*Cover Reveal & Giveaway* Death Takes A Holiday

 

Death needed a vacation.

What he got was a murder, a demon, and a 73-year-old detective with no time to kill.

Death Takes a Holiday

The Mortimer & Mrs Morris Trilogy Book 1

by Tammie Painter

Genre: Humorous Dark Paranormal Mystery 

Death is bored. Immortality will do that to you.

** A hilarious new series from the author of The Cassie Black Trilogy! **

After an eternity of escorting souls to the afterlife, Death — who really prefers you call him Mortimer — is bored. There's been departmental divisions, technical developments, and fitness crazes that mean people just aren't dying like they used to.

What's worse… He's running low on romance novels to keep himself occupied.

His solution: a working holiday to Top World, where he expects room service, infinity-high thread counts, and an easy solution to get business booming again.

What he doesn't expect is Mrs Morris, a seventy-three-year-old detective with a tightly packed schedule that leaves no room for an immortal assistant.

But Mortimer refuses to go away. After all, detectives find murderers, and having his very own killer would be the perfect way to nudge up those mortality rates.

Luckily, someone's just been murdered — and Mrs Morris has been hired to find the culprit. The only trouble? The victim reeks of demons, turning Mortimer's perfect opportunity into a great deal of trouble that could end his career. Oh, and the human race.

Death Takes a Holiday is a humorous fantasy novel about the most inconvenient partnership in the history of the afterlife, where a pair of unlikely allies are thrown together by broken bones, murder mysteries, pesky demons, and the deadliest cup of coffee in Portland.

Like Terry Pratchett joining the Thursday Murder Club, Death Takes a Holiday is perfect for fans of wry humor, paranormal mystery, and unforgettable characters forming reluctant bonds.

 

**Releases August 18, 2026 – PreOrder Now!**

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Author of humorous fantasy whodunits full of mythical misfits and magical mishaps

Many moons ago I was a scientist in a neuroscience lab where I got to play with brains and illegal drugs. Now, I take wickedly strong tea and turn it into comic fantasy whodunits full of mythical misfits and magical mishaps that I hope give you a giggle. 
My tales run the gamut from the ever-expanding Cassie Black Trilogy with its wryly humorous paranormal mysteries to the comical fantasy whodunits in The Circus of Unusual Creatures, and from light-hearted novellas celebrating my love of books to short fiction in which I really flex my myth-loving and humor-craving muscles!

When I’m not creating worlds or killing off characters, I can be found gardening, planning my next travel adventure, concocting some sort of mess in the kitchen, or working as an unpaid servant to one very spoiled cat and some very demanding squirrels.

 

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* Borrowed Child

 

A haunting and suspenseful cautionary tale, Borrowed Child is about what happens when a well-meaning inclination toward “salvation” goes awry.

Borrowed Child:

A Story of Parenting Across Two Cultures

by Marguerite Welch

Genre: Multicultural Contemporary Fiction, Drama

For fans of Little Fires Everywhere, a novel that explores the ambiguities of motherhood and salvation through the anguished relationship between a troubled, undocumented Mexican teenager and the grieving, upper-middle-class mother who takes her in.

After the drug overdose of her teenage son, Helen, a privileged white woman, takes in Mia, a troubled and undocumented Mexican teenager.

Although they initially fill each other’s voids, Helen’s lofty expectations of Mia eventually test that bond and Mia, tortured by guilt and starved for affection, runs off with Diego, an MS13 gang leader. While Helen, bereft over losing another child, tries to reconstruct her life, Mia’s life with Diego spirals into a nightmare: Just after she has his baby, he goes to jail for multiple murders. As each woman moves forward through her own challenges, Helen confronts her deep-seated prejudices, while Mia battles her own demons in search of self-identity and meaning in her life.

A haunting and suspenseful cautionary tale, Borrowed Child is about what happens when a well-meaning inclination toward “salvation” goes awry.

