Guest Post by David Woo and Margalit Shinar Authors of Merry-Go-Roud Broke Down. (#Contests- Win An Amazon Gift Card.)

MERRY-GO-ROUND BROKE DOWN

by David Woo & Margalit Shinar

July 20 - August 14, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A novel of nine linked parables about globalization, ambition, hope, love, and greed spanning two decades and eight countries.

Fall 2008. The Waldorf Astoria New York. Two armed men storm the hotel’s famed bar and hold the occupants hostage: an American corporate raider, a Chinese tycoon, a British hedge fund manager, a Japanese housewife-turned-celebrity, a Mexican undocumented worker, a Wall Street bond salesman, and a Norwegian environmentalist.

Who are these terrorists? What do they want? And what ties them to their captives?

Merry-Go-Round Broke Down is a genre-breaking novel that explores globalization’s “butterfly effect”: how choices made in one corner of the world ignited an unstoppable chain of consequences that upended lives across continents.

Praise for Merry-Go-Round Broke Down:

"What a fantastic tapestry of wordsmithing and storytelling! It left me with a much better understanding of how the world was woven so tightly by globalization, all through the dramatic stories of fascinating cultures and characters that are relevant to this day."
~ Paul Tudor Jones, Chief Investment Officer of Tudor Investment Corporation

"You might think that it would be impossible to write a novel that helps the reader put her arms around the complex issues raised by globalization. Yet, David Woo and Margalit Shinar have done precisely this. The result is most engaging and insightful. It is also one that even globalization experts such as myself can profit from."
~ Jagdish Bhagwati, University Professor of economics and law at Columbia University, author of In Defense of Globalization

"Merry-Go-Round Broke Down depicts the key socio-economic developments of the last quarter-century. It brings to life the people who put them into effect, as well as those who were affected by them. Few were untouched."
~ Howard Marks, the co-founder and co-CEO of Oaktree Capital and international best-selling author of The Most Important Thing

"A timely portrait of a world bound together by the pursuit of profit."
~ Kirkus Reviews

"An ambitious thriller with rich characterizations and a heart-pounding pace, Merry-Go-Round Broke Down also offers a stark, on-the-ground vision of globalization’s devastation."
~ Booklife by Publishers Weekly

"David Woo and Margalit Shinar have perfectly illustrated how even a tenuous connection between individuals can have a profound, far-reaching effect across the world that could never have been predicted."
~ Reader’s Favorite

"Merry-Go-Round Broke Down is a contemporary fiction novel with the propulsion of a financial thriller. It’s fiction, but it wants to explain the world while it entertains you… If you want a story that makes you look up from the page and think, “Wait, is this how it really works?,” then it delivers."
~ Literary Titan

Merry-Go-Round Broke Down Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Financial Thriller
Published by: Regalo Press
Publication Date: March 31, 2026
Number of Pages: 288
ISBN: 9798895655801
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Simon & Schuster

GUEST POST:

Why Merry-Go-Round Broke Down?

By David Woo and Margalit Shinar

Globalization has ancient roots. It began some 4,000 years ago during the Bronze Age with the discovery of how to make bronze.

Making bronze required copper and tin. While copper was abundant in places such as Egypt and Greece, tin had to be transported from as far away as present-day Afghanistan. That necessity gave rise to vast trade networks: land routes stretching across Eurasia as well as sea routes linking the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean.

Along those routes flowed not only goods, but also people, ideas, technologies, religions, and artistic traditions. In that sense, globalization is almost as old as civilization itself.

But globalization is not a one-way process. Periods of increasing integration have often been followed by periods of fragmentation. The great wave of globalization in the late nineteenth century ultimately came to an abrupt end with the outbreak of the First World War.

The most recent wave of globalization helped propel China from a poor country to a global superpower. In doing so, it also gave rise to an increasingly dangerous rivalry between the United States and China.

How that rivalry is managed will determine whether this era of globalization merely bends—or ultimately breaks.

Given what is at stake for the world, it has never been more important for all of us to understand how the world arrived at this moment.

This is one of the reasons we wrote Merry-Go-Round Broke Down.

We strongly believe the world would be a better place if more people understood how it works. That is why we chose to write a novel rather than an economic treatise: we wanted the book to have a chance to reach a much wider audience.

There was a time when novels helped readers understand the forces of their age. We hope Merry-Go-Round Broke Down can play a small part in that tradition.

 

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 4

TOMOKO WATANABE
Tokyo, Japan, January–July 2005

“Low interest rates punish savers.” —Bill Gross

THE HOUSE IN KASHIWA, CHIBA Prefecture, southeast of Tokyo, was a two-storied box with aluminum windows and clad in white mosaics. It had a grey-tiled roof and a tiny front garden. The wind was howling outside as Tomoko struggled to get up from her bed. It was six o’clock in the morning and still dark, and everybody in the house was asleep. She was loath to abandon the warmth of the heavy duvet, but today was her husband Akihiro Watanabe’s birthday, and she wanted to surprise him with a special breakfast.

Tomoko shivered as her feet, encased in thick white socks, trod silently on the tatami mat covering the floor. It was cold, even for January, and this was one time she wished there was heating in the bedroom upstairs. She put on her slippers, pulled on a heavy cardigan over her fleece pajamas, and went down to the kitchen.

The kitchen, Tomoko’s kingdom, was small, but she ran it like a tight ship, every utensil and small appliance kept in its assigned place.

She began to prepare her husband’s favorite menu: clam miso soup and omelet rolls. There was smoked fish left over from the previous night, as well as cooked rice.

After turning on the small heater and quickly swallowing a cup of hot tea, she put on her old blue-checked apron and set to work.

Poor Aki, she was thinking, as she removed from the fridge the asari clams she had bought the previous afternoon; he really deserved some cheering up. Only eight months ago he had lost his lifelong employment, the first serious crisis in their marriage of twenty-two years. The electronics company he had given his all to for over thirty years had gone bankrupt after its main customer decided to outsource to China.

She rinsed the clams in cold water, rubbed them clean with a dishcloth, and set them aside to soak in salt water. She then filled a pot with water from the sink and blanched a leaf of kelp. When it had softened, she removed it with chopsticks and then put it back in the pot to boil for a minute or two before taking it out again.

Though Aki had found a new job quickly enough, Tomoko was worried. It not only paid a third less than his previous salary, it was a temporary job, with a contract that had to be renewed every six months. While Tomoko was, by nature, someone who took life’s setbacks with a pragmatic optimism, she felt helpless in the face of the loss of their financial security. As she added dried bonito flakes to the boiling water, she shook her head and pursed her lips at the injustice of it.

When the fish was cooked, she passed the broth through a fine sieve lined with a cloth. Discarding the scum, she sieved it again. And again. Inspecting the liquid for any telltale specks, she repeated the process until she was satisfied the broth was perfectly clear. She now reached out for the clams, soaking in their bath of brine.

Usually, Tomoko loved the ritual fuss of birthdays, especially her husband’s—the shopping for presents, the paper decorations and cards, the candles on the cake—but this year there wasn’t much cause for celebration.

