Cyberpunk MM Feature: Icarus Rising by Stephanie Burke & Areana Senoj #preorder #comingsoon #cyberpunk #mmromance #scifi #rabtbooktours @changelingpress @AreanaSFemlycan @Flashycat @RABTBookTours

 

Motherboards & Magic (#2)

 

Cyberpunk / Gay Romance / Sci-Fi

Date Published: 1/3/25

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

Dark clouds are gathering. Icarus is the light at the end of the tunnel. And in his wake: Chaos.

 

Even though dark clouds gather in the distance, Asher, Vers, and Korya start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. That “Light” is named Icarus, and with him comes chaos. Even as the trio’s immediate problem is solved, more people are out to get them.

With danger at every turn, they can only depend on each other. Who is this mysterious alien called Icarus? Is he there to help protect them from the DPL or are they about to become victims of an insidious plot to end the planet? Either way, the friction is burning as they take one step closer to unraveling the mysteries of Asher’s parents’ death, and what the DPL is hiding.

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Stephanie Burke & Areana Senoj

 

TO THE INDIVIDUAL WITH THE GOLDEN BLOOD:

WHOEVER IS THE RH NULL,

I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU.

WE HAVE ISSUES TO DISCUSS THAT ARE PARAMOUNT TO THE PROTECTION OF THIS PLANET.

MEET ME AT THE SAHARA, LAS VEGAS

THE ALEXANDRIA SUITE (OF COURSE)

 

Even on second reading, the message made no sense to Korya. “Okay, what the fuck?”

Vers immediately pulled up Korya’s keyboard and began a trace. “You might want to get the boss,” Vers snapped, eyes intent as zis four-fingered hands flew over the keyboard. “I can’t find any trace, or even how they broke through your firewall.”

Korya, not needing to be told twice, spun on her pink fuzzy slippers and raced to the bathroom. “Asher!” she called out as she swung the door open and… froze.

Asher stood before her, absently toweling his waist-length hair, completely and utterly naked as the day he was born. His long hair flowed in inky waves down his back, the ends, dyed a lighter blue, drawing her attention for a moment before her gaze returned to his… other attributes. Oh, every creator god that ever existed, was that dick real?

But then her focus shifted back to his face and questioning look. His head tilted to the side, his cybernetic eye flared wide blue before a silver line overtook the red bar that had been there since he received news about his parents.

Her gaze wandered again, trailing over his golden skin, noting how soft and supple it looked, then back to his heart-shaped face -- and down his neck. Even though he was breathing and swallowing normally, she didn’t notice his neck muscles constrict.

“Korya?” His voice box looked off, like it didn’t move naturally.

Her attention then traveled to his right arm, muscular and powerful looking as he rubbed at his scalp. His other hand let go of his fall of hair to rest on his hips as he adjusted his stance, then shifted his weight on his legs. And that was where the jaw-dropping confusion reasserted itself in Korya’s brain.

His left arm and hand were a strange, steel gray with what looked like swirls of silver. It covered his left arm from the shoulder down to his fingertips and both legs. The water flowed along the metal muscles that looked and moved as natural as flesh but strangely was not. Fuck. She’d forgotten that he had lost both of his legs and one arm…

But… how? If not for the color and the too graceful and smooth movements of his body, she would have totally forgotten the greater portion of his physiology was cybernetic.

But what beautiful technology, she decided as she tracked the shifting movements under the metallic skin of his thick thighs, down to his toes flexing on her shower mat, and then back up to his calves.

Her new boss was metal… well, mostly. Her gaze darted back up to his left shoulder where she would be damned if she could even see how the flesh attached to the metal. It was a smooth, seamless transition. Only the fact that the golden flesh tones of his skin faded into the stark steel-gray metal gave away his android leanings.

But damn, each muscle was defined and sculpted beautifully. Her gaze dropped to his hips where his perfect Adonis belt melded into metal in a beautiful flow that only the world’s best artists or poets could do it the most justice.

“There are veins!” she all but shouted as she moved closer, dropping to her knees and reaching out a tentative hand for the closest thigh.

She didn’t even notice his flinch, only that he stepped back a bit and stared down at her, his confused look turning incredulous as she got a closer look at what so fascinated her.

