Spotlight: My Life in Stitches by Darla A. Calvet

Date Published: December 12, 2023

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

Darla Calvet is a thirty-nine-year-old working mom whose life turns upside down when she is diagnosed with congestive heart failure. Suddenly, fear threatens her dreams for the future as doctors’ appointments replace her daily routines and she realizes she may not live to see her daughters grow up. After dying twice while waiting for a new heart, Darla begins to understand her own resiliency—her heart may be weak, but her mind refuses to give up.

My Life in Stitches: A Heart Transplant Survivor Story is a candid, witty account of one woman's determination to transform a devastating prognosis into an inspiring fight for survival. Darla’s story offers insight into the complex world of medicine with a dose of humor about her challenges and victories as a heart transplant patient. In this sensitive, thorough, and informative debut, Calvet brings compassion and gentle wisdom to a difficult subject in hopes of demystifying the uncertainties that inevitably accompany long-term, life-threatening medical decisions.

Excerpt

EXACTLY SIXTY-TWO DAYS after I had fainted in the Scripps Green hospital room, I woke up in complete darkness. My heart raced. I had no idea where I was or what happened to me since I passed out on the day I was admitted. I was unable to see without my contacts or glasses and tried to speak but could not emit a sound. For those first few moments, I thought perhaps maybe I was in some kind of purgatory and that this was my eternal bus stop. I felt a distinct heaviness as I tried to move my legs. I reached down around my abdomen and detected the LVAD unit, with a drive line going through my abdomen and its two large lithium batteries attached to my body. The LVAD surgery had occurred. But when, why, and how had it happened? I sat in darkness, vainly searching for the remote control and the button to call the night shift nurse.

I felt a weird combination of relief and confusion. I could decipher from the blurry digits on the clock that it was about 4:00 a.m. I had no idea what day, month, or year it was. I knew from the LVAD installation that some time must have passed, but how much? I must have woken up during a skeletal night shift with very few nurses in the hospital unit. I swung my head as far around as I could, only to see the outlines and lights of seventeen machines in the room, all helping to keep me alive. I immediately started to panic. I seemed to be more machine than human with all of the leads and tubes running in and out of my body. I was also intubated and unable to speak, which was terrifying. I could discern from the many machines attached to me that I was also in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, known as the CICU. This was where the gravely ill cardiac patients were sent by their teams.

“Stay calm,” I told myself. Someone had to be around . . . somewhere. The heavy blackout curtains were drawn around my glass cube room, making me feel claustrophobic. After a long wait, the curtains were flung open by Patricia, my morning nurse, who was starting her shift. She smiled sweetly, saying, “Oh, good. You are awake. We have been waiting for you to wake up.” I was confused and had no idea how I had arrived at my current state in the hospital bed. At that time, the CICU was located in the basement of the Scripps Green Hospital Facility, next to the morgue. It was not exactly a cheery place. I heard some orderlies joking to each other that it was “death’s waiting room.”

Realizing that I could not speak, Patricia took my hand and spoke softly, “You are okay. You have been in a medically induced coma for over two months. During that time, we needed to perform emergency open heart surgery and save your life by installing the LVAD, which you have probably noticed is attached to your body.” I shuddered and pulled the sheets up around my neck. God only knew how close I had come to death. I was about to find out.

While I was very grateful and relieved to be alive, I thought of my family. How had my husband coped during my absence with our two young adult girls? How had they dealt with this horrible situation? My eldest, Claire, was a high school senior. My youngest, Annie, was now a high school freshman. It made me sad to think about missing the important events that were going on in their young lives.

My next thought was my job. What had happened to it? Had someone finally disclosed how sick I had been while continuing to work? It gave me pause to consider that this had happened during my absence. I did not know that my husband had requested a one-year leave of absence after I fainted at the hospital. I was grateful he did this on my behalf. During my last days at my job, my ego kept me from seeking support even as I struggled to walk a few hundred feet from the parking lot to the elevator up to my office.

A few moments later, Nurse Patricia returned with my “breakfast.” It was a peach colored container of liquid protein that looked like cement. I watched in awe as she said, “Down the hatch” and poured it into my feeding tube. “Can you taste anything?” she asked. I shook my head “no.” The only sensation I felt was the cold sludge making its way down the feeding tube in the back of my throat. I had lost quite a bit of weight during my two-month nap. Thirty-four pounds to be exact. My body, which had always been very muscular, was now atrophied and weak.

The LVAD was the third device to be surgically placed into my body after the AICD defibrillator and pacemaker. It cost over a million dollars to install. Now, my job of learning to live with it began. There would be no swimming in the near future. The eight pounds of life-saving state-of-the-art medical equipment that was now part of my body would require ongoing care. I had no idea at that time the battles that had taken place to get the LVAD device installed. I would have certainly died without it.