She rinsed the clams and tipped them into the broth. Bringing the liquid to a boil, she skimmed it patiently. Once the clams had opened, she mixed in the miso paste, squeezing it through a small sieve with a spoon. The soup was ready.

Now for the omelets. What was more worrying, she thought, breaking eggs into a bowl with a deft flick of her wrist, was that his pension was gone. And the new job offered no pension at all. The bleakness of their future agitated her as she whisked the eggs with more vigor than necessary and poured them into the frying pan.

The omelets were done. When they had cooled a bit, she rolled them up into narrow, finger-shaped wraps and put them aside. Then she arranged the fillets of cold smoked fish in the middle of a long rectangular plate, which she decorated in one corner with a dollop of daikon radish infused with ponzu sauce. Finally, she heated up the rice and took out some nattō, fermented soybeans, everyone’s favorite.

She looked out the window above the sink. The heavy night darkness was lifting, and she could make out the falling snowflakes and the leafless branches of the cherry tree in their garden bending in the wind. A cold grey light was beginning to infiltrate the kitchen. She switched off the overhead lamp, figuring she could do without it now.

A brown Formica-top table with six chairs stood in a nook just off the kitchen. Poor Aki, she repeated to herself as she began to set it. At the age of fifty-three, there was little chance of his finding steady employment again. Although they never talked about it, she knew that, ashamed and frustrated, her husband was unraveling. His drinking binges had become more frequent, and he had taken to coming home at all hours. He was also becoming moody and short-tempered.

Only last week he had flown off the handle when she told him she was thinking about looking for a part-time job. He wouldn’t hear of it, he had responded angrily. Their son was still at school and needed her. Besides, what would their neighbors think? It was out of the question.

Though Tomoko knew his objections had more to do with his pride, she didn’t bring up the subject again. She vowed to herself she would find another way to help. But how?

Tomoko put down a small flower arrangement, teacups, bowls, and chopstick supports on the table. She had to find a way to help Aki. Whereas she could still take comfort in little things, he had just lost his entire world. She took a moment to align the chopsticks just so. Taking a step back from the table, she viewed the result with satisfaction.

Tomoko glanced at the kitchen clock squeezed between the toaster oven and a shelf. It was seven-thirty and all was ready. Plenty of time left for a leisurely meal before Aki left for the office and their son, Nishio, left for school. What a pity her daughter, Keiko, wasn’t there.

Tomoko brushed that regret away, together with a lock of her permed black hair that had strayed onto her forehead, and stood meekly at the entrance of the kitchen, waiting. She could hear her family coming down the narrow wooden stairs.

She bowed to her husband and her mother-in-law as they appeared, her face faintly flushed from her efforts, her shoulders hunched forward ever so slightly. “Ohayō gozaimasu,” she said, with the politest of greetings.

But Aki only grunted a barely discernible thank-you as he viewed the mini-feast she had prepared and sat down, noisily pushing back his chair.

Then he buried his face in the morning newspaper that Tomoko had laid, neatly folded, to the right of his chopsticks.

He was followed by Nishio. At fifteen, he was a tall and gawky youth, with a few wisps of dark downy hair on his upper lip and chin. He advanced towards the table and sat down in silence. He sat there sullenly, looking down under lowered eyelids, not once making eye contact with his mother. He consumed his soup in a few rapid gulps and hurriedly shoved some rice into his mouth. Then with a curt, barely mumbled good-bye, he got up and was gone.

“Don’t forget your bento box,” Tomoko’s voice rang out after him, “you must eat lunch!”

The third person at the table was Mishimo, Tomoko’s mother-in-law. It was she who owned the house, and after the death of Akihiro’s father some ten years before had given over most of the space to her son’s family, keeping only one room for herself. It was a situation not without friction. She had never liked Tomoko and was of the opinion that her handsome son could have found a better match than the daughter of a taxi driver. Or, at the very least, a prettier one. Though their exchanges were invariably on the right side of civil, Mishimo inevitably found fault with everything Tomoko did. But this morning was different. She spooned down the soup slowly, savoring every sip. “Excellent, Tomoko,” she remarked loudly. “Well done.” A compliment! Tomoko was touched to the bottom of her heart.

She then turned to her husband.

“Anata,” he said, using a Japanese term of endearment. “I hope you’ll be home on time for dinner. I bought a cake for tonight. And there will be eel as a main course.”

Aki didn’t shift his eyes from the newspaper. “No. I’m eating out.

Client dinner. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be back late.”

If Tomoko was disappointed, she showed no sign of it.

“Akihiro-san. I also bought you a small gift,” she announced timidly. She had bought it out of her personal savings and had hoped to give it to him at the evening meal. She would have to give it to him now instead.

She went to the living room where she had hidden it. Coming back, she bowed respectfully and held out the package in her two open palms like an offering, saying “Happy birthday” in English.

Aki finally deigned to lower the newspaper and stared at the box wrapped in delicately folded bright blue paper, tied with a slender red-and-gold string. He reached out to take it. But instead of opening it, he put it in the pocket of his suit jacket.

“Have to rush now,” he said dismissively.

“It’s the lighter you always wanted,” said Tomoko. But Aki responded with a dead gaze of bitterness at the wall behind her. Suddenly, he jumped up from his chair with such violence that it crashed to the floor.

“Baka! You stupid woman! Kono ama, you bitch!” He exploded in an inexplicable fit of rage.

Tomoko shrank back.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to waste money?” he yelled. “Don’t you see the situation we’re in?”

Without warning, he grabbed the cast-iron teapot from the table. He seemed ready to hurl it straight at her. Tomoko raised her arm to defend herself. He had hit her before, and she thought she knew what to expect.

At the last moment, however, perhaps in response to a whispered word from Mishimo that never reached Tomoko’s ears, he changed the direction of his aim and the heavy pot went flying toward the kitchen. Spurting tea, it smashed loudly into one of the kitchen cabinets.

In the silence that followed, Tomoko couldn’t move. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. But she didn’t say a word. Out of the corner of her eye, she was just in time to catch the expression of icy disapproval on Mishimo’s face.

***

Excerpt from MERRY-GO-ROUND BROKE DOWN by David Woo & Margalit Shinar. Copyright 2026 by David Woo & Margalit Shinar. Reproduced with permission from David Woo & Margalit Shinar. All rights reserved.

 

 

David Woo:

David Woo is a renowned global macro strategist, widely recognized for his bold and prescient calls on some of the biggest economic, political, and geopolitical stories over the past quarter century. Bloomberg called him “one of the most outspoken voices on Wall Street,” while Business Insider named him among “the twelve smartest people on Wall Street.” His views have shaped debates across markets, policy circles, and the global media. David began his career at the International Monetary Fund before going on to hold senior positions at Bank of America, Barclays Capital, and Citigroup. He earned a PhD in economics from Columbia University and a bachelor of arts in mathematics from Tufts University. A true product of globalization, David was born in Pittsburgh, raised in Taiwan, and educated in the United States. His career has taken him from Washington DC to London and New York. He is fluent in English, Chinese, and French.