Truly, Asher would be flattered but he knew her fascination had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the hardware he sported.

“Can I help you?” he asked as she looked up at him, flushed bright red, and pulled her hand back.

“Uh… I mean… did this hurt?” Then she winced, thinking her previous question the most stupid that had ever fallen out of her mouth. “That was a dumb question. Of course, it hurt. How in the galaxy did they manage… I mean the seams are nonexistent. And you look so real…”

“Yeah, just like a real boy.” His tone was pissy at best, but he really didn’t care. There was a woman kneeling at his feet and reaching for parts of his body that only he and his many varied doctors… okay. He really didn’t care who was staring at him, any parts of him. His shame had died a hard death when they had to lift his dick for him to take a piss. The legs came first, after all, and over time they’d built the graphene skeleton for his left arm and replace the pulverized bones in his right. The legs were an easy build and began to look more and more human as the augmentation therapy advanced, but the arms… He remembered standing under the water of a hot shower for the first time in months when they finally got his legs attached and healed… and the complete humiliation of someone having to scrub between his butt cheeks after every time he took a shit when they finally allowed him solid foods. They were kind enough to do scar removal from the colostomy bag but by that time, he had been poked, prodded, scanned, examined, and touched on every part of his body, intimate or not. A female on her knees before him while he was naked was something he’d experienced several times before. Someone who was neither a medical nor scientific doctor touching him and without his consent, however…

“Did you need something, really, or is this just a thing you do? If it is, I’m sure Vers will be more amenable --”

“I’m sorry.” Korya moaned, slapping both hands over her eyes and lowering her head, giggling nervously.

No, not nervously -- more like she was shocked by her actions. But not too shocked, because yes, that was her, parting some fingers to get another look at his junk… or… what was she staring at?

About the Authors

Areana Senoj is a multi-genre writer of erotic romance, paranormal, and sci-fi fantasy fiction. She’s been an actress, singer, dancer, educator, and, briefly, a stay-at-home “tennis, soccer, and band mom,” as well as a small business entrepreneur. Now she’s enjoying a new career living life as a full-time writer. She’s thrilled to join Changeling Press, where she's teamed up with USA Today Best Selling Author Stephanie Burke, co-authoring Motherboards and Magic.

 

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Stephanie Burke is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

 

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Historical Fiction Feature: The Pope's Jew by Eva Mekler #historical #fiction #bookreview #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

 

Historical Fiction

 

 

Paris 1980

Who is Luc Kasten? A wealthy French industrialist? A wanted man? A Jew from Avignon who has led a forged life? Or is he all three? Now, 35 years after the end of WWII, he is ready to unburden himself and hires a veteran journalist, Diane Jameson, to write his memoir. But years of hiding his identity make him hesitate to share his grim secret. A chance encounter with a past enemy spurs him to violence, and Diane, who finds herself falling in love with him, joins Kasten in his struggle to outwit the man who can expose him. What ensues is a cat-and-mouse thriller and a love story set against the somber background of France during and after WWII.

 

 

Praise for The Polish Woman:

 

"A meticulous .. raw study of the relationship between Catholic and Jewish Poles..." ~ The New York Times

 

"Vividly drawn characters ... compelling, combining romance and mystery and reminding us of the difficulty of unearthing personal truths when one of history's great cataclysms has buried them." ~ The Wall Street Journal

 

“A haunting portrait... Strongly evoked ... The understated and moving story of a woman whose memories open so many old wounds." ~ Philadelphia Inquirer

 

 

Praise for Sunrise Shows Late:

 

"A deftly written story, full of danger, intrigue, suspense and passion ..." ~ Christian Science Monitor

 

"An austerely beautiful novel ... love blossoms amid the chaos, rubble and danger in a tale narrated with a calm restraint that adds to the passion. " ~ Publishers Weekly

 

Review

The story was captivating and it was easy to connect to the characters to the reader.

Their stories are interwoven in a tapestry of grit, compassion, mystery, love, and an appreciation for all the paths that life brings.

This is a beautiful love story that resonates with the strength required to confront grief and embrace hope in the face of overwhelming challenges. Through Diane and Luc's journey, readers are reminded that love can flourish even in the direst circumstances, making this a heartfelt and unforgettable read.

