I’m happy to welcome back Portuguese-British novelist M G da Mota. Today, she shares her new release, Arabesque.

Blurb

A woman living alone in a coastal Sussex town in 1998 plants a copper beech sapling at 3 a.m. on a dark, cold night. Why?

A ballet dancer in 1960s East Germany is oppressed, longs for escaping with his little daughter but not his wife. Why? Will he make it?

In 2022 Karsten von Stein, widower and principal of the Royal Ballet, with two young children, meets Ivone Benjamim, a Portuguese, newly-arrived principal dancer. They discover a magical chemistry when dancing and soon it transfers to their private lives.

Against the background of ballet and its dancers, a woman called Grace tells her story from a rehab centre. Obsessive, delusional she begins believing Ivone robbed her of the man of her dreams—Karsten. And then a skeleton is found in a garden…What connects all these people and their stories?

You’ll be the audience facing the stage of this balletic novel.

Exclusive Excerpt

Lacey and I took the tube from Sloane Square to Westminster. Lacey’s house was close to the square. She wasn’t happy about it. She employed a chauffeur who normally drove her into the city centre or out of town. Lacey could drive but didn’t like to. Her money allowed her to be driven. But I always felt awkward whenever I arrived somewhere with her in a chauffeured car. People stared. Possibly envious or just wondering who these two women could possibly be. I asked her to take public transport and, as it was my birthday, she agreed. So, from Westminster underground station we walked past Downing Street and the Horse Guards Parade to Trafalgar Square and from there along the Strand, heading to the Savoy where Lacey had booked a champagne afternoon tea for us. One of her treats for my birthday.

The day was cold but clear. Sunny. Well wrapped up in our winter coats, scarves, hats and gloves it was pleasant to walk in the sun though there was an icy bite to the air. The Strand bubbled with people. Crowds moved like waves along the pavements, occasionally surging across the road from one side to the other when the pedestrian lights turned to green and the cars stopped. Accidently I suddenly tripped on a flagstone bulging slightly from the others. It all happened very fast but for me it seemed as if I were acting in a slow motion movie. Abruptly I had no grip. My body was falling. Lacey was screaming. And a huge, enormous red bus approaching. I was in its path and unable to halt my fall. Impossible for the bus to stop in time. I tried desperately to grasp something or someone but failed.

‘Grace. Oh God, oh God.’

Lacey’s voice. She was still screaming. And at that precise moment a strong hand grabbed mine. A firm arm slid around my waist. I felt my body being lifted and pulled through the air. I landed on top of a person, not on the road in front of the bus but on the pavement. The safe side. The bus missed me by a whisker. Sitting on the ground I sensed someone was still holding me and lifting my eyes I looked up into the concerned face of the Stranger from the Strand, Karsten. He had saved my life or at least rescued me from certain injury. I couldn’t speak. Shock and surprise shook me in equal measure. His light brown eyes, speckled with tiny green dots, were warm. I wanted to kiss him. Lacey fell to her knees and hugged me, bringing me back to reality.

Author Bio and Links

M G da Mota is Margarida Mota-Bull’s pen name for fiction. She is a Portuguese-British novelist with a love for classical music, ballet and opera. Under her real name she also writes reviews of live concerts, CDs, DVDs and books for two classical music magazines on the web: MusicWeb International and Seen and Heard International. She is a member of the UK Society of Authors, speaks four languages and lives in Sussex with her husband. Her website, called flowingprose.com, contains photos and information.

Website | Facebook | Instagram | LinkedIn | Amazon UK Buy Link |
Amazon US Buy Link

Giveaway

The author will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Find out more here.

Follow the author on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.

I’m happy to welcome author and editor Jeyran Main. Today, Jehran shares her new release, The Radical Realism of Jesus.

Blurb

The Radical Realism of Jesus explores how Christ’s life and teachings confront the assumptions of our modern world. From rationalism and empiricism to pragmatism and nihilism, Jesus’ words intersect with philosophy, science, and contemporary culture—offering a lived, transformative faith that challenges, inspires, and equips readers to live fully in the 21st century

Excerpt

From the beginning, Jesus has consistently defied human expectations. He clashed with religious authorities, challenged societal norms, and even surprised his own disciples. Faith, as Kierkegaard emphasized, is a tension-filled encounter with the unpredictable claim of God. Jesus does not allow us to tame Him with neat definitions; He is the living Word who confronts our assumptions and stretches our understanding of God and the world.

