Book Blitz of Dragon Descending by Jennifer Allis Provost. (#contests- Win A $25 Amazon Gift Card.)

Dragon Descending
Jennifer Allis Provost
(Fire and Claw, #2)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Dragons value family above all else—but when a dragon shifter can’t shift, how will he protect the ones he loves?

Lochlyn Blackmoor, the last dragon shifter in Alessia, has lost his ability to shift. Heartened by a prediction that he will shift again, Lochlyn retreats to Dragon Ridge with his beloved wife, Rosalie. They’re content to enjoy a quiet life, until they receive unsettling news from the capital city.

The king’s seer has been marked for death, all because she helped him free Rosalie’s sister from the king’s clutches.

Despite his current weakness, Lochlyn embarks on a mission to rescue the seer with his brother-in-law and spymaster in tow. Almost immediately, one of their few allies—Arthus Flameborn, Grand Master of the Order of the Phoenix, who also happens to be Rosalie’s grandfather—abandons them. As they run out of time and options, Lochlyn turns to a former foe for assistance: Basilisk, the same rogue shifter he freed from the Order’s dungeon, and nearly killed him.

Basilisk proves himself a worthy ally, and his vast knowledge Alessia’s royal family comes in handy more than once. As more of Basilisk’s past is revealed, Lochlyn learns Alessia’s darkest, most dangerous secret, information so deadly It could unravel everything he’s ever known. To make matters worse, the ruthless Grand Master wants to form a relationship with his granddaughter, Rosalie, and he doesn’t care who he hurts in the process—not even Rosalie.

And only a dragon can overpower the Grand Master.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

Lochlyn Blackmoor hated waiting.

Yet it was all he’d done for months—waiting for blowback from Serpens about their daring rescue of Caterina and Curran. For news of the rampaging basilisk he and Curran had freed from the palace dungeons. Or for the Grand Master to appear in the courtyard demanding to see his family.

Waiting to be able to shift again.

Nothing happened.

Lochlyn set his hands on the balcony’s railing, and watched the early morning activity in the castle’s courtyard. While he appreciated the calm days and nights they’d enjoyed at Dragon Ridge, retribution was inevitable. He’d insulted the king, committed several acts of treason, and set the palace on fire. King Olivar wasn’t a forgiving man; he was more likely to take Lochlyn’s head and mount it on his wall.

Still. Nothing.

Perhaps Olivar was taking his time so Lochlyn would slowly descend into madness.

Laughter floated toward him, a bright sound that Lochlyn would know anywhere. He turned toward the gardens, and saw Rosalie walking with her sister, Caterina. They both carried baskets of flowers, but behind Rosalie’s basket was her rounded belly, and inside her belly was their child.

Their child’s birth was something else Lochlyn was waiting for, and for that he was most impatient of all.

He and Rosalie already had three adopted children, and he loved them and his nephew, Jonathan, dearly. Somehow, he found yet another measure of love in his heart for this child he’d yet to meet, a babe who would be a dragon, like him.

As the strongest of the Otherworldly creatures, Lochlyn’s own dragon blood meant the child would definitely take after him, but they wouldn’t know if the child would be able to shift until he was around a year old. While Lochlyn could attain both dragon and warrior forms, his eldest brother could only shift to warrior, and his middle brothers couldn’t shift at all.

Whether the child could shift or not didn’t matter to Lochlyn. Either way, he couldn’t wait to meet their baby. Before Rosalie fell pregnant, Lochlyn had been the last living dragon in Alessia. Now both his kind and his name would live on, thanks to his beautiful wife.

“Lochlyn,” Rosalie called from the courtyard, waving to get his attention as if he hadn’t already been entranced by her every move. “There were some daisies in bloom, and the birds spared us some blackberries.”

“And elderberries,” Caterina added, holding up her basket. “Madchen can make more of her famous wine.”