 

[A] detailed and occasionally heartbreaking portrait that pays special attention to the physical and emotional struggles of a young undocumented immigrant." —Kirkus

 

“With the grace and complexity of The White Album by Joan Didion, Borrowed Child examines how intention and action, especially for white people, might misinterpret the complexities of race and power in the United States. With gorgeous writing, Welch subverts expectations and gifts us a nuanced view of prejudice.”—Melissa Scholes Young, author of Flood and The Hive

  

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CHAPTER 1: HELEN

 

For more than a week I could not make myself open the door to Mia’s room. When I finally raised the shades, light illuminated the space like a stage set: the rumpled bed, the hot pink lipstick on the dresser, the closet door agape, revealing the outfit I gave her for church. Gray wool slacks dangled awkwardly from a plastic hanger, the silk blouse discarded in a dusty corner along with one dirty sock—all clues, remnants of a life lived on this stage. But was it the beginning of the play or the end?

Mia had just started her senior year in high school. I knew she was intimidated by all the college visits and apprehensive about submitting the applications, but I had convinced myself that she was ready to say goodbye to her old life and start anew. Sure, we’d experienced difficulties and detours, what family doesn’t? But I believed all was resolved; believed, that is, until one random Wednesday in late September when she never came home. No one saw her—not her teachers, the office staff, or her counselor. No one knew where she was.

At first, I thought Mia had gone off with friends and simply forgotten to call. She would have called, wouldn’t she? Maybe she had gone back to her birth mother’s home. But that seemed unlikely. I pulled out my cell phone every few minutes to see if I had missed a text. By 8:00 p.m. I called her mother.

“Maybe she go off with drug dealer boyfriend,” Carmen said in broken English.

What drug dealer boyfriend? I wanted to cry out, but knew it was pointless. I couldn’t understand her rapid-fire Spanish and our adversarial relationship over the years had made meaningful communication impossible. Carmen’s lack of concern for Mia’s welfare had always mystified and infuriated me.

“You no call the police, okay?” Carmen added. It had been my experience that people in the Hispanic community often panicked when they saw a uniform. It wouldn’t do any good to get the police involved and might make it worse.

“Okay, but please call me if you hear anything,” I pleaded.She never called.

I cried on my husband’s shoulder. “How could Mia do this? Something must be very wrong.” Don was upset too, but couldn’t resist giving me that “I-told-you-so” look, patting my hand with a restrained sense of obligation rather than genuine concern, or so I read it at the time. Now I understand how needy and unfair I was. He had always been so loving and supportive no matter how crazy my schemes and passionate my interests, whether he understood them or not.

The saying “opposites attract” could not have been truer in our relationship. He was a man of science. I was a dreamy artistic type. He read Naval Institute Proceedings. I read poetry. He liked spaghetti. I liked sushi. He couldn’t tell a petunia from a daisy. I was a gardener. And yet, life together was better than apart. When our boys came along, he was an involved, loving father who disciplined with love and loved unrestrainedly. But, at that moment, if I could have gotten beyond my own conflicted feelings of hurt and worry, I could have seen by the way his hand shook as he picked up his Maker’s Mark on the rocks and took a couple of quick gulps that he was genuinely concerned about Mia’s absence.

It was too hard. Both of us felt the stab of an old, only partially healed wound, for which Mia had been a temporary anesthetic. Don banged his drink down on the table, half surprised by the noise, and hugged me silently, afraid to say a word, one pain masking another. An image swam to the surface: Sammy’s grin and tousled mop of blond hair. How could we have been so unaware of the troubled waters beneath that sunny smile? The dark, anxious place that became his secret home beyond our reach and knowing. Now, clueless again, we had let another child slip through the cracks and I was left clutching her abandoned lipstick until my palm bled.

Marguerite Welch is a writer, artist, photographer and sailor whose essays and reviews on fine art photography have been published in the NEW ART EXAMINER, WASHINGTON REVIEW OF THE ARTS, AFTERIMAGE and other local and national art publications. Short personal essays and travel pieces have appeared in BAY WEEKLY, WANDERLUST and CHESAPEAKE BAY MAGAZINE. Her travel memoir, WATERBORNE: A SLOW TRIP AROUND A SMALL PLANET, published by Seaworthy Publications in September 2019, documents a 14-year world circumnavigation undertaken with her husband in their 38-foot sailboat Ithaca. In her spare time she tends her garden on the banks of the Severn River in Annapolis, Maryland where she and her husband have lived for 40 years.

