Excerpt, Giveaways, Reviews

#Review of Ambush in the Everglades by Petie McCarty w/a rafflecopter giveaway! @authorpetie #romanticsuspense

Ambush in the Everglades

by Petie McCarty


GENRE: Romantic Suspense 



Plenty of action-adventure in this romantic-suspense tale. Photographer Kayli Heddon is given the biggest assignment of her career—a photo essay on the Everglades Restoration—and a special airboat safari is arranged, so Kayli can get her pictures. What she doesn’t count on is being stranded alone in the Everglades with her handsome and unpredictable airboat guide. Kayli is forced to learn some tough lessons. Trust means everything in the dangerous River of Grass, and a skilled partner makes all the difference in your survival. 

Skye Landers takes the airboat safari gig as a favor to his cousin who is called out of town. Skye doesn’t expect the governor’s photographer to catch his eye, but Kayli Heddon is unlike any woman he has ever met. He knows he should keep his distance, but common sense flies out the window whenever she gets near. 

Unfortunately, Kayli thinks honesty is the most important thing in a relationship—any relationship—and Skye Landers is a fraud. When secrets surface from his past, Kayli and Skye are soon on the run from more than just alligators.


Excerpt One:

Leaping over palmettos and tree roots and dodging half-buried cypress knees, they raced for their boat as the whine in the distance grew louder. Kayli recognized the whine as a second airboat. She couldn’t stop running if she wanted to, Skye had a death grip on her hand.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she shouted, “and why are we running?”

Twenty more yards, and they reached the airboat. The approaching craft sounded closer by the second.

He dropped her hand to grab the bow line. “Get in the boat,” he ordered.

She stopped dead. “No.”

He whipped around with a fearsome glare.

“Not until you tell me why we’re running.” 

This was so unlike the man she’d come to know over the last two days at close quarters. He looked . . . well, scared.

“Crane Tennapin is on his way here with drug runners to make a pick up.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “Who is Crane Tennapin?”

“Another cousin, now let’s go.” He pushed on the bow of the airboat. “I’ve got to get you out of here. I’ll leave you at Sally’s.”

“I’m staying with you.”

“You can’t. I have to come back to help Crane.”

The whine grew louder and closer.

She froze. “You’re coming back to help a drug dealer?”

“Hell no!” he roared and softened his voice when she flinched. “Crane’s in over his head. He got mixed up with the Colombians before he knew about the drugs. Now they’re threatening to turn him in if he doesn’t help them with this drop.” 

He motioned her over and held out a hand. “Come on, come on.”

“What if you don’t get back in time?” She couldn’t believe she wasn’t scrambling into the airboat.

He had her by the shoulders in two steps and stared hard in her eyes. “I can’t let anything happen to you.” 

The emotion in his voice wrapped around her heart like long tentacles, and she couldn’t pull free. She didn’t want to.

Her arms flew around his neck, and Skye crushed her to his chest, his mouth hard against hers. A flood of emotion rifled through her unlike anything she’d ever felt in her life. She wanted to fold her soul into his and never let him go. She had wanted this can’t-let-you-go kiss from the moment she laid eyes on Skye. She wanted the kiss to last forever.

Precious seconds were squandered. The airboat whine grew louder, and his head jerked up. 


“There’s no time to get me out.” 

No way would she leave him, not with drug runners coming. She might never see him again.

He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “You have to trust me.”

She nodded. “What’re you going to do?”

“Sink the airboat.”

Ms. McCarty is fast becoming one of my favorite writers.  In fact, I hope that she continues in the romantic suspense category.  She writes her action scenes that make you feel like you are right in it with the characters.  Her heroines can hold there own and the heroes realize that the woman in their life is quite capable.

Kayli is no shrinking violet.  Look, I would be freaking out about leeches and roaches like any sane person so I can get that with her.  She takes her punches and moves on from it.  Skye doesn’t need to “rescue” her in the book.  Oh no, I can’t even imagine how that would have worked out.  Not well, not well at all.  In fact, I think Kayli would have left him high and dry even if he tried.  They were equals in the end and it made for a better relationship and book.

Now, did Skye really lie to her about his lineage or what he really was?  Not really.  He had his life on the river and that was good enough for him.  He enjoyed it and was good at it.  In fact, I think he was a bit embarrassed about it.  Did he tease her at the beginning of the book?  You bet but it made for great tension between them and made them work hard for the relationship that neither one of them saw coming.  I love when an author does that with their characters.

The secondary characters in the book are top-notch.  There is a bit of Native American folklore that was extremely interesting and very important to their story.  Especially Skye.  When everything was said and done in the end, Wren was the most important character in the book.  The mysticism towards the end of the book was intriguing and made the whole book come together.  Ms. McCarty did her research when it came to sights and sounds of the river, too.  Just once I would like to ride a riverboat for the rush.  Well, and to also see the Everglades in person, too.

