Spotlight: The Competition by Donna Russo Morin

Donna Russo Morin returns with a follow-up to Portrait of a Conspiracy, called “a page-turner unlike any historical novel, weaving passion, adventure, artistic rebirth, and consequences of ambition,” by C.W. Gortner.

In a studiolo behind a church, six women gather to perform an act that is, at once, restorative, powerful, and illegal. They paint. Under the tutelage of Leonardo da Vinci, these six show talent and drive equal to that of any man, but in Renaissance Florence they must hide their skills, or risk the scorn of the city.

A commission to paint a fresco in Santo Spirito is announced and Florence’s countless artists each seek the fame and glory this lucrative job will provide. Viviana, a noblewoman freed from a terrible marriage and now free to pursue her artistic passions in secret, sees a potential life-altering opportunity for herself and her fellow female artists. The women first speak to Lorenzo de’ Medici himself, and finally, they submit a bid for the right to paint it. And they win.

But the church will not stand for women painting, especially not in a house of worship. The city is not ready to consider women in positions of power, and in Florence, artists wield tremendous power. Even the women themselves are hesitant; the attention they will bring upon themselves will disrupt their families, and could put them in physical danger.

All the while, Viviana grows closer to Sansone, her soldier lover, who is bringing her joy that she never knew with her deceased husband. And fellow-artist Isabetta has her own romantic life to distract her, sparked by Lorenzo himself. Power and passion collide in this sumptuous historical novel of shattering limitations, one brushstroke at a time.

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About the Author

Donna earned two degrees from the University of Rhode Island. In addition to writing, teaching writing, and reviewing for literary journals, Donna works as a model and actor; highlights of her work include two seasons on Showtime’s Brotherhood and an appearance in Martin Scorsese’s The Departed. Donna is the proud mother of two sons, one a future opera singer, the other a future chef.

Donna’s titles include The Courtier’s Secret, The Secret of the Glass, To Serve a King, The King’s Agent, Portrait of a Conspiracy, and The Competition.

Donna enjoys meeting with book groups in person and via Skype chat. Visit her website at www.donnarussomorin.com. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

Read an excerpt from Starshine by Melody Winter

Film student Ella Summers can’t believe her luck when she is selected to work on the set of the most anticipated film release of the year—STARSHINE. For the next four weeks, she’ll be in the studio with heart-throb and leading man Alex Denton, and his co-star—and recent ex—the stunning Amy Strickland.

But her first day on set has her questioning the true character of the enigmatic and sexy Alex. The charming celebrity she’s adored on screen disappears before her very eyes—if indeed he ever really existed.

Off-camera arguments between Alex and Amy become difficult to ignore, and when Ella uncovers layers of deceit and closely guarded secrets between them, she becomes involved in a battle that has far-reaching implications.

With the paparazzi hounding her every move for the most sensational story they can get, Ella becomes deeply embroiled in Alex’s life. Can she break down his seemingly impenetrable walls, or will he remain the arrogant ass she first met?

STARSHINE is set in London, England. Beware though—Alex Denton has a crude mouth, and an equally wicked smile.

Excerpt

The silence was suddenly broken by the thud of distant music and the roar of a car engine. I glared at the car as it sped along the road toward the bus-stop, and inwardly cursed the idiot behind the wheel.

My glare turned into a worried frown when the silver car slowed down and stopped at the bus-stop. The dark tinted passenger window slowly hummed down, and the thud of music turned into a deafening roar.

The driver of the car was revealed—Alex Denton.

He raised his eyebrows, before lowering his gaze and taking in the sight of my dress clinging to my legs. I was glad I had a cardigan on, no matter that it looked like a wet sack now. At least he couldn’t see my bright pink bra, one that would be very visible underneath a practically transparent wet dress.

Alex licked his bottom lip as he stared at my legs, and I realised that the relief I had felt that he couldn’t see my bra due to my cardigan, had been misplaced. The modest woollen covering wasn’t long enough to cover my lower half. My matching pink pants would be very visible and I suspected that they were what Alex Denton was looking at.

“You’re wet!” he shouted above the relentless thudding of the music.