 

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* False Connections

 

She's ex-MI5.

MI5 wants her dead.

Who can she trust?

False Connections

by Steve Sheppard

Genre: Thriller, Action

"Thriller addicts won't be disappointed"
"Steve Sheppard has created another great character in Mel Milano."

Three years ago, Mel Milano was an MI5 intelligence officer with a promising career. Then, during a routine protection and surveillance operation in Wales, things went drastically wrong and three people died, including Mel’s partner and fiancé, Liam Webster.

Drummed out of the service on trumped-up charges by MI5 Deputy Director, Sarah Brook, Mel lost her career, her self-respect, her confidence and her fiancé. Nothing made sense.

Three years on, she is rebuilding her life, working for a private security outfit.
But she’s never forgiven the way she was dumped by MI5. One day she’ll discover the truth about Brook and what was really going on.

Now, though, it’s clear that Mel’s not the only one still holding a grudge. Suddenly everybody seems to want her dead. But why?

On the run from MI5, is there anyone Mel can trust to help her uncover the past?

 

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February. Freezing. Snow everywhere. A surveillance stint in Oswestry. At least, it was supposed to be surveillance. Well, surveillance and persuasion. Piece of piss job, frankly, and as it was just Liam and me, holed up in a cottage for an unspecified time, I’d looked forward to it. We didn’t often get to work together so when we did it was a bonus. We’d been a pair for nine months, engaged for two. Secretly engaged, that is, certainly as far as the service went. Married couples were absolutely not allowed – there was an idea it could lead to agents being compromised – but they were realistic enough to understand they could do little about more casual hook-ups: everyone knew that being in a relationship with someone not in the service was fraught with difficulties.

So, the only people who knew about the engagement were my parents, enjoying their retirement on the Gold Coast in Australia – Liam’s were both dead, killed in a car crash when he was a teenager – and our immediate boss, Catherine Spencer, a splendid old battle-axe with a heart of gold. Catherine was probably in the wrong job. She was far too concerned with the mental wellbeing of her charges, who she tended to treat as though they were the family she no longer had. Unlike Sarah Brook, she’d not been a field agent so hadn’t had her softer, more human edges knocked off her. I loved her to bits.

                Anyway, as I say, it was a simple enough job. Keep an eye on two young Russian dissidents, a married couple with the assumed names of Grigori and Polina Mironov. They were journalists in Moscow who had caught the eye of the Kremlin in the sort of way that was likely to end very badly very quickly, so they’d been spirited out via Estonia and brought to Birmingham. MI5 had no real thoughts that the Mironovs could be of any great help after their initial debrief; I genuinely think the overriding plan was to keep them safe. Good guys one, bad guys nil sort of thing. Not that the service was expecting the Russians to bother sending assassins to Birmingham to knock them off; it’s not as touristy as Salisbury for one thing. So the watching brief I had on the Mironovs was near the bottom of my extensive list of responsibilities.

                Until it wasn’t.

                Completely unexpectedly, after two years in Birmingham, Grigori and Polina upped sticks and moved sixty-five miles west to Oswestry, about as close to the Welsh border you can get without being a sheep. No one knew why. They certainly didn’t tell their local handler. Five weren’t keen on that. Black mark for the handler and a blacker one for his supervisor: me. It’s a lot easier for a couple of Russians to stay under the radar in Brum, surrounded by a million ethnically diverse people, than it is in a small rural town like Oswestry. No matter how fluent their English was, Grigori and Polina would soon become the subject of gossip and MI5 is distinctly anti-gossip.

                So that’s when Liam and I got involved. It was my job anyway and Catherine Spencer, told to send someone after them, watch them, befriend them, try and find out why they’d disappeared into the back of beyond, keep them safe and, one way or another, persuade them back to civilisation, decided that Liam should go too. If the friendly approach didn’t work and we had to do it forcibly, I’d find it difficult by myself. Liam riding shotgun was fine by me as Catherine well knew, although I didn’t think force would be needed. We were both good at striking up random friendships and we were a similar age to Grigori and Polina. Two young couples both new to the town. Nothing could be easier. So we were given fake jobs, installed in a small house around the corner from the Mironovs’ rented flat and told to get on with it.

