Spotlight: The Liz Taylor Ring by Brenda Janowitz

Three siblings. A priceless family ring. One legendary love story.

In 1978, Lizzie Morgan and Ritchie Schneider embark on a whirlwind romance on the bright beaches and glamorous yachts of Long Island. Over the years, their relationship has its share of ups and downs, including a nine-month hiatus that ends with a stunning eleven-carat ring—one that looks just like the diamond Richard Burton gifted Liz Taylor after their own separation. Like the famous couple, despite the drama that would unfold throughout the Schneiders’ marriage, the ring would be there as a symbol of their love…until it wasn't.

Decades later, when the lost ring unexpectedly resurfaces, the Schneiders’ three children gather under one roof for the first time in years, eager to get their hands on this beloved, expensive reminder of their departed parents. But determining the fate of the heirloom is no simple task, unearthing old wounds and heartaches the siblings can't ignore. And when the ring reveals a secret that challenges everything they thought they knew about their parents’ epic love story, they’ll have to decide whether to move forward as a family or let the ring break them once and for all.

Excerpt

Addy looked at herself in the mirror. Surely every woman looked like a wet dog after getting their hair washed at the hairdresser, didn’t they? 

She examined the lines of her face, the rings under her eyes. She looked tired. She looked old. She didn’t look like herself anymore. 

“Just to lighten you up a bit,” Roberto said, running his hands through her hair. He’d been styling her hair since she was nineteen—just over twenty years—and his pleas to color it had gotten more insistent as of late. 

But she would not be one of those women who colored her hair. She simply would not. After all, she had daughters to raise, twin girls who were sixteen years old. She had to set a good example. 

“You know how I feel about coloring my hair.” 

“Remind me again.” 

“It’s antifeminist.” 

“Coloring your hair does not have to be a political statement,” he said, self-consciously examining his own hairline, receding ever so slightly, in the mirror. “Forty is the new thirty, you know.”

“I’m forty-one.” Addy pressed her fingers to the lines that led from the edge of her lip, up to the side of her nose. Marionette lines, they called them. As if women were just wooden dolls, controlled by a master. Most women her age had already started Botox and fillers. They threw Botox parties at each other’s houses, getting shot up by people who weren’t even doctors. Still, they looked good. Better than she did.

“Oh, well, forty-one’s the new sixty.” They both laughed.

“Just a trim.”

“I could easily make you look the way you looked when we first met. It would only take an hour.”

When Roberto referenced when we first met, he meant the summer she turned nineteen. When she let her blond hair lighten in the sun, when it flowed in wavy bursts down her back. She could let her hair dry naturally and it would still look like it had been professionally done. She walked into the salon carefree, unencumbered by kids’ schedules, what to make for dinner that night, and college funds. She walked into the salon with a smile on her face, open to the possibilities of life in a way she could no longer fathom now. That’s how he saw her. That’s how he remembered that summer.

That’s not what Addy remembered. It was the summer after freshman year of college, and she’d come home to work with her dad, to learn how to run a retail store. Her father was still learning the retail game himself. Recently sworn off gambling and desperate for a job (a real job, not one of those get-rich-quick schemes he’d been chasing since the day he met her mother), he’d gotten the place for a steal from a friend of the family. It was a small store in the center of their Long Island town, filled with fast fashion. The sort of clothes that were ridiculously trendy and would go out of style in a season. (Which was good, because the quality only lasted a season, too.) 

He called the store “Lizzie and Ritchie’s” in a romantic gesture, and new to the retail game, he did all the books by hand. Addy was dying to put her digital marketing class to use, and when she told her father that one of her classmates had started a website and then quit school because the company took off, he wanted in. She got him onto QuickBooks, created a website, modeled all the clothing herself, and turned Lizzie and Ritchie’s into a dot-com. Ritchie barely understood what his daughter was doing, but he humored her because he loved her so much. He humored her because he was a doting father who hated to say no to his daughter. (Also, she was the smart one.)

Within a month, he understood. They could barely keep up with the online demand, and Addy brokered a deal with a classmate from Texas, whose family owned a manufacturing plant, to start making the clothing themselves. Within six months, Addy was back at school, and Ritchie had expanded his operation to a team of four. Within a year, the store was a half a million dollar a year business. Within three years, he expanded his team to ten. Within five years, his company—one brick-and-mortar shop and an online store—was a multimillion dollar enterprise.

And it was all because of Addy.

“We don’t even have to go to your old color,” Roberto said, pulling up a picture of a model on his phone. “We could make you a buttery dirty blond.”

“Showing my girls that I’m ashamed to get older is not the example I want to set,” Addy said, even though the sound of butter and dirt was intriguing.

“Your girls are all over Instagram giving Gigi and Bella a run for their money.”

“The modeling thing is just for fun,” Addy explained, as she’d explained to countless other people countless other times. “Gary really started having them do it to build their confidence.” (And 

because Addy was now too old to model the clothes herself, but better to leave that part unsaid.)