In a modern age defined by scientific revolutions, technological advancements, and rationalist philosophies, many of us search for certainty, meaning, and moral guidance. Yet, the Gospel remains disruptive. Jesus is not an abstract ideal; He is historical, embodied, and relational. He experienced hunger, fatigue, betrayal, and hope. He engaged life fully, showing that realism and spiritual depth are not mutually exclusive. Even in a world governed by measurement, reason, and empiricism, Jesus challenges us to consider ethics, purpose, and human flourishing in ways that transcend material explanation.

This book examines Jesus within contemporary frameworks of thought—from Rationalism and Empiricism to Pragmatism and Scientism—showing that His life and teachings remain radically relevant. The Kingdom of God is not abstract; it demands reflection, engagement, and action. Jesus remains aspirational and transformative, inviting each reader to wrestle with faith, reason, and the meaning of life in a modern context.

Author Bio and Links

Jeyran Main has spent years immersed in the world of books as an editor. She is the author of God’s Surprising Way: The Path to Lasting Joy, Healing, and Love and serves as Editor-in-Chief of Living in the Light of the Cross magazine. Through her platform, HeavenlyHarmonyHub.com, she shares resources that encourage thoughtful engagement with faith. Guided by a passion for seeking truth, Jeyran now turns to the radical teachings of Jesus, exploring how they confront cultural assumptions and invite us into a transformed way of living that endures beyond cultural trends.

Website | Heavenly Harmony Hub | Amazon Buy Link

Giveaway

Jeyran Main will award a $10 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly selected winner. Find out more here.

Follow Jeyran on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.

I’m happy to welcome award-winning author Margaret Izard. Today, Margaret shares her creative journey and new release, Highlander’s Holly & Ivy.

Here’s Margaret!

What was your inspiration for this book?

Both of my Scottish Christmas romances were born from a single idea that has always inspired me: tradition. The ones we inherit, the ones we cling to, and the ones we create when life demands something new.

Thistle in the Mistletoe was inspired by Roderick MacDougall and Mary Comyn, two quiet background characters from Stone of Love whose connection stayed with me long after the book ended. I kept wondering what their winter would look like in the Highlands, surrounded by candlelight, feasts, clan customs, and the small comforts that become anchors in difficult times. Their shared morning carrot cake became the emotional symbol of their story—proof that even the simplest ritual can hold an entire love between its layers.

Highlander’s Holly & Ivy came from a very different spark: a tiny wedding announcement I found in an old Scottish newspaper about a Highland solicitor marrying an “English rose.” That single line opened the door to Alex MacDougall and Iris Erskine’s romance, set in the uncertain years after Culloden. Their love became a story about which traditions survive upheaval, which must change, and how two people can build new ones together. The holly and the ivy—evergreen, rooted, resilient—became the perfect metaphor for their bond.

In the end, both books were inspired by the same truth: holiday traditions are stories we pass from one heart to another. And in the Highlands, as in real life, love is always the heart of every tradition worth keeping.

Describe your writing space.

My writing space didn’t start out glamorous.

For years, I tried writing in the main chair in our great room—also known as Grand Central Station in my house. With triplets, pets, and the natural chaos of family life, that experiment didn’t last long.

Everything changed after a vacation when I fell in love with the cozy little study nook in our rental. It inspired us to convert the old wet bar in our game room into a tiny study-and-beverage corner. Now it’s my office. It’s still open to the rest of the home—close enough to life, but tucked away enough for imagination to thrive.

This little corner has become the heart of my romantasy universe.

My outlines sprawl, my books come to life, and my dragons, fae, and Highlanders all find their beginnings right there. It’s warm, practical, creative, and unmistakably mine.

Besides writing and reading, what are some of your hobbies?

Outside of writing and reading, my hobbies are wonderfully eclectic. I collect earrings—far too many—and each pair feels like a tiny piece of wearable art. I’m a huge musical-theatre fan, so there’s usually a soundtrack playing somewhere in the house. I love to cook and can lose entire evenings watching cooking videos before trying new dishes in my kitchen.