About the Author

Eva Mekler is a writer and psychotherapist known for her work in fiction and non-fiction, often exploring themes related to Jewish identity, history, and psychological resilience. She has authored novels as well as books that delve into the psychology and dynamics of the acting profession. One of her well-known books, The New Generation of Acting Teachers, profiles influential acting coaches and explores their techniques and philosophies. 

Mekler’s fiction work frequently draws from Jewish cultural and historical contexts, sometimes addressing the Holocaust and its aftermath. Her novels tend to focus on characters navigating personal and historical trauma, resilience, and identity.

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Romance Feature: ACE (Riptide MC, Book 1) by Anne Kane #mcromance #excerpt #comingsoon #preorder #motorcycleclubromance #rabtbooktours @ChangelingPress @annekane @RABTBookTours

Riptide MC (#1)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: 1/3/25

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

Someone took a shot at my Emma – and signed his own death warrant. No one hurts my woman and lives.

 

Emma:

After witnessing a cold-blooded killing, I run to the only person I can think of who can protect me. Ace is my high school fantasy turned big bad biker. Did I mention sizzling, sexy, and hot? He’s everything I know I should stay away from, but his touch makes me melt and when his lips devour mine, I forget why I shouldn’t let him near me. But he’s more than just a one-night stand. He makes me feel safe. Loved. Wanted. All the things I’ve never had -- and that’s addictive as hell. Ace makes it clear he wants to claim me, make me part of his biker family, and keep me by his side. And I want him. Forever.

 

Ace:

I’ve always had a thing for Emma, but back in high school, she dated my little brother. So I moved on. Joined the Navy SEALs. Re-upped a few times, but when that last mission went south, I knew it was time to bail. Feeling lost and adrift, I came home. And patched into the Riptide MC. Finally felt like I had a home and a family. I didn’t think life could get any better. A knock on my door in the middle of the night changed everything. Emma fell into my arms, terrified and wounded. Some asshole shot my Emma. He may not know it yet, but he just signed his own death warrant. Once I’ve taken care of her, I’m going to convince Emma to stay with me. Forever.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Anne Kane

 

Emma

It was midnight by the time I left work. My shitty excuse for a car had crapped out on me yesterday and transit didn’t run this late, so I had to walk home. Short enough walk, but this wasn’t the safest part of town for a woman alone to traverse after dark. I knew better than to take the shortcut through the park, especially at night. The bad guys came out when the sun went down, clinging to the shadows in the park as they went about their illegal activities. Drug deals, illicit arms sales and who knew what else. Still, that route would cut the length of my walk in half, and after slinging drinks at the bar all night, the temptation was too much to resist.

My aching feet won the argument with my common sense, and I risked it.

It was dark under the towering trees. The heavy branches blocked out the majority of the moonlight, making it feel eerily like the setting of a horror movie. More than half of the lights on the concrete path had been knocked out by kids throwing rocks. I stepped up my pace.

I was halfway through the park when the sound of a gunshot rang out loud in the still night air. I jumped, automatically turning toward the sounds.

In the clearing off to my left side stood a big guy holding a gun. He had it pointed at another guy who had a splash of red spreading from a hole in his chest. The shooter took two more shots, hitting the other guy right between the eyes. The victim crumpled to the ground as blood and brains splattered from the back of his head. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. A thin trickle of blood trailed from the corner of his lips and splashed the ground. In the light of the full moon, I could see the life fading from his eyes as he stared at the man holding the smoking gun.

I slapped my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to stifle a scream. I wasn’t successful. I stood rooted to the spot, my mind trying to process the horror of what I’d just witnessed.

The murderer swiveled and looked straight at me. He was a huge monster of a man, with tattoos covering every available inch of skin on his heavily muscled arms. His chest was wide, and no doubt just as muscled beneath a skintight shirt.

His eyes were cold and hard as he brought the gun around and pointed the deadly weapon straight at me.

Survival instinct kicked in. I turned and ran.

Shots rang out behind me. One. Two. The bullets went wide, the shooter’s aim hindered by the moving target.

Me.

