SBPRBanner-PDG-BT

Pretty Dead Girls by Monica Murphy
Release Date: January 2nd, 2018
Genre: Young Adult Romance

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Beautiful. Perfect. Dead.
In the peaceful seaside town of Cape Bonita, wicked secrets and lies are hidden just beneath the surface. But all it takes is one tragedy for them to be exposed.
The most popular girls in school are turning up dead, and Penelope Malone is terrified she’s next. All the victims so far have been linked to Penelope—and to a boy from her physics class. The one she’s never really noticed before, with the rumored dark past and a brooding stare that cuts right through her.

There’s something he isn’t telling her. But there’s something she’s
not telling him, either.
Everyone has secrets, and theirs might get them killed.

>>>MY REVIEW IS HERE IF YOU LIKE TO CHECK IT OUT.<<<

Blog Tour

Excerpt:

“That car is still trailing us.”

Glancing in the side mirror, I see that the car is behind us. Cass chooses that moment to take a curve extra fast, making the tires squeal, and I gasp. “You’re scaring me,” I murmur. It feels like my heart just flew into my throat.

“Just wait. What I really want to do is going to scare you even more,” he says cryptically.
“What do you want to do?”

“You’ll have to trust me on this.”

“Okay.” I clamp my lips shut. I shouldn’t automatically agree, right? I’m still having trust issues, even though I’d never say that out loud. This entire day has been confusing. I don’t know who to believe anymore.

“No demanding we back out once we commit,” he says, his gaze never wavering from the road. “That’s a surefire way to get ourselves hurt.”

His words are ominous. Like a warning. “Fine. I’m all in.”

He eases up on the gas pedal, just the slightest bit. The car slows, the vehicle behind us drawing closer. So close I swear it looks like it’s going to eat the back bumper. “I don’t want you to freak out.”

“Oh my God, Cass.” Why is he slowing down? “Just tell me.”

“You have to promise me one thing first.” His gaze meets mine, lingering a moment too long. He should be watching the road, not staring at me. “Say you’ll promise.”

“I promise,” I readily agree, frowning. “But what am I promising?”

He’s staring straight ahead once more, his fingers sliding over the steering wheel, almost like a caress. “You can’t scream.”

What?

“I mean it. No screaming. No yelling. You must remain quiet. I need you to trust me, Pen.” He hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “Do you trust me?”

Do I? He’s already asked me once and I said yes, but the doubt still creeps in. He scares me a little. He also—God, I am so ridiculous thinking this, but—he turns me on. He does. There’s something about him. He has this edge that other boys don’t have. And when he touches me, kisses me…

I’d probably do just about anything he asks me to.

So how can I doubt him when we’ve already gone this far together?

“I won’t scream,” I tell him quietly. “And I won’t yell. I promise.”

“Okay.” He nods once, then hisses out a breath between his teeth. I chance a glance at him, the way his dark hair falls over his forehead, how he’s squinting his eyes. What he’s about to do, what’s about to happen, feels…dangerous. “Here it goes.”

With a flick of his wrist he turns the car’s headlights off. Like, completely off. The road goes dark. I suck in a breath, hold it until I feel like it’s choking me. He hits the gas pedal hard, the SUV roaring to life as he flies down the road. A dangerous, winding road where multiple car crashes occur every year. The windows are down, the wind blows through my hair, blasts against my face, and I close my eyes.

I’m scared, and I can’t make a sound. Not a peep. I hold onto the handle right above the window, gripping it with both hands as Cass takes the twisty road with ease. My gaze is trained on the side mirror and I watch for the car lights behind us.
They’re still there.

PDG-AN

Read Today!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2iELp0r
iBooks: http://apple.co/2wzp1pV
B&N: http://bit.ly/2hbMGe3
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hbqWLF
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2y7MQGv
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2j1OGDR

Meet Monica:
Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is both self-published and published by Random House/Bantam and Harper Collins/Avon. She writes new adult, young adult and contemporary romance.

She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she’s not writing, she’s reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She’s a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.