“You noticed!” I yelled back, wondering why he hadn’t turned the music down if he wanted to talk. I toyed with the idea of whether to accept a lift or not if he offered me one. The thought of being trapped with him in a car had always been a dream of mine, but after everything else that had happened today, I didn’t know whether I had the strength to spend even one more second in his scintillating company. But I was tired and I wanted to get home as quickly as possible. The thought of racing through London in his very expensive sports car, or trudging through traffic on a crammed public bus for a good thirty minutes made my mind up. I’d accept the lift if he offered. If he was sarcastic with me, I could just ignore him. Maybe he’d even mellow a little and I’d get to see what he was really like when he wasn’t in the same room as Amy.

He slowly lifted his hand, curling his finger to beckon me toward the car.

I took one step forward, stopping abruptly as he held his hand up in a halt position. Now what was he doing?

“You really are very wet!” he said before reaching forward and flicking a small silver switch on the central console. The music died, leaving the sound of the engine idling.

“No shit, Einstein. It has just poured down,” I said, my voice edged with sarcasm.

His jaw tightened at my response, and his eyes drifted down my body again.

“Hot pink?” he said, although it sounded more like a question.

I knew exactly what he was referring to. My cheeks heated as I pulled at the front of my cardigan, but it was no use. It wouldn’t stretch to cover my lower body. Knowing there was nothing I could do about my see-through dress, I gritted my teeth and offered Alex a stony stare. One that dared him to continue with his next response.

“I like it,” he said.  “Not as slutty at red.”

My body tensed. My nostrils flared as more heat flushed my face. Did he just refer to me as being slutty?

He smiled before pulling a sudden poker face. I was so wrapped up in thinking of a response to his somewhat undisguised insult that I didn’t see the bus approach.

“Shit,” I murmured, as it rumbled past Alex’s car. The next bus wasn’t due for another hour.

Alex watched the bus as it disappeared down the road and then turned to face me.

“See you tomorrow, Work Experience Girl.”

He grinned and winked at me as the car window hummed shut. The loud music started again and the engine revved several times before he sped off in the same direction as the bus.

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About the Author

Growing up, Melody Winter showed a natural ability in art, a head for maths, and a tendency to write far too long English essays. Difficult to place in the world when she graduated, she pursued a career in teaching, but eventually ended up working in finance. Melody is convinced that the methodical time she spends working with numbers fuels her desire to drift into dream worlds and write about the illusory characters in her head.

Melody lives in North Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two teenage sons. When not dealing with football, rugby, and a whole plethora of ‘boy’ activities, she will be found scribbling notes for her stories, or listening to 80’s music on her IPod.

Melody has a tendency to fall head-over-heels in love with her main characters, even when they frustrate her and refuse to act the way she wants them to. She is a romance writer at heart and loves reading and writing about anything mythological or magical, as well as exploring the gritty side of love affairs and the complexities of being in love.

SACHAEL DREAMS was her debut novel, (REUTS Publications, USA) and the first in the New Adult Romantic Fantasy series—the ‘Mine Series’. The second book in the series, SACHAEL DESIRES’, was released in November 2015, and the remaining books in the series, SACHAEL DELUSIONS, and, SACHAEL DESTINY, are due to be released in the near future.

Melody has also self-published two books, INIQUITY, the first book in a Dark New Adult Romantic Fantasy series— ‘The Ascent’ (The second book in the series, ADVERSITY, is due for release later this year.) and STARSHINE, Melody’s first contemporary romance,  released 29th May 2017.

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Spotlight: Boardwalk Summer by Kimberly Fisk

In the town of Tranquility Bay, summer is the season of second chances...

Single mother Hope Thompson has built a happy life for herself and her twins in beautiful Tranquility Bay, Washington. She doesn’t dwell on her painful past—especially not on the man who broke her heart all those years ago. But when Hope’s beloved son needs help, she takes a desperate chance and reaches out to her children’s father.

Nick Fortune lives life in the spotlight as a champion race car driver. He’s shocked to hear from Hope and even more surprised to learn that he’s a father. He immediately heads to the Pacific Northwest to confront the past—and the woman he once loved.

There, on the quiet lakeshore, Nick and Hope must work together to save their son—even if it means facing their complicated past—for a second chance as a family.

Excerpt

The phone felt heavy in Hope Thompson’s hand. She traced the buttons, unconsciously pausing at the numbers that would soon connect her to a voice she hadn’t heard in nearly sixteen years.