I was the moving target. He was trying to kill me. The third shot scorched a fiery path across my side. When I brought my hand down to my ribs, I could feel sticky dampness oozing from a ragged hole in my jacket. A coppery smell filled the air. Blood.

No time to stop and assess the damage. That wasn’t a warning shot -- it was meant to kill. Hopefully, that was a regulation gun, with a six-shot magazine like you see in the movies. Three shots to commit murder, and three fired at me. The asshole was going to have to reload before he could finish me off.

Enough time for me to escape? I had to hope so. One hand pressed to the throbbing wound on my side, I plunged into the heavy shrubs lining the pathways. I’d be an easier target if I stayed on the paths. Better to get a few scratches. At least it was too dark away from the path to follow the trail of blood I was undoubtedly leaving behind.

The murderer didn’t waste any time coming after me. His progress was marked by heavy thumps of his boot as he charged down the path. Hopefully he hadn’t seen me dart into the bushes. “You can’t escape, you little bitch,” he snarled. “You’re pissing me off, and that’s going to make it worse when I catch up. Give up now and I’ll take it easy on you.”

I doubted that. Considering I’d just watched him kill someone in cold blood, he wasn’t likely to pat me on the head and send me on my way. I paused and crouched down beside a flowering shrub. My heart beat so loud it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. Looking around, I tried to figure out the shortest way out of the park.

“Did you see which way she went?”

“No, but she didn’t pass us, so she must be heading for the road.”

Shit! There were two of them. I hadn’t seen a second man, but then again, I hadn’t stuck around long enough to take in details.

“Makes sense. We need to stop her.” The sound of branches snapping filled the air.

“These damn bushes are thick.” Even muttering to himself, the murderer sounded closer. And cold-blooded. As if he were discussing an annoying insect, not a human being. “You recognize the bitch?”

There was a long pause. “She did look familiar. Maybe works one of the bars in the brewery district? I think she might be a bartender. That shock of red hair should make her easy to find.”

“Pity we didn’t get a pic.”

That remark was met with a derisive snort. “If we had time to get a picture, we would have had time to end her and solve the problem.”

“Do you think she can ID us?”

“I doubt it. It’s dark enough out, even with the damn moon shining and she only saw us for a few seconds. I’m not even sure she saw both of us.”

“Doesn’t matter. The boss ain’t going to be happy with a witness running loose. We need to find her and wrap up the loose ends.”

I had no illusions about how they intended to wrap up the loose end, meaning me. I needed to get out of here and call the cops.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to move. I veered to my left, away from the two thugs. Weaving my way as quietly as I could between the ornamental shrubbery, I stayed low to the ground. I didn’t dare stand up and make myself an easy target. That damn full moon was not helping me now. The thought of being outlined against the sky terrified me, and the bullet wound on my side hurt like hell.

The distance between me and the assassination squad widened. They were following the path, but headed in the other direction, presumably directly out of the park. Which meant I needed to circle around and exit by a different route.

Thug number two raised his voice. “Come on out and discuss this, girl. It’s not what you think. We can explain.”

That would be interesting. How did he think he could explain shooting someone at point blank range? And the fact that he’d taken a few potshots at me didn’t inspire much trust on my part. Not to mention their talk of ending the problem, with me being said problem.

I worked my way in the opposite direction, lengthening the distance between me and them. It felt like forever before I reached the edge of the park, not too far from where I’d originally entered. Seems I’d been walking in a circle.

I took a careful look around to make sure it was safe to emerge before scurrying across the road and into the sheltering darkness of an alley. I reached into my pocket for my cell phone to call for help. Not that I had a whole pile of friends who could come to my rescue, but the cops needed to know there was a dead body in the park. Maybe, if they were quick enough, they could catch the murderous twosome before they escaped the area.

Crap! The phone wasn’t in my pocket. I knew I’d tucked it in there when I left work, which meant it had fallen out somewhere in the park.

An icy river of fear trickled its way down my spine. If the murderers found it, they’d know who I was. Sure, there was a password, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think it couldn’t be hacked, and guys who committed murder wouldn’t balk at illegally hacking a phone. Even if they didn’t manage to bypass the password, my home screen picture showed me grinning like an idiot while standing in front of the bar where I worked, the name of the bar clearly visible above my head. I thought it was cute when I tagged it as the home screen picture. It might as well say, come and get me!