Catch Up With David Woo:

www.davidwoounbound.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
Facebook

 

Margalit Shinar:

Margalit Shinar is an architect. Margalit was born in New York, the daughter of French émigrés. She has a master’s degree in art history from Tufts University and a bachelor of arts in architecture from the Technion, Israel Institute of Technology. She has edited a history book on ancient Israel. She is fluent in English, French, Hebrew, and Italian.

Catch Up With Margalit Shinar:

Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads

 

Tour Participants:

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Book Blitz of After Dark by Rose Titus. (#contests)

After Dark
Rose Titus
(The Vampire Next Door, #2)
Publication date: February 23rd 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

In Night Home: The Vampire Next Door Volume I, the fact that vampires truly exist was almost accidentally made public when a story presented as fiction seemed all too real to an amateur vampire hunter, who at the end, was made to remain silent about the secrets he discovered

But it doesn’t end there: the tale circulates as far as the west coast, where a small community of vampires have been quietly hiding; and to them, also, this story is too close to reality to be just a fantasy. But while they take the time to decide whether to attempt contact with their own kind so far away, they have their own local problems to deal with.

A savage and barbaric serial killer, suspected of being a vampire, lurks in their own city, stalking the innocent at night. Will the vampires be able to stop the killer before they are blamed for his acts of extreme horror?

And that’s not all. A beautiful yet tragic and suicidal young woman wanders like a lost angel from out of the darkness and into their midst, hoping a vampire will make her end swift and easy.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Alex drifted slowly through the back door to step down into the darkened entrance to the well-kept old building’s lower levels. On the upper floors there was an exclusive restaurant that catered to the wealthy and sophisticated; below, on the ground level there was a dance club, which attracted a completely different crowd of people—many with spiked purple hair. But under the dance floor, underground, there was served another kind of people. This dining area was not well known to many above ground.

He surveyed the area. A few tables were empty, but most tables had one or two people sitting and talking. And there she was, in the corner, alone, waiting for him. His sister Alexandra looked up and nodded to acknowledge him. He went to her table and sat down. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” she put her fine crystal glass down. “Jim Ellison left a message on my answering machine. I was surprised to hear from him after so long a time. He said, ‘I know you’re asleep but I’ve got some shocking news.’“

“What is it?” he knew that Jim called everything shocking, incredible, amazing, mind-boggling. That was his profession. He wrote for the tabloids, the ones that reported on flying saucers and Bigfoot.

“So, I kept calling, and finally got him,” she sighed. Alex noticed that she sighed a lot lately. “Says he’s got something he wants us to see. Well, you know, the business he’s in, he’s always looking for unusual things, searching the web for news of the odd.”

“Has he finally captured the Sasquatch?” he smirked. He did like Jim, but also enjoyed having a laugh at his line of work. That was how they met. Jim had been allowed to do “an article” for his so-called newspaper, the kind of tabloid newspaper people picked up in the supermarket checkout line and took home to read just for fun. The article was titled “Civilized Vampires Come Out After Dark.” It was agreed by the community to allow him to publish it because no one believed anything in that sort of newspaper anyway.

“No, he hasn’t captured the Sasquatch, and he hasn’t had a ride in a flying saucer either. He thinks he may have found more people like us.”

“Really? How? Someone write the editor of that cheap paper?”

“No. It’s… well, you know how some colleges have magazines that students write for? I guess nowadays they’re all online. Jim searches the internet for anything he could use, and he found this article by a college student on the East Coast. It’s a story about vampires, but not the movie kind. The characters in her story, they are very much like us, Alex. Living, breathing… and all the rest, stop aging after thirty, and then gradually lose tolerance for the sun, live to be about three hundred. He told me over the phone about it. I haven’t seen it. I asked him to send it, but he said he might be travelling through, so he might come by and drop it off. “

“Oh, well, we’ll wait until he shows up, then.”

She lowered her voice. “But that’s not the only reason I asked you to come by.”

“What?” He hoped it wasn’t bad news; her tone seemed serious.

“Someone seems to be watching us, Alex.”

Author Bio:

Rose Titus resides somewhere in cold, dreary New England with two manipulative cats and a very out of date computer with which she creates horror and fantasy fiction. She also has a restored classic Buick to ride around in while in search of adventure.

For travel she has stayed the night in an allegedly haunted castle, has taken a boat ride on Loch Ness, and has visited the Bermuda Triangle -- without getting lost.

Her work has previously appeared in Lost Worlds, Lynx Eye, Bog Gob, Mausoleum, Weird Terrain, Descend, The Dead River Review, and other literary magazines. She also writes regularly for Blood Moon Rising Magazine.

When she's not working or writing or messing with her old car, she waits by the mailbox for her Fortean Times to arrive.

Amazon / Goodreads / Facebook

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After Dark Blitz

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Book Blitz of You Had Me At Meow BY Gracie James.(#contests-Win A $15 Amazon gift card.)

You Had Me at Meow
Gracie James
Publication date: July 7th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Some girls get fairy godmothers. Abby Thompson gets a talking cat with a British accent and absolutely zero chill.

After her latest blind date—arranged by her loving (but relentless) mother—ends in a concussion, a wine-soaked dress, and enough humiliation to power Manhattan, Abby decides she’s done with dating. Forever.

Too bad her cat, Mr. Whiskers, has other ideas. And he’s suddenly sharing them. Out loud.

“Honestly, Abby, your taste in men is almost as concerning as your taste in sweaters.”

His mission? Fix her train-wreck love life and help her land her dream job. His qualifications? None. He’s a cat. His methods? Questionable at best.

But somewhere between the disastrous first dates, ruthless office politics, and the unexpectedly charming veterinarian who might actually be worth shaving her legs for, Abby starts to wonder…

Is Mr. Whiskers a miracle? Or a catastrophe with whiskers?

Either way, her opinionated feline isn’t backing down. And if Abby wants her dream life, she might have to trust the one life coach she never asked for. Her cat.

You Had Me at Meow is a sweet, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy about finding your voice, risking your heart, and one very determined cat who refuses to let his human settle for anything less than purr-fection.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Before I even reach the fridge, Mr. Whiskers has settled into his favorite spot on the couch while I gather the essentials of a proper pity party: a pint of mint chocolate chip, my largest spoon, and one of Dottie’s cosmic brownies. Ahhh, perfect.

Curling up next to my furry little roommate, I pull our softest blanket over my legs and queue up one of our favorite movies. Maybe watching someone else’s embarrassing moments will make me feel better about my own.

As the opening credits roll, I crumble Dottie’s brownie over my ice cream, letting out a contented sigh. At least dessert never disappoints.

“Why can’t I find love like in the movies, huh, buddy?” I ask, running my fingers through his soft fur. “You know, the kind where tripping in front of your dream guy leads to true love instead of a concussion.”

Mr. Whiskers blinks up at me, his eyes reflecting the TV’s flickering light.

“I mean, look at tonight,” I continue, digging into my brownie-ice-cream creation and regretting nothing. Well… except maybe going out in the first place. “Mom sets me up with someone who’s supposedly perfect for me, and he turns out to be a complete jerk. And then when I finally meet a genuinely nice guy, he’s my cat’s veterinarian and he’s already taken.”