The next lesson I learned as a transplant patient is: Your medical team must fight to save your life. Even with your insurance company. You do not have the luxury of time on your side.

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About the Author

A heart transplant survivor, Dr. Darla Calvet won a gold medal for ballroom dance in the 2022 Transplant Games of America. Currently, she serves as the vice president of the board of directors for the Southern California Transplant Games of America team. She is also the CEO of Blue Tiger, Inc., a strategic planning consultancy. A doctor of education, Calvet holds degrees from Claremont Graduate University, San Diego State University, and the University of California, Berkeley. She lives in San Diego, California, with her husband Pat and their French bulldog Quinn, and she is the proud mom of two adult daughters, Claire and Annie.

Website: www.DarlaCalvetAuthor.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61550631040393 

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

Spotlight: The Hanging Night by Sasha Hibbs & Christina Hooker

(The Threads of Fate, #1)

Published by: Evernight Teen

Publication date: December 15th 2023

Genres: Romance, Young Adult

Synopsis:

When a sad turn of fate takes Josephine Blair to the small town of Bridgeport, West Virginia, she meets and falls for the devious and cunning Caius Duke. Her life blooms in both wonderful and terrifying ways.

Together, Josephine and Caius discover they have something deeper and more intense than true love. While theirs is a love spanning centuries, what they don’t realize is the stronger their relationship becomes, the more some unknown evil is trying to tear them apart.

A captivating tale of eternal love, vengeful curses, and a power that can make or break them all, The Hanging Night will pull you in, making you wonder how we are all tied together, and if the ties that bind are truly meant to last.

Excerpt

You know you can’t see the air, and you don’t have to see it to know it’s there—it just fills the space, and you’re grateful (whether you realize it or not) because if it didn’t fill the space, you’d suffocate.

That’s how I knew she was in the room.

I had my head down, searching through magazines, when what I can only describe as a heat chill rippled in me, causing me to shiver and the skin on the back of my neck to tingle. When I heard the cooler door pop open, I stopped breathing and stayed perfectly still, hoping this wasn’t the day I got arrested for shoplifting … for stealing stale food and one lousy, domestic beer, no less. If I had to go to jail, I wanted it to at least be for something worth it—money, jewelry, a car. FYI: I’ve never stolen any of those things or anything like that—only necessary or completely useless items, which I know is paradoxical. Let me explain: I’d take a plastic bobble-head of an off-brand, generic Batman or a sandwich before I’d take something sentimental or valuable to an individual—it’s just how I roll, ya know? And only from stores. Like, I don’t want your shit, but if it’s some dumbass thing on a shelf in a Dollar General, it’s fair game, and of course, like I said, I learned to be my own chef at a very young age. And can I really be held responsible for what I do when I am hungry? Isn’t that a famous candy commercial these days?

I wasn’t startled when she spoke, but expectant, and resigning myself to the fact that I was busted, I turned to face the girl. When I looked at her, all I saw was sadness. There wasn’t a stitch of makeup on her face, but she didn’t need any because even in sadness, she was striking. The circles under her eyes were so dark and deep, they almost echoed, but her brown irises were flat, like something was missing in them—a spark, maybe, and at the very end of her left eyebrow, there was a tiny, pink crystal. I immediately loved it—it gave her an edge no girl I’d seen in this boring ass town had. Her espresso-colored hair was knotted up in a bun with frizzy strands sticking out everywhere, which, though messy, was somehow endearing. Overall, she looked defeated, though, like all the air had been let out of her balloon. So, despite the circumstances, despite me being caught, red-handed, stealing my dinner, I immediately wanted to make her smile. So, I made jokes, trying to be cool. I’m not really into labels.

“Put those back!”

“C’mon. They’re five-day old pepperoni rolls. You’re going to pitch them anyway. I’m hungry.”

She seemed to contemplate for a moment, tilting her head and looking at me, taking me all in, trying to figure me out. Her shoulders relaxed a little, and she let out a quick breath, seeming to judge that I wasn’t a threat. “And cigarettes? I know old people do, but what teenager smokes these days? News flash. They’re bad for you. And if you’re only hungry, what about the beer and the magazine?”

“Uh … after dinner entertainment?” I asked, trying to justify myself.

