Spotlight: Table For Two by Eliot Parker

Genre:  Contemporary Fiction, Short Stories 

Conversation is more than just words being spoken, interpreted, and acted upon by others. Conversation is also the ultimate human interest activity, bringing people into direct contact with people in all of their complexity and vulnerability. The main characters in Parker's ten multi-genre stories set in the heart of Appalachia want to be heard; to have others listen to them-really listen-and understand their needs and concerns.

The characters in these stories do not always get listened to, and many of them find that the need for attention comes from aggression. A woman confronts her father about his dementia. Two fathers whose guilt and shame over the disappearances of their sons hide more sinister motives. A young boy frustrated with a ring appraisal learns a lesson about how people and things can be valued equally. Each of the characters in the collection is faced with a balance of talking and listening with a need for action, which often leads to manipulation and coercion.

The characters in these stories want to be heard; to have others listen to them-really listen-and understand their needs and concerns. However, when they do not get listened to, there is often an attempted persuasion by aggression. One character often finds himself/herself faced with another character who believes that conversation has no place in their lives.

The belief of the antagonists in these stories is that- who needs to talk when there is action that needs to be done? The antagonists believe that there is no need for conversation when the protagonist can be manipulated, coerced, or discredited by actions. Each story is a thrilling adventure with unexpected turns. Parker's honest and provocative prose will captivate readers with its urgency.

Excerpt

From the Stars Above

There was something about him that kept him going. He was a man of conviction.

Tabitha had been jogging in the park and was surprised that on a warm, fall evening, she was the only person jogging on the trails. The greenery around her became charcoal and the grey path was melting into the night.

His figure was discernable as she ran closer. To avoid scaring him, she slowed her run. As the distance between her and the man grew larger, Tabitha studied him intently. He was tall and courtly, with strands of white in his hair. He walked about with no particular destination in mind. 

Tabitha squinted below the low-hanging moon. It had been a typical fall day in Southern Ohio. The dry, sharp, and prickly smell that permeated the air when Tabitha was out on her early morning run had been replaced with the rustling noise of orange maple leaves that floated around the sidewalks. The howling wind snaked between the rough and ragged trunks of the sweet gum trees that lined the park.

She thought about the man for a moment longer. There was something about him that hinted at there being more. He wore a button-down, red plaid shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of brown sneakers. But was that really unique? Maybe it was the face. Tabitha decided to break the silence to learn more. “Sir, are you alright?” Tabitha locked her gaze dead ahead.

The old man had not heard her, so he kept walking. Tabitha heard the snaps of twigs ahead as his feet were jabbed by leaves and pebbles on the path.

“Sir?” The park grew ever darker. Tabitha had been taking early evening runs in the park for several years and she knew that soon the shadows of the trees would blend into the blackness and his silhouette would grow less pronounced. She looked up and caught a glimpse of the moon as a dark cloud drew close, threatening to erase its silver rays. Tabitha felt her heart continue to slam into her chest, despite the lack of running. She had an elderly mother herself at home and knew people their age should not be left alone meandering in the dark. Before Tabitha could call out again, the man stopped walking and slowly turned around. 

“Lance,” said the man. “My name is Lance.”

“Alright, Lance, I’m Tabitha,” she said, introducing herself. “What, may I ask, are you doing here by yourself?”

Lance did not respond, but Tabitha knew he had not heard her question. His sea-blue eyes were rheumy and the corners flecked with dry tears. His eyes pulsed with intensity, but they darted back and forth like he was expecting something to happen at any second.

Tabitha had seen that look before. Her mother often gave the same facial expressions. Though the doctors had not made any diagnosis, she had researched all of her symptoms, including the hesitant steps and difficulty with visuospatial tasks such as going up and down stairs. It was dementia. Could Lance be suffering from the same disease? Tabitha blinked away the thought. She had only watched Lance for several seconds and his indicators could be caused by other conditions. What was considered normal for every individual was always different.