Lochlyn laughed softly; there were enough casks of Madchen’s elderberry wine in the castle’s cellar to get half of Alessia drunk. “Are you two coming in for lunch?”

Rosalie opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she said was drowned out by the thunder of a dozen hooves. Lochlyn looked toward the gate and saw three gigantic stags enter the courtyard. The central and largest stag approached Rosalie and bowed.

“Hello, Cervus,” Rosalie said as the stag’s antlers scraped the ground near her feet. “And you really don’t need to be so dramatic. Will you join us for lunch?”

Cervus raised his head, and after he glanced at the balcony, he and his two companions went toward the stables. Lochlyn watched them depart, then he returned his gaze to his wife. His leisurely afternoon with Rosalie would have to wait. As Lochlyn’s spymaster, Cervus had been in Serpens for the past three weeks, gathering information. For him to personally return to Dragon Ridge instead of sending one of his messengers, he must have learned something especially dire.

Author Bio:

Jennifer Allis Provost writes books about faeries, orcs and elves. Zombies, too. She grew up in the wilds of Western Massachusetts and had read every book in the local library by age twelve. (It was a small library.) An early love of mythology and folklore led to her romantic fantasy series, Fire and Claw, and her degree in environmental science helped shape her urban fantasy, Poison Garden. When she’s not writing about murderous plants or sexy dragon shifters she’s working on her MFA in Creative Nonfiction.

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Dragon Descending Blitz

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Book Blitz of Tree Trek A daughters Walk Through Grief by Stephanie Mirocha

A Daughter's Walk Through Grief

Nature, Botany of Trees, Healing Through Nature, Grief Journey

Date Published: 05-23-2025

Publisher: Holy Cow! Press

These intimate portraits of trees are a balm that heals grief.

In this memoir, Stephanie Mirocha weaves a blend of botany, philosophy, personal reflections, and healing through nature from grief after the loss of her father. Trees provide the backdrop of friendly support she clings to as she revives her father's educational Tree Trek. She "speaks for the trees," bringing enthusiasm to the treks she leads. Each chapter focuses on the science of a different tree, connecting the reader with the beauty of nature, and the vitality that comes from listening to the guiding wisdom of one's inner voice.

Excerpt

In my scientific study of trees, I have learned the particular traits and idiosyncrasies of each species which, in a nonscientific way, imbues them with personality. As my dad used to say about any species, “That’s their nature, just the way (fill in the blank) are.” These traits can reflect our own inner natures and make connections to our own lives. A swamp white oak in winter holding onto its leaves may strike some people as stubborn, others as steadfastly persevering, still others as merely decorative, or it might make a connection to some memory from long ago. Depending on what experiences we bring to the situation, we will be drawn to one or more favorite trees that somehow speak to us.

They reflect what we need, like healing from grief, as we focus both within ourselves and beyond ourselves at the same time. In this way, trees bring us home.

Let’s fill in my dad’s blank with juniper. Imagine a juniper coming into view as we walk through the forest. Juniper stands there pure, unmasked, with no agenda at all. Something makes us stop and admire her, feeling her truth flow through us. What does juniper give us? Different things for different people. She is just benignly there, presenting her dark blue “berries” amidst her prickly fronds, always extending an invitation to rest beneath for a while and contemplate…what?

That is for you to find out!

There are many paths to take through grief. Nature offers one way to help move through this powerful emotion and find our way forward, but each path is different and deeply personal. As you walk with me on my grief trek through the trees in these pages, my hope is to open one possible doorway for you to process your own suffering. I have found that spending time in nature offers a trail leading directly into the heart, and, at the very least, to a sense of calm. This is doable for everyone because we are part of nature. The calmness we find beyond ourselves reflects the meditative truth and beauty of our own inner wisdom shining from within. One key moment is all it takes to start things in motion

  