I scratch under Mr. Whiskers ’chin, earning a faint purr.

“Maybe I should just give up on dating altogether,” I muse. “I mean, who needs romance when I have you, anyway? We could be two crazy cat ladies together. Well, one crazy cat lady and one crazy cat, but you know what I mean. No more terrible blind dates, no more falling head over heels, literally, for the wrong guys. Just us, some yummy snacks, and the sweet escape of a good movie night. What do you think, huh, buddy? Sound good?”

“Darling, that sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all night.”

Author Bio:

Gracie James lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and their sweet rescue cat, Pinky, and absolutely loves the rain. When she’s not writing swoony, laugh-out-loud rom-coms sprinkled with a touch of magic, she’s usually hiking up a mountain or eating chocolate like it’s a personality trait. Her creative peak occurs somewhere between “I should go to bed” and “well, it’s basically morning now,” and she considers sunrise more of a suggestion than a deadline.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram

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You Had Me at Meow Blitz

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Book Blitz of How To Love A Prince by Hayden Stone. (#Contests- Enter to win an Ecopy of the book.)

How to Love a Prince
Hayden Stone
(Being Royal, #2)
Publication date: June 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

What happens when a playboy prince must find a respectable husband to redeem himself and secure the monarchy’s future when he unexpectedly inherits the throne?

When London-based playboy Prince Theodor learns he’s about to inherit the Danish throne, he must clean up his scandalous image by finding an appropriate husband. But his planned redemption arc to audition fake boyfriends to fake marry creates another set of problems, until a fateful trip to Corfu, Greece, leads him to Greek Prince Stefanos, of the former Greek monarchy, and challenges his guarded heart as sparks fly.

It’s too bad they accidentally sink a yacht, which inevitably leads to more scandal, and they must start apart. However, Theodor and Stefanos can’t stop thinking of each other, leading to heated, secret encounters between Greece and England guaranteed to set the tabloids alight once their secret is revealed…

How to Love a Prince, Book 2 in the Being Royal Series, is a light-hearted royal rom-com featuring fake dating, opposites-attract, and forbidden love.

For fans of Red, White & Royal Blue, Boyfriend Material, and The Unlikely Heir.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

When I pause long enough to go to the bar and get some water, I bump unsteadily into someone. “Sorry,” I manage, clapping a hand on the tall man’s shoulder in apology. It’s solid muscle under my fingers. He’s even more built than I am, and I’ve kept in good shape since my military service years ago and more recent modeling work after that. Before I settled into working with my business partner on our design projects.

The man turns around, frowning, his mouth open to complain. Then his eyes widen in recognition, beneath a tumble of dark, wavy hair.

Of course he’s hot.

I grit my teeth. A hot man is what got me in trouble to begin with tonight. Or, more like, said hot man got himself caught up in the tabloids and then caused me problems.

Also, I might be staring at the stranger.

Not being a British royal usually has its advantages in London. Less recognition, for starters. I’ve lived in London for years now, away from Denmark. I get less than I would get back home anyway, unless on the off chance I come across a Dane or a Danish monarchy enthusiast. Which, surprisingly, happens more often than one might think.

Except I’m hardly being subtle tonight. I want to be seen. Straightening to my full height, I stand my ground in defiance.

Let them photograph me. I insist.

I want Aidan to know what he’s missing. He’ll be sorry then, him and his wretched groom.

Except it doesn’t make things any better, and then it dawns on me I’ve still been gawping openly at a gorgeous man, with olive skin and black hair and blue eyes. Which, I’ve got to say, is a stunning combination known to do a number on me. He’s mesmerizing. I gawp like a tourist taking in one of the wonders of the world. Believe me, he’s one of them. Usually, I’m a shade more coy, to my credit, but I’ve had a lot to drink tonight, and my filter is off. In fact, my filter’s probably tossed somewhere deep in the Thames, like a votive offering right alongside some Bronze Age weapons and Roman coins.

“Prince Theodor?” He has an accent that I can’t quite place. It’s totally hot, though.

“Guilty,” I say flippantly, recovering in an artful facade of manners. I run a hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to crash into you. Shockingly rude. Would you like me to get you a drink to make up for it? Please.”

“No need. Already have one.” The man holds up his cocktail, complete with little umbrella and some fancy garnishes. His eyes dance. “You don’t know who I am?”

If I hadn’t been busy staring at his face like I was trying to etch it into my memory for all time, I would have maybe looked at his hand with its cocktail. Confession time. “To be honest, I barely know who I am right now.”

“Fair.” The grin he gives is spectacular, easy, almost familiar. His white teeth match his white shirt. I shiver. “I can see why you might want to forget tonight. Bad luck about the news.”

Now he looks sympathetic. My face burns.

Oh, hell.

Does everyone follow the tabloids? God, has everyone seen my embarrassment coming before I did?

Even so, do I want to forget this stranger? The probability in truth is at around nil. Around us, the dance music thumps on, people laugh and carry on around the bar where we stand in the shifting strobe lights from the dance floor, all purple and pink and blue.

And then, everything comes crashing down again as his words belatedly register in my brain. My mouth hangs slightly open. So much for finding the evening’s prospect. He’s murdered my opening.

“Ouch, man.” My suaveness has gone right out the door of the club and died on the Soho street. Probably by drowning in a well-trodden puddle. “You had to remind me about the news.”

“Sorry.” He looks contrite. Then he searches my eyes, with amusement lingering in his. There’s no malice that I can see, which makes for a refreshing change, at least. “You really don’t know who I am?”

“How rude, I should have asked your name. I’m sorry, my manners have vanished. Terribly sorry. What’s your name, then?” I ask.

He laughs easily, shrugging. “It’s Stefanos.”

I go back to staring. Something is at last clicking into place through an absinthe-induced fog. No wonder he looks a little familiar. “As in, Prince Stefanos?”

That would be Prince Stefanos of the former Greek monarchy. The Greek Royal Family remains, but in exile outside of Greece, spread across Europe.

“Yes.” Stefanos bows his head. There’s something completely charming in the gesture, almost shy. Certainly self-effacing. “And I’m very sorry about the reminder of the tabloids. I know they’re a pain for all of us.”

“You just re-reminded me,” I complain, but I’m smiling, despite the miserable night he seems to insist on reminding me about, like he’s delighting in a few more twists of the knife. And despite my best efforts to forget about Aidan. A stab wound is like that. My gut twinges. Or maybe it’s the drinks protesting in my stomach.

At any rate, I’m distracted by Stefanos, the moment of his glossy hair as he laughs again, ducking his head down as he breaks my riveted gaze.

“I’ve got to say, the prince-per-capita rating in this club is off the charts tonight.” I gaze openly at him, leaning ever so slightly in. Yes, he’s hot. Confirmed. As if there were any question about his hotness. The evening’s at last starting to look better and better. Thank fuck.

“Absolutely—”

Then, in turn, someone careens into me—and my flirting is officially cancelled.

Because it’s officially messy o’clock at the bar before last call.

And I’m drunk enough to not have my bones left for balance—and I crash hard, my drink splashing him first—and I fall hard right into Stefanos’s chest.