Dumb. Dumb and Dumber.

Now what? I couldn’t very well go home and wait for the bad guys to figure out where to find me, and I definitely couldn’t go back to the bar.

The rustling of bushes in the distance made me jump. Sitting here stewing wasn’t helping any. Sooner or later, those guys would double back to find me.

Where to go presented an issue. It wasn’t like I had a loving family waiting to protect me. I only knew one person who might be able to help me. Then again, I’d dated his little brother in high school. I may have burnt that bridge behind me.

Justin Maclean and I had been close once upon a time. Friends close, not lovers close, although we had dated. It kept the other guys away. It was a tough neighborhood, and we’d had each other’s backs. I’d had a crush on his older brother James though. Tall, dark and brooding. Just what every teenaged girl longs for.

Turned out the younger Maclean and I had very different dreams.

 

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

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Book Tour: Camp Coffee by Bob Sullivan Jr. #bookreview #nonfiction #memoir #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

Tales of a Wyoming Cowboy

 

Memoir / Nonfiction

Date Published: October 16, 2006

Publisher: The Lowell Press

 

Camp Coffee is not just about a person-Grant Beck-and his stories, it's about a way of life-the cowboy way of life. Most people will never feel the warmth of a high mountain campfire or experience the eye-burning smoke wafting from the branding coals. Few will have any firsthand experience of what the American cowboy was all about. Lots of books have been penned about lots of cowboys, both fictitous and real. But few cowboys have touched as many people in the encouraging way that Grant Beck has through his chosen profession. This is a must-have volume for all that are drawn to the essence of the western experience.

Review

This was a wonderful book about a real life cowboy and the ups and downs that come with that life. It's well done! 

About the Book

Bob Sullivan, Jr. of Kansas City dreamed of being a cowboy from his earliest years. Not until an abrupt disillusionment with college athletics in 1975 did he drop out of school and move to Wyoming to pursue his dream at age 19. There he met and worked for Grant Beck at the Two Bar Spear Ranch in Pinedale, WY which had a life-changing impact on the author's life. His experiences in Wyoming and subsequent relationship with Grant Beck over the next 30 years inspired Sullivan to share the remarkable story of Grant Beck with others.

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Sci-Fi Feature: The Others by T. C. Weber #scifi #actionadventure #giveaway #rabtbooktours @savethereefs @RABTBookTours

Sci-Fi / Action Adventure

Date Published: 12-25-2024

Publisher: Freedom Thorn Press

 

When a corpse with webbed feet and other aquatic adaptations washes ashore during a hurricane, the county medical examiner calls in marine biologist Will Myers for assistance. The deceased’s mysterious sister, Andreia, claims the body and asks Will to help figure out how her brother died. Will and Andreia bond over shared tragedies and a yearning to heal a dying ocean as they seek to learn how her brother spent his final days.

Andreia brings Will to her undersea home, part of a hidden civilization inhabited by smugglers, hackers, treasure hunters, and traders—all members of a different species, driven to the edge of extinction by human diseases and climate change. As feelings between the two grow, the investigation into her brother’s death leads to a sinister plot by a fanatical cabal. Together, Will and Andreia must find a way to save both humanity and the ocean without imperiling the existence of her species.

About the Author

As an ecologist who grew up diving and fishing in the Florida Keys, Mr. Weber drew on his knowledge of the setting and relevant science to bring it to life. His cyberpunk novel Sleep State Interrupt (See Sharp Press) was a finalist for the 2017 Compton Crook award for best first speculative fiction novel. Two sequels, The Wrath of Leviathan and Zero-Day Rising, followed, as well as an alternate history novel, Born in Salt; a post-apocalyptic horror novella, The Survivors; and a satire of local government, The Council. He has also had numerous peer-reviewed scientific papers and book chapters published. Mr. Weber is a member of Poets & Writers, the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association, the Horror Writers Association, and the Maryland Writers Association.