About the Author

Stephanie Mirocha is a visual artist, author, Minnesota master naturalist and science communicator who grew up climbing trees and exploring the city park across from her childhood home. Her creative art expression not only takes form in her passion for writing but also translates into her career as a fine art painter. Besides creating the art for this book, she has illustrated four children’s picture books connecting children to nature. Frog in the House won the 2016 Giverny Award for a science picture book in English, and My Little Book of Bald Eagles won 1st place, Juvenile Nonfiction, in the 2010 Next Gen Indie Book Awards. She and her scientist father shared a poetic heart and a love for nature, each informing and supporting the other throughout their close relationship. Graduating from the University of Minnesota with a BA in Philosophy, Stephanie followed her free spirit and embraced the unconventional life of an artist after moving to Aitkin, a small town in north central Minnesota. This is her first written book. Her art business website is https://stephaniemirocha.com/.

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Book Blitz of Love Next Boor by Eve Kasey & Melanie A. Smith. (#Contests- Win a Copy of the book and some swag.)

Love Next Door: A ‘90s Anthem Duet
Eve Kasey & Melanie A. Smith
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

One volume, two steamy interconnected romances set in 1995 Seattle

Come to My Window
Hazel Bell has lost everything — her job, her apartment, and her future in Seattle. Now her whole world is a thrift-store wardrobe, a family of houseplants, and a stranger in the opposite window who knows exactly what to say.

They exchange notes instead of names. Confessions instead of introductions. And somehow, the man she’s never met becomes the one person she can’t live without.

Gideon Sarkis knows the truth would end them before they ever begin.

He knows exactly who Hazel is. But she doesn’t know him — or how badly he once hurt her. The more notes they write, the harder he falls. But with his obligations pressing in and her options disappearing, their time is running out.

Some windows are meant to be opened.

But some secrets can shatter everything.

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door
Ben Pedersen is a ghostwriter stuck crafting someone else’s thrillers when a misdelivered package introduces him to the mystery of unit 203 — and its elusive occupant, Heaven Lee.

Lee is a software engineer burning the candle at every possible end, helping build one of the first online bookstores. She doesn’t have time for nosy neighbors. She barely has time for sleep. But the guy upstairs keeps getting her mail, and he’s funny, patient, and her dog likes him more than the UPS guy. So maybe one coffee not-date won’t kill her.

The neighborly arrangement that follows becomes something neither of them planned. But Lee won’t admit what’s in the misdelivered packages, and Ben’s writer brain won’t let a mystery rest. When curiosity crosses a line, both must decide what matters more: protecting their secrets or fighting for what they’ve found.

Love Next Door is two warm, witty nostalgic love stories about the secrets we keep, the walls we build, and the people worth tearing them down for.

Goodreads / Purchase

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EXCERPT:

Hazel is parked in a chair in front of her window, arms around her knees as if she needs the extra support. Our gazes collide across the space between us. Even with the tiny smile she offers, she looks small and lonely, and it breaks my heart.

There is no note. Just her.

After a long moment in which we just share space, she unwinds her arms and turns to her kitchen table. Her hair falls across her face as she scribbles out a note. I watch as she tucks long locks behind her ear, and wish it’s my fingers instead.

Coffee shop? her note says. She’s drawn a steaming mug beside the words.

I nod.

And wait.

Her next note is unexpected. I saw you at the grocery store yesterday.

My stomach flips. Seriously? In the same building twice in as many days? I wonder how often that’s happened without our knowledge. Maybe we’ve been circling around each other for months, just out of reach.

And? She’d seen me and done nothing about it. Why?

A bit of her sparkle returns as she shares a small, sly smile. And I still think you’re incredibly handsome.

I chuckle softly, but I won’t let her slide. Talk to me, Picasso.

Her smile fades. Nodding, she turns her attention back to her art supplies. Her words against the glass are navy blue and stark. It’s been an invisible day. Ever feel invisible?

I don’t. My size and coloring make me stand out. I’ve never felt invisible, but I’ve never truly felt seen, either. Not until eye contact with my neighbor was all I had.

