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Fast Times Big City by Shelly FromeFast Times Big City by Shelly Frome


Publisher:  Boutique of Quality Books (Feb 6, 2024)
Category: Manhattan Mystery, Mystery/Suspense
Tour dates: February 26-March 25, 2024
ISBN: ‎ 979-8886330267
Available in Print and ebook, Approx. 330 pages

Fast Times Big City

Description Fast Times Big City by Shelly Frome


In a bind, Bud Palmer finds himself at the crossroads when just about everything was on the verge.

Like most people, Bud Palmer felt this was just another day. Though the era was drawing to a close, he assumed his life as a sports columnist in the subtropics, in keeping with the benign fifties itself, would go on as predictable as ever. But that particular autumn morning he was thrust into a caper that was totally beyond him, forced him to leave Miami and take the train to Manhattan, and suddenly found everything in this restless “Big Apple” was up for grabs, on the brink, at a dicey turning point.

Praise for Shelly Frome


“This is a great mystery that had me guessing at what was really happening. I was sucked in and held tight until the reveal. A couple great twists and turns had me thrown off balance and guessing the whole time.” (Moon Games by Shelly From)-JBrounder Reviews

“It is full of action, adventure, mystery and suspense. It is not one that I could easily predict. The twists and turns kept on the edge of my seat. I never knew what would happen next.” (Moon Games by Shelly Frome)-AmyBooksy, Locks, Hooks, and Books

“The cover of this book shows what looks like a beautiful and peaceful place to live, but looks can be deceiving. Lies, bribery, and deceit are running rampant in this little town.  Twists and turns are around every corner. Well written mystery”(Secluded Village Murders by Shelly Frome)- Lisa’s Writopia

“An entertaining story that has enough quirky characters, intrigue, suspense, humor, and drama that easily draws the reader into Emily’s amateur sleuth adventure. This cozy mystery is full of devious plot twists and turns that will easily keep you guessing. The Secluded Village Murders is an intriguing whodunit tale that cozy mystery fans will want to add to their reading list.” (Secluded Village Murders by Shelly Frome)- Kathleen Higgins-Anderson, Jersey Girl Book Reviews
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Excerpt Fast Times Big City by Shelly Frome


The looming billboards were so massive, in contrast the Times Square sign jutting out of the lamppost was totally eclipsed. As if it might have been a relic from a long-ago era before everything had given way.  Here, high above the rooftops to Bud’s right, was a massive Pepsi bottle doing its best to block out the sky, not to be outdone by an equally outsized bottle top on its side. Further ahead as the Square verged into a tip of a triangle, other billboards joined the fray, starting with a domineering Admiral Television and Appliances sign, topped by a Canadian Club whiskey sign, topped by a Chevrolet sign.  All but eclipsed, a lesser billboard around the corner advertised the musical West Side Story—the very same black-and-white logo with the girl ecstatically racing by the tenements pulling her boyfriend along. Other logos and marquees took part by marking the street entrances to buildings so that the Statler Hotel sign didn’t stand a chance. 

At the same time, fighting off the prospect of becoming overwhelmed, Bud couldn’t help wondering if Amy had been among the rushing pedestrians who had gotten off the buses and trains. Had they too gotten wind of small town dreams—that legendary call of the lady carnival barker promising never-ending opportunities?

~*~

Getting as overtired as can be, he opted for the radio once again and the show tunes station. Within minutes another song from West Side Story came filtering into his room. This time the star-crossed lovers put the images on the poster to words, yearning for “a special place,” claiming if they held on tight they could take each other there. Somehow, some day, somewhere.

Even after he switched the radio off, the sweet melody and yearning lyrics stayed with him. But soon faded and dovetailed into the dread of what might await him under these pressing circumstances. He finally let go of it all and sank into a fitful sleep. 

©Shelly Frome

About Shelly FromeShelly Frome


Award winning author, Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at UConn, a former professional actor, and a writer of crime novels and books on theater and film. He also is a features writer for Gannett Publications.

His fiction includes Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Lilac Moon, Twilight of the Drifter, Tinseltown Riff, Murder Run, Moon Games, The Secluded Village Murders and Miranda and the D-Day Caper. Among his works of non-fiction are The Actors Studio: A History, a guide to playwriting and one on screenwriting, Shadow of the Gypsy is his latest foray into the world of crime and the amateur sleuth.

He lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina.