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Self-Help Feature: The Quiet Joy of Simply Being by Aiy'm Fellman #selfhelp #spiritual #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

Discovering the Peace, Joy, and Happiness You Already Are

Self-Help / Spiritual

Date Published: November 7, 2024

Publisher: MindStir Media

 

The Quiet Joy of Simply Being takes us on a journey of discovering we are already the peace, contentment, joy, happiness, and love we seek. These attributes of our True Nature are not found in what we do, things we acquire, status we attain, or even our state of mind. Rather, they are the ever-present essence of who we are.

About the Author

I go by the name Aiy'm, which is pronounced I-Yim. I live in Boulder, Colorado with my wife Donna and cat Te'a. I am retired. I'm fairly active physically mostly hiking in the Boulder foothills and Rocky Mountains, gravel biking, skiing, and doing yard work - actually, since I enjoy it I consider it yard play. Though I enjoy all those activities, what is of most importance to me is spiritual awakening as such I love being out in nature, sitting by a creek sipping tea, meditating and journaling. I also built a tiny rustic space in my backyard for that purpose. I call it a tea-mitage. Kind of like a hermitage. I call the journaling I do Writing Passing Clouds as what I write about is more about the inward journey and not what I did during the day.

I have been regularly journaling for over 40 years. As I mentioned above, my journaling is about the inward journey of spiritual awakening. In fact, I would say that journaling has been my main ally in this spiritual pursuit, even more so than meditation and retreats. About 10 years ago I asked myself what is it about journaling that I get so much from. Certainly, I learned a lot about myself. I have come to know the way my mind works, my perceived limitations, my behavioral and emotional patterns and conditionings, and so on and on and on. But, what I came to realize what was most important about my journalings was not what I learned about myself, rather, through journaling I shifted my perspective to that of an observer and from that perspective I was able to dis-entangle and dis-identify from my conditioned thinking mind and emotions. This is very liberating. I call it the First Great Freedom. In this freedom from the conditioned thinking mind and emotions, there is a deep sense of peace, fulfillment, and happiness. I also see this shift of perspective as the first step or phase of the spiritual journey to self-realization.

My book, The Quiet Joy of Simply Being, began as being about my journaling process but morphed into being about discovering the peace, happiness, fulfillment and love we already are.

 

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Poetry Feature: Trifold Mirror by Chidiebere Eze #giveaway #faithbased #poetry #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

Poetic Reflections on the One Who Saved Me

 

Faith-Based, Inspirational Poetry

Date Published: 08-11-2024

Publisher: God Manifest Publishing

 

TRIFOLD MIRROR is a collection of personal, insightful poems that reflect on the intentionality and individuality of the author's relationship with God. The poems apply biblical principles, which help demystify the complexities of Christian doctrines and empower readers to study the Word of God for themselves.

This contemporary collection is inspired by the Holy Spirit and addresses different life stages (as seen in the "hood" section - which features dark pages in the book). Each poem has its own personality, emotion, teaching, and Bible verse to reinforce the poem.

About the Author

Dr. Eze is a writer with a passion for storytelling, traveling, and providing need-based scholarships to African students. She holds a doctorate in Pharmacy, a certificate in Entrepreneurship and Innovation, and a bachelor's in Biomedical Sciences. She is excited about her debut poetry collection and can't wait to share it with you!

 

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Romance Feature: Head Over Heels by Gale Stanley #romance #contemporaryromance #preorder #excerpt #comingsoon #rabtbooktours @changelingpress @RABTBookTours

 

 

Contemporary Romance, Second Chances

Date Published: December 27, 2024

 

 

One blind date and I fall head over heels. Then he ghosts me, leaving me brokenhearted and pregnant.

 

Aaron: When I meet Genesis on a blind date I fall head over heels. She’s younger than me and I know I don’t deserve her, but I want to see her again. But before that can happen, I’m arrested, handcuffed, and imprisoned for something I didn’t do. Thinking about Genesis is the only thing that keeps me from going crazy—until I find out she might be the one who framed me.

Genesis: I hate blind dates, but I change my mind when Aaron shows up at my door. He’s perfect in every way and I’m smitten at first sight. I can’t wait to see him again, but then he ghosts me, and disappears off the face of the Earth. Everyone tells me to forget him, but it’s not that easy. I’m head over heels for him –- and pregnant with his baby.