Author Bio:

More animal than mineral, Hayden Stone is a writer of fun queer fiction, especially with kissing. He currently lives in Victoria, Canada, and has previously lived in Vancouver, Canada and London, UK. He likes strong coffee and is owned by two cats. You can find out his latest news on Twitter or Instagram, or at his website: haydenstonebooks.com

 

 

 

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How to Love a Prince Blitz

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Book Blitz of Angel's Salvation by Ines Gray(#Contests)

Angel’s Salvation
Ines Gray
(Watchers and Warriors Series, #3)
Publication date: May 31st 2026
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

If breaking a curse meant losing yourself, how far would you go?

In the dark and dangerous streets of Caracas, CIA operative Amani Wilhite is abandoned behind enemy lines. Captured and marked for death, a mysterious warrior appears, plucking her from the torturer’s chair and claiming she belongs to him. Thrust into a world of fallen angels, secrets, and ancient magic, Amani must now decide if her deadly savior offers a path to salvation or certain death.

Val has endured the death of his fated mate nine times across centuries. As a half-fallen angel, each of Amani’s deaths pushes him closer to the demonic transformation he’s fought lifetimes to resist. Desperate, he strikes a perilous bargain with a prophetic witch—but salvation offers no guarantees, and the price may cost him his last shred of humanity.

As Amani and Val fight against ancient forces and confront their destinies, desire ignites. But with Val’s humanity slipping away, the risks are greater than ever. Failure this time doesn’t just mean losing each other. It means Val will become the very monster that will ensure Amani’s death.

Angel’s Salvation is a dark, seductive, must-read fated-mates romance. Filled with betrayal, desire, and scorching chemistry, it will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end. If you enjoyed Dark Lover by J.R. Ward or A Hunger Like No Other by Kresley Cole, you’ll love Angel’s Salvation. Don’t wait, click buy now and experience this thrilling ride today!

Goodreads / Amazon

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Author Bio:

Ines Gray is an award-winning dark fantasy romance author who specializes in writing about fated mates and forbidden love. Drawing on twenty years in social work and law enforcement, she weaves gritty suspense into her stories of fallen angels, demons, shifters, witches, and other immortals who lurk in the shadows of our world. A fascination with reincarnation and mythology fuels her multicultural cast and the supernatural worlds she builds. When she's not crafting high-stakes romance, Ines indulges in action and horror movies, travels with her husband, or answers to her rescue cat with cerebellar hypoplasia. Her mission? To write as many stories as possible about mystical humans and the immortals who shouldn't love them. For bonus stories and new releases, visit her website.

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Angel’s Salvation Blitz

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Book Blitz of Love at the Fiesta- A Kwentitas Romance Anthology. (#Contests- Win An Ebook of the Anthology- 11 winners.)

Love at the Fiesta: A Kwentitas Romance Anthology
(Kwentitas Romance Anthologies, #3)
Publication date: May 26th 2026
Genres: Adult, Romance

Return to Hacienda Luz—the world of Pasko Na, My Love and Forevermore—as the beloved Moore family opens the gates once more for a dazzling Santacruzan Fiesta in the heart of Napa Valley.

For two vibrant days, the vineyard comes alive with music, food, pageantry, cultural traditions, and unforgettable moments beneath the spring sky. But amid the beauty and celebration, hearts are on the line.

Some will fall in love.
Some will fall back in love.
And some will risk it all for the love they’ve been waiting for.

From acclaimed and bestselling Filipino American authors comes Love at the Fiesta, a joyful romance anthology filled with family, longing, second chances, and love.

 

Featuring stories by the Kwentitas:
Cat Santos
Celeste Dador
Elle Cruz
June Gray
Kaye Rockwell
Liz Durano
Maan Gabriel
Maida Malby
Mia Hopkins
Preslaysa Williams
Tif Marcelo

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Apple Books / Kobo

—

SNEAK PEEKS:
Rice – Mia Hopkins

“Look at us,” she whispered. They were wet up to their thighs. Their clothes and shoes were a mess of sand and seawater. Ace’s wet T-shirt clung to his torso. Pinky longed to strip it off him, to run her hands all over his skin.

“Guess we didn’t see that coming,” he said, breathless.

Overthinking was her specialty, but right now she didn’t allow herself to think at all. Pinky reached forward and placed her hands on his chest. She looked up at his lips. The wind almost carried away her whisper.

“Can I?”

Ace nodded slowly.

Blood rushing, she kissed him. A gust of cold wind whipped at them, but Ace’s lips were as warm and soft as she’d hoped. She tasted salt and smelled his skin—woodsy and clean, with something delicious in the background. Tea with honey. A gingersnap? No—hot salabat. Spicy and sweet.

When Ace finally closed his eyes, Pinky embraced him, and her brain lit up like a chandelier. She felt everything—his hands on her waist, the soft moan in his throat as she lightly pressed the tip of her tongue against his. He held her tightly, quieting her nerves but setting a fire deep inside her. The wind cut through her wet skirt and bit at her bare skin. The waves crashed. In the distance, seagulls called to each other, back and forth.

After a long, long time, Pinky broke their kiss. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure. His arms were cold, but his chest through the T-shirt was hot, and his heart was beating fast. They both could feel that he was hard as a rock, but he didn’t push himself against her. Horny, but polite—a refreshing combination.

“Do you…” she trailed off.

“Do I what?”

She winced. “Please don’t judge me.”

He stroked her hair. “I won’t.”

“Do you…live nearby?”

—

Bring Back The Love – Tif Marcelo

Two days of pretending.

That was all Emmy Briones had to endure. That shouldn’t be hard, right? After all, she’d done harder things in life while on stage as a wedding singer, as a mother to actual grownups, and as a wife in a twenty-two-year marriage that was in a weird stage of limbo.

Granted, it was two days under the watchful eye of the legendary Lola Naty, her husband’s grandmother and matriarch of the famous Hacienda Luz.

No big deal.

Emmy employed the box breathing she’d learned in couples therapy—because yes, she and Aaron were at that stage—and crossed over the threshold of Hacienda Luz while dragging their carry-ons, where the glimmer of the marble floors and the sparkle of the chandelier above took her breath away.

Already decorated for the fiesta, a traditional Santacruzan, the lobby was filled with multicolored flowers. People milled about, talking in hushed voices, many of whom wore shirts that bore the familiar logo of Hacienda Luz.

A step behind Aaron, she swallowed against the enormity of it all. Living in the DC area hadn’t exposed them to this grandeur on the daily, unlike the rest of the Briones and Moore families living in and around the Bay Area. Though she and Aaron had been engaged here, Emmy only kept up with the property’s happenings through social media posts from Aaron’s family.

At the remembrance of their engagement, of Aaron getting down on one knee and pledging his life to her, her chest welled with sorrow.

“Em.” In front of her, Aaron offered his hand. His brown eyes had a message in them, though she couldn’t quite discern his intent.

They’d been in sync, in their thoughts, in their hearts, and in their voices, until they weren’t.