Ms. Carty has written a brilliant action-packed, slow-burn romance in the suspense department.  Again, she is becoming one of my all-time favorite authors.  Pick her books up to read.  You won’t be sorry.



AUTHOR Bio and Links:


Petie spent a large part of her career working at Walt Disney World—”The  Most Magical Place on Earth”—where she enjoyed working in the land of fairy tales by day and creating her own romantic fairy tales by night, including her new series, The Cinderella Romances. She eventually said good-bye to her “day” job to write her stories full-time. These days Petie spends her time writing sequels to her regency time-travel series, Lords in Time, and her cozy-mystery-with-romantic-suspense series, the Mystery Angel Romances.

Petie shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her horticulturist husband and an opinionated Nanday conure named Sassy who made a cameo appearance in No Angels for Christmas. 

Visit Petie’s web site online at http://www.petiemccarty.com or her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/petie.mccarty.










Petie McCarty will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC and three ebook copies of The Angel and the SEAL to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Excerpt, Giveaways, Spotlight

Spotlight featuring Alice, a Memoir by Alice Gilmore w/a rafflecopter giveaway! @AlicetheWife1

Alice, a Memoir

by Alice Gilmore


GENRE: Non-fiction



Few, if anyone, could have had a life like Alice Gilmore. It was almost unbelievable yet carried on under the cover of a respectable middle-class existence.

You might strongly disapprove of what she did, but Alice was determined. She overcame insurmountable obstacles to keep the love she longed for.

Her single-minded fight to live out her love makes a gripping, riveting story that one eminent literary person called ‘staggeringly readable’. It is shocking. Her methods will upset some, but are you with her or against her? Your decision.

This is no misery memoir. It’s a story told with joy, wit and fervour – the astonishing story of the overwhelming love Alice Gilmour was determined to live out.


Excerpt One:

I am going to tell you our story, my darlings. It is really only for you three and one other (you know who) but I can’t help hoping that the world will read it, which is why I shall probably publish it. But not for some years. When you’re fully grown up and have flown the nest. God knows what they will make of it, the world I mean, whoever they are, but I am not suggesting that any rules or taboos should be changed by our story, or new rules made. Leave all that alone. Our story, perhaps I should say my story, just is. You could tritely call it the exception that proves the rule. Perhaps that is just what it is: unique. I doubt that but it is certainly extraordinary. I have carefully chosen those words. Any old event of yawning banality is called ‘amazing’, ‘fantastic’, ‘unbelievable’, ‘fabulous’ in our current jargon. Whatever else people may call my story it is certainly extraordinary.

It is, above all, a love story, an all-consuming love story, though I have never felt consumed by love, rather continually renewed. But isn’t that what love should do to you? Consume you and renew you constantly like the phoenix. And it brought with it another constant emotion: fear. And pain. The fear of pain. The fear of the pain of losing it, this wonderful state. The word love doesn’t fully express what I/we felt. Another word that is more or less totally debased.



AUTHOR Bio and Links:

If you want to know about my life and background read this book. I can scarcely add to what I have written about myself in there. I earnestly hope that the rest of my life is too uneventful to even consider writing anything else, I am no novelist. The life I have described was full enough and rich enough for me. God knows what I would come out with if I had to invent. If you find you need a good chef I shall consider anything not too energetic – which rules out most jobs in the kitchen.













One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.

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Excerpt, Giveaways

Excerpt from The Legendary Wolf by Ammar Habib w/a rafflecopter giveaway! @AmmarAHabib1 #thriller @PrismBookTours

On Tour with Prism Book Tours

The Legendary Wolf
By Ammar Habib
Adult Thriller
ebook, 226 Pages
July 12th 2019

From Bestselling & Award-Winning author Ammar Habib comes this brutal tale of redemption!

Men Die. Legends Don’t.

Decades ago, Grayson Wolf locked away the demons inside him. Once a legendary assassin named after Mors, the Roman embodiment of death, Grayson is now a shadow of the man he was before. He suffers every waking hour, haunted by his past as he begs for death to end his torment.

However, Grayson is pulled back into the shadowy world of espionage when an old comrade shows up at his front door with a young girl he is trying to rescue from sinister men. Suddenly hunted by an army of deadly mercenaries, Grayson is left with no choice but to protect the girl. But deep inside, something happens. He finds a light in the darkness, a light he thought was dead. The demons Grayson chained up–the legendary Mors–will be unleashed. And anyone standing in his way will have hell to pay.





The storm returns by the time night washes over Blackbrook. It’s worse than before. Fast falling rain breaks against my bedroom window like rocks. The howling wind mirrors the screams of ghouls and goblins. The thunder and lightning shake the very walls of the room and illuminate the sky in blinding flashes.  

I have a ritual for nights like these, nights where the drinks and pills aren’t enough to put me to sleep. 

It’s been hours since my home lost power. The muggy and still air grows warmer with every passing moment. Accompanying the blackness is dead silence, save for the splattering rain and chaos raging outside. 