Before Tabitha could say anything else, Lance threw up his arms, then dug a heel into the path and spun around. In another flurry of motion, Lance was scurrying off in the opposite direction from where Tabitha had caught him. 

Confused and worried, she went after him, knowing it was the right thing to do. His shadow grew tight and narrow as he turned around a sharp bend in the path, disappearing into a dark maw between the space of two large tree trunks. Tabitha retrieved her iPhone from her pocket and called 911. “Lance, wait!” she called after him when he had sauntered dangerously away from her line of sight. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” said a woman from the other side of the phone. Tabitha was forced to divide her attention between going after Lance and talking on her phone. 

“Please send someone to the trail lane at Jackson Lake State Park. I, I mean we, just passed marker 404. A man needs help. Please hurry.”

“Is he in immediate danger? What’s going on, ma’am?” asked the woman with a rote tone of formality. 

“No, nothing serious. He is old and lost, dawdling around at a time like this … I look after my mom. She has dementia. He’s … it’s…” Tabitha had a feeling she could not explain. Something in her gut. “I—I think this man, Lance, has dementia, too.” But just when Tabitha thought she had caught up with Lance, he had disappeared. 

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About the Author 

Eliot Parker is the author of the thriller novel A FINAL CALL, which was named a "Best Indie Book to Discover in 2022" by Kirkus Magazine and was a finalist in thriller novel from the London Book Festival. His short story collection SNAPSHOTS, won the 2020 PenCraft Literary Award and the 2021 Feathered Quill Book Award for Short Story Anthology. His thriller novel, A KNIFE'S EDGE, was an Amazon #1 bestseller. Eliot has received the West Virginia Literary Merit Award for his works and has also been a finalist for the Southern Book Prize in Thriller Writing in 2016 for his novel FRAGILE BRILLIANCE. 

He hosts the podcast program, "Now Appalachia" on the Authors on the Air Global Radio Network, which profiles authors, editors, and publishers in the Appalachian region. He also hosts a Youtube/Booktube program called "Page Break," featuring book reviews, interviews with authors, and news about the publishing industry.

A graduate of the Bluegrass Writers Studio at Eastern Kentucky University with his M.F.A. in Creative Writing and a graduate of Murray State University with his Doctorate in English, Eliot teaches writing that the University of Mississippi. For more information, visit his website http://www.eliotparker.com

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Spotlight: Restoration by Noelle Adams

Release Date: August 16

After spending six years as an assistant to reckless, entitled Edmund Worthing, I've finally had enough. I want more in my life than scrambling to fulfill his every whim and demand. He's got too much money and too little responsibility, and he never takes anything seriously. I want to do something worthwhile in my life, and Edmund Worthing will never be that.

So I hand in my resignation letter. After we return from an extended cruise on his new yacht, I'm gone.

The last thing I expect is to get caught in a sudden, devastating storm at sea, but now I'm stranded alone on a deserted island with my obnoxious boss. He can't even pick out his own meal at a high-end restaurant. He'll be absolutely no help as we scrounge for food and shelter.

But, if we want to survive, he's all I've got.

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Meet Noelle Adams:

Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn't stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she reads any book she can get her hands on and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances.

Keep up with Noelle and subscribe to her newsletter.

To learn more about Noelle Adams & her books, visit here!

Connect with Noelle Adams: https://www.noelle-adams.com/contact

Spotlight: Warrior Princess by Karina Espinosa

Genre: Fantasy Romance

Cover Designer: Covers by Christian

Publication Date: Aug. 16th, 2024

In the fantastical realm of Asteria, where ancient bloodlines and magical allegiances govern the land, Leila, a blood mage with a complicated past, finds her fate intertwined with Ronan, the fierce warrior from the Crimson Clan. When an insidious plot by Prince Caelan of Eldwain threatens to destabilize all of Asteria, Leila must harness her formidable powers and confront secrets that could shatter the very foundations of her world.