 

 

EXCERPT

The shop clerk raved over my figure. “You can wear anything,”

While I called myself skinny, she called me svelte. “You could model,” she added over her shoulder as she pulled dresses off the rack for me to try on. She deposited them in the dressing room and told me to call her if I needed help.

Sighing, I undressed down to my cotton panties and bra, and inspected myself in the full-length mirror. Not much up top. I hope he won’t be disappointed.

Fuck him. It was just a blind date.

For the hundredth time I cursed myself for accepting this date. Going through all this hassle and expense for some loser was beyond ridiculous. I’d rather get a root canal. The only reason I hadn’t bowed out was because my mechanic had arranged it. The last time I brought my car in, he jokingly said that I should date a grease monkey like him. It was how he’d met his wife. He followed that with, “Hey, I know just the guy.” And I’d let him talk me into it.

Still, experience had taught me that blind dates never turned out well. Of course, most of my experience was thanks to my father, the District Attorney, trying to control my life like he controlled everything in the city.

I couldn’t even count the times he’d had his secretary fix me up with political hacks that would further his career. When I started ghosting them, he orchestrated chance meetings at the endless cocktail parties he threw for his political cronies. He planned to run for office someday and having a daughter married to a politico and campaigning for him would be a major boon to his career. The whole thing felt really creepy and manipulative. Nothing was more personal than who you fell in love with. Besides, my father and I were politically diverse. I would never vote for his bootlickers, let alone marry one. His attempts to play puppet master were doomed to failure from the beginning and a major reason why I moved out of his house and into the Dollhouse.

That’s what I named my micro apartment in the Signature Suites building. That sounded a lot swankier than it really was. My little piece of heaven was only four hundred square feet; one-room with a sitting slash sleeping area, kitchenette, and bathroom, but it was all mine.

I turned my attention back to the dresses. The good thing about having small breasts was that I could wear just about anything. The bad thing was that most men love big tits. I was enlightened when I turned sixteen. My father had given me a check and told me to get breast implants. Hurt and disgusted, I spent the money on a creative writing class and started a blog. I learned early on to do the opposite of whatever he wanted. If only my mother hadn’t gotten cancer and died when I was three. I hardly remembered her. Wiping away the tears, I vowed not to think about that now.

After slipping a dress over my head, I made a face in the mirror. “Ugh.” The hem hit the floor and the slinky material made me look flatter. It went back on the hanger, and I tried on number two. Too short, too black, too dressy. It was something my father’s secretary would wear to one of his political functions. I glanced at my watch and started to panic. I had no time to hit another store.

The green floral print with a halter top seemed promising. I tied it behind my neck, and twirled. Feminine and flowy, the hem landed between my knees and ankles. The bare back and built-in bra treaded a thin line between classy and slutty, but the dress flattered my figure and I had white strappy sandals that would work with it. The more I checked it out in the mirror, the more I liked it.

I looked at the tag. The price blew my mind. I hated spending money I didn’t have. My closet was full of jeans, leggings, and business casual for the photo ops I used to take with my father. If I cooperated with Bruce, I’d have a bigger apartment and lots of clothes, everything I could want, but I’d be selling my soul. Since moving out of the big brownstone, I’d been happier than I’ve ever been.

I stared at my reflection. I’d have to put it on a charge card. Is it worth it? It had been a long time since I bought myself something new and I looked good in it. That settled it. Fuck the price. It was indeed worth it. I changed quickly, and looked for the saleslady.

My car was still down the street where I left it. I’d heard that car thieves preferred old Toyotas for parts, but even they weren’t interested in my 2009 Corolla. Maybe the leaking fluid puddling under it warned them off. Shit. I wondered if I should continue to fix it or if it was time to ditch it. I just hated to cut the cord. The car was paid for and I couldn’t afford a new one.

I started it up and headed for home. I was a panicker, so when the car started shaking and vibrating, I freaked out. At least it didn’t die until I pulled in front of my apartment building.

Shit, shit, shit. I should have said no to the dress and canceled my date. All that money could have paid for car repairs. Those times when I doubted my decisions I would go to Kate for a second opinion.