I shake my head before bending down to write the next note. I may not have seen you, but I see you. I make the last three words bold, going over the letters several times. Then I make a second sign. You shine, Hazel. Even in the dark.

Thank you, she doodles out, including leaves and buds around the letters. Then another. You have a way of helping me heal. A broken heart held together by stitches.

“Killing me, Picasso,” I breathe. That is the greatest compliment she can give me, especially knowing what I do.

You get me through the day, Hazel. Even before I knew you, you were the reason I smiled.

She puts her hand on her heart, and I swear I feel myself fall.

Smiling, Hazel writes another note and holds it up to the window. Do I get to know your name?

With those words, I hit the earth.

I refuse to let my panic show on my face. Thinking quickly, I scrawl out a desperate reply. If you’ve named all your plants, I know you’ve named me, too. What do you call me?

She visibly cringes, and heaves an exaggerated sigh I can see across the alley and holds her confession up to the window.

Fred.

I blink. As in Flintstone? Why?

Hazel is slow to reply, but I don’t mind because I have her pursed lips and another peek of her clavicle to focus on. Because you’re too sexy for your shirt.

It takes a few seconds to process her words. Then I burst out laughing, harder than I have in weeks. Not Flintstone, then. Right Said Fred. The guy with the truly obnoxious song.

Still chuckling, I glance down at my exposed abs, loving that she appreciates my hard work, loving even more that “too sexy” is how she thinks of me.

Despite the crazy day, despite the secret I’m holding in my heart, I make sure that Hazel knows that the feeling is mutual.

I let desire take over every part of me, slowly, like a trickle of light rain. I allow heat into my gaze. Leaning forward on the shelf, I let my muscles pop and eyes roam. I take her in as I share my more lascivious thoughts through body language.

For her, I strip myself bare, deeper than flesh. I stop hiding how I see her. And I drink down what I witness across the way.

A flower opening in the sun.

Author Bio:

Eve Kasey writes for a design firm by day and reads (and writes!) indie romance novels by night. Her contemporary romances balance swoon and steam while aiming to teach readers something new. She loves romance for the hope the genre conveys as well as the amplification of the simple truth that everyone everywhere deserves a happily ever after - however that looks to them. Eve lives in and loves the Pacific Northwest.

Melanie A. Smith is an award-winning, international best-selling author of steamy romance with smart, self-sufficient heroines and strong, swoony book boyfriends with hearts of gold. A former engineer turned stay-at-home mom and author, when Melanie is not lost in the world of books you’ll find her spending time with her husband and son, crafting, or cross-stitching.

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Love Next Door: A ‘90s Anthem Duet Blitz

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Book Blitz of You Are Your Own Lost Love by Susanne Landgrebe

Memoir • Inspirational • Spiritual Growth • Personal Transformation • Mindfulness • Self-Help

Date Published: July 15, 2026

Publisher: MindStir Media

Our journey through life is rarely smooth sailing. We weather tempests of anguish, traverse valleys of despair and fractured hopes, and carry the scars of battles fought both within and without. Trauma becomes an indelible mark etched upon our souls, a testament to survival. Landgrebe, a cancer survivor, shows us that amidst these tempests, and within the quiet recesses of our being, lies a sanctuary, a realm where healing begins and self-love blossoms. It beckons us to shed the veils of doubt, to release the burden of seeking validation, and to speak the truth of our own worthiness. This book is a guide through the labyrinth of self-discovery, healing, and love. It invites you to embark on a transformative quest: to heal the wounds of the past, to nurture the seeds of compassion, and to bloom into a positive force. You will journey through the art of becoming whole again. Through stories, ancient wisdom, and practical practices, YOU Are Your Own Lost Love leads us from the shadows of trauma into the luminous expanse of self-acceptance and peace. Join Landgrebe on this sacred pilgrimage to return to the heart of our existence. Together, you will rediscover the brilliance within and unveil the timeless truth that has been waiting all along: YOU are your own lost love.