“I’d say they’re confident enough. Have you seen this?” He turned his phone toward Addy, and she immediately recognized it as the Lizzie and Ritchie’s Instagram page. A picture of her girls filled the screen: the clothes were beside the point (but they were wearing clothes, weren’t they?) as they stood, legs wide apart, mouths open, thumbs tugging on their bottom lips. The image was bold. It was strong. It was undeniably sexual. Addy was horrified.

“Of course I’ve seen that.” She had not. “At least they’re not coloring their hair.”

“Are they eating?” Roberto closed the photo and began scrolling through their individual feeds.

“Of course they eat.” When she was sixteen, Addy still had baby fat. Her girls had cheekbones like razor blades, bellies flat and taut. When she’d ask, Emma would laugh and explain how easy it was to manipulate the way you looked with makeup, camera angles, and filters. But Addy wasn’t so sure. “Lemme see that.”

As Roberto handed over his phone, Addy’s own phone rang out, the sound of an old-fashioned telephone filling the air.

“Do you need to get that?” he asked, holding up her purse with the ringing phone inside.

“No,” she said, transfixed by the store’s Instagram account. And then, instantly remembering herself: “I mean yes.” Addy swapped phones with Roberto. “It could be the girls or their school.” Addy looked at the screen. It was a number she didn’t recognize. The exchange looked international, a jumble of extra numbers. “I can let this go to voice mail.”

It would be hours before she remembered to check her messages. Long after her girls came home from school. After her husband came home from work. After she cooked dinner and

served it. After she fell into bed at ten, too tired to stay up to watch TV with Gary. It wasn’t until the next morning, after breakfast, that she remembered to check her voice mail.

And after that, nothing would be the same. 

Excerpted from The Liz Taylor Ring by Brenda Janowitz, Copyright © 2021 by Brenda Janowitz. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Hardcover | Paperback | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Brenda is the author of seven novels, including THE GRACE KELLY DRESS and the upcoming THE LIZ TAYLOR RING, which will be published by Harper Collins/ Graydon House on February 1, 2022. She is the former Books Correspondent for PopSugar. Her work has also appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, Real Simple, The Sunday Times (UK), Salon, Redbook, USA Today, Bustle, The Forward, the New York Post, Publisher’s Weekly, Hello Giggles, Writer’s Digest Magazine, WritersDigest.com, and xojane. 

Brenda attended Cornell University and Hofstra Law School, where she was a member of the Law Review. Upon graduation from Hofstra, worked for the law firm Kaye Scholer, LLP, and did a federal clerkship with the Honorable Marilyn Dolan Go, United States Magistrate Judge for the Eastern District of New York.

Connect:

Author Website

Twitter: @BrendaJanowitzr

Facebook: @BrendaJanowitz

Instagram: @brendajanowitzwriter

Goodreads

Spotlight: Stranded With Her Greek Billionaire by Michelle Smart

Michelle Smart unravels the mysteries of a Greek marriage in this emotional reunion romance. Keren fled the island of Agon heartbroken, convinced her marriage was over. Now she must return to face her gloriously handsome estranged husband, Yannis, and end things for good. Instead, she finds herself marooned on Agon, and Yannis insists she spends three final days with him first! With nowhere to run from the fierce longing he reawakens, Keren must open her eyes to the whole truth. Not just the tragedy that broke them, but the joy and passion she’s tried—and failed—to forget…

Excerpt

Would it help if I apologized?’

She couldn’t stop her stare darting to him. ‘I’m staying for three days not three weeks, Yannis.’

To her surprise, a grin spread over his face. It was a heartbreaker of a smile, all lopsided and…sexy.

She quickly looked away.

Keren didn’t want to see his smile and remember how it had once been part of the Yannis Filipidis package that had seduced and charmed her from the moment she set eyes on him.

Their first meeting had been at the opening of a new contemporary art gallery at Agon’s palace that Yannis and his brother had helped curate as a favour to the King. The palace had artwork and antiquities dating back millennia, but the modern King wanted to bring it more fully into the twenty-first century. Knowing their King wanted to attract a younger, hipper clientele, the PR people behind the launch reached out to Keren and invited her to attend and review. That she was no art critic and had only visited and reviewed two art galleries in all her travels—reviewing offbeat bars and restaurants and activities like elephant trekking were more her thing—didn’t matter to them. It was her audience they wanted to connect with. They’d offered to pay for her flights and accommodation and promised no interference with what she published on her blog. As Agon had been on her wish list of countries to visit, she’d been thrilled to accept.

She remembered the funky feel of the gallery. The creative and delicious cocktails and canapés she’d been plied with by the eager PR team. The buzz that had permeated the air.

But mostly she remembered the incredibly tall, incredibly gorgeous man dressed in a dapper pinstriped suit propped against the wall with a bottle of lager in his hand, oblivious to the lusty stares being thrown his way because his entire focus had been on her.Keren had come to Agon intending to stay for a long weekend. It had ended up being her home for two years.

The man whose attention she’d caught that night and married six months later was still grinning. ‘But you are staying,’ he pointed out smugly.

‘Under duress. And only for three days.’

‘Three days is long enough to convince you to stay.’ Then the smile fell. He tilted his head. ‘Would you believe any apology?’