I also adore traveling and exploring new places, especially the ones that feed my imagination. And when I’m home, you can usually find me in the garden, tending to plants with the same care I give my characters. Add in my obsession with holiday decorating—Halloween through Christmas is practically a sport in our house—and you’ve got a good picture of my creative life outside writing.

Any advice for aspiring writers?

My advice for aspiring authors is simple: write.

Put the words on the page—even if they’re messy, even if they feel terrible, even if they’re nothing like the story in your head. You can’t edit a blank page, but you can shape and polish something that exists. And you should—re-read, revise, and refine as many times as it takes.

I’m a huge plotter, so outlining is my best friend. Sometimes my outlines run over 200 pages and even include bits of dialogue. Planning gives me direction and lets me fix big problems before I ever start drafting. You don’t have to outline like I do, but find the system that keeps you confident and moving forward.

Remember to read widely, write often, and don’t try to do this alone. Community matters. Other writers matter. Support makes the journey easier.

And finally—give yourself grace. This is a craft, not a sprint. Show up, be consistent (I’m a 9–5 writer myself), and trust that your voice deserves to be heard.

If you start, you’ll finish. If you don’t…your book stays a dream.

What are you working on next?

As the year unfolds, I’m stepping into a bittersweet milestone: the release of Stone of Destiny, book 7, the final book in the Stones of Iona series, on February 9th. This world—its Fae realms, time crossings, fierce Highland warriors, and fragile threads of destiny—has lived in my imagination for years. Saying goodbye to it feels like finishing a long, beloved journey.

Bound by destiny, torn by fate—their love stood unbroken, victorious over all.

In this final installment, Kat MacArthur—still grieving her brother’s loss to another time (Stone of Faith)—finds herself drawn again to Ceallach, the Fae warrior she’s loved from a distance. Their connection has always simmered beneath the surface, but now the Gathering of the Iona Stones threatens to tear them apart.

Ceallach is bound by duty to the Stones, haunted by prophecy, and terrified that loving a mortal could cost Kat her life. When dark forces rise to seize the Stones and their power, he faces an impossible choice: defy destiny or surrender to love.

This is a story of sacrifice, fate, longing—and the kind of love that refuses to die, even when the world demands it.

What Comes After: The Dragons of Tantallon?

As one saga reaches its end, a new one unfurls its wings.

Next, I’ll be turning my focus to my next series, Dragons of Tantallon, a sweeping romantasy series that follows three dragon-shifting brothers cursed by their ruthless father, Balor, the exiled King of the Formoire Fae.

Born of forbidden love between a Fae and a human woman, these brothers defied their father’s darkness. They risked everything to return the Stones of Hope, Faith, and Love to the Good Fae—and Balor repaid them with a curse: immortality without a soul mate… and eternity sealed in crystal if they fail to complete the ancient bonding ritual.

Each book will follow one brother’s journey, as well as their offspring, through magic, temptation, danger, redemption, and fated love. Their choices will determine whether the curse ends—or if the realms fall into shadow.

Magic. Romance. Sacrifice. Soul mates. The fate of two worlds rests in their hands.

2026 brings the end of one epic tale… and the beginning of another.

If you’ve walked the path of the Iona Stones with me, I cannot wait to welcome you into the world of the Dragons of Tantallon. The magic continues—just with wings, fire, and a legacy waiting to be broken.

Blurb

A Christmas Companion book to the Stones of Iona Series.

In a land torn by politics and heritage, Alex MacDougall—Scotland’s Lord Justice Clerk—balances loyalty to the British crown and his secret role in preserving outlawed Scottish traditions. When tasked with retrieving a mystical stone tied to Scotland’s destiny, he crosses paths with Lady Iris Erskine, an Englishwoman captivated by Scottish culture. Disguised as Ivy, Iris masquerades as a highland lassie to be close to the dashing highlander.

Love blossoms between Alex and Ivy as tensions simmer between the English and Scots. While Iris vexes over revealing the truth to her handsome Scot, Alex grapples with his family’s secret duty to protect magic Fae stones. With his beloved targeted and hidden truths emerging, the world he once knew dissolves before his eyes.