She thought about shutting herself away in a closet. Maybe then, if she was hidden with only darkness surrounding her, this call wouldn’t be so hard to make. But Hope knew darkness did not shut out memories—if anything, it enhanced them, becoming a large ebony canvas that allowed them to play over and over in her mind until sleep was impossible.

She reached for her cup of tea on the end table next to the sofa and took a sip. It was cold. She was halfway off the couch to reheat it before she stopped. Stalling. That was what she was doing. She sat back down, grabbed the phone, and dialed quickly before she lost her nerve.

“Hello?”

Hope’s grip tightened. Sixteen years. It had been sixteen years since she’d heard her mother’s voice, but it felt as if it were yesterday. “Hello, Mo—Claire.”

There was a long pause and then, “Charlotte, is that you?”

A pain settled in Hope’s chest. Why had she believed her mother would recognize her? “No. It’s me. Hope.”

A faint crinkling drifted across the phone line, and Hope knew it was her mother shifting positions on the sofa’s plastic protector. “Hope?”

“I know, Claire. It’s been a long time.”

After so many years, there should have been a thousand things they had to say to each other. A million tiny details that had filled their lives and the lives of the two grandchildren her mother had never wanted to meet. Instead, Hope didn’t know where to begin—what to say. Should she start with: Your grandchildren’s names are Joshua and Susan, and they are bright and beautiful and make me so proud every day. Or: They will be sixteen in a few months, and they can’t wait to get their drivers’ licenses. Joshua loves football, music, and cars. He has his first steady girlfriend, and I don’t know if that makes me happy or scared. And Susan. She’s everything I wish I could be. She’s confident and smart and funny. She was elected class president, and captain of her soccer team for the second year in a row.

But Hope knew what she should tell her mom was the complete truth: My whole life is about to fall apart for the second time and this time I need you. We need you. Please don’t send us away again.

She was thirty-two years old and still she hesitated, not wanting to face the rejection she knew she’d hear in her mother’s voice. So instead, she heard herself asking, “How have you been?”

“Been good. Been real good except for my garden. With this terrible heat spell we’ve been going through, I should have mulched, that’s what I should’ve done. Sue Ellen down at the Piggly Wiggly told me she was going to mulch but I thought for sure I wouldn’t need to. I got an air conditioner last week. You got one?”

An air conditioner. After all these years, her mother wanted to know if she owned an air conditioner. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, don’t suppose you’d have much use for one up there in the Pacific Northwest. Not with all that rain. Never could understand why anyone would choose to live in a place that rained nine months out of the year.”

“I didn’t choose.”

Claire ignored Hope’s comment, as she had with anything she found unpleasant. “Well now.”

Why had she even bothered to hope that her mother had changed? That small crack in her heart—the old hurt that would never completely heal—wedged open a fraction more. “Aren’t you going to ask about your grandchildren?”

There was a long pause. “My show just got over, Hope. I need to go. If I don’t leave right after the third hymn, I’ll be late to the committee meeting. I made my special pineapple rum cake, though I didn’t add the rum because Pastor Gilbert may stop by. I don’t believe he’d take kindly to us ladies consuming outside of the sacramental wine.”

“Their names are Joshua and Susan.”

“I have to go, Hope.”

“Wait.” Hope closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please, Mama, I need your help.”

A soft whoosh of air filled the earpiece. “My help?” Another pause. “Well, Hope Marie, you’re a big girl now. I don’t see how I can be of any help. I thought you were doing just fine up there in Washington.”

“We’re not fine.” Hope could feel her entire life crumbling away like a dry sand castle. “My son has leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant. The doctors told us our best hope for a match is with a family member.”

Silence filled the phone lines. “Leukemia? I always knew something like this would happen. Didn’t I tell you?”

You keep that baby, Hope Marie, and something bad will happen. You just wait and see. Should have named you Hopeless because that’s what you are—hopeless.

Hope wasn’t seventeen anymore; this time she wasn’t going to let her mother refuse to help.

“What about your other one?” her mother asked. “His sister? Being twins and all, wouldn’t she do?”

Hope swallowed, praying the bitter taste in the back of her throat would go away. “Susan and I aren’t a match.” Did her mother really think Hope wouldn’t have explored every other option before contacting her?