‘No.’

‘Then I shall save my breath for when you do believe it.’

‘Save it but don’t hold it,’ she advised.

The smile returned. ‘You would give me the kiss of life, surely?’

Before she could respond, he swept past her, his arm brushing hers, and engulfed her in a cloud of the cologne she hadn’t even realised she’d been avoiding inhaling until it was too late.

Grinding her toes into her sandals, Keren closed her eyes and tried her hardest to ride out the wave of longing ripping through her.

They were just echoes of the past. Memories.

Memories she’d locked away on her flight out of Agon.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Mass Market Paperback

About the Author

About Michelle Smart: Michelle Smart is a Publishers Weekly bestselling author with a slight-to-severe coffee addiction. A book worm since birth, Michelle can usually be found hiding behind a paperback, or if it’s an author she really loves, a hardback. Michelle lives in rural Northamptonshire in England with her husband and two young Smarties. When not reading or pretending to do the housework she loves nothing more than creating worlds of her own. Preferably with lots of coffee on tap. www.michelle-smart.com.

Spotlight: The Overnight Guest by Heather Gudenkauf

Publication Date: January 25, 2022

Publisher: Park Row Books

In a snowstorm, the safest place is home. Or is it?

True crime writer Wylie Lark doesn’t mind being snowed in at the isolated farmhouse where she’s retreated to write her new book. A cozy fire, complete silence. It would be perfect, if not for the fact that decades earlier, at this very house, two people were murdered in cold blood and a girl disappeared without a trace.

As the storm worsens, Wylie finds herself trapped inside the house, haunted by the secrets contained within its walls—haunted by secrets of her own. Then she discovers a small child in the snow just outside. How long had the child been there? Where did he come from? Bringing the child inside for warmth and safety, she begins to search for answers. But soon it becomes clear that the farmhouse isn’t as isolated as she thought, and someone is willing to do anything to find them.

Excerpt

Three

“Maybe we can go outside and play?” the girl said as she peeked around the edge of the heavy curtain that covered the window. The sky was gray and soft drops of rain tapped at the glass.

“Not today,” her mother said. “It’s raining and we’d melt.”

The girl gave a little laugh and then hopped off the chair she had dragged beneath the window. She knew her mother was teasing. They wouldn’t actually melt if they went out in the rain, but still, it made her shiver thinking about it—stepping outside and feeling the plop of water on your skin and watching it melt away like an ice cube.

Instead, the girl and her mother spent the morning at the card table cutting pink, purple, and green egg shapes from construction paper and embellishing them with polka dots and stripes.

On one oval, her mother drew eyes and a pointy little orange beak. Her mother laid the girl’s hands on a piece of yellow paper and traced around them using a pencil. “Watch,” she said as she cut out the handprints and then glued them to the back of one of the ovals.

“It’s a bird,” the girl said with delight.

“An Easter chick,” her mother said. “I made these when I was your age.”

Together, they carefully taped the eggs and chicks and bunny rab-bits they created to the cement walls, giving the dim room a festive, springy look. “There, now we’re ready for the Easter Bunny,” her mother said with triumph.

That night, when the girl climbed into bed, the butterflies in her stomach kept chasing sleep away. “Stay still,” her mother kept re-minding her. “You’ll fall asleep faster.”

The girl didn’t think that was true, but then she opened her eyes, a sliver of bright sunshine was peeking around the shade, and the girl knew that morning had finally arrived.

She leaped from bed to find her mother already at the tiny round table where they ate their meals. “Did he come?” the girl asked, tucking her long brown hair behind her ears.

“Of course he did,” her mother said, holding out a basket woven together from strips of colored paper. It was small, fitting into the palm of the girl’s hand, but sweet. Inside were little bits of green paper that were cut to look like grass. On top of this was a pack of cinnamon gum and two watermelon Jolly Ranchers.

The girl smiled though disappointment surged through her. She’d been hoping for a chocolate bunny or one of those candy eggs that oozed yellow when you broke it open.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank the Easter Bunny,” her mother said.

“Thank you, Easter Bunny,” the girl crowed like the child on the candy commercials that she’d seen on television. They both laughed.

They each unwrapped a piece of gum and spent the morning making up stories about the paper chicks and bunnies they made.

When the girl’s gum lost its flavor, and she had slowly licked one of the Jolly Ranchers into a sharp flat disc, the door at the top of the steps opened, and her father came down the stairs toward them. He was carrying a plastic bag and a six-pack of beer. Her mother gave the girl a look. The one that said, go on now, mom and dad need some alone time. Obediently, the girl, taking her Easter basket, went to her spot beneath the window and sat in the narrow beam of warm light that fell across the floor. Facing the wall, she unwrapped another piece of gum and poked it into her mouth and tried to ignore the squeak of the bed and her father’s sighs and grunts.

“You can turn around now,” her mother finally said. The girl sprang up from her spot on the floor.

The girl heard the water running in the bathroom, and her father poked his head out of the door. “Happy Easter,” he said with a grin. “The Easter Bunny wanted me to give you a little something.”

