#Spotlight from The #131PreviewReview Breathless (Death Viewers, Book 1) #TeaserTuedsay @shannonihayes @M00nlitdreams #WROTM

A Spotlight from The 131 Preview Review

Title:Breathless (Death Viewers, Book 1)

Author: +Christine M. Butler 

Book Blurb:

My name is Lacy McAdams and I am a Death Viewer, an agent of the highly trained Homicide Viewing Squad, otherwise known as the Death Squad. When a person dies suspiciously, I get called in to view their death. Actually, I get to rewind their memories up to 12 hours before their death. 
You'd think that would make solving murders a no-brainer, but there's a catch. When people are about to be murdered, they get that whole "life flashing before their eyes" thing going on, and suddenly what really happened is mixed with what they remember from their twelfth birthday party. 
In other words, a dying person's mind is a jumble of reality vs memory. It takes training, experience, and a lot of trial and error to get things right. I've been at it for quite a few years, learned a lot, and I have a natural talent for filtering out the realities from the memories. 
It's a good thing, because the most important case of my life just landed in my lap while I was at dinner with Brad. It was our third date and judging by how fast he took off, not to mention leaving me with the bill, I'd say he wasn't too thrilled to be dating a Death Viewer. Maybe I should have mentioned that on the first date?
Chances were good that I would never see Brad again, but the case that I got called in for was one that could make or break Homicide Viewing Squads nationwide. No pressure or anything... 

About the Author: 

Christine was born in a Naval hospital in Virginia, and while she was staring into the doctor's eyes as he marveled at her exceptionally long umbilical cord, all she was thinking was, 'I need to write this stuff down so I don't forget it.'  Hey, believe what you want, that's her story and she's sticking to it!  As soon as she could pick up pencil and paper and get those stories and poems out of her head, she was doing it.

Christine is the author of multiple paranormal fantasy books for both adults and young adults. She currently lives with her children and dog in Greenville, NC. Go Pirates! 

Author Links:

Facebook     Instagram    Twitter  TSU  GOODREADS 

Buy Links:

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#ThrowbackThursday The 131 Preview Review #Spotlights Going Thru Hell from Author T.J.Loveless @tjloveless3 @shannonihayes

 A Spotlight from The 131 Preview Review

Title: Going Thru Hell

Author: T.J. Loveless

Description: 

The journey through hell begins with one step.

KYLIE RIPPONS is a SpongeBob pajama bottom wearing, Dodge Ram 1500 4x4 driving, USDA certified klutz, coffee-addicted mortal, seeking a normal life despite the constant harassment of gods and the ability to braid time.

Kylie sees actions and consequences as bright, shining timelines in her head. Born with the power to gather the strings and braid them into a new chain of events, she is the weapon of choice for many pantheons in their never ending wars. But using the ability requires fuel, and for a mortal, it means a piece of her soul.

Excerpt:

I wanted to bang my head on the desk, but the boss would charge for damages.

Glancing around the tiny cubicle, I tried to find anything heavy to throw at the gabby and arrogant immortal. He'd only laugh at any pathetic attempt to shut him up with pencil holders and files. The PC tower might work. I shook my head, the paycheck didn’t need a hit.

The gray padded walls and built in desk didn’t allow for much, and I regretted not keeping at least a picture frame or two. The edges might cause him to give a funny yelp. He might not like it, but I’d be entertained.

To make matters worse, the immortal in question couldn't be seen by anyone else.  By staying in the fourth dimension, beyond mortal senses, Amun pestered me while normal humans remained ignorant of the truth.

I’d give almost anything to be normal.

I pulled my purse from under the desk, rummaging for objects to use as missiles. I gave up. Co-workers would have great stories of me throwing various objects at thin air. Last Christmas party notwithstanding, I didn't need more rumors circulating.

“Go. Away.” I narrowed my eyes. Tall, muscular and handsome, Amun was built like other male immortals I'd had the displeasure of meeting. The only difference seen in the bronze skin, beautiful mahogany colored eyes, and straight black hair. He always wore a stupid St. Louis Rams t-shirt, both wrists encircled by badly inked ram tats. Perfect picture of an idiot.

“Why should I endeavor to please you?” His voice silky smooth, making promises I knew he would never keep.

“Did it ever occur to your ego-filled, arrogant mind to be nice?”

“No. I am a god. You should do as you are bid.”

“You lose. Get out. No deal.”

I pulled up the latest Excel spreadsheet, inserted ear buds, and cranked the MP3 player to drown his ranting. A deep breath, and I concentrated on the computer. Four accounts to reconcile today, I didn't need the constant distractions of immortals. Despite the job’s monotony, I needed to pay bills. Eat, buy chocolate and a daily triple shot mocha latte, essentials to my sanity.

Amun wasn’t the only one pestering me, various immortals visited through the day. All wanted the same thing they’ve demanded since puberty hit fifteen years ago. To use the rare, inherited genetic mutation giving an ability no human, or immortal, should possess under any circumstance.

Anger bubbled below my skin, the need to lash out bringing several bright threads of various timelines to the forefront of the inner boob tube. Instinct pushed hard, to rid them with a floor show. Logic reminded me of the cost. I swallowed and concentrated. Far greater stakes sat on the table.

About the Author:

Born in Anchorage, I've lived ... well ... everywhere. From the Arctic Circle to a block from the beaches in Florida. I speak fluent Arkansas Hillbilly, make a mean gumbo, can sew when necessary and am a whiz at packing. 