                To start with it was straightforward. First of all, I arranged to bump into Polina in the local Co-op. She was thin, pale, drawn, with washed-out blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Obviously struggling to find a particular item on the shelves. Black tea, it turned out. I helped her look but it was a small store and we had to settle for Earl Grey. That got a conversation going. As we were both new to the town, I invited her and her husband to join us for a drink in the pub. Two pairs of outsiders united against the Welsh, of whom there were many. She laughed. The first warning sign was that they’d reverted to their real names, Marat and Natalya Panarin, which only added to Five’s concern. It was the first indication that the job might not be as uncomplicated as Liam and I had expected.

                It didn’t take long for things to go wrong. Badly wrong.

 

Steve Sheppard was born and grew up in Surrey before moving to Buckinghamshire and then to Oxfordshire, where he spent a quarter of a century living in an idiosyncratic village that was the affectionate inspiration for his fourth book, Lazytown. He now lives in Hampshire. He spent forty years starting to write books but not finishing them, until belatedly realising that the key is not to give up. The other thing he has since learned is that he should have become a celebrity before writing a book, as this would have made selling it much easier. 

 False Connections is Steve’s fifth book, but the first one written as a straight thriller and not primarily as a comedy, although it does contain humour. He hopes it will be the first of a series featuring feisty, funny but flawed ex-MI5 agent, Mel Milano. He also has three spy thrillers with laughs to his name, all published by Claret Press: A Very Important Teapot (2019), set in Australia, Bored to Death in the Baltics (2021), not set in Australia, and Poor Table Manners (2024), which takes place in Cape Town.  These feature an initially fairly hapless hero, Dawson, and a considerably less hapless heroine, Lucy, together with varied supporting casts, most of whom are not who they claim to be. Steve’s fourth book is an out-and-out comedy-murder-mystery, Lazytown (2025).

  

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* Love on the Line

Andrea takes a job building a pipeline through the mountains of West Virginia. 

Cold, mud, family drama, and an all-male crew, are only a few of the problems she encounters.

Love On the Line 1

Women At Work Series Book 1

by Kirsten Fullmer

Genre: Women’s Fiction, Coming of Age, Small Town Romance

Her dad always said A little dirt never hurt anybody. He was wrong.

Andrea’s excitement about her first job engineering a pipeline through the mountains of West Virginia turns to disaster when she faces grueling work, harsh weather, and crushing homesickness. If she can’t pull herself together and keep up, she’ll be sent home.

When she dropped out of grad school to work on the line with Grandpa Buck, her parents were disappointed, widening a bitter family divide. If she goes home now, she’ll miss the opportunity to know Buck and lose his respect as well.

There's one worker, a foreman, who might offer comfort and support, but when Andrea finally trusts him, things get even more complicated.

Fans of In Five Years, Reminders of Him, and Regretting You, are devouring Kirsten Fullmer’s imaginative, gritty, coming-of-age romance.

One-Click Love on the Line to start the uniquely engaging journey today!

 

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 Nick and Rooster’s conversation lagged as they both paused to watch Andy and Buck approach. The afternoon had grown warm, the hottest so far, and the men waved at dust and bugs that crawled and bit, making them miserable.

            Buck stopped and bobbed a nod at the two foremen. “Men.”

            “Sir,” both mumbled in reply.

Buck grunted, then headed on past the men with Andy at his heels. As she hustled pass Rooster, her eyes met his and she couldn’t help but notice the intensity there.

She tripped over a rut and ran several steps ahead to regain her balance. Stopping to readjust the stake bag on her shoulder, she waved away a sweat bee. “Go ahead, Andy, trip and fall at his feet,” she muttered under her breath.

Two steps later she lurched to a halt and dropped the bag to clutch at her underarm where something, more than likely the sweat bee, stung her with a vengeance.