“Well, I just don’t see how I can be of any help. I’m not much for doctors. I couldn’t even go and see Pastor Gilbert’s wife before she passed away, God rest her soul. All those smells and sick people. Really, Hope, you know how they affect me. Besides, don’t they have radiation or something for this? When Hester Pritchett’s second cousin down in Alabama got the cancer, they did something that fixed her right up. I do believe Hester said she lost all her hair but really, Hope, she didn’t go asking her relatives for help. No, I don’t see how I can be of any help.”

Hope gripped the phone so tight she was surprised it didn’t shatter. She kept her voice deadly calm, knowing it was the only way to deal with Claire Montgomery. “Joshua has had chemotherapy, Mother. It didn’t work.”

“Maybe you aren’t taking that boy to the right doctors.”

“My son’s name is Joshua and I have taken him to the very best doctors.”

“There’s no need for that tone with me. All I was saying, maybe you should take him to one of those specialists.”

“We’ve seen the specialists. And they agree that what my son needs is a bone marrow transplant.”

Her mother could ignore Hope all she wanted. She could continue to pretend to her church friends that her only child hadn’t gotten pregnant at seventeen but instead had graduated early and received a full scholarship to some college far, far away. She could go on living that lie, but if she thought for one moment Hope would let her refuse to help her grandson, she was mistaken.

“I still don’t know why you’re calling me when you should be calling that man.”

“What man, Mom?”

An impatient grunt came across the line. “Their father, that’s who. Call him.”

Their father.

For just a moment Hope’s heart ached. “I need all of Joshua’s relatives to be tested. The initial test to see if you are a match is simple. All you have to do is go to your doctor and explain what you need done. I can call him, or I can have Joshua’s doctor call and explain if that would be easier.”

“This is not a problem that concerns Dr. Brown.”

Hope sighed tiredly. “I thought you might feel that way. Joshua’s doctor gave me the name and number of a colleague in St. Paul. Call him, please, and set up an appointment as soon as you can. I will arrange for a taxi to take you.” Hope gave her mother the doctor’s name and telephone number.

“How much will this cost?”

“Don’t worry about the money. If your insurance doesn’t cover it or even if you don’t want to submit the claim, I’ll pay for it. It won’t cost you a cent to see if you can save your grandson.”

Hope had no idea where she’d come up with the money, but she’d find it somehow.

“You know I live on a fixed income. My question isn’t a bit out of line.”

“I know, Mama. I know.”

A heartbeat of silence filled the air. And then another. Enough time to say I’ve missed you or I love you.

When it became apparent her mother wasn’t going to say anything else, Hope said, “Call the doctor—”

The other end of the phone disconnected before Hope could finish.

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About the Author

A past recipient of Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart Award, Kimberly Fisk is the bestselling author of Lake Magic. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three children, and too many four-legged critters to count.

Her latest book is the contemporary romance, Boardwalk Summer.
 

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Spotlight: Her Spy to Have by Paula Altenburg

Au pair and ex-pat Isabelle Beausejour has been living abroad for most of her twenty-four years, traveling the world with her irresponsible father. When Isabelle finds herself stranded in Bangkok, with no job, no money, and nowhere to turn, she soon becomes desperate. 

Intelligence officer Garrett Downing is on the hunt for military goods that have gone missing. Instead, he finds himself coming to the aid of a young woman with more resourcefulness than common sense.

Isabelle has no choice but to accept a stranger’s help in getting home. Once there, however, as enemies turn into lovers, it soon becomes a game of keeping secrets. Garrett is more than he seems. Isabelle knows more than she’s willing to admit. Will she choose loyalty to her father over the love of a man who tells lies for a living?

Excerpt

The rain continued to pour. The inside of the van became the entire world, and he filled every inch of it. She eased her fingers from beneath his touch.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

“And you’ve let me.”

“No,” he corrected her. “I’ve been giving you space. But something happened today. I’d like to know what it was.”

Isabelle’s mouth went dry, her heart hammering so loud she was certain he must hear it over the steady drumming of the rain. She’d made her decision. Now she had to live with it. She hadn’t told her father that she believed CSIS was searching for him. She wasn’t telling Garrett anything more than she already had, either. She didn’t want to choose sides between them.

She turned her face away and looked at the streaming driver’s side window so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes and read the disappointment in them. When she spoke, she was as honest with him as she could be. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He cupped her chin in firm fingers and forced her to look at him. His expression was grave, but he’d shut down his thoughts so she couldn’t read them. The creases around his mouth, so evident when he smiled, had smoothed. He dropped a light kiss on her lips.