Website: http://www.shellyfrome.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shellyfrome
Twitter: https://twitter.com/shellyFrome

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Fast Times Big City by Shelly Frome

Kiss of Frost and Flame by Ken CzechKiss Of Frost And Flame by Ken Czech

Publisher:  Fireship Press, (June 22, 2023)
Category: Historical Fiction, Romance/Action/Adventure, Romance/Historical/Medieval, War & Military
Tour Dates January 15-February 8, 20223
ISBN: 978-1611794113
Available in Print and ebook, 304 pages

Kiss of Frost and Flame

Description Kiss of Frost and Flame by Ken Czech


When Defending the Homeland Means Defending Your Heart.

Siberia 1581. When Umey, a young outcast woman, stumbles on a ravaged
village, she uncovers a plot that threatens to devastate her beloved
homeland. It’s furs—soft gold—the invading Cossacks crave, and the
greediest of them is Yermak, the man who saved her life and raised
her.

Armed with fearsome muskets, the Cossacks plunge deeper into the
Siberian forest, crushing the tribal folk who stand in their way.
Although prejudices are arrayed against her, Umey emerges as a tribal
leader, albeit a reluctant one. She and Alexey, a Russian soldier who
has seen too much war, are soon caught in an unfolding crucible of
destruction where their courage and incipient love will be tested in a
final collision with Yermak and his horde.

Praise For Kiss of Frost and Flame by Ken Czech


“I was immediately drawn in by the atmospheric and descriptive effort that Czech put into his writing to bring the wilds of Siberia to life. I was fascinated by the customs and tribal people as well as the beauty of nature … Umey’s gentle but unwavering courage makes her a protagonist whom you grow to feel deeply for during the adventure. Overall, Kiss of Frost and Flame is a work that fans of historical adventures and cross-cultural writing are sure to enjoy as much as I did.”-K. C. Finn,  author of Caecilius Rex and The Book of Shade

Praise for Ken Czech


“… a truly excellent novel that readers will simply devour.”-K. C. Finn, author of the Caecilius Rex  series-THE TSAR’S LOCKET

“There were twist and turns throughout, but the climactic twist at the end really caught me off guard.”-Lesley Jones, for Reades’ Favorite-THE TSAR’S LOCKET

“I was drawn to this book due to a passionate interest in British history and a passing one in Russian history. The author does an outstanding job of weaving fact and fiction together in a backdrop of colorful and accurate description of the international culture of the first Elizabethan Era.
Those who shun romantic novels should not do so to this work. There are surprises and intrigue aplenty to thrill those who crave a bit of adventure. The history lover will be presented with information they may have never encountered.”- Caroleinwv, Amazon Review-THE TSAR’S LOCKET

“The journey is long and arduous over war-torn Europe from the fields of The Netherlands to the frozen marshes of Poland and Russia. Secrets are revealed, friendships are made and lost, terrible sacrifices are made, and by the thinnest of thinnest hopes Blunt finally makes it to the Promised Land. And then the locket is opened to reveal—
Well, I’ll leave that to you to find out. The journey itself is fascinating, a tour of 1580s Europe with its wars and religious squabbling, the fights over the dominance of one man by another, the lust for power of one nation over another. “-stephenmatlock.com, THE TSAR’S LOCKET

“Fans…of the Victorian era will find this book a gem.” – Historical Novels Review, BEYOND THE RIVER OF SHAME

“It’s a rollicking read … ” – Dr. Jim Casada, Sporting Classics Magazine, BEYOND THE RIVER OF SHAME

Excerpt Kiss Of Frost And Flame by Ken Czech


 

 Chapter One

A horse’s whinny pierced the smoke, causing Umey to flinch. Shadowy figures stirred beyond that nightmare mound and lurched toward her. She stared, fearing the dead had come to life, then stumbled backward, tripped, and landed on her backside with a startled, “Oomph!” Her arrow flittered harmlessly to the ground.

“It’s a heathen spy!” one of the shapes bellowed. “Shoot the bastard!”

The man’s words tumbled through her brain. He had spoken not in the Tatar tongue as she expected, but in Russian, Mama’s language. Great Mother! Did it mean Russians had killed Russians?

Umey scrambled to her feet and bolted toward the forest. A musket roared, its ball whistling overhead. She darted left to swerve behind trees and keep their boughs and trunks between the burning village and her. Another musket boomed.