Can two hearts bound by fate be enough to stave off an evil Fae intent on destroying the MacDougall Clan, or will Alex lose all he loves?

Excerpt

The man in the blue plaid from last week approached and took Laurel’s hand. “Laurel Comyn, I am happy to see ye this week.” His regard drifted to her. “And yer friend as well.” His eyes went to her arisaid, “A Comyn. She’s ye…?”

Laurel shifted closer to him as she waved to Iris. “John MacArthur, my cousin Ivy Comyn.”

Mabina spoke from beside her. “She’s mute, John. Lost her voice.” Iris nodded and moved her hand to her throat.

A voice deep and rich called out over the crowd. “Welcome all!”

Everyone turned and perched on a box he stood—him, the man in the red plaid from last week. His deep black hair fell to his shoulders loose. As he raised his flask, his muscles undulated under the fabric of his shirt. Her focus traveled down, and today, he didn’t wear trews under his plaid. Bare knees exposed above his woolen socks and boots fit for working on a farm were on his feet. Her knees became weak, and she reached out to Laurel as she stumbled.

Laurel took her hand. “First time ye seen bare knees, lassie? Does the same to me every time.” When Iris’ gaze returned to him, his eyes were on her.

He nodded her way and called out. “To whisky and Scotland!” The crowd repeated his toast, and everyone broke out in conversation.

Laurel turned to speak to John, leaving Iris beside the crowd. Many mingled and spoke lively. Men offered others sips from their flasks as the women huddled together, gossiping about whatnot. Iris picked up a Gaelic word here and there. Taigh for house and bonnach for bannock. She enjoyed the rich brogue of the men’s voices and the rolling of the r’s in the women. Their outspoken banter brought a smile to her face.

A gust of wind blew through the area, clearing the slaughterhouse stench but brought on a chill. Iris went to cover her head, and her arisaid fell on one side.

“Here, lassie, allow me.” His rich baritone voice sent chills down her spine, and as she turned, she came face to face with—him.

He’d caught her plaid and wrapped it around her body, tucking it into the folds so it stayed put in the breeze. “My ma taught me the simple fold to keep her plaid in place.” His hand lingered on the fabric near her face. “Comyn, ye are a Comyn, like my ma.”

She swallowed and shivered again, but not from the cold. The light blue of his eyes lit up the night as they followed hers. She glanced down again, unsure what to do without a voice to converse with.

When her face rose, his eyes crinkled. “Have I scared ye lass?” His hand dropped, and he blew his breath. “I didn’t mean to.” She stared at him, a highlander she craved to be near, her highlander. He cleared his throat. He’d asked her something. Iris shook her head, her hand going to her throat. She opened her mouth, and nothing came out but air, hoping to get her point across.

Her Highlander’s eyebrows rose. “Ye can’t speak?” Iris shook her head.

His smile bent kind of sideways. “I am Alex, Alex MacDougall.” He took her hand in his and caressed it. “What shall I call ye then?”

Iris’s focus went to the greenery décor, and he followed. “Holly?” She shook her head, her gaze never leaving his.

He grinned. “Ivy then?”

Author Bio and Links

Margaret Izard is an award-winning author of historical fantasy and paranormal romance novels. Her latest awards are 2024 Reader’s Favorite Honorable Mention for Stone of Love and 2024 Spring BookFest Silver Award for the same title. She spent her early years through college to adulthood dedicated to dance, theater, and performing. Over the years, she developed a love for great storytelling in different mediums. She does not waste a good story, be it movement, the spoken, or the written word. She discovered historical romance novels in middle school, which combined her desire for romance, drama, and fantasy. She writes exciting plot lines, steamy love scenes and always falls for a strong male with a soft heart. She lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and adult triplets.

Website | Facebook | Linktree

Giveaway

Margaret Izard will be awarding a Highlander’s Holly & Ivy swag box* ($100 value) to a randomly drawn winner *US Only*. Find out more here.

Follow Margaret on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.

I’m happy to welcome Portuguese-British novelist M G da Mota. Today, she shares her new release, Verb Tenses.