“I guess this is it, then,” he said.

She swallowed hard against the painful lump in her throat. She’d known from the beginning there could never be anything of significance between them. She hadn’t expected to fall in love with him.

The rain slowed, then stopped altogether. The sun burst through a break in the clouds. Regret burned at the backs of her eyes. “I wish things could have been different.”

He let go of her and settled back in the passenger seat, six feet of rugged male indifference wrapped in a white Henley shirt and wheat-colored Dockers.

“Put your right foot on the brake, start the engine, and slide the gearshift into drive,” he said. “If you cut the wheels hard to the left, you should be able to pull back onto the road with no problem at all. Stay clear of the shoulder. It’ll be soft.”

Slowly, Isabelle maneuvered the van onto the dirt road. Muddy water from the puddles sprayed off the tires as she stepped on the accelerator. A minute later, they were on pavement again.

“For the record,” Garrett said, staring straight ahead, “I wish things could have been different, too.”

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About the Author

Multi-published author Paula Altenburg grew up in rural Nova Scotia knowing that at some point in her life she was likely to be a fiction writer. Swapping Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey books with her father guaranteed she wasn’t going to be the next Jane Austen, much to the dismay of her English teacher mother. A degree in Social Anthropology from the University of King’s College and Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia, confirmed that writing was the most logical career path for her. 

She’s worked in the Aerospace and Defense industry, which surprises everyone who knows her. She writes because she can’t keep a secret, and getting to pass everything off as fiction makes a good compromise. Happily married, with two terrific sons, she continues to live in rural Nova Scotia but makes a point of traveling as much as she can.

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Read an excerpt from Lucky Charmed by Sharla Lovelace

Carmen Frost hates honey. And bees. And in her hometown of Charmed, Texas, which practically invented the stuff, that’s a problem. The good news is that the summer Honey Festival is finally over. Even better, so is the annual Lucky Hart carnival, a road show that made off with her dreams years ago—including the boy she loved. Now she’s got a divorce behind her, and a successful law career in front of her, but in a tiny town, big memories die hard. Or they don’t die at all—as Carmen discovers when she runs into an all too familiar pair of eyes—older, wiser, and just as heart-melting as ever . . .

Sully Hart has had enough of the nomad lifestyle. Travelling with his father’s carnival gave him adventures, but it cost him much more. Now he’s home to stay, contracted to create an entertainment complex in Charmed. He wants roots, a house with a yard and all the mundane pleasures that go with it. But the girl he loved has become a woman who still wants freedom. Can she still want him? It seems he and Carmen are at each other’s throats one minute—and on each other’s lips the next. Someone’s gotta give . . .

Excerpt

Lanie and Nick were coming home from their honeymoon and I was thankful in about a billion ways. Namely, that a relatively sane person I trusted could look me in the eye and remind me with all the prior knowledge needed that I was a grown independent woman with no logical reason to need anything from Sully Hart. Answers, mouth-to-mouth, monkey sex in a cave…Answers.

None of it.

Not that any of those things were on my mind the last two days since crawling in the dirt (I hadn’t been back yet) and the day before that’s one-on-one outside City Hall. At all. Or that I’d been obsessing over every word, every look, every inch he’d closed between us, or the way his hand had automatically closed over mine one day and had to touch me the next. Or that I was thinking of him or Kia—or him and Kia—or any of it while I drove home from the last minute trip to the vet’s office for Ralph’s food (I promise, he didn’t starve), fully aware that Maple Street was just four measly little blocks off of Main.

Because I was an adult. A responsible, un-flaky adult. Turning her blinker on. Driving down 8th Avenue. To Maple.

I shook my head all the way down the road, unable to believe what I was doing. This was the kind of thing I fussed at clients for doing. Obsessing over their ex’es. I wasn’t obsessing. I was just curious. Curious over what could make someone so untethered and beautifully free want to fence themselves in. Yep, that was all.

I didn’t have long to find out. I turned left on Maple toward the five-hundred block and felt my palms start to sweat. My pulse start to race. And somehow I knew it was the one with the big black Chevy before I even saw the number. The Chevy I’d parked next to at City Hall the other day. Of course I had.

The house itself was ordinary. Brick and wood, one story, kind of non-descript with no real landscaping. Looked like some flower beds might be marked off for the future with stakes, but that was about it. I rolled past it slowly, my mouth going dry like a teenager on a stalking mission.