Horses neighed and more voices shouted. Whoever had raided the camp and massacred its inhabitants now chased her! She sped down an animal trail and through a snarl of branches and brambles where horsemen would have difficulty guiding their mounts. Thorns plucked at her panitsa. A low-hanging bough snagged her hair and threw her off balance. Without warning, the thick brush ahead of her crackled and a tannish bulk heaved up. Liquid brown eyes wide with fear and tail upraised, a stag crashed away.

The upturned roots of a fallen pine offered a hiding place. Umey dropped to a knee behind the roots. Afraid her gasps might alert those who tracked her, she buried her mouth against her forearm and tried to think. While in the village, she had caught no more than a glimpse of the horsemen. A few wore the conical helmets favored by the Tatars and at least two of the raiders carried bows. However, there was no mistaking the roar of muskets and the whine and crack of lead balls clipping tree branches.

Shadows in the forest lengthened, then faded as the evening deepened. It never properly got dark during the summer in Sibir; the sky tinted more like burnt brass and indigo until the sun again peeked above the eastern horizon. White nights, that was what the Russians called the short night hours. How she wished for a different season when darkness and deep shadows would better hide her

Umey strained to listen above the pounding of her heart. The mounted men had turned south, their clamor dwindling to a murmur. They undoubtedly followed the stag she flushed, thinking it was her. Certain it was safe to leave the pine root sanctuary, she sucked in a deep breath and took a single step. A spruce grouse suddenly exploded from a thicket a few dozen yards away, the whir of its wings warning her to stay put. Something had disturbed the bird—something that moved cautiously across the ravine she had traversed earlier. A quick peek between the roots revealed two men on foot and armed with muskets threading their way along the path of broken branches she had made. Soon they would be up to where she knelt.

            The earthy smell of the roots from the overturned pine filled her nostrils. A nerve in her thigh twitched. Grit had gotten inside her mouth and she longed to spit it out … but not now! To run or make any kind of noise would attract their attention.

            Another grouse frightened by the intruders thundered away.

            Muscles tensed, Umey crouched lower and risked notching a new arrow. The two pursuers, more shapes in the gloom than men, halted on the edge of the ravine. One of them chuckled and waved his interlocked fingers in a parody of the grouses’ flight. The other man, gray-bearded, hushed him to silence and pointed at the knot of roots that hid her.

            The raider nearest her, a younger man sporting a single reddish rope of braided hair, loosened his fingers and ambled toward the pine. “You are seeing things, Brother Petrov,” he called to his older comrade. “This is nothing more than a fallen tree.” 

            “Keep your voice down and check behind the roots,” Petrov growled in reply. “We cannot let that spy escape to tell others of what they have seen.”

            The young raider sauntered closer, his musket resting lazily on his shoulder.

             Please go away, Umey silently begged. She glimpsed the cloud of his breath puffing into the cooling night air just beyond the network of barren branches and roots. Another step and he would see her. No more waiting! Launching herself upright, she drew the arrow to her ear. In that instant, the man’s eyes bulged with surprise. He yelped and struggled to raise his musket. The gun’s match flickered. Her bow sang and he fell to his knees, an arrow quivering in his chest.

            Hunched over to make a smaller target, she scurried away. She knew she hit him, but it was a snap shot without time to aim. If she paused, his companion would be on her in a trice.

            Petrov’s musket roared, its ball whizzing past her ear so close she well-nigh felt its kiss of death. Staying low, she veered left to keep a cluster of pines between them. A dozen more steps and she risked a glance over her shoulder—a glance that nearly cost her life. Petrov had retrieved his fallen comrade’s musket and aimed. Its muzzle flamed red and its bark resounded among the trees. The heavy musket ball tore through a pine branch thick enough to partially deflect it. It scored Umey’s side, nicking a rib. Her wild howl of pain echoed. Hand pressed over the wound, she dodged behind trees, leapt over a log, and raced away as fast and hard as possible. Petrov cursed while he thrashed among brush and branches after her.

            She dared not look back again.

(c)Ken Czech

 

About Ken CzechKen Czech


Ken Czech is a retired history professor whose passion has turned to writing fiction.

His previous novels include BEYOND THE RIVER OF SHAME (All Things That Matter Press, 2017); LAST DANCE IN KABUL (Fireship Press, 2018); and THE TSAR’S LOCKET (Fireship Press, 2020). As a member of the Historical Novels Society, he has attended HNS conferences and workshops.