 

About the Author

 

 There comes a moment in every life when the search outward becomes a journey inward.

For more than three decades, Susanne Landgrebe has devoted her life to helping others remember what she believes is the deepest truth of the human experience: we are not broken, and we have never been separate from the love we seek.

A Nurse Practitioner certified in Family Practice, Dermatology, and Integrative Medicine, Certified Yoga Therapist, and Certified Meditation Teacher, Susanne has spent more than twenty-five years blending the wisdom of modern medicine with contemplative practice, mindfulness, and the profound healing that arises through self-compassion, presence, and authentic connection.

Her understanding of healing has been shaped not only by decades of caring for patients, but by walking through her own darkest valleys. As a survivor of Philadelphia chromosome-positive acute lymphoblastic leukemia and multiple life-threatening complications, she discovered that even in the face of profound uncertainty, the human spirit possesses an extraordinary capacity to awaken, love, and begin again.

A lifelong meditator, retreat leader, writer, mother, grandmother, and mountain climber, Susanne finds her greatest teachers in both silence and nature. Whether sitting in meditation on the Iowa prairie, leading others in retreat, or standing atop a fourteen-thousand-foot peak in the Rocky Mountains, she is continually reminded that the outer journey mirrors the inner one: every ascent begins with a single courageous step, and every summit reveals an even wider horizon.

Her writing weaves together science, spirituality, psychology, and lived experience with warmth, honesty, and hope. She invites readers to move beyond fear, perfectionism, and the endless search for fulfillment outside themselves, returning instead to the quiet wisdom and love that have always lived within.

YOU Are Your Own Lost Love is the first of what she hopes will be many books exploring healing, awakening, resilience, and the extraordinary beauty of being fully alive. Her greatest wish is that every reader closes her books feeling a little lighter, a little freer, and more deeply at home within themselves.

Because the greatest journey we will ever take is not toward becoming someone new, it is toward remembering who we have been all along.

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Book Blast of The Last Summerville by Annabelle Lewis.(#CONTESTS- Win A $25 Amazon gift card.)

The Last Summerville
Annabelle Lewis
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller, Romance, Suspense, Thriller

Twenty-two-year-old Georgia Parker already carries more regret than most people twice her age. Practically an orphan, she’s reeling from the death of her grandmother, Mimi—the one person who made her feel safe from the chaos of her mother’s world. Alone in Carson City, Nevada, Georgia is determined to start over, to stand on her own. Yet Mimi’s final words echo in her mind: Take risks. Trust people again. Be brave.

Then Heath Summerville steps into her life—charming, magnetic, protective, and so perfectly attuned to her needs it feels like fate. But the closer Georgia gets, the more she feels the pull of something she can’t name—something just beneath the surface of his charm.

Strange silences. Half-truths. High-society circles and an ancestral house that feels more like a trap than a refuge.

Lies are waiting to unravel. And by the time Georgia sees the truth, it might already be too late.

Goodreads / Amazon

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CHAPTER 1:

“Get me out of this godforsaken town and back to civilization,” Vicky grumbled.

Georgia, behind the wheel, glanced at her mom, Vicky, who was shakily applying lipstick while looking in a handheld compact mirror. Vicky clicked it shut, then pulled down the passenger visor, only to find the old car devoid of a larger mirror. She swatted it back up, then garbled a sound of exasperation before diving back into her purse in search of something else.

Georgia didn’t see the lure of Las Vegas like her mother did. It was one of many differences between them. “No!” she suddenly exclaimed when Vicky put a cigarette to her lips, intending to light it. “Not in the car.”

“Why are you such an old damn scold, Georgia?” Vicky scowled. “You’re twenty-two years old, for fuck’s sake. Your holier-than-thou bullshit has gotten worse. Every time I see you.”

Vicky shook her head, then turned to stare out the window. Georgia swallowed back the words she wanted to throw in her mom’s face.

Not today. Not after all they’d been through.