Life's unexpected twists and turns have led me down paths from shoveling water to build roads, correctional officer at a men's maximum security unit, to helping do the research and co-authoring the scientific paper regarding dyslexia and genetic inheritance. I've met a lot of wonderful people along the way, and a few I'd prefer to forget. But always grateful for what I learned.

I'm also a copy/content editor, and found I love helping a story idea turn into a book, ready to be distributed to those that need the story. I enjoy helping others in their journey, even as I continue on mine. So many things to learn!

You'll generally find a Muse snuggled to my hip, the other one laying across my shoulders and Editor Kitty staring at the screen, waiting for the red ink to make an appearance. Once it does, he lays across the keyboard purring.

The family brags about the latest compromising position I've been found in, trying to figure out how to truly describe "legs all akimbo" or if falling on the couch could truly land a body in a certain position. They ignore my yelling at characters on the computer screen, and are forgiving when I accidentally write past the time for them to eat. It's one way of teaching the teenager to cook ...

Author Links: 

* Author Website * Blog * Facebook * Twitter * Google+ * Goodreads ** Cliffhanger Editing * Black Firefly *

Buy Links:

Amazon 

#TeaserTuesday The 131 Preview Review #Spotlight Bristol Boys Stomp From Doreen McGettian @doreenb8

 A Spotlight from The 131 Preview Review

Title: Bristol Boyz Stomp

Author +Doreen McGettigan 

Description: 

‘ROAD RAGE’ is what all the news shows and newspaper’s called it. To me, that sounded like a disease, an affliction that can make you kill.  A sorry excuse to take the claw end of a hammer and pound it repeatedly into the skull of another human being.

In April of 1999, my younger brother, David, passed away.  Doesn't passed away sound so gentle, even normal?  David’s death was neither, it was brutal murder.

This book is the true story of the random murder of my brother.  The youngest of five.  I am the oldest.  We were the book ends.

You will meet and fall in love with David, the victim.  He was a handsome soft spoken gentle giant with a great musical talent.  He was also a husband and Daddy.

The reader will agonize with the family as they spend seventy-two-hours in the intensive care unit watching Dave slip away.  They prayed for miracles and discussed organ donation while still trying to figure out exactly what happened that night.

The family will take you along on their frustrating journey navigating the justice system and learning to deal with the media.

You will become infuriated with the judge, the evil skirt and sneaker wearing district attorney who was only interested in winning an election, the defense lawyers and the murderer’s families lack of empathy or compassion.

The reader will agonize with the author as she struggles to share her story of grief, depression and defeat.

A painfully gripping, honest detail that will leave readers inspired to hug everyone they love and sadly; forever looking in the rear view mirror.

About the Author:

 When Doreen’s brother was murdered, she was shattered.  She dove head first into working; writing and learning.  Anything to keep herself  from feeling or dealing with her loss and the complete unraveling of her family.   Doreen  was fortunate enough to come in contact with some very special people at the Network of Victim Assistance.  She joined a Homicide Survivors Group and then became active in the state of Pennsylvania’s largest and most comprehensive victim service organization, NOVA,  as an advocate, board member and speaker.  She has become a voice for those affected by violence and bullying.  She has also become a champion for the elderly; who sometimes have trouble admitting they have been victimized.

Doreen has written for several Philadelphia area newspapers. She is now a respected freelance journalist, content writer, ghostwriter and author. She works part-time as a caregiver for the elderly, most of whom are hospice patients.

She is an active member of and also sits on the board of The Press Club, is a member of the Military Writers Society of America, the Nonfiction Authors Association, LB Creative Writers, Hot Pens, BC Speaker’s Bureau, and a workshop facilitator. She also owns a marketing company.

The author lives in Delaware County, Pa. just south of Philadelphia with her husband John and two little dogs.

Doreen and John have 5 grown children (2 more in heaven) and 13 grand children (their own little cult).

Their lives are not boring.

Author Links:

Website      Facebook     Twitter

Buy Links:

Amazon

Excerpt:

        When it was finally my turn to speak, I walked to the front of the courtroom and faced the judge. I got through my letter. Tears stung in my eyes, but I fought them off. I did the best I could. When I finished, Mel Kardos asked permission to question me. That had not happened to anybody else all day. I looked at Matt, and he shook his head yes. The judge granted the permission. I was shaking. He asked me where I worked. I was stunned. What was his point? I told the judge I was scared to say where I worked. I did not want any of them to know where I worked. I knew Kardos wanted me to say I worked at The Bucks County Courier Times. He was going to say I had something to do with the press coverage of this case. I was lucky if I got a pen in that building, let alone the power to drive the news. I turned to Kardos, smiled sarcastically, and answered I worked for a company called GPN. He was clearly annoyed that he did not get the answer he wanted. It was the truth. GPN was Greater Philadelphia Newspapers. I did not lie. That’s what was on my paychecks.

           I nervously looked over at Laurie Mason; she was the writer for The Bucks County Courier Times who covered all trials and court related events. She even had her own office in the basement of the courthouse. She smiled. I ran up to her as soon as it was over and asked her if I’d lied. She laughed and said no. She said it was amazing that I came up with the perfect truthful answer. I found out later from the prosecutor and the reporters that they had never, ever, heard someone questioned after giving an impact statement. It was another excuse to hate Mel Kardos. What an arrogant man he was.