Together, Leila and Ronan embark on a perilous journey through treacherous territories, from the Grasslands, Keldara, the Central Plains, to the deceptive courts of Eldwain, to safeguard their people and uphold ancient alliances. As battles rage and loyalties are tested, the pair must navigate a tapestry of intrigue and betrayal, where love may be their most powerful weapon or their ultimate undoing.

With the fate of Asteria hanging in the balance, Leila must decide if she can go against the man she once considered her best friend. In this epic tale of magic, love, and rebellion, only the strongest will survive to tell the tale of their victory—or their defeat.

Excerpt

It surprised Piper when Boone’s skin touched hers. She wondered if he meant to be so close. Part of her liked it. Lying here with him felt comfortable even though she hadn’t been romantically attracted. Something about Boone seemed different than any other man she met. She felt safe in his presence.

For a moment, Boone froze. He knew he should probably move his arm before it became awkward, but all he could do was stare through the trees at the stars even though he wanted to turn and look at Piper.

Piper considered scooting over an inch to create space, but then as the moonlight filtered and the stars twinkled through the silhouette of hundreds of tree branches, she decided she was okay with Boone’s arm being pressed against hers. A couple of his fingers settled on hers delicately like a fallen leaf on the summer grass.

“Boone, this is lovely,” she admitted.

Boone began to breathe again although he didn’t know what to say. “It is,” he finally uttered.

“You were right about this view. I think I could lie here all night.”

Neither of them spoke a word for the longest time. They simply basked in the ambiance surrounding their lives at the present moment.

Eventually Piper broke the silence. “Sometimes I try to count the stars.”

Boone smiled in the dark. “That sounds fun.”

“You’re fun, Boone,” Piper stated, wrapping her pinky around one of his fingers. She turned and looked at him. “You deserve this freedom.”

Boone didn’t know precisely what freedom she meant, but he felt as free as the owls in the trees. The way her pinky wrapped around his finger made him more alive than he ever remembered. “Thanks,” he responded, slowly turning his head to meet Piper’s gaze. The clarity of her charming brown eyes surprised him, and once again he experienced that previous connection.

Piper studied Boone’s green eyes. “No matter what happens, you never ever have to go back to her.”

“I know,” Boone replied, trying his hardest to believe it. Suddenly he wanted to kiss Piper’s lips but couldn’t. He could write that on his journey list a thousand times but doubted he ever would, and right now he couldn’t muster up the courage. Baby steps, he heard someone on his shoulder say.

Piper considered rolling onto Boone and kissing him gently. She doubted he would make the first move. Almost any other guy would have already jumped on top of her but not Boone Winters. He was scared and scarred but also a gentleman. This man had been taken advantage of so many times he understood the danger in crossing boundaries. She understood his delicacy and wanted to treat him with the respect he deserved, realizing most of the women he encountered probably jumped on top of him.

Piper and Boone didn’t say much more the rest of the waking night. They just let things be. Mostly they stared at the stars. Their bodies didn’t move, not even their fingers, slightly intertwined like many of the branches above.

It shocked Piper when Boone dozed off to sleep, but it made her glad to know he felt comfortable. She knew she needed to leave but hated to wake him, so she kept gazing at the stars and listening to the ocean, imagining he would wake up soon.

As Piper listened to the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of Boone’s breath, the owls hooted, the sky glowed, and before she realized it, her eyelids collapsed, and sleep captured her body.

The moon moved across the North Carolina sky. The branches slowly danced to the breeze blowing off the Atlantic Ocean. The critters went on about their night. Everything seemed completely peaceful, and then something unexpected happened.

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About the Author

Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy Author of the Mackenzie Grey novels and The Last Valkyrie series. An avid reader throughout her life, the world of Urban Fantasy easily became an obsession that turned into a passion for writing strong leading characters with authentic story arcs. When she isn't writing badass heroines, you can find this self-proclaimed nomad in her South Florida home binge watching the latest series on Netflix or traveling far and wide for the latest inspiration for her books. Follow her on social media!