“This is crazy,” I muttered.

And then he walked around the side of his house and I hunched over and gunned it at the same time, parking around the corner but still in view.

“How pathetic am I?” I whispered.

My phone screamed through the speakers and I yelped and then clapped a hand over my mouth as I hit the button.

“Hello?” I whispered.

There he was. In a tight ratty tank top with holes and old jeans, a baseball cap turned backward on his head, the muscles in his arms rippling as he drove a shovel into the ground. Now that was how to sink a shovel. Sweet Jesus.

“Hey, we’re at the airport,” Lanie said. I could hear Nick muttering something in the background. “So we should be home in a couple of hours. Well, after they find our other suitcase, anyway.”

“Awesome,” I hissed, watching Sully turn over dirt, one shovelful after another. “Drive safe.”

“Awesome?” she said. “They lost our suitcase.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Hope they find it quickly.”

“Why are you whispering?” Lanie whispered.

And breathing fast. Whispering and breathing fast. Because I’m hiding around the corner from Sully Hart’s house, of all things, watching him play in the dirt and get sweaty.

Completely logical.

“Um, I’m in a building,” I said, just as a truck pulling a squeaky trailer drove around me.

“You sound like you’re outside.”

“Okay, we have things to talk about when you get home,” I said. “So plan on some ice cream on the couch girl time tonight after you get unpacked. Nick and Ralph can go bond somewhere.”

Lanie laughed. “I’ll let him know. See you soon. And Carmen?”

“Yeah?”

“No Sully.”

See? That’s what I needed. But in person, with a leash or a stun gun. Or a box of imported chocolate. I dropped the phone in my lap and watched as my tattoo—his tattoo—moved with him. He had more of them now, but the one on his left bicep that matched the tiny one inside my left breast tugged at me. An infinity sign.

I love you, Carmen. Forever.

It was supposed to signify that. Something we’d done together the day before he left me—forever. Well, I guess it was significant after all.

The old pain stabbed through me like it was coming straight from that fifteen-year-old ink, and I welcomed it. Yes, remember that.

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About the Author

Sharla Lovelace is the bestselling, award-winning author of sexy small-town love stories. Being a Texas girl through and through, she’s proud to say she lives in Southeast Texas with her retired husband, a tricked-out golf cart, and two crazy dogs. She is the author of five stand-alone novels including the bestselling Don’t Let Go, the exciting Heart Of The Storm series, and the fun and sexy new Charmed in Texas series. For more about Sharla's books, visit her website, and keep up with all her new book releases easily by subscribing to her newsletter. She loves keeping up with her readers, and you can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

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Audio Spotlight: Deceptive Cadence by Kathryn Guare

Meet Conor McBride. He's even more interesting than the trouble he gets into. A talented Irish musician reluctantly reinvents himself, disappearing into an undercover identity to search for the man who ruined his career: his own brother. On a journey from the west of Ireland to the tumultuous city of Mumbai, Conor McBride's only goal is to redeem the brother who betrayed him. But he's becoming a virtuoso of a different kind in a dangerous game where the rules keep changing--and where the allies he trusted to help him may be the people he should fear the most.

Excerpt

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About the Author and Narrator

About the Author: Kathryn Guare

Kathryn Guare lives in the Vermont town where she grew up, part of the third generation of her family to call the tiny capital city of Montpelier home. She spent ten years as an executive with a global health membership and advocacy organization, worked as a tour coordinator in a travel agency, and has traveled extensively in Europe and India. She has a passion for Classical music, all things Celtic, and loves exploring ethnic foods and diverse cultures. Her first novel, Deceptive Cadence was awarded the Audiobook Gold Medal in the Readers Favorite Awards.

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About the Narrator: Wayne Farrell

Internationally acclaimed voice actor Wayne Farrell began his professional career at The National Theatre of Ireland, where he met the legendary Irish seanachai Eamon Kelly and became fascinated with the art of storytelling. Using skills learned during this time, Farrell has worked extensively in both documentary and audiobook narration and is widely admired for the rich clarity and versatility of his voice. His credits include award-winning authors such as Donal Ryan, whose debut novel The Spinning Heart won The Guardian’s First Book Award as well as Irish Book of the Year; and New York Times and USA Today bestsellers such as Morgan Rice, author of the fantasy epic The Sorcerer’s Ring.

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