Website: https://www.kennethczech.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thehistoricalnovelist/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ken-czech

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Kiss of Frost and Flame by Ken Czech

Never For Glory by Lloyd LofthouseNever for Glory: Josh Kavanagh Thriller, Book 2 by Lloyd Lofthouse

Publisher: Three Clover Press (June 25, 2023)
Category: Action, Suspense, Thriller, Love Story (but NOT a romance)
Tour dates: January 11-February 22, 2024

ISBN: 979-8988505709
Available in Print and ebook, 293 pages

Never for Glory

Description Never For Glory by Lloyd Lofthouse


He’d give his life for his country. But this time, it’s personal.

Josh Kavanagh burns for vengeance. Parachuting with no backup into a lawless area of southern Venezuela, the Special Ops legend is intent on hunting down the rogue agent who put his wife in a coma. But as soon as he gets feet on the ground, the loyal protector discovers he’s dropped into a trap… and a sex trafficking operation run by the Russian mob.

Fighting his way out and desperate to rescue the victims with minimal body count, Josh plans a daring raid on a remote ranch. But after learning the identity of the mastermind behind the hit on a former lover, the talented operative takes the law into his own hands on a hell-bent solo mission for revenge…

Will Josh’s single-minded thirst for justice finish on the wrong side of a gun barrel?

Never for Glory is the pulse-pounding second book in the Josh Kavanagh thriller series. If you like determined heroes, tough conflict ripped from the headlines, and page-turning action, then you’ll love Lloyd Lofthouse’s pursuit of payback.

Excerpt Never For Glory by Lloyd Lofthouse

From Never for Glory CH. 28

He thought the mess they were in was his fault. Wanting to catch the monster that almost killed Rachel, he’d carelessly rushed into a mission without one of his special ops teams and no backup plans. He’d never done that before. That recklessness had almost gotten Mia, Adrienne and the others killed, and this shit-show wasn’t over yet.

His stomach was tied in knots and ached. It also didn’t help that his mouth tasted awful from the coffee beans. With him as useless baggage, the odds were against her making it to the coast. It was time to say goodbye and send her on her way. He didn’t see another choice. He didn’t have to lie to her… much. All he had to do was convince her to go to the coast alone and meet The Oath Group Team on the trawler.

“What’s taking so long?” he called, hating the sound of his feeble voice.

“You will see,” she replied.

“I want to talk to you.”

“So, talk.”

“To your face.”

Porra de merda,” she cursed. “No time for this.”

Jesus, he thought, she sounded like someone on a special ops team. God, he was going to miss her. Then he laughed, grimacing from pain as he did so. Once he was dead, he would miss no one. That cursed emotion was for the living, the friends and family that might grieve after he was gone. He knew what that was like. He still grieved, survivor’s guilt, for all the team members he’d lost.

He didn’t fear death, but unbidden memories of his SERE training had triggered a lot of lost sleep over the years, often waking up drenched in sweat, desperately gasping for air. The only person he’d talked to about what happened during Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training was Dr. Tate. It was one of those courses you wanted to forget that refused to leave you alone when you slept.

During SERE, the red team had captured him and waterboarded him in a shed with black widows, their webs clouding the ceiling, crowded with eggs, hundreds of spiders hanging there watching. When he wasn’t strapped to that chair with the cloth bag over his head thinking he’d die as they poured water over his face, there was the loud poetry and music filling that freezing, bare concrete cell so he couldn’t sleep. Sometimes, when he awoke in the dark from one of those flashbacks, he heard that freaky recording of Boots, a poem by Rudyard Kipling, or Throbbing Gristle’s Post-punk crap, taking him back, shivering on the wet concrete, praying for silence, begging God for the peace that came with death.

That’s why on missions, he always carried a pill and reserved one pistol round in case he lost or couldn’t reach the pea-sized cyanide capsule. If SERE wasn’t the real thing, he didn’t want to find out what was.

And with all the top secret shit he knew, there was no way he’d risk becoming a prisoner and propaganda tool for his country’s enemies. If he’d been with one of his teams, they would’ve carried him out, even if he was dead. They’d all been through SERE, and knew what each of them would do to avoid capture, explaining why special ops teams will fight to the death against overwhelming odds.

“What you want?” she asked, opening his door, bringing him back from those past horrors. 