She reached out and grabbed for the 40oz beer I had, and as her hand brushed mine, my brain short-circuited. Ice formed around each of my ribs, cracking then melting, and in that moment, I felt the color red splash through me. She paused, momentarily looking dead into my eyes, and somehow, I knew she felt it too. Our hands had to have only touched for a nanosecond, but it passed in an eternity. The intensity—our brains somehow sharing the same image, as if connected by some weird fiber optic cable—was overwhelming, and I gasped, but the rest of my body was paralyzed as I got stuck in this strange moment with her. But for as quickly as it came and as long as it lingered, the cable snapped, and the moment broke, and the world spun in real time again. My body jerked at the sharp snap back to reality, causing me to yank my hand back, and when I did, the beer exploded in foam and glass shards at our feet, a kind of drunken mosaic.

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About the Author

Christina: I’ve always been captivated by stories and words, but not with the speaking of them (as I'm little more than a foul mouth with appendages), just with the reading and writing of them. 

In 2020, I made my dream of writing a book a reality, and in 2023, my first collaborative novel is releasing!

Connect:

https://www.christinahooker.com/

https://www.instagram.com/christinahookerbooks/

https://www.facebook.com/christinahookerbooks/

By age 5, Sasha Hibbs' favorite movie was Gone With the Wind. By age 12, she completed her 7th grade book report on the sequel, Scarlett. By 18, she met and married her very own Mr. Rhett Butler and as it turns out, she never had to worry about going back to Tara to win the love of her life back. Fortunately, he stuck with her. 

With a love of all things paranormal, the ambiance of the South with its gigantic antebellum mansions and canopies of Spanish moss, and a love for her husband's rich storytelling of blacksmiths and the mythology surrounding their origins, it wasn't long until the world of her debut novel, Black Amaranth, was born. 

When not working her day job as a nurse, you can find Sasha dreaming of her next beach trip, reading the latest YA novel, and drinking more white chocolate mocha than she should. 

Sasha lives in mountainous West Virginia with her husband, Tim, and their two daughters. She is currently hard at work on her next novel.

Connect:

https://sashahibbs.blogspot.com/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7233732.Sasha_Hibbs

https://www.instagram.com/sashahibbs/

https://www.facebook.com/SashaHibbsauthor/

https://twitter.com/SashaHibbs

Spotlight: The Vacation by John Marrs

Publication Date: 12/19/2023

Publisher: Hanover Square Press

How far would you run to escape your past?

Venice Beach, Los Angeles. A paradise on earth. Tourists flock to the golden coast and the promise of Hollywood. But for eight strangers at a beach-front hostel, there is far more on their minds than an extended vacation. All of them are running from something. And they all have secrets they’d kill to keep…

This holiday-set read is a compulsive and addictive thriller, perfect for fans of T.M. Logan.

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Venice Beach, Los Angeles

“That’s her,” the driver yelled to the three men waiting in the rear of the transit van.

He pointed a gloved finger in the direction of a slender woman walking along the sidewalk up ahead.

“You sure?” a gruff voice asked. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

The driver was very sure. He’d watched carefully as his target walked with purpose in her high heels. He recalled her appearance an hour earlier as she made her way up a stainless-steel pole before slowly, seductively descending.

“Yeah, man,” he replied. “You don’t forget a pretty little ass like that in a hurry, even from this distance.”

He was confident their mark was completely oblivious to her impending fate. She stopped suddenly, searching for something that was seemingly wedged in her clutch bag; the streetlamps and neon shop signs illuminated the glitter in her hair. The driver lifted his foot slightly from the accelerator and dipped the headlights as he continued to stalk his prey. Meanwhile, his colleagues slipped black balaclavas over their heads and adjusted their bodies into position—one knelt with his hand gripping the door lever, ready to open it on command; another held plastic restraints, and the third clasped a hunting knife with a serrated blade.

“Ready?” the driver asked. They grunted in unison.

The van sped up, but not so fast as to throw the hunters from the positions they’d rehearsed earlier that day. Then, as it pulled up alongside the woman, the door flew open and the first of her assailants sprang out.

The man with the restraints was the first to reel backward into the vehicle as a bullet from her revolver tore its way through his shoulder blade, taking fragments of collarbone with it.

For a split second, the flash from the gun’s muzzle illuminated the van’s interior as she pinpointed two more would-be assailants poised to drag her inside. Twice more she pulled the trigger; twice more she heard the men screaming. The driver remained rooted to his seat, baffled by how off-kilter their mission had suddenly gone. They had been so confident of its success that there was no Plan B.

“Go, man, go!” yelled a desperate voice as another bullet found its target.

Tires squealed as the van lurched forward, veering across the median and then crisscrossing back toward the sidewalk.

A combination of adrenaline and fury propelled the woman to kick off her heels and run after it, firing twice more and shattering its rear windshield. The vehicle clipped an LA Times newsstand, hurling newspapers into the air; they fell like large chunks of confetti.