Emmy was just hoping they could pull off this ruse, collect their fee, go back home to their life, and somehow move on from it. It was Aaron who was worried. That his family—specifically Lola Naty—would notice that she and he were not the happy couple everyone made them out to be.

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Love at the Fiesta Blitz

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Book Blitz of A Hundred Black Sunrises by Tamela Miles.(#Contests- Win An Amazon Gift Card.))

A Hundred Black Sunrises: A Friday the 13th Story
Tamela Miles
Publication date: March 13th 2026
Genres: Adult, Horror, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense

A hundred different ways to break your heart, a hundred different ways to take your last breath. Sienna and Finn are exploring their strange attraction to each other until strange becomes something sinister. The clock is ticking as they fight to unravel the mystery of what draws them together on fateful Friday, the 13th.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Alisha gave her a knowing look and stood to light the candles in the center of the table. She used a remote to dim the lights in the room and sat down. The flickering light gave her brown skin an eerie glow as she chanted softly, summoning any spirit that may be nearby.

Sienna carefully studied Finn’s face. He turned his gaze from her aunt and smiled at her. 

She impulsively grabbed his hand, and he squeezed hers in response. “You good?’

Before he could reply, a cold breeze chased the warmth from the room. Alisha shivered noticeably as she continued chanting. She abruptly went silent for long moments, eyes closed. 

When she opened them, tears trailed down her cheeks. “So much sadness,” she murmured.

Sienna eagerly leaned forward. “What’s sad, Auntie? Who are you talking about?”

Alisha remained quiet, shaking her head slowly. “He…loved her very much. Too much to 

let her fly free, as she should’ve.”

Finn and Sienna exchanged confused looks. “Who?” she asked.

“Poppy,” Alisha said gently, swiping the tears away with a quick hand. “I’m learning her story from the spirits.” She started to speak again and paused, her eyes going wide in alarm. “No! 

Not him. Anyone but him.”

“Who are you talking about? What are the spirits telling you?”

Author Bio:

Tamela Miles is a school psychologist with an Ed.S and PPS credential and a graduate of California State University San Bernardino and California State University Dominguez Hills. She is also a former flight attendant. She grew up in Altadena, California in that tumultuous time known as the 1980s. She now resides with her family in the Inland Empire, CA. She's a horror/paranormal romance writer mainly because it feels so good having her characters do bad things and, later, pondering what makes them so bad and why they can never seem to change their wicked ways.

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A Hundred Black Sunrises Blitz

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Book Blitz of Mr. Emotionally Un Stable by Alina Jacobs. (#Contests-wi a signed copy of Mr. Emotionally Unstable.)

Mr. Emotionally Unstable: A Romantic Comedy
Alina Jacobs
Publication date: May 5th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Someone is breaking into my house… and cleaning my kitchen.
At first, I think I’ve lost my mind. Then I decide it’s kinda nice—until the death threats start.

But worrying about stalkers is for people with disposable time.
Which I do not have, thanks to my entire family showing up unannounced to move in with me.
Yay! Surprise houseguests!

As a mature adult woman in her thirties, my stalker is the closest thing to a relationship I’ve had in years. No one’s lining up for a curvy woman with a bad attitude, bras with holes in them, and zero tolerance for man-children.
And no, Mom, I don’t need you giving my number to every creepy guy you meet at the grocery store.
I’m perfectly happy being single. I have my café, my neurotic overweight border collie, and the shadowy figure peering into my window. I don’t need a man.
Except… I do need to find my newly single little sister a boyfriend-slash-meal-ticket so she (and the rest of my houseguests) will move out.
I’d toss her to my mystery stalker, but he did my laundry, and I’m not ready to give up on those perks yet. Besides, I’ve already got the perfect man for her: billionaire, hot, and way out of my league.
Better yet, I no longer have a crush on him, at least not since Fitzgerald Svensson served me eviction papers with a side of insults disguised as flirting.

Now he keeps showing up at my sister’s dates.
Yes, it’s a group activity. We’re recreating our toxic childhood dynamics here, m’kay?
Which means he must be interested… right?
Only problem—he’s hanging around me instead of her.

But it’s an even bigger problem when I wake up one night pinned by a six-foot-five male with his hand over my mouth, his knee spreading my legs, whispering in my ear, “Surprise, Creampuff.”

This is a standalone romantic comedy with a food delivery addicted dog, a hilarious Granny and a heroine of a certain age who has lowered her standards. HEA guaranteed!

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

I follow their horrified gaze. “Creampuff,” I say, voice low, jaw locked so tight it might crack, “you sicced your granny on me? And here I thought you liked me.”

I’m not flirting.

I’m furious.

Because my lobby—my tower—is full of topless senior citizens with knitting needles, terrifying half my hotel clients. I take pride in my hotels. French antiques sourced myself, bespoke carpeting, and my hand-selected marble foyer backdrop a dozen bare breasts swaying like revolutionary flags.

“I’ve cast three hundred stitches of rage!” her grandmother roars, holding up a half-finished scarf like a battle banner.

“Get rid of them,” I snarl at her.

Winnie takes a nervous step back, eyes wide.

Good—she should be nervous.

“You stole my café,” she fires at me.

“And you threw coffee on me.” My voice is cold. Sharp. “Get these women out of my tower. Now.”

She hesitates. Like she’s considering taking their side.

Of course she is.

“Maybe they have a point,” she mutters.

I stare at her.

“Are you going to whip your shirt off and join them?” I snap.

Her face goes strawberry-jam red as my eyes drag—slowly—from her chest back to her mouth.

Her breath catches.

I feel it.

I ignore it.

“I wouldn’t. This is—we’re in public.”

I give her a sharp smile. “Do that,” I offer, “and I might let the protest continue.”

She swallows hard.

I step up to her, crowding her with my height. Sure, flirting’s fun, but this is business.

Her eyelashes flutter.

“And here I thought,” I say, “I was one of your biggest clients.”

Her face blanches. Sure, the fresh-pastry budget is an insignificant line item to me, but to her small business? It’s a lifeline.

She looks like she wants to die.

Good. Let her feel the pressure. She’s not the only one who can be cornered. If she loses this hospitality contract, she’s finished. We both know it.

But only I know that I won’t rip up the contract.

Set her free?

Never. She belongs to me. Wholly.

She just doesn’t realize it yet.

I follow her as she rushes toward her grandmother, my hands jammed in my pockets, in full control as I slowly trail her.

Over by the fireplace, two elderly women string up a knitted banner.

KNOTS NOT HOTELS!

“You need to grow a pair,” her granny is shouting at her. “You can’t let a man treat you like shit and still expect to hit that.”

My eyebrow lifts.

Winnie glances back at me. “He’s not hitting anything.”

“If you don’t get these half-naked elderly women out of my tower, I might.”

“Gran…” Winnie begs.

Her granny steps into my space, hands up for a fistfight.

“You’re a bully.”

“Booo!”

“Bread, not beds!”

“Crochet, don’t pay!”

The topless women encircle us.

I squeeze my eyes shut. If they’re not Winnie’s, I don’t want to see them.

“He acts like he’s never seen tits before,” Granny Frances huffs. “Maybe you should fuck the neighbor’s son, Winn.”