Shouting curses, she danced and twisted in a circle, yanking at her safety vest and shirt and grabbing at her sports bra in an attempt the stop the burning sting. Finally, she ripped one arm out of her shirt and vest. Shoving her fingers up under the tight sweaty bra, she scooped out the bee and jumped back as its body fell to the dirt.

She stomped on the bee and kinked her neck, trying to examine her armpit area, but then she remembered where she was. She froze with one hand still up the side of her bra. Her head came up, only to find every man on the right-of-way, numbering well over thirty, staring at her in amazement.

“Need a hand?” Nick called out with a grin.

“It was a bee—” she started, then with a snort of disgust, she yanked her hand from her bra. Hefting the heavy bag, she realized her shirt and safety vest were still bunched up around one side of her neck, leaving her arm and her stomach half exposed. Three more cuss words escaped as she dropped the bag and fumbled back into her clothing, with all eyes watching her every move.

The sting continued to burn as she grabbed the stake bag and stomped past Buck, with her cheeks red and hot.

“What was that all about?” the old man asked as she passed.

Ignoring him, Andy continued up the right-of-way.

***

            Rooster smoothed his fingers down his beard trying to hide a laugh as he watched Andy and Buck retreat. Nick hooted by his side, cackling with the other hands as they regaled Andy tearing off her shirt. Rooster’s hand dropped and he frowned, wondering how bad the sting was. He’d had a sweat bee trapped in his pants once, and it was a pain he still remembered.

Love on the Line 2

Women at Work Book 2

Andy could only stare, wide-eyed, at the keys in her hand. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Only foremen got a company truck.

Andy is pleased to work with Grandpa Buck again, even though the long hours limit her time with Rooster. But her contentment is cut short when a serious on-the-job accident tips the scale of leadership, throwing Rooster and Andy into conflict.

Rooster must prove he is unbiased toward Andy and her work, or lose his promotion. When her parents show up, Andy has to deal with Rooster, her mother’s interference, and her own insecurities to keep the job going. If she can’t cope she’ll lose her job, and worse yet, she’ll let down Buck.

If Andy and Rooster can’t find a way to work together and complete the pipeline, their relationship is over.

Fans of In Five Years, Reminders of Him, and Regretting You, are devouring Kirsten Fullmer’s imaginative, gritty, coming-of-age pipeline books.

One-Click Love on the Line 2 to continue Andy’s exceptional journey today!

 

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Rooster forked a pork chop onto his plate and dug in, cutting off a big bite. He popped it in his mouth and watched Andy as he chewed.

She tried not to squirm, but he could see her discomfort. One of his brows quirked up.

Andy dished a helping of salad onto her plate, careful not to look up at him.

He cut another bite off his chop. Silence filled the room, tense and palpable, like the room was too small. Reaching for his glass, he caught her sneaking a peak at him.

After several gulps of water, he settled his glass back on the table, took his fork in one hand and his knife in the other, and waited. She was only demure when she knew she was in the wrong.

When she realized he wasn’t eating, her eyes met his. “What’s wrong?” she asked innocently. “Is the pork okay?”

“Why do you want to go to some gas station on the only night we don’t have to go to sleep at eight o-clock? You usually want to…” He intentionally let the sentence drop and waggled his eyebrows to make her blush. She was so cute when she was timid.

“We won’t need to stay late,” she backpedaled, “I was talking to Nick about it and—”

“Oh, here we go,” he interrupted. “This is about Nick isn’t it?”

She put her fork on the table. “What’s your problem with Nick?”

He shook his head. “You told him you’d invite that new coating girl, didn’t you?” He wasn’t asking, it was a statement.

Andy’s chin came up. “She happens to be the coating foreman.”

“Whatever,” he snorted, and went back to cutting his meat.

Andy grinned wickedly. “She could demand that you all address her as foreperson, you know.”

Rooster snorted at her dilutional comment.

Andy pursed her lips, knowing full well that the pipeline was still in the 1950s when it came to women’s rights. But she adjusted her train of thought and continued. “Why do you think this has anything to do with me talking to Nick?”

His chewing stopped and he gave her an oh please, look.

She cleared her throat and looked away, poking a bite of salad onto her fork. “Okay, her name may have come up.”