She fired one last time, but the van had already corrected itself and sped off out of range. Then she watched in horror as that final shot sent a stranger up ahead, carrying a backpack, sprawling face forward onto the pavement.

Time froze as the consequences of her last reckless bullet resonated.

She had just killed an innocent tourist.

Excerpted from The Vacation. Copyright © 2023 by John Marrs. Published by Hanover Square Press, an imprint of HarperCollins.

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About the Author

John Marrs is an author and former journalist based in London and Northamptonshire. After spending his career interviewing celebrities from the worlds of television, film and music for numerous national newspapers and magazines, he is now a full-time author. His books include No1 bestseller and Netflix series The One, The Passengers, award winning What Lies Between Us and The Good Samaritan. Follow him at www.johnmarrsauthor.co.uk , on Twitter @johnmarrs1, on Instagram @johnmarrs.author and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/johnmarrsauthor.

Connect:

Author website: https://www.johnmarrsauthor.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/johnmarrs.author/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/johnmarrsauthor/?ref=bookmarks

Twitter: https://twitter.com/johnmarrs1

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@johnmarrs.author

Spotlight: A Second Chance by I.S.A. Bella

Genre: YA Contemporary Romance

Tragedy tore us apart.

Scarlett

My entire world changed in an instant.

The biggest betrayal led my brother to his death, shattering my soul in the process.

He was my lifeline, the light to my darkness, and my best friend.

I don’t think I can survive without him until Maverick walks back into my life.

Maverick abandoned me when I needed him the most. He chose my sister over me.

Can I trust him to keep my heart beating, or will he destroy it for the last time?

Tragedy brought us back together.

Maverick

My best friend is gone.

The same day I lost Scarlett.

My Tinkerbelle. My best friend’s little sister.

The girl I ever loved became the girl I could never have.

Our age difference kept us in the friend zone, but she's all grown up now.

I’ve waited long enough to make her mine.

She needs me now more than ever.

I just need to convince my Tinkerbelle I will never fail her again.

Tropes:

*Small town romance

*Brother's best friend

*Age gap

*Small town boy to Hollywood Actor

*Single mother

*Tragedy

*Wicked half-sister

Please be aware this story contains content that might be troubling to some readers. Difficult topics are discussed in this story including mental health. Mature content, adult language, and disturbing matters that may trigger an emotional response.

Excerpt

THE PAST: MAVERICK 22, SCAR 16

After eating Scar's delicious dinner, we dispersed to separate rooms. The tension at the table was suffocating. I tried getting quick glimpses of Scar, but Skye would avert my attention by grabbing my thigh or making small talk.

When it was time to go to bed, I couldn't fall asleep, and it wasn't because Skye was lying next to me in lace panties. I wanted to spend more time with Scar and check in on her. With my hand underneath my head, I saw a flicker of light from the corner of my eye. I heard faint footsteps walking across the hardwood floor.

I glanced down at Skye's sleeping form and gingerly slid away from her. I grabbed my shirt, pulled up my jeans, and quietly walked out the door.

I padded down the hall until I reached the kitchen. An easy smile formed on my face as I took in Scar in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and quietly singing "Alone" by Heart. She spun around too quickly, and her eyes widened when she saw me.

I chuckled and held my hands up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a tray of fresh fruits. Using her hip, she closed the fridge door and placed the tray on the table. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked, reaching for a strawberry and bringing it to her lips before biting into it.

I cleared my throat. "Yeah. Is that why you’re up?"

She nodded and grabbed another strawberry. My eyes involuntarily moved to her pink lips. "Do you want one?" she asked, holding a strawberry out.

I gave her a small smile. “No thanks, Tinkerbelle.”

She blushed at the nickname. I headed toward the cupboard behind her and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. Her face lit up when she saw what I was doing. I grabbed a few strawberries and dipped them in the jar. I set a few in front of her.

Strawberries dipped in peanut butter were her favorite snack as a kid. At first, I thought it was gross, but she convinced me it tasted like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. After one taste, I was addicted.

"It's your fault I love these damn things," I teased, making her blush even more. She grabbed one and took a bite. A moan escaped her pretty mouth, making my dick twitch. I shoved a cracker in my mouth to drown out the sound of her breathy moans before I did something that would put me in jail.

"Oh, God. This is so good."

I choked on my snack when I saw a picture of her making those sounds as her body writhed underneath me.

"Are you okay?" Scar patted my back with a wary look.

I nodded and stepped around her, ashamed of my thoughts, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

I was going to hell.

"Ricky?" Scar's soft voice sent goosebumps across my skin. She closed the distance between us and handed me a napkin.