Blurb

Thirty-four-year-old Raquel Whiteman has it all: beauty, a high-powered career, a very rich fiancée, a loving brother and a stepfather she adores. Life is good. Until her mother commits suicide. Clearing the paraphernalia of her mother’s life she finds old photographs and journals which plunge her into a search for the truth about her real father and early childhood, forsaking everything including her engagement to travel a path she is powerless to resist. Like a giant wave the past travels fast and comes crashing down on her, flooding her mind with incomprehensible fragmented memories and continuous questions – What? Why? Why?

Excerpt

The little girl opened her eyes wide, trying to pierce the darkness. She lifted her head off the pillow, listening intently. All she could hear was the wind blowing wildly, the thunder, and the ocean, raging, beating against the sand and the surrounding cliffs. The house shook with the fury of the storm, as if the sea were angry at its presence and wanted to wash it away. Scared, the little girl pulled the covers over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for sleep. Images of fairy tales floated into her mind. She remembered the story her mother’s best friend had read earlier. It was the story of a little girl, like herself, who went on a summer picnic with her teddy-bear friends. She smiled. A feeling of warmth spread in her chest, her body relaxed, her mind began to drift; and then, she heard it.

A scream. A horrible scream, louder than the storm, from somewhere in the house. Jerking upright, heart thumping, her breath accelerated, became noisy, difficult. She stared into the darkness, listening. There was no mistake. The screams continued then stopped, abruptly. There was a short silence, then voices. Angry voices. Then the sound of glass splintering on the floor. She whispered, afraid, ‘Mummy … mummy, I’m scared.’

Lightning slashed the darkness, briefly brightening the room through the gaps in the shutters. Thunder was deafening. Trembling the little girl rolled out of bed and walked to the door. Opening it slowly she peered into the hall. Light spilled out from the open door of her mother’s bedroom. Relief flooded through her. The storm had woken Mummy too. Running in she cried, ‘Mummy, I’m scared of—’.

Author Bio and Links

M G da Mota is Margarida Mota-Bull’s pen name for fiction. She is a Portuguese-British novelist with a love for classical music, ballet and opera. Under her real name she also writes reviews of live concerts, CDs, DVDs and books for two classical music magazines on the web: MusicWeb International and Seen and Heard International. She is a member of the UK Society of Authors, speaks four languages and lives in Sussex with her husband. Her website, called flowingprose.com, contains photos and information.

Website | Facebook | Instagram | LinkedIn

Giveaway

M G da Mota will be awarding a $20 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Find out more here.

Follow the author on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.

I’m happy to welcome award-winning author and poet Mark A. Hill. Today, Mark shares his creative journey and new release, Mitchell Rose and the Bologna Massacre.

Here’s Mark!

What was your inspiration for this book?

I have always written, whether it be poetry, lessons, courseware or angry notes on the fridge to my wife and son. Writing is an emotional release, a way of saying things that you don’t have the time or energy to express during the working day.

I have had my poetry published in assorted collections. I had written two somewhat complex, obscure novels and notwithstanding the many compliments on my style and the kind words received, I’d had difficulty in finding a willing publisher. Besides, I guess you never know if someone is really complimenting you when you receive a selection of rejections. I decided that I needed a more structured approach to writing so I decided I would write a crime novel.

In 2019, I was teaching a group of judges and ex-judges in Bologna. It was a state sponsored courses that Italian institutions organize for certain privileged social groups and during those lessons, we started to talk about the Bologna massacre of 1980. That year, there was a terrorist bombing of Bologna Centrale railway station, which killed 85 people and injured over 200. It was Italy’s most serious terrorist attack. Several members of the neo-fascist terrorist organization Nuclei Armati Rivoluzionari (NAR, Armed Revolutionary Nuclei) were subsequently sentenced for the bombing.

I did some reading around the subject and decided that the whole incident was so compelling and there were so many conspiracy theories that reverberated around it, that there was probably enough material for a novel.

What is the best part of being an author? The worst?

The best part is being able to create something tangible with all the stuff that is going on in my head. The noises become reality.

The worst thing is all the thoroughly necessary revision that has to be done by me and the editing team.

Describe your writing space.

It’s a fairly cluttered desk. There’s a photo of my son a and a load of notes about work to complete and different types of writing I aim to engage in today.

Which authors have inspired you?

I can tell you who my favourite writers are, but I’m not sure if that will give you much of a clue as to how the book is written or what the book feels like. I guess they’ve inspired me because they are all brilliant.