The girl looked at the kitchen table where the plastic bag sat. Then she slid her eyes to her mother, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her wrist, eyes red and wet. Her mother nodded.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Later, after her father climbed the steps and locked the door behind him, the girl went to the table and looked inside the plastic bag. In-side was a chocolate bunny with staring blue eyes. He was holding a carrot and wore a yellow bowtie.

“Go ahead,” her mother told the girl as she held an ice pack to her wrist. “When I was little, I always started with the ears.”

“I don’t think I’m very hungry,” the girl said, returning the box to the table.

“It’s okay,” her mother said gently. “You can eat it. It’s from the Easter Bunny, not your dad.”

The girl considered this. She took a little nibble from the bunny’s ear and sweet chocolate flooded her mouth. She took another bite and then another. She held out the rabbit to her mother and she bit off the remaining ear in one big bite. They laughed and took turns eating until all that was left was the bunny’s chocolate tail.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” her mother said. The girl complied and felt her mother place the remaining bit on her tongue and then kiss her on the nose. “Happy Easter,” her mother whispered.

Excerpted from The Overnight Guest by Heather Gudenkauf, Copyright © 2022 by Heather Gudenkauf. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Hardcover | Paperback | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Heather Gudenkauf is the critically acclaimed author of several novels, including the New York Times bestseller The Weight of Silence. She lives in Iowa with her husband and children.

Connect:

Author Website

Instagram: @heathergudenkauf

Twitter: @hgudenkauf

Facebook: @HeatherGudenkaufAuthor

Goodreads

Spotlight: The Iron Sword Julie Kagawa

Inkyard Press

Teen & Young Adult; Epic Fantasy

304 Pages

As Evenfall nears, the stakes grow ever higher for those in Faery…

Banished from the Winter Court for daring to fall in love, Prince Ash achieved the impossible and journeyed to the End of the World to earn a soul and keep his vow to always stand beside Queen Meghan of the Iron Fey.

Now he faces even more incomprehensible odds. Their son, King Keirran of the Forgotten, is missing. Something more ancient than the courts of Faery and more evil than anything Ash has faced in a millennium is rising as Evenfall approaches. And if Ash and his allies cannot stop it, the chaos that has begun to divide the world will shatter it for eternity.

Excerpt

Excerpted from THE IRON SWORD by Julie Kagawa © 2022 by Julie Kagawa. Used with permission by HarperCollins/Inkyard Press.

1.

The Missing King

I’ve lived a long life.

Not as long as some in Faery. Robin Goodfellow, for example, is older than me by several hundred years (though you wouldn’t know it by the way he acts). King Oberon, Queen Titania, and Queen Mab are older still, ancient beings with the power to rival anything in the Nevernever. I’m not as old or as powerful as the kings and queens of Faery, but even by fey standards, I’ve lived a goodly while. I’m known in the Nevernever; my name is recognized and even feared, by some. I’ve been to the farthest reaches of Faery. I have seen things no one else has. Nightmares, dragons, the End of the World. I’ve passed impossible tests, triumphed in unwinnable challenges, and killed unbeatable monsters.

None of it prepared me for being a father.

Meghan stared at Glitch, her face pale in the sickly light of the wyldwood. At the Iron faery who had just turned both our worlds upside down with his announcement.

Touchstone is no more. Prince Keirran, King of the Forgotten, has vanished.

“Explain, Glitch,” Meghan demanded. Her voice was calm, steely, though I caught the tremor beneath. “What do you mean, Keirran has vanished? What has happened to Touchstone?”

“Your Majesty.” Glitch bowed his head, the lightning in his hair flickering a subdued purple. “Forgive me, I only know what the messenger told us. That Touchstone has disappeared, and Prince Keirran is gone. I wish I could tell you more.”

Keirran. Fear twisted my insides. Not for me, but for the son who, despite all his assurances, couldn’t seem to keep himself out of trouble. Even before he was born, he had a prophecy hanging over his head that proclaimed him either a savior or a destroyer, and the entire Nevernever watched to see which he would become. For years, Meghan and I raised him with that knowledge, trying not to let it influence us, but knowing that one day, we would have to face the consequences of Keirran’s decision.

The prophecy finally came to a head when a powerful new foe rose up to threaten all of Faery. The Lady, the first queen of the Nevernever, furious that Faery had moved on without her, gathered the Forgotten to her side and waged war on all the courts. She promised them a new world, a world where humans would fear and worship the fey again, and where no faery would Fade away from being forgotten. She demanded the courts be dissolved, and that the rulers of Faery step down and acknowledge her as the true and only queen of the Nevernever. Naturally, the other rulers refused, and the war with the Forgotten began.

At that moment, Keirran made his choice, and it was Destroyer. He betrayed his court, turned his back on his family, and joined the Lady in her quest to conquer the Nevernever. And even though I had known it could happen, even though the prophecy had foretold it, it was still a devastating blow for both Meghan and myself. Keirran was stubborn, idealistic, and once he set his mind to something there was no changing it, but I hadn’t thought him capable of betraying his entire court.