Rooster took another long drink of water.

“Would it kill us to be social?” Andy retorted. “We never go anywhere but work.”

 “We work eighty hours a week!”

“That’s beside the point,” she huffed, sticking the forkful of salad in her mouth.

“Is it?”

She chewed and swallowed. “You just don’t want to bother,” she said with a flounce.

“This is overcooked,” he muttered, sawing away at his pork chop. It was dry and chewy, he’d done a poor job of it.

Dinner continued in silence with both parties casting glances at the other, but neither one spoke. When they finished eating, they stood and carried their dishes to the sink. Rooster ran hot, soapy water as Andy scraped their scraps into the trash and returned to the table for the rest of the dishes.

Silence reigned, leaving only the sound of plates clinking and water running as Rooster washed and rinsed the dishes, and Andy dried. When the dishes were washed, he drained the water and watched as Andy put the last plate in the specially designed drawer. When she turned back to him, he took up the end of her dishtowel, pulling her to him. His hands circled her waist. “If you’d like me to take you out Saturday night, just say so.”

Andy didn’t meet his eye.

But Rooster knew her well, and still very much enjoyed her attitudes. He tilted her head up with an index finger under her chin. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Losing all track of thought, Andy fell under his spell. Her pupils dilated and her lips parted. She didn’t need to say anything, he knew he had her.

Leaning down, he teased kisses along her jaw, causing a moan to slip from her lips. Her arms came up to circle his neck and his kisses wandered to her cheek, then her mouth.

Eagerly, she kissed him back, deepening both the kiss and his desire. He scooped her up and carried her toward the bedroom.

Andy leaned into his shoulder, filled with anticipation. She nibbled at his neck, ran her fingers through his hair, and a dreamy smile settled over her face.

He placed her on the bed, certain that somewhere in that woman’s brain of hers, she was already wondering what she’d wear on their Saturday night date to the gas station.  

Kirsten is a writer with a love of art and design. She worked in the engineering field, taught college, and consulted free lance. Due to health problems, she retired in 2012 to travel with her husband. They live and work full time in a 40' travel trailer with their little dog Bingo. Besides writing romance novels, she enjoys selling art on Etsy and spoiling their four grandchildren.

As a writer, Kirsten's goal is to create strong female characters who face challenging, painful, and sometimes comical situations. She believes that the best way to deal with struggle, is through friendship and women helping women. She knows good stories are based on interesting and relatable characters.

 

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*Release Blitz* Worse than her Bite

Title: Worse Than Her Bite (The Eternity College Chronicles, Book 5)

Author: Lauretta Hignett

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publication Date: July 15th, 2026

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Blurb:

Everything is falling into place.

There are only a couple of months to go before I turn eighteen, and I can take custody of my baby brother. My mother is still pretending I don't exist, which is a relief. Ronan is a little further along in the grieving process and not being such a giant sad sack anymore, which is also fantastic. We've got the blood witch on the run, and we've got plans to shrink the Hellmouth so nothing else can come out. I've even started making weapons for my Iron Man suit.

Therapy is going well, too. I'm starting to understand myself a little bit better. Especially with certain... realizations I've had lately.

Everything in my life is working out for the best. And I can't imagine anything possibly going wrong...

Right?

Worse Than Her Bite is book five in the Eternity College Chronicles, a fun new supernatural comedy and urban fantasy series that’s a little bit Buffy The Vampire Slayer, a little bit Wednesday, and a whole lot of Big Bang Theory.

  NOW LIVE & AVAILABLE ON KU!

Lauretta is an Amazon bestselling urban fantasy author with a passion for writing kickass characters, weird magical creatures, hilarious banter, and a touch of romance.

When she’s not writing, you'll find her enjoying terrible craft projects, unnecessarily complicated cocktails, and hanging out with her two little kids and her dog, Lola the delinquent lab cross.

In case you're here to check, please know that Lauretta does NOT use generative AI in any story or in any artworks in her books AT ALL. Every weird character and bizarre plotline comes entirely from her own brain, and she types every word herself. Support human art!

Author Links: 

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NOW LIVE & AVAILABLE ON KU!