"Thanks," I murmured, wiping my mouth.

She was like my sister, as Seth would remind me.

She's too young.

She's your best friend's little sister.

I kept repeating these words to convince myself that it was fucked up. I needed to fight the urges that I shouldn't be having for Scar.

My Tinkerbelle.

It was so fucking wrong.

But when she looked at me with those big golden eyes, I couldn’t help but graze the corner of her mouth with my thumb. Her breath hitched, and her lashes fluttered and her eyes closed briefly, absorbing the moment between us.

"You got a little something..." I whispered, watching my finger trail over her bottom lip, a pinkish shade coming to her cheeks.

"Mav, what are you...?"

My hand quickly fell to my side at the sound of Skylar's voice. I looked up to see Skylar shooting daggers at us and the compromising position we were in. I looked down to see how close our bodies were and swallowed. Scar must have noticed it, too, because she stepped back and mumbled something. She danced around Skylar, but not until she got in a dig.

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About the Author

I was born and raised in Buffalo, New York until our family moved around to four different states. Currently reside in Ohio with my husband Steven of fourteen years. No children or fur babies. I have three siblings: a sister who will go to the earth and moon for you, an older brother who passed away unexpectedly in 2019, and a younger brother who loves with his whole heart. I am also a proud auntie to a teenage niece and nephew.

My dream was to become a writer someday, but real life got in the way. I started writing in my journal at an early age. Over time, the words in the pages formed into poetry. Reading and writing is my way of “escaping reality.” Real life sucks sometimes and getting lost in a good book helps make it less sucky.

My favorite genre is romance which includes young adult, contemporary, sports, and fantasy.

​When I am not reading or writing, you will find me in the kitchen baking a crap load of sugar that I do not need or binging on the next series on Netflix, movies (huge superhero fanatic) reading my Kindle at all hours of the night, or watching Tik Tok videos. Thank you for giving my books a chance. I hope you will fall in love with the characters as much as I had fun writing them.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Spotlight: Summer Sparrow by Emmerson Hoyt

Rylee Adder left Eden thinking she’d put the worst day of her life behind her.

She was wrong.

Separated from her new family and Colton—the man she never thought she’d have to live without—Rylee finds herself in Boston facing her biggest challenge yet: surviving the Viper’s Den.

Plagued by nightmarish memories, she throws herself into uncovering evidence to bring down those threatening the ones she loves.

If Rylee fails, Eden’s dark history is destined to repeat itself. But she’s not the only one on the hunt for answers, and some secrets are desperate to stay buried.

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About the Author

Emmerson Hoyt lives in Austin, Texas with her husband and a small horde of animals. When she's not writing, she's playing video games or finding an excuse to get another floral tattoo. Keep up with Emmerson and subscribe to her newsletter: https://bit.ly/3ZVjY2G

To learn more about Emmerson Hoyt & her books, visit here!

Connect with Emmerson Hoyt: https://www.instagram.com/emmerson.hoyt/

Spotlight: Homecoming by Ana Balan

Ian Williams and Lola Adams met when they were kids.

Living in a dreadful place, they leaned on each other to get through the day.

Then, at age sixteen, Ian had to go away and leave Lola behind.

At the crossroads, before parting ways for good, they promised each other they would always remember their time together.

Fifteen years go by, and the impossible happens.

They meet again in the unlikeliest of places.

Lola has never forgotten her friend from childhood, and over the years she has developed a crush on the man that appears in papers on a weekly basis. But Ian doesn’t seem to remember the girl from his past right away.

Seeing the hurt on Lola’s face drives Ian to make things right. But, how can he do that when he’s keeping secrets that could destroy everything?

Brought together by fate, and still getting to know each other as adults, they face the massive battle of beating demons from the past, and the hostile world of Formula One, trying to give their future a chance.

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About the Author

Ana Balen was born in Zagreb, Croatia, where she still lives with her husband, their son (read boss!) and the son’s pet rabbit named Shhh! (or some other gibberish that’s the favorite of their son for the day.)

She spends her days driving her husband up the wall (when he can’t get her ass up from the bed in the mornings), reading and daydreaming, or following orders from a two-year old. In the hectic life she leads (and loves every second of it), she never thought about writing. But, then one day a name popped in her head, then, the snippets of things, and she sat down and started typing. Next thing, she wrote a book. And now, she’s trying to write another one ;)I couldn’t be more grateful for this wonderful career. 

Keep up with Ana Balen and subscribe to her newsletter.

To learn more about Ana Balen & her books, visit here!

Connect with Ana Balen: https://authoranabalen.wordpress.com/contact/