Meghan took a quiet breath. I could sense the struggle within; the desire to know what had happened to our son, balanced against the duties and obligations of the Iron Queen. Faery wasn’t safe. We had just returned from the wyldwood, after battling a vicious new monster that nearly killed us all. I still ached, muscles battered and bruised, from the power of the creature’s attacks. There had been five of us: myself, the Iron Queen, Robin Goodfellow, an Iron faery named Coaleater and a Forgotten called Nyx, and even then we barely managed to bring down the creature. Only to discover the threat to the Nevernever was far from over. In fact, it was only beginning.

Meghan knew this. A shadow had fallen over Faery, the echo of a new prophecy hovering over it like a storm. The end has begun. Evenfall is coming. Faery and every living creature that exists under the sun are doomed.

I stepped close to Meghan and put my hands on her shoulders, feeling them tremble beneath my palms. Leaning in, I murmured, “I can find him, Meghan. If you need to return to Mag Tuiredh, I’ll take Puck and Grim, and we’ll go look for Keirran. Grim can lead us to Touchstone, and from there we’ll see what happened to the capital and where Keirran could have gone. You don’t have to come with us this time.”

“No.” She reached up and squeezed one of my hands. “I need to know what happened to Touchstone, why it suddenly vanished. If another one of those monsters is responsible for its destruction, you’ll need my help to take it down. Besides…” She paused, a shadow of pain crossing her face. “If something happened to Keirran, if one of those creatures got to him like they got to Puck, I want to know. I want to see it for myself. If both of us are there this time, maybe that will be enough to bring him back.”

My insides felt cold. The Monster we had fought and killed was unlike anything I had ever seen before: a physical manifestation of hate, rage, fear, and despair. It poisoned the land around it, tainting everything with dark glamour and negative emotions, and worst of all, it was able to bring out the shadow side of any living creature it touched. I had seen this firsthand with Puck, where he had been transformed into a faery consumed by jealous anger and vicious spite. The Robin Goodfellow of old. The Robin Goodfellow who was still furious with me for stealing away Meghan, who held a grudge for all the times I tried to kill him.

Not that I blamed him.

Fortunately, Puck had been able to fight through that darkness and return to his normal, carefree, irreverent self. But I knew what Meghan was thinking, and I shared her fear. Keirran had already shown himself capable of turning on and betraying everything he loved. Would we venture into the Between to find our son had turned into a soulless enemy once more?

I leaned close to Meghan, feeling her grip on my hand tighten. “We’ll find him,” I said quietly. “We’ll find him and whatever it takes, we’ll bring him home.”

She nodded once, then stepped away to gaze down at the still-kneeling Glitch. “You’ve done well,” she told the Iron lieutenant. “Return to Mag Tuiredh. Keep our people safe. I am going to search for Prince Keirran. I will return as soon as I am able.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Glitch said, though I knew he wanted to protest. The First Lieutenant never liked it when both rulers of Mag Tuiredh left the Iron Kingdom for unknown amounts of time. But he had been with Meghan long enough that he simply bowed his head and replied, “Good luck and safe travels to you both. I will keep the city safe until you return.”

Meghan turned, her gaze seeking the rest of the party behind us. Puck stood under a tree with his arms crossed, bright red hair making him stand out in the gloom. Beside him, a cloaked, hooded figure watched the proceedings silently, seeming to blend into the shadows. It took Meghan a moment to

locate her. “Nyx,” she said, “you are a Forgotten, and a member of Keirran’s court. Right now, it appears Touchstone has disappeared, and the Forgotten King has vanished. Can you part the Veil and take us into the Between?”

The silver-haired fey with the twilight skin and golden eyes raised her head, a steely expression on her face. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she answered. “If Keirran is in danger, I must find him right away. When do you wish to go?”

“Right now.” Meghan turned her gaze to the others, to Puck and Coaleater, watching intently. “This is an uncertain time for all of us,” she said. “Faery is under threat. Something is coming, and none of us know what it is or when it could arrive—only that it is close. The rulers and leaders of Faery must be made aware of this threat. Coaleater…” She glanced at the large Iron faery, who straightened as her gaze fell on him. “I know you want to help us find Keirran, but I need you to return to the Obsidian plains and warn Spikerail of what happened. He needs to be aware, and should the time come when we must call on the Iron herd, I want him to be prepared.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The big man bowed his head, and I saw the shadow of his real self behind him: a huge warhorse made of black iron and flickering flame. “The Iron herd will stand ready to aid you against all threats. You will have our support for as long as you need it.”

Meghan nodded gratefully, then turned to the red-haired fey beside him. “Puck?”

“Come on, princess.” Robin Goodfellow flashed his toothy smile. “You know where I stand. You don’t even have to ask.”

“I believe I will come as well.”

A fluffy gray cat sauntered into view, waving an exceptionally bushy tail. His golden eyes regarded us all with bored appraisal. “If Touchstone has disappeared, I would like to see it for myself,” Grimalkin said. “Someone with an ounce of intelligence should be there to make sense of things and point out the obvious. And to point you in the right direction should you become lost. Not that I doubt the Forgotten’s abilities, but you will need a guide should you happen to lose your way.”