What can I say? Shakespeare, Austen, Dostoyevsky, Mailer, Sartre, Salinger. All writers who wrote like angels and one could only ever hope to emulate, people I imagine I probably won’t get close to. I guess the nearest thing to an inspiration would be Raymond Chandler or Georges Simeon? In fact, what I started doing was reading through these old pamphlet-like novelettes that my father-in-law had accumulated from the 1950s and 1960s and I read them in Italian and tried to use then as a style guide. Whenever I sensed that my writing was becoming too high-flown, I would stop myself, go back to these pamphlets and try to tone down the style. Out with the adjectives, trim down the adverbs, absolutely no use of a Thesaurus, Mark. Just try to tell the reader what is happening

What is your favorite quote?

“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.” Charles Bukowski.

If you had a superpower, what would it be?

I’d just go forward in time, collect some information, place a few bets, and put a little bit of money in the bank. Life would be easier.

Besides writing and reading, what are some of your hobbies?

I swim 9 months a year in the sea in front of my house and I cycle. I read lots, clearly.

Any advice for aspiring writers?

At the risk of being banal, it’s like a start-up; set yourself goals, work hard, don’t be disheartened by rejection, and perhaps most importantly, don’t give up the day job or invest all your time and money in one single idea.

I always look on with wonder when I see those Hollywood films where the husband/boyfriend declares that he’s gonna quit his teaching post for two years and write the great American novel. Without exception, it is always a man. The girlfriend/wife acquiesces and agrees to bring up the children and work the night shift as a grinder chipper for the following two years. Inevitably, the book remains unfinished, unpublished, and gets pulped. Surprisingly, the great American novel rarely emerges. You might write something good; you might get something published; you might even make some money. However, you have to recognize that it’s incredibly unlikely that you are gonna’ write the great American novel.

What are you working on next?

The follow-up to this novel, “Mitchell Rose and the London Bombings,” and I am promoting my collected poems around Italy from January. Here’s the link.

Blurb

Mitchell Rose and the Bologna Massacre is a crime story that explores the last fifty years of cross-fertilisation between the Italian criminal underworld, its secret services, politics and the judicial system.

When Mitchell Rose is called to Milan by Remo Rhimare, a local judge who wants him to investigate the Bologna bombing of 1980, he knows it would make more sense to turn the job down.

To make things even more complicated, Rhimare also wants Rose to rein in his errant daughter, who is becoming increasingly wayward.

As Rose begins to investigate, the two missions surprisingly become one, culminating in a dreadful dramatic climax.

Excerpt

I twitched nervously. The will to move out of there and toward the action was strong. I wanted to be an integral part of the scene that I could see reflected there in the mobile phone. Alessandra raised a hand and made a gesture that encouraged me to stay put. In doing so, she touched me softly on the left shoulder with her long fingernails. Being discovered there would put me back to square one. Robuyuki was gonna get his from Cambio’s guards, but I had to stay still, I couldn’t move.

“It’s also my favourite drink.” The chef offered.

“But you don’t drink, Robuyuki.”

Robuyuki lifted the glass to his lips and forced the drink down his neck, licking his lips with satisfaction.

Cambio had been silenced and we heard the clumped, mechanical tramping of feet as they exited the restaurant. Alessandra heaved a sigh of relief and we slowly moved apart. I poured a glass of Grand Marnier into the glass that I had seized and we shared it there in the cellar. The sense of relief was overwhelming and we hugged each other, but without the intensity that there had been between us moments before. There was still a layer of fear that lay like a film across the room, and that fear had rendered us sexless siblings. Robuyuki knocked on the cellar door and we climbed back up and thanked him sincerely.

Author Bio and Links

Mark is a novelist, poet, translator and English teacher. He has lived in Cagliari, Italy for 33 years.

His poetry has been published in The UK Poetry Library’s Top Writers of 2012 and the Live Canon 2013 Prize Anthology. In 2016, one of his poems was commissioned, published and performed at The Victoria and Albert Museum, London, for the anniversary of hakespeare’s death. In 2024, he was published by Pierian press, Dreichmag, Cerasus press and Southlight 36 edition. In 2025, he has been published in the Penumbra Journal of Literature, Rituals, Art at California State University Stanislaus, Book of Matches and And Other Poems.