My eyes snap open. Straight to Winnie.

Heat. Anger. Something darker. “Is that why you refused to go on a date with me, Creampuff?”

Her chin lifts. “No. I refused because I hate you.”

I exhale, steady, even. Then I reach up and undo my tie. Watch her eyes bug out as she realizes what I’m doing.

“NO CROISSANTS, NO PEACE!”

I twist off my dress shirt. It’s not lost on me that her gaze slides down my face to my collarbone, down my chest, down…

The chanting starts to trail off.

“Are we sure he needs to be protested?”

Author Bio:

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books...

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

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Mr. Emotionally Unstable Blitz

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Book Blitz of Shopping for a Highlander's Baby by Julia Kent. (#contests- Win An Amazon Gift Card.)

Shopping for a Highlander’s Baby
Julia Kent
(Shopping for a Highlander, #4)
Publication date: March 30th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

The best early strike o ’ma life wasna on the pitch. It was in bed with Amy on our honeymoon.

Dinna ken how we turned our elopement, honeymoon, and conception into a hat trick, but there ye go.

One minute we’re swimming in champagne and red satin sheets, the next we’re staring at a due date that lands right when I’m supposed ta start my big sportscasting gig in London.

Amy’s glowing. She’s also got that fire in her — the kind that makes her tell my billionaire uncle exactly where ta shove his branding campaign, quit her job at eight months pregnant, and rearrange our entire life plan on a Tuesday.

The grandmums are suspiciously quiet, which is more terrifying than when they’re at each other’s throats.

Then it happens. The wee one decides ta make an entrance four weeks early — while I’m three thousand miles away, live on air, with a producer who willna let me leave.

So I do what any McCormick would do.

I coach ma wife through labor in one ear, commentate the match in the other, and let a billion people watch me choose my family over my career on live television.

It’s messy. It’s loud. It’s pure chaos.

It’s the match of our lives.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Amy

Ceramic tile is hard and very cold.

I find that out when my toes turn into icicles as I stand holding a plastic wand that says PREGNANT, like the world’s bossiest fortune cookie.

PREGNANT

The condo holds the aroma of last night’s roasted garlic pizza, which felt like a good option at nine p.m. Now? Not so much. A breath of ocean air wafts in through the cracked-open window.

Boston hums outside.

Inside, I am a statue with messy sex hair and a pee stick screaming my future and… oh, my God.

The word grandmonsters rings through my head like Quasimodo clanging the Notre Dame cathedral bell. Our mothers ruined our wedding, crashed our elopement, and now here we stand, five weeks later, married and—

PREGNANT

I breathe in, out, forgetting the rhythm as my distracted brain tries to fill a whiteboard. An Airtable. Every Kanban board. All the Excel spreadsheets, every last one of them.

Hamish wraps around me from behind, lifting me before my feet realize it. He is warm and tall and smells like soap and sleep, and his forearms around my ribcage are so solid, so sure of where they belong, that my body gives up its panic and leans back into him before my brain can file an objection.

Beware the boundless optimism of a man who once insisted a vibrating bed should be on our wedding gift registry.

And that guests should throw quarters instead of rice.

“I canna believe it,” he says into my ear, voice hushed. “We’re havin ’a wee bairn.”

“Hi,” I say to my husband of five weeks, who hit the bullseye with the first married shot, dammit. “Yes. Apparently.”

Years ago, back when I hated him, I called Hamish “sex on a stick.”

Now I’m holding the sex stick, all right. I just never thought it would be white plastic and determine my fate.

Hamish lets go, walks away, and comes back into the bathroom carrying a chilled bottle of Champagne. It’s the bottle we brought back from our honeymoon in Love You, Maine, from the heart-shaped-everything suite. He holds it up, eyes shining.

“Breakfast o ’champions?”

“No, love.” I put my hand on his. “I can’t drink that now.”

A microsecond of confusion crosses his face, then he executes a pivot that would impress his old coach.

“Aye. Well then, coffee it is.” His auburn brows drop. “Unless ye canna have coffee?”

“I will always have coffee.”

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at http://jkentauthor.com

 

 

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GIVEAWAY!

Shopping for a Highlander’s Baby Blitz

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Book Blitz of A Tiny Little Favor by Peyton Banks.(#COntests)

A Tiny Little Favor
Peyton Banks
Publication date: April 17th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

From USA Today bestselling author, Peyton Banks, comes a steamy rom com about second chances, accidental families, and the most unexpected proposal of all.

He was supposed to be a one-night stand… Now she’s asking him for baby number two.

Five years ago, Tachina Winston made one impulsive decision—a one-night stand with her former client, Vic Maxwell. The result? The world’s cutest little boy and an unconventional but surprisingly seamless co-parenting setup. No drama, no strings, no regrets.

But Tachina has a tiny little problem…

She wants another baby.

Dating apps? Disasters. Blind dates? Even worse. There’s only one man she trusts enough to do this with again: Vic.

Vic isn’t looking for love after a messy breakup. But when Tachina proposes her plan, he can’t deny it—he’s tempted.

And if he agrees, it will come with one condition: he wants to experience everything he missed before.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

Because soon, things get complicated. They’re having adult spend-the-night dates, sharing kisses that last too long, and stirring up feelings neither of them expected.

Then Vic’s ex returns wanting him back, they are forced to decide: was this just a favor with benefits… or the beginning of something real?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“Okay. What is going on? You’re in a mood!”

“A mood?” Tachina looked up from the menu at her longtime friend. There goes that nose of Addison’s. She had figured out that Tachina was keeping a secret.

“A mood. An energy. An aura. Something is going on in that big, beautiful head of yours.” Addison folded her arms across her chest and stared at Tachina.

“My head is not big,” Tachina muttered. She shrugged. “I’m just hungry.”

“Nope. That’s not it. You’ve got that look on your face. It’s the ‘I’ve been thinking too much about something ’expression.”

“Do I really have a ‘I’ve been thinking too much about something ’look?” Well, that was news to her. Tachina reached up and tucked her thick hair behind her ear.

“Yes, ma’am. Your forehead gets all serious. A long line appears across it.” Addison drew a line across her own forehead.

Tachina grimaced and waved her off. “Stop trying to read my face.”

“Just spill it already.”

Monica, one of their favorites waitresses, arrived at the table. She wore bright-pink lipstick, short pixie blonde hair, and had a personality big enough to fill the café. She pulled out her notepad and flashed them a grin.

“What can I start you with, darlin’? Tea? Coffee? Wine? A little Jack?” She chuckled and motioned to Addison and Tachina. “You two are over here whispering fierce, and by the looks of it, you should order the Jack.”

“It’s her.” Addison pointed to Tachina. “She’s the problem.”

“Woooow…” Tachina shook her head. How was she the problem?

“She sure threw you under the bus. Bless her heart. What’s wrong, babe?” Monica turned her kind eyes on Tachina. She had been working at The Iron Kettle for as long as Tachina and Addison had been coming there. She always tried to help and offer motherly advice. She was in her early sixties and didn’t bite her tongue when it came to nonsense.