The Iron Queen gave a decisive nod. “Then let us go,” she said. “I fear time is slipping away, and the longer we wait, the more difficult it will become to find Keirran. Nyx…” She gestured toward the Forgotten. “Whenever you are ready, take us into the Between.”

Nyx immediately stepped forward. Closing her eyes, she put out a hand, fingers spread wide, as if searching for something that could only be felt. “Keirran showed me how to enter the Between,” she murmured, taking a few steps forward. “He said that only the Forgotten remember how to do it, and that the Lady gave him the gift when she was alive. You have to find a spot where the Veil is thin.”

“Like a trod?” Puck asked, referring to the magical paths that led into the Nevernever from the mortal realm.

“Similar,” Nyx murmured, still walking steadily forward with her hand up. We trailed the Forgotten as she continued to search. “The Veil is like a mist,” she went on, “constantly moving and changing. Those weak spots you find might not be there when you return to them. But, if you search long enough, you should be able to find… There.”

She stopped. Paused a moment. And then, as I had seen

Keirran do only once or twice before, pushed her fingers into the fabric of reality and drew it back like a curtain. A narrow gash appeared where she parted the Veil, and beyond that tear was darkness. A few tendrils of mist curled out of the hole and writhed away into nothing.

Standing at the mouth of the gash into the void, Nyx shook her head. “The Between,” she murmured. “It feels…different. Angrier than it was before. That’s not good.” She opened her eyes and looked back at us. I saw concern on her face, but it was overshadowed by a somber resolution. “Guard your emotions,” she warned. “Calm your mind, and your feelings. The Between can manifest physical representations of strong emotions. So, if you are not careful, we might be facing your worst fears, or the darkest parts of your anger.”

I took a furtive breath to quiet the tangle of emotions, searching for the cold, empty calm of the Winter prince. It didn’t come as easily as it did in the past. Before Meghan and Keirran, when I only had myself to worry about, I feared very little. I wasn’t afraid of venturing into the unknown. Whatever came at me, whatever monster, nightmare or horrific abomination I would face, the worst that could happen was that they would kill me. And I was exceedingly hard to kill. Fear for my own life had rarely been a concern.

Things were different now. I had a family. I had a wife, and a son; two people that meant more to me than anything, in any world. If they were in danger, my entire being was consumed with wanting to protect them, to utterly destroy whatever evil they faced so it could never threaten them again. I could feel that anger in me now, rising up to dominate my thoughts, and breathed deep to find my center. If Keirran was out there, we would find him, and I would cut down anything that stood in our way. Simple as that.

Puck gave a loud, noisy sigh and glanced at me. “Well, ice-boy,” he said, “here we go again. Another adventure through the worst Faery has to offer. Oh, wait, you’ve never been through the actual Between before, have you?” He grinned, green eyes shining with mischief as he stepped toward the gateway. “You’re in for all sorts of fun surprises.”

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About the Author

Born in Sacramento, CA, Julie Kagawa moved to Hawaii at the age of nine. There she learned many things; how to bodyboard, that teachers scream when you put centipedes in their desks, and that writing stories in math class is a great way to kill time. Her teachers were glad to see her graduate.

Julie now lives is Louisville, KY with her husband and furkids. She is the international and NYT bestselling author of The Iron Fey series. Visit her at juliekagawa.com.

Connect:

Author website: http://juliekagawa.com/ 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jkagawa 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/juliekagawaauthor/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100045094913658 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/52735443-the-iron-raven 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2995873.Julie_Kagawa 

Spotlight: The Liars Beneath by Heather Van Fleet

Publication date: January 27th 2022
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

Synopsis:

A romantically dark YA thriller set in the backdrop of Iowa’s suspenseful farmlands.

After a tragic accident ends her best friend’s life, 17-year-old Becca Thompson succumbs to grief the only way she knows how: by wallowing in it. She’s a fragment of the person she once was—far too broken to enjoy the summer before her senior year. But when Ben McCain, her best friend’s older brother, returns home, Becca must face her new reality head on.

She isn’t interested in Ben’s games, especially since he abandoned his sister during the months leading up to her death. But when he begs for her help in uncovering the truth about what really happened the night of his sister’s death, Becca finds herself agreeing, hoping to clear up rumors swirling in the wake of her best friend’s accident.

An unhinged ex-boyfriend, secret bucket lists, and garage parties in the place Becca calls home soon lead her to the answers she’s so desperate to unveil. But nobody is being honest, not even Ben. And the closer Becca gets to the truth—and to Ben—the more danger seems to surround her.

Clearing her best friend’s name was all she wanted to do, but Becca is quickly realizing that the truth she craves might be uglier than the lies her best friend kept.

Excerpt

It was almost midnight when I heard the knock against my window. Three soft and consecutive thuds, all of which match the beat of my heart. Why he chose that way to get my attention instead of texting, is a mystery. The kind of mystery I was way too amped up to question. 

I wasn’t excited in the sense that I like him and want to spend time with him or anything. At least that’s what I told my racing heart when I first saw his smile from the other side of the glass. He’d been crouched on his belly on the roof of our porch like a stealthy spy, and the sight was something I’d never forget.