Kate was my bf, my confidant, and my partner in crime. She was a voice of reason in my chaotic life. She was older than me and whip smart. Oddly enough I’d met her because of my father. Well, indirectly. Kate was a secretary in the mayor’s office. Two years ago, we met at a boring political function. All night we laughed at the pompous civil servants and public employees walking around with sticks up their asses. Including my father. Turned out that, despite our age gap, we had a lot in common, starting with the same sense of humor. We both liked good books and Sex in the City, and we could talk about anything and everything. Even when we haven’t spoken in a while, we could just pick up right where we left off.

Best of all, Kate didn’t judge me. Being older, she’d already been through the same things I was going through now. If two people were compatible then why not be friends, because age is just a number. At twenty-one I’ve already met so many assholes that I was super picky about friends and lovers. I didn’t have many of either because I believed in quality over quantity.

Kate picked up after several rings. “Hi, girlfriend. Getting ready for your big night?”

“I don’t know. My car died. I’m thinking I should cancel.”

“Do you want to cancel?”

“I’m torn. I already bought a dress, but I could return it.”

“Go for it, girl. Do you want to end up like me? Thirty-fucking-five on my next birthday and still single. Fear of forty is a real thing. Call him back and ask him to pick you up.”

“I can’t do that. He might be a serial killer. The whole idea was to meet in a public place.”

“But weren’t you fixed up by someone you know?”

“Yeah, my mechanic. He said he might be shooting himself in the foot because his friend is a mechanic, too, but he’s willing to lose my business if I like his buddy.”

There was a long silence.

“Kate? You still there?”

“Yeah. Just thinking. And I think you should keep the date. You might miss out on something good. Just keep me on speed dial, in case your plans change again, or you need me to rescue you. I’ll be home all night.”

“Kate, you’re the best.”

I felt so much better. Kate was right as usual. I really needed a night out and knowing she was a phone call away made me feel safer. I called Aaron and he immediately offered to pick me up. So far, so good. Please God, don’t let him be an asshole.

 

About the Author

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

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

 

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Teen Nonfiction Feature: Teenage Girl Power: Practicing Journaling and Mindfulness #giveaway #nonfiction #teen #youngadult #journaling #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

Practicing Journaling and Mindfulness

Teen & Young Adult Inspirational & Personal Growth

Date Published: 11-25-2021

Are you ready to take control of your future? High school flies by, and before you know it, the world is asking what’s next. For many teen girls, this can be overwhelming—but Teenage Girl Power is here to guide you toward confidence, clarity, and a plan for success.

With tools to build self-esteem, strategies for mapping your goals, and insights to navigate emotional roadblocks, this book empowers you to become the successful woman you were born to be. Writing down your goals is the first step to turning dreams into reality and, before you know it, you’ll go from high school classrooms to the CEO of your dreams!

Inside Teenage Girl Power, discover:

The Ultimate Success Blueprint: Step-by-step guidance for setting goals and avoiding the feeling of being “left behind.”

Motivational Quotes & Practices: Get back on track with exercises that help build confidence and independence.

Emotional Mastery Tools: Learn to understand, control, and channel your emotions effectively and stay drama-free.

Powerful Strategies for Moving Forward with Confidence: Pinpoint what’s holding you backand learn how to focus on your goals and avoid unnecessary distractions.

Personal Power & Self-Belief Tools: Embrace your unique strengths and design a future that reflects who you truly are.

 

Whether you’re just starting high school or nearly graduating, Teenage Girl Power turns your dreams into actionable plans. It’s time to stop worrying and start building a future on your terms. Full of empowering insights and practical exercises, this guide transforms uncertainty into purpose and puts you in control.

 

About the Author

Adriana Roșca is an author, mother, and mentor dedicated to empowering young girls to unlock their full potential and blossom into the remarkable women they are destined to become.

Through her writing, personal transformation, and peak performance strategies, Adriana teaches that success and happiness are attainable for everyone, regardless of their current challenges and circumstances. She emphasizes the importance of cultivating a powerful and resilient mindset as essential tools for living a happy and exceptional life.

Adriana holds a master’s degree in Health Communication from Northwestern University and currently thrives in clinical research. Born in Transylvania, a region nestled among the Carpathian Mountains and famous for the legend of Count Dracula, she draws inspiration from her distinctive heritage.

 

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Website

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TikTok: @adrianarosca6

 

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