 

Connect with Monica:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MonicaMurphyauthor/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5934418.Monica_Murphy
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1YUl0Vm
Website: http://monicamurphyauthor.com
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/IW5U0y

 

Posted in Book Review, Mystery, Romance, Suspense, Thriller, Young Adult

Review: Pretty Dead Girls by Monica Murphy

B36F414D-FD9C-466D-A032-B74B26798A8E

Beautiful. Perfect. Dead.

In the peaceful seaside town of Cape Bonita, wicked secrets and lies are hidden just beneath the surface. But all it takes is one tragedy for them to be exposed.

The most popular girls in school are turning up dead, and Penelope Malone is terrified she’s next. All the victims so far have been linked to Penelope—and to a boy from her physics class. The one she’s never really noticed before, with the rumored dark past and a brooding stare that cuts right through her.

There’s something he isn’t telling her. But there’s something she’s not telling him, either.

Everyone has secrets, and theirs might get them killed.

ADD TO GOODREADS HERE         ADD TO AMAZON HERE

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MY THOUGHTS:

In reviews, I read Pretty Dead Girls was described as being like the TV shows Pretty Little Liars and Scream Queens. It’s labeled as a Young Adult thriller. Personally I feel it should’ve been labeled a little differently. It is a Young Adult Thriller, NOT to be confused with Horror, but just as much suspenseful, mystery and romantic, in fact the romance plays a big part. Reminding me much of some of those Slasher movies like I Know What You Did Last Summer or Scream. In fact, I would say more like those movies than Pretty Little Liars. But, I would agree that it is comparable to Scream Queens. It definitely has that group of mean girls. It definitely was the kind of book I had trouble putting down. Many of my horror friends will likely find it a joke, as they do many books that I find to be adequately scary, a thrill or suspenseful. Lol…yep, make fun of me now. Lol

Anyway, I loved this book, I found myself glued to the pages trying to figure out the mystery of who it is (I love mysteries) and of course I love romance, and I really enjoyed that part of it (even if I didn’t always trust him). The characters were very well written. I hated the mean girls. Loved Penelope, the main protagonist. I suspected so many people. I was on and off about certain characters, one minute I trusted them, the next minute I didn’t. (Trying not to give away too much) But it was just fun! I love books that make me think, reason, analyze and try to guess before the book ends. I haven’t been reading that many mysteries this year, and this book made me remember how much I love a good Suspense/Mystery/Romance….I’m not asking for too much, am I? Lol

I recommend this highly for someone who likes Young Adult, Thrillers, Suspense, Mystery and Romance. Oh and may like the show Scream Queens or the slasher movies, Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer (there’s a good amount of slashing and blood). If that’s your thing, you will probably really enjoy this book!! I know I did!!


667BEE69-4DDA-4751-B92F-2DE516337213Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is both self-published and published by Random House/Bantam and Harper Collins/Avon. She writes new adult, young adult and contemporary romance.

She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she’s not writing, she’s reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She’s a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.

Visit her website at http://monicamurphyauthor.com for more information or sign up for her newsletter: http://bit.ly/IW5U0y

Monica is also known as USA Today bestselling romance author Karen Erickson (http://karenerickson.com).

Check out her Facebook page for more info & regular updates: https://www.facebook.com/MonicaMurphyauthor

Hang out with her on Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/monicamurphyauthor/

 

 

 

Posted in Mystery, Romance, Suspense, Teaser Share, Thriller, Young Adult

Teaser Share: Pretty Dead Girls by Monica Murphy

Pretty Dead Girls

An all-new YA thriller from Monica Murphy is coming January 2nd, 2018!

17DDA2F1-D705-4DA8-A52E-7CE4406121F3

Beautiful. Perfect. Dead.

In the peaceful seaside town of Cape Bonita, wicked secrets and lies are hidden just beneath the surface. But all it takes is one tragedy for them to be exposed.

The most popular girls in school are turning up dead, and Penelope Malone is terrified she’s next. All the victims so far have been linked to Penelope—and to a boy from her physics class. The one she’s never really noticed before, with the rumored dark past and a brooding stare that cuts right through her.

There’s something he isn’t telling her. But there’s something she’s not telling him, either.

Everyone has secrets, and theirs might get them killed.

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2wCcXEG

Preorder Now!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2iELp0r
iBooks: http://apple.co/2wzp1pV
B&N: http://bit.ly/2hbMGe3
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hbqWLF