I’d thrown a hoodie on over the Tee I’m dressed in, pairing it with some denim cutoffs. Then I tossed my hair up into a messy bun and slid on some cherry Chapstick—but only because my lips were chapped. That’s it. No other reason whatsoever.

Once my Docs were on, I slid out my window and met him head on, the two of us jumping the five feet off the low hanging roof. I’d giggled uncontrollably when he landed on his butt instead of his feet, and he’d nearly pulled me down with him when he tried grabbing my laces. That would be the last time I’d ever not tie my boots.

“Guess what?”

he whispered when we started to walk away from the house. “I researched your family tree today and found out that you, Becca, are the biggest sap.”

He ended that statement with a tap to my nose. My freaking nose, for God’s sake. 

He’d 

 me.

My response—one which had been paired with a hard thump to his equally as hard abdomen: “You’re so dumb, you planted a dogwood tree and expected a litter of puppies.”

We both laughed at how stupid we sounded, yet at the same time it felt good to just be goofy. Or dare I say, normal. Though that word—

—was a bit of a stretch when it came to the two of us anymore.

After that, Ben took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and proceeded to lead me to where we are now: the middle of the cornfield. 

I trail my fingers over the silky corn stalks, marveling at their height and the way the midnight moon reflects off the green color. Nothing about this spot eases my frazzled nerves, of course. It doesn’t give me peace of mind like it once had when I’d come out here with Rose either. It’s kind of like the alcove in that sense—a spot tainted by a bad memory, despite the many good memories trying to override it. 

Ben moves closer, our shoulders brushing.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“Stuff.” That no longer matters. A time and a place and a memory that’s long past. 

“Rose said you guys used to hang out here a lot.”

I shrugged one shoulder, unwilling to indulge in what happened the last time she and I had been out here. It’s not a huge thing, smoking weed and all, but for some reason, I don’t want Ben to know that it’d been my bucket list item, not Rose’s. It shows my age—how I’d been so young and inexperienced. 

Not that I care what he thinks. 

“It’s nice,” he continues. “Quiet too. I can see why you liked it.”

“We did some of our best thinking out here.” 

 that was more along the lines of Rose smoking joints, while I stood by to keep watch. 

“Hmm.” He nods, kicks the toe of his foot into the dirt. “I’m gonna go to that party on Saturday,” he tells me out of the blue. 

I frown. “You think that’s smart after beating up Adam like you did?”  

“Yup.” 

“Why?” 

“Because Adam’s gonna be there.” He looks away, but I don’t miss the flex of his jaw—not even in the dark. “I don’t trust the guy.”

I turn him around by the shoulders, forcing him to stand in front of me. “What’s there not to trust, exactly?”  

“Lots of things.”

“Like what?” 

“I’ve got facts that need exploring.” His lips purse. 

“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Because you’re suddenly a detective now. I forgot.” 

Adam wouldn’t hurt a puppy, let alone be behind Rose’s death. He used to talk big, but his love for my best friend was endless. Without a doubt, I know that’s who her secret boyfriend was. I just don’t get why they never went public. 

“I’m more of a private eye, actually.” He covers one eye and curls the corner of his upper lip, making an 

 noise.

“That’s a pirate, not a private eye, dork.”  

“Either way, they’re both sneaky, right?”

I sigh, wondering if he’s always been this weird. Cocky, a smartass, and a huge instigator—that’s Ben. Not 

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About the Author

Heather Van Fleet is a stay-at-home-mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, a mom to three girls, and in her spare time you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, guzzling down copious amounts of coffee.

Heather graduated from Black Hawk College in 2003 and currently writes Adult contemporary romance. She is published through Sourcebooks Casablanca with her Reckless Hearts series and Bookouture with her Red Dragon series.

Connect:

http://www.heathervanfleet.com/

https://www.facebook.com/authorheathervanfleet

https://www.pinterest.ca/heathervanfleet/_saved/

https://twitter.com/HLVanFleet

https://www.instagram.com/hvfwrites/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6870087.Heather_Van_Fleet

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Spotlight: Killer Runway by Daria White

(Bianca Wallace Mysteries, #2)

Publication date: January 25th 2022

Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery

Synopsis:

Bianca’s determined to live a normal life in Edenville with her family, and she has no intention of getting involved in another case. While attending a fashion show, a model, also a childhood friend of her sister, collapses off the runway. Dead. Not the show Bianca planned on attending.

Detective Sims shows up to solve the case, but Bianca can’t keep silent. Too many clues are surfacing, and with a month-long fashion event in town, the suspects remain in Edenville. There’s no harm in Bianca investigating one more time, though Detective Sims wants her to stay away.

Can she discover the motive behind this unexpected death? Bianca’s life at risk with another killer isn’t wise. Not to mention the lives of her loved ones.

Excerpt

Bianca returned to her seat. “I know, Mel. It’s just unnerving. She’s almost seventeen, has a boyfriend, and close to graduating high school.”