“Nothing is wrong,” Tachina said quickly.

Two sets of eyebrows lifted at her.

Liars were rarely safe around women who made it their business to be in other’s people’s business. A best friend and a waitress were two of the most dangerous species to try to get away with something. They would figure it out.

“It’s no big deal,” Tachina stressed, but it seemed neither of them believed her.

“Well, I see she doesn’t want to talk in front of me. Let me take your order so she can spill her guts to you, Addy.” Monica turned to Addison who promptly gave her order.

Tachina glanced back down at the menu. Mind made up, she waited her turn.

“And Miss Tachina, what will you be having?”

“I’ll take the Reuben with extra cheese, extra mustard on the side, make sure they give me the biggest slice of pickle they have, and no chips, I’ll have the house fries instead, please.” She placed her menu back down on the table and again found two sets of eyes on her. She shrugged, unapologetic. “I said I was hungry. Oh, and for a drink, I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

“Really? A diet?” Addison muttered.

“Shut your face.” Tachina blew a kiss at her bestie who rolled her eyes at her.

“I don’t judge. I’ll get your order in and I’ll be back with your drink, babe.” Monica offered her a wink as she collected their menus. She spun on her heel and beelined it through the busy establishment.

“Okay. Now spill it.” Addison was not going to let up on her.

Tachina blew out a deep breath.

It was now or never.

Author Bio:

USA Today best selling author, Peyton Banks, is the alter ego of a city girl who is a romantic at heart. Her mornings consist of coffee and daydreaming up the next steamy romance book ideas. She loves spinning romantic tales of hot alpha males and the women they love. She currently resides with her husband and children in Cleveland, Ohio.

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GIVEAWAY!

A Tiny Little Favor Blitz

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Book Blitz of Fracture by Basar Gorur. (#Contests)

Fracture
Basar Gorur
(Shadow Sovereign Series, #1)
Publication date: April 17th 2026
Genres: Adult, Techno Thriller

A murdered diplomat. A dying man’s cryptic message. A conspiracy that could shatter NATO.

When U.S. geopolitical strategist Roger ‘Simms ’Osbourne receives word that his colleague and friend Aslı Green has been killed, he inherits more than grief. He inherits her secret: evidence of a sophisticated Russian operation that sank a Ukrainian tanker and made it look like an accident.

Sent to London to sell a critical NATO surveillance system, Simms quickly discovers his official mission is compromised. A powerful British political faction, backed by shadowy money and royal connections, is determined to see him fail. The deeper he digs into Aslı’s murder, the more he realizes the two threats are connected.

Forced to abandon the rulebook, Simms assembles an unlikely alliance: his embattled team, a mysterious operative named Katya who knows too much, and assets on both sides of the law. Together, they uncover a sprawling network funneling Russian profits through international shell companies to fuel a political war against the West.

But Russian Admiral Sidorov isn’t waiting for the dust to settle. His devastating military demonstration exposes NATO’s vulnerabilities and humiliates the alliance on the world stage. And lurking beneath it all is an even darker secret: Chinese technology at the heart of Russia’s most advanced weapons.

Now Simms must wage war on three fronts: political, financial, and military. Because if he fails, his friend died for nothing. And the next strike won’t be disguised as an accident.

For fans of Tom Clancy, Mark Greaney, and Brad Thor.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Ankara. Surveillance van outside Mikhail’s apartment. Evening.

Jack adjusted the lens for the hundredth time. Jones was sorting sunflower seeds by some private system known only to God and possibly his therapist.

“Stilettos,” Jones said.

“We’re not doing this.”

“We’re absolutely doing this. We’ve been here four hours. I’ve counted the bricks on that building. There are 2,847. I’ve earned a conversation.”

“You counted wrong. There are 2,846.”

“You counted them too?”

“Shut up.” Jack refused to look at him. “What about stilettos?”

“Women wear them voluntarily. On purpose. They pay extra for the privilege of balancing on pencil erasers.”

“Groundbreaking analysis. Call the sociology department.”

“I’m serious. Men’s fashion evolution went: uncomfortable, less uncomfortable, sweatpants. Enlightenment achieved. Women’s fashion went: uncomfortable, more uncomfortable, here’s a torture device from the Spanish Inquisition, but we made it beige.”

Jack checked the window. Nothing.

“Maybe they like being tall.”

“Platform sneakers exist. Wedges exist. Sensible block heels exist. Those chunky things that look like orthopedic equipment for fashionable astronauts.” Jones cracked a seed with surgical precision. “The stiletto isn’t about height. It’s about violence.”

“Violence.”

“Think about it. Historically, women couldn’t carry weapons. Swords, daggers, frowned upon. Very unlady-like. But shoes?” Jones gestured broadly, scattering shells. “Nobody regulates footwear. So some genius says, what if we put a three-inch steel spike on a pump and call it couture?”

“That’s actually not terrible.”

“I’m occasionally not terrible. Mark the calendar.”

The radio crackled. Static. The universe’s way of saying nothing was happening, and nothing would happen.

“You know they were daggers first,” Jones said. “Fifteenth century. Little needle-point shivs for punching through armor gaps.”

Jack checked the monitor. Still dark. “We are not talking about fashion history.”

“It’s tactical history. ‘Stiletto ’comes from stilus. The little metal spike Romans used for writing.” Jones pointed a shell at Jack. “It literally means ‘angry pen. ’The shoe is just a knife you can walk in.”

“You made that up.”

“Look it up. CIA even tried to weaponize them in the fifties. Program called Stiletto Rose. Pop-out blades in the heel.”

“Bullshit.”

“Swear to God. Total failure. Mechanics didn’t work. But someone tried.” Jones grinned. “Boredom is the mother of weapons development.”

Jack massaged his temples.

“Your ex-wife had stilettos, didn’t she?”

“Louboutins. Red soles. Cost more than my first car.” Jones found a seed worthy of consumption. “She never wore them. Kept them in the box. I asked why. She said they weren’t for wearing, they were for knowing she could wear them.”

“That explains the divorce.”

“Many things explain the divorce. Most of them are my fault. Some of them footwear-adjacent.”

The window remained dark. Jack was developing a personal vendetta against it.

The radio crackled.

“All teams, target vehicle approaching.”

Jack grabbed the camera. Jones swept the sunflower seeds aside.

“Finally,” Jones said. “I had a whole bit about platform shoes being siege equipment.”

“Save it.”

“Battering rams for the fashion-forward.”

“I will leave you here.”

Author Bio:

Başar Görür;

Writes geopolitical techno-thrillers grounded in institutions, leverage, and the real mechanics behind modern power. He has a BA degree in International Relations.

During his military service, he served on the personal staff of the Commander of the War Academies, working directly for a four-star air force general as an aide and translator. That experience informs how he writes briefings, decision cycles, and pressure under uncertainty.

He later held senior executive roles at PwC and at 3M Corporation headquarters, operating in multinational environments where cross-border incentives and capital flows shape outcomes. He now leads a private asset-management business.

Outside of work, he is a licensed captain and avid scuba diver who spends several months each year at sea and has traveled extensively. These experiences shape the Shadow Sovereign series.

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