They spent the rest of the drive to the Carson City airport in awkward silence. Georgia pulled to the curb at the departures area and then walked to the back of the Ford Bronco to help retrieve the bags. Vicky took them, mumbled goodbye, and walked away without a hug.

“Goodbye, Mom,” Georgia called loudly as she shivered in the cold, standing next to the back of her Mimi’s Bronco. She watched Vicky drag her bag, her head bowed, her eyes already on her phone. She didn’t turn to give Georgia one last look of goodbye, nor acknowledge Georgia’s use of the tender moniker of “mom,” rather than the usual “Vicky.” It hurt. But why Georgia expected Vicky to suddenly become maternal was the bigger question. And neither of them had made falsely loving or empty promises to keep in touch.

Author Bio:

Annabelle Lewis—a pseudonym for the author—lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Regrettably? Perhaps. She still believes she’s a Texan even though the math no longer supports that. Nor her birthplace. Nor her residence. No offense, Minnesota. You’ve got your good points too, but only about six months of the year.

In her youth, Annabelle was a complete failure. Ask anyone who knew her. Any of her teachers and family would tell you this. High school graduation was a sad day for all when Annabelle walked proudly off the high school stage, her thoughts consumed with boys, beer, and after-parties, and later into the arms of her parents. Her father’s laughter and singular remark? “I didn’t think you’d make it. Get a job at the post office, they have a good retirement plan.”

A high bar and words to live by, but Annabelle wanted more. She needed to flunk out of college too. But damn, she sure did have a good time. Trivial arrest records not-withstanding, it was a growth period for our girl. And if you look closely, you’ll see a bit of what was to come when she majored in criminal justice. Her lifelong aspiration was to become a judge. Hmm.

For better or worse, Annabelle didn’t graduate from college but did find gainful employment and a fulfilling career. This path ended when she became a mom. Married to her wonderful George, who to this day can hardly remember an actual proposal, Annabelle finally became a mother. She didn’t have a clue how hard she would need to work to keep those self-imposed requirements of Downey-fresh, iron-pressed sheets, home-baked meals, and mom-of-the-year awards arriving. She composed a small self-affirmation song and made her children sing it to her for money. She was a very good mom.

After clearing the largest hurdles of motherhood and regrettably, begrudgingly, and not-without-tears, launching her children onto the world, she looked around and realized she had a lot to say. Picking up a laptop, she got to work.

Annabelle spends her days continuing to tackle the challenges of motherhood, for both her humans and canines. She also writes. And reads. And cleans. And cooks. And bakes. And cleans again. She also supports her husband, George, in an administrative capacity for their small business. She’s in charge of payroll and cuts George’s checks. This leads to no marital acrimony.

In the beginning, with the blank page staring at her and possibly in a hostile mood after being literally mauled by a dog and by the world in general, she had an idea. What if she could wield a force of good upon unsuspecting evil-doers? What if she had the resources to get the job done without dealing with committee and anyone else’s whiney-ass opinions?

It was gold. It took off. Annabelle sat down and began to write and couldn’t stop. To date, having written over a million words in the Carrows Family Chronicles and her second series on the Boston Clairvoyants, several items have become quite clear. Annabelle had a lot to say. Annabelle really enjoys writing. And although she hates all things technology, she begrudgingly pounds her head on her desk daily as obstacles are thrown in her path. Almost a hero.

Since entering her world of make-believe, she has rebelled against all intrusion of real-world responsibilities. Her house is a mess, but she tries. Her family is fed, but more often than not, on takeout. She vows to shower every day, but no, it’s a vow she’ll never keep. Her friends are neglected, but not in her heart.

Read her mordacious blog! Read her books! Follow her on social platforms! Sign up for her newsletter! These are all good things. What are you waiting for? Jump into bed with Annabelle. She’s having a swell time. You should join her. theannabellelewis.com annabellelewisauthor@gmail.com IG and Twitter: alewisauthor

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The Last Summerville Blitz

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