Breathing slowly, he looked her in the eyes. “Show me you still know the morse code I taught you.”

With a sigh, she fished in a pocket and took out the small laser light and showed him she knew what to flash at the trawler. “Now, I go back to work.” 

“Not yet. When my team picks you up, they’ll take care of you. I already made the arrangements. I want you to know you’re going to be safe in your new life. Cat and Clay will treat you like family.”

Since losing the cyanide in the Toyota, when the truck exploded at the roadblock, he had no choice but to use the Sig Sauer, right after he set the truck on fire to burn his body to charcoal. Leaving no evidence that might be traced back to him and The Oath Group.

Clearly irritated by his silence, she placed both fists on her hips and repeated. “No time for this!”

Unbidden, his eyes filled with tears, and his nose started leaking. “You’re not making this easy, okay?” His voice cracked; tears blurring his vision. Good God, why did his fucking emotions have to betray him and turn this farewell into a melodrama?

“I’m trying to say goodbye,” he continued, forcing the words out. “The odds are against you making it if you have to lug me through these mountains to reach the coast. That’s why you have to go alone.” Now was the time for the little lie. “After you link up with the team, you can bring some of them back to get me. That wristwatch will guide you to this spot.”

Her silence wasn’t what he’d expected, along with her angry expression. Why wasn’t she arguing with him? Damn! He wanted—no, needed—a different parting, one that at least ended with a hug or handshake. He tried one more time. “If we don’t see each other again, I want you to know that you have earned my deepest respect. I’m proud of you!”

She continued glaring at him. “Finish it, puta de cu punk,” she said, spitting the words at him like shards of ice. “You lie!”

That shocked him. Drying up the tears. “Okay,” he said, fighting anger, wondering why she’d insulted him like that.

Adrienne reached into a pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets. “I’m not stupid, idiota,” she said, …

Praise Patriot Oath (The Josh Kavanagh Thrillers, Book 1) by Lloyd Lofthouse

“The writing is fantastic, and the characters are very well-developed.  Although this is a great work of fiction, if you are a conservative, a Christian, or a Trump supporter, you probably don’t want to read it.”-Lisa’s Writopia

“The author did a fine job of fleshing out his characters. Overall, the story carries you in fine style toward the conclusion. It gets a bit gory at the climax but with the news stories we see today on the television and internet, it’s not uncommon to see these things. I understand that there will be another book in the series called Never For Glory and this reader would be interested in seeing how it picks up the storyline.-Marion, Moonlight Musings

“a fascinating storyline that jumps out on the first page and does not quit giving till the last. The action is incredible with lots of new gadgets and toys for the guys to play with. The mystery and intrigue keep redlining and blowing off the top. The best part is the descriptions and details that Lloyd brings to us to put us right in the middle of the action, so don’t forget to breathe while you’re reading! Certainly, can’t wait for the next book from this exciting author! An amazing read from a former US Marine and now giving us a sample of his knowledge.”-DeeGott 

“excellent characters, interesting moral ambiguity. sad ending. but one of the best books of its type that I have read in a long time.”- Gary Furrow

“I really enjoyed this book, particularly the characters. I will be disappointed if this not book 1 of a multi-book series.”-Joe D.

“Excellent book, story and clear history to the end. I strongly recommend the book and the book writer to be followed.”- Cesar Carreras

“I thoroughly enjoyed this one. Great story and unforgettable characters!”-Daniel Pyle

About Lloyd LofthouseNever For Glory by Lloyd Lofthouse


Multi award winning author, Lloyd Lofthouse is a former US Marine (1965—1968) and combat vet managing PTSD. After the Marines, he went to college and earned a BA in journalism and later an MFA. After working as a nightclub maître d, he taught English and journalism in a public high school. For his first published novel, My Splendid Concubine, Lloyd visited mainland China several times to learn more about that country’s people, culture, and history.

He’s the author of the award-winning novels My Splendid Concubine, Running with the Enemy, The Redemption of Don Juan Casanova, and the memoir Crazy is Normal, a classroom exposé. His short story, A Night at the Well of Purity was named a finalist in the 2007 Chicago Literary Awards.

Websites: http://lloydlofthouse.org/ & https://thesoulfulveteran.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lflwriter
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Lloyd-Lofthouse-168775989838050/

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Never For Glory by Lloyd Lofthouse