He is the winner of the Azerate poetry prize and his debut poetry collection, “Death and the Insatiable” was published in September 2025. https://hiddenhandbooks.com/azerate-poetry-prize His first novel “Mitchell Rose and The Bologna Massacre” was published by Wallace Publishing in July 2025.

Facebook | Twitter | Website | Amazon UK | Amazon US | Amazon De |
Amazon IT

Giveaway

Mark A. Hill will be awarding a $15 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Find out more here.

Follow Mark on the rest of his Goddess Fish tour here.

I’m happy to welcome back multi-published author Petie McCarty. Today, Petie shares her new release, Seal Watch.

Blurb

Someone is watching Cory. She can feel it in her bones . . . but why?

Navy SEAL Sean MacKay’s teammate is murdered after stealing a deadly nerve gas formula from Syrian terrorists. Naval Intelligence believes MacKay’s teammate was a traitor and shipped the stolen formula to his sister in the States for safekeeping. MacKay is ordered to find the sister before the terrorists do and to recover the stolen formula at all costs.

Foreclosure looms for Cory Rigatero as she struggles to keep her rustic resort near Mt. St. Helens afloat after her brother abandoned her to join the SEAL Teams. Cory’s whole world plummets into a tailspin when Sean MacKay shows up at her resort with news of her brother’s death and the shocking suspicion that her brother sent her traitorous classified documents.

No way will Cory ever trust MacKay—the man who once seduced her and then vanished into the night without a trace.

Excerpt

Cory stopped in the kitchen on her way outside. “I thought I’d go out front and see if Vern needed any help.”

“He’s all done,” Cookie told her and handed Garth a dog biscuit from the jar on the counter. “He had a boy out front helping him when I peeked out the window a bit ago.”

“A boy? You mean Jasper?”

“No, I’ve never seen this one around here before.” Cookie went back to stirring her pot. “Handsome, though,” she added. “They headed for the barn.”

“I’d better go see who it is,” Cory said, already striding for the back door.

She called out as soon as she reached the open barn doors, and Vern hollered from the small office that doubled as his shop. Cory threaded her way through all the equipment in the back half of the barn. Cookie’s stranger stood up when she appeared in the doorway, and Cory froze. This was no boy. This was a man. All man. And he literally stole Cory’s breath away. She had read that in novels before. Never believed it to be possible.

Until now.

Shaggy hair and dark brown curls, perfectly teamed with a matching beard, were her first thought. Her second thought was broad—really broad—shoulders beneath his black flannel shirt, and hips so narrow that his black jeans sagged a smidge on his tall, muscular frame. His sleeves were rolled up, and those forearms and biceps belonged to a working man. Good grief! Stop staring, Cory!

She caught herself before she licked her lips and jerked her gaze back to his face. Blue eyes that snared her gaze like a predator traps unsuspecting prey. Those blue eyes sparkled with just enough mischief to send a wicked flutter through her belly. Blue eyes that looked startlingly familiar.

Maybe she just wanted them to look familiar, so she could already know this handsome man.

“Mac here is our new help.”

Author Bio and Links

Petie spent a majority of her career at Walt Disney World—”The Most Magical Place on Earth”— where she loved working in the land of fairy tales by day and crafting her own romantic fairy tales by night, including her series, The Cinderella Romances. She eventually said goodbye to her “day” job to focus on her stories full-time.

These days, Petie spends her time writing new tales for her Cinderella series, her new paranormal-romantic-suspense series, The Watchers, sequels to her Regency time-travel series, Lords in Time, and more standalones like Any Fin For Love and Ambush in the Everglades.

Petie shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her horticulturist husband and an opinionated Nanday conure named Sassy, who makes a cameo appearance in Christmas Watch, Book 2 of The Watchers series.

Visit Petie at her website, http://www.petiemccarty.com, or her Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/petie.mccarty, to get to know her, learn about her current projects, and discover her other published works.

Website | Facebook | X | Goodreads | BookBub | Amazon Author Page |
Amazon Buy Link

Giveaway

Petie McCarty will be giving away a $10 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card. Find out more here.

Follow Petie on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.