A hmm escaped Melanie’s lips. “I know. I still can’t believe it, but enough of that. We’re here to support Sherry and have some fun!”

Bianca giggled at her sister’s enthusiasm, forgetting the empty nester syndrome that was creeping up her spine. Once 112’s song concluded, the lights dimmed. A shush took over the room, and Bianca crossed her legs. Melanie practically squealed in her seat. Spotlights and special lighting highlighted the catwalk. Then Bianca heard a woman’s voice over the microphone.

Thanks to the camera zooming in, Bianca could get a better look at the image on the monitor. The woman was curvy, with long, strawberry-blonde hair and a bright smile dancing across her full face. Though she had only talked to her through Zoom when she hired her, Bianca recognized Giselle Porter. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I’m your host, Giselle, and I’m happy to present to you this evening, our Clique Classic fashion showcase!”

The audience applauded and cheered.

“Amazing!” Melanie squealed.

Giselle continued. “We’ll be including our classic pieces this evening. “I’m also pleased to announce that since the scenery of this Edenville has struck me, I want our models to have their pictures taken around town after tonight’s first show! So… we’re going to be in Edenville for the next month!” The crowd cheered again.

“All month? That’s amazing!” Melanie exclaimed to her sister over the applause.

Bianca’s lips parted, speechless. Imagine how much publicity a month-long fashion event would bring to the town? Were more models attending? That would be a perfect networking opportunity for Bianca, since she did the graphics for the fashion show. Giselle already wrote a five-star review on her website. It was a matter of time before new clients came Bianca’s way. 

Giselle said, “For tonight, we’re going to give you a preview of our upcoming summer line!”

More cheers, and whoops erupted from the crowd. Bianca giggled at the excitement. While she purchased nothing from Clique Classic herself—too out-of-the-box for her simple taste—the clothing line had a few items that piqued her interest. When she spotted Alyssa making her way back to her seat, Bianca stood to her feet. She noticed Alyssa looked back a few times, but she didn’t break her stride. When her daughter reached her, she touched her arm.

“Everything okay?” she asked her.

Alyssa shrugged. “Sure I guess. I thought I saw… I’m sure it was nothing.” She sat in her chair and adjusted in her seat.

“What? Something happen?” Melanie leaned over to hear.

Bianca sat next to her daughter. She didn’t know why her mind returned to the man from the day before. Sandy brown haired man who’d been looking for Sherry. “What did you see?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I couldn’t tell Mom. Like I said, it was probably nothing. There’s a lot of people here, anyway.” Alyssa tucked a curl behind her ear, and while Bianca didn’t want to accuse her daughter of not telling the truth, her mother’s intuition sensed there was more to the story. 

“Here we go!” Melanie pointed to the stage.

Bianca refocused and joined in the cheering as the first line of models came from behind the sheer curtains. Hands on their hips, the women walked the catwalk as if they owned it. Black and white were their colors. A platinum blonde wore a block-colored dress, black and white. The other woman’s hair was jet black, long, and she was wearing a striped black-and-white dress.

“I love the stripes,” Melanie chimed in her ear, despite the loud music.

Bianca pointed to the platinum blonde. “I think I like hers better.”

Melanie nudged her shoulder as the next set of models joined the stage. The first two exited.

Giselle continued. “Short and sweet is the cool, summery look here, ladies and gentlemen. Our models are wearing khaki elastic shorts with red-orange jungle print tops, which look so cute with their open necks and cap sleeves. You can’t go wrong in this simple yet stylish outfit.”

The audience applauded once more.

Alyssa’s mouth dropped. “I love it!”

“Not bad,” Bianca commented, although she couldn’t see herself in red-orange. Covering her mouth, she stifled her giggle.

“There’s Sherry!” Melanie exclaimed while pointing towards the stage.

Bianca smiled while admiring Sherry’s outfit. Her knee-length, pearl-white dress with a jewel neckline was breathtaking. Her shoes? Red pumps. The camera zoomed in on Sherry’s face briefly, showcasing her flawless complexion. Bianca had to ask her about the red pumps. The height of the heel was perfect.

“Is she okay?” Alyssa asked.

Bianca blinked, focusing back on Sherry’s face. The model touched a hand to her forehead for a moment, but then placed a hand on her hip. She continued her model walk, swaying to the runway music.

“If you’re looking for an ensemble on a special night out, you’ll love this sleek yet stylish pearl white dress,” Giselle said.

Bianca stared at Sherry. The woman lost her balance but tried to play it off. She forced a smile and continued.

“Something’s not right,” Melanie said.

“I know.” Bianca couldn’t pinpoint it, but despite Sherry’s flawless makeup, she looked pale.

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About the Author

Daria has lived in Texas for most of her life. She never liked reading as a kid. In fact, she almost hated it. However, as she grew up that all changed. Though she received her degree in healthcare management, Daria kept her writing as a hobby. She meant it to be private and her own way of expressing herself. It never crossed her mind to publish until she was in college. She took a chance and published. It worked!

Connect:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7751720.Daria_White
https://dariawhite.com/
https://www.instagram.com/dariawhite90/
https://twitter.com/Daria_White15

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