My head hangs low. Sittin’ on a weathered and bare chair in the darkness, I feel it in my right hand: the cold grip of my aged Colt Dragoon. After all these years, the grip has seemed to mold so that it perfectly fits into my hand. This gun is the only friend I have, the only thing that shares even a sliver of my pain.

I open my eyes, my gaze cuttin’ through the abyss as I stare down at the weapon. The weapon is just as battered as I am. This model is an antique and would be put on display in any museum. But I have a much better use for it. 

The gun speaks to me through the silence. It grows heavier with each passing moment as it comforts me, letting me know that everything will be alright. It will only take one moment for it all to end, one moment to escape the prison. The longer I listen to the words, the drunker I become on ‘em—the more I accept them as the truth. 

With a quick motion, I pop out the cylinder. All six chambers are empty. I look over at my opposite hand. In it is a single round. The bullet is as old as the gun. Its once shining metal is rustin’, and its smooth surface has grown coarse.  

Taking a deep breath, I load the bullet into the pistol’s cylinder without a second thought. My thumb runs over the back of the loaded bullet.  

One bullet. Just like always. 

I spin the cylinder and look away. It spins around and around and around on its hinges. This is the same sound I hear almost every night. It’s not the sound that haunts me; it’s what happens next. The spinning starts to slow after a few moments. I slam the cylinder back into the gun, not seeing where the bullet ends. With a gradual motion, I cock back the cold hammer. My grasp around the pistol’s wooden grip tightens. I don’t hesitate. I lift the gun up and roughly shove the muzzle against the side of my head.  

How many nights have I done this? How many nights have I wanted it to all end? Maybe it’ll be tonight.

A sudden flash of lightnin’ brightens up the entire room, revealing who is sitting right across from me. She’s here for this ritual. Like always. Arms crossed, the woman’s hollow eyes are locked on me as my finger touches the trigger. A shiver runs up my spine. It’s not because of the gun. My hand starts to shake as I meet her gaze. 

Ophelia. She won’t leave me. She won’t stop haunting me. The more I look into Ophelia’s eyes, the more I beg God to kill me. 

The rain grows louder and faster. The air turns cold. The heavens again light up and tremor. The brightness reflects off of her once-beautiful face. Ophelia’s skin is pale, nearly just as colorless as the last time I saw it. Her gaze leaves my eyes and focuses on the gun as its muzzle stays pushed against my skull. 

For the first time all day, she smiles.  

She always smiles when she sees me like this. The expression is sickening, crueler than anythin’ else I’ve ever seen. That wicked grin is the one thing that haunts my every waking moment. It tempts me to pull the trigger. To put an end to this hell of living. 

My vision begins to tunnel on Ophelia as the storm outside is pushed to the crevices of my mind. I can hear my own breaths. Even my heartbeat. Her expression grows crueler the longer the rain pounds against the window. I can’t tear my eyes off of her as my soul itself seems to tremble faster. Her eyes begin to turn black, mirrorin’ those of a ghoul. Lifeless. Dead.

Those hollow eyes taunt me. They know I want to die. They’re tempting me to pull the trigger. On the other end of this hell I’ve lived in is a hell waiting to punish me for all the things I’ve done. But…I don’t care. I just want it to end.

Ophelia’s gaze is intoxicating. Her mocking eyes spear my soul, but it feels too good. Pain is reassurance, and anguish is comfort. I’ve lived with this intoxication for too long, I’ve carried the torment for too many years to know any different. Now the torment is the only thing I live for…and it’s the thing I’ll die for. 

Lightning illuminates the dark heavens once again. My grip tightens as my hand starts to shake more feverously. My gaze stays on Ophelia. Let today be the day this ends. God, let this end tonight. 

I pull the trigger.  


No bullet is fired. I lose…again. 

I keep the gun pressed up against my skull, tempted to fire off another shot. But that would ruin the game. That would ruin what this is about. I’ve waited years for God to send me to my death; I’ve waited for Him to send somebody to punish me for my sins, but He hasn’t answered my one prayer.  

Ophelia mockingly shakes her head. Her cruel smile only grows, knowin’ that I will have to live through another day of self-torment. If the gun goes off, my soul goes to hell. If I live, then I go on haunted by the demons inside. She wins this game either way, and I’m left to pick up the pieces.  

With the next strike of lightnin’, she disappears.  

About the Author

Ammar Habib is a bestselling and award-winning author who was born in Lake Jackson, Texas in 1993. Ammar enjoys crafting stories that are not only entertaining but will also stay with the reader for a long time. Ammar presently resides in his hometown with his family, all of whom are his biggest fans. He draws his inspiration from his family, imagination, and the world around him.


Tour Schedule

Tour Giveaway

One winner will receive a signed copy of Habib’s national award-winning novel, Memories of My Future (US only). Memories of My Future is an historical/inspirational novel that was published in 2016. It received several accolades after its release, including the Independent Press Award in May 2017.

Ends September 4, 2019

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