Connect:

Web: https://www.karinaespinosa.com/

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2rQFsj2

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7784354.Karina_Espinosa

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKarinaEspinosa/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TweetsByKarina

Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/karinaespinosa/

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

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/karina-espinosa

Spotlight: The Bridges I've Burned by J.L. Berg

Genre: Small Town Rockstar Romance

On the cusp of stardom, she was the twist I never saw coming...

On my eighteenth birthday, I ran away from home in search of a better life. Ever since, I've been trying to prove it was worth it. When I'm asked to join one of the biggest rock bands in the country, it finally feels like everything is falling into place.

That is, until I receive a wedding invitation from my estranged brother, Macon. We haven't seen each other in over ten years for a reason, and returning to Ocracoke is the last thing I want to do.

Less than an hour off the ferry, I stumble into a bar and meet her. She's gorgeous and easy to talk to, and we bond over music. Before I get the chance to learn her name, she ghosts me.

Imagine my surprise when I arrive at Macon’s house the next day, only to find her answering the door. It turns out my mystery woman is Elena, the best friend of Macon's fiancée – and my temporary roommate for the next three weeks.

Talk about complicated.

I've never wanted a woman more, but the odds are against us. We live on opposite sides of the country, both with demanding careers. Oh, and the biggest problem? I'm about to be famous and I can't tell anyone.

Not even Elena.

I’ve been working my entire life to get to this moment, but I can’t help but wonder... will any of it be worth it without her? 

Buy on Amazon

Catching Up with the Series: 

The Choices I’ve Made

The Scars I Bare

The Lies I’ve Told 

The Mistakes I’ve Made 

The Secrets We Keep 

About the Author

J.L. Berg is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ready Series and has written over a dozen other novels in the past decade. She is a California native but currently calls Virginia home. When she's not writing, you will likely find her spending time with her family or watching Doctor Who. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC. Learn more at http://www.jlberg.com

Connect with the Author: Website | Facebook | Tiktok | Instagram 

Spotlight: The Arrangement by Sonali Mishra

Multicultural Romance, Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 08/13/2024

Publisher: Harbor Lane Books, LLC.

Perfect for fans of Sandhya Menon’s When Dimple Met Rishi and Graeme Simsion’s The Rosie Project, and lovers of rom-coms across all mediums.

On the eve of his 30th birthday, Arjun Chowdhury is handsome, successful…and single. When Arjun’s mother offers to set him up with an arranged marriage, he reluctantly accepts. However, he realizes that even a “straightforward” road to the altar has its bumps.

The biggest bump of all is Nisha Nandan, a failed romance novelist whose chance meeting with Arjun leads to an undeniable connection. With the date of his wedding quickly approaching, Arjun must decide: should he listen to his heart, or to his brain?

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Spotlight: The Duchess of Kokora by Nikhil Prabala

The Duchess of Kokora, Phera Ylir Mdana, has entered the marriage games of the neighboring kingdom of Ryene. But she’s not there to woo the dashing Prince Dominic. Her true objective? To win back one of the other contestants, Lady Rocelle Virae—Phera’s true love and ex-fiancee. Love proves to be a game like any other when Phera must not only mend matters with her childhood sweetheart, but conceal her true intentions in order to earn votes and stay in the competition. And as long-brewing political tensions simmer beneath the surface, the playful veneer of the competition begins to crack. In the end, Phera, Dominic, and Rocelle find themselves united in a desperate bid to prevent a duel that threatens the integrity of the kingdom, the stability of the continent, and any hope for a happily ever after.

The Duchess of Kokora is perfect for fans of Bridgerton and The Selection with queer romance front and center and tension at every turn!

Excerpt

“Your Honor. In my defense, the gentleman bears a remarkable resemblance to a horse’s ass. When I struck him with that riding crop, why, I was merely thinking to spur him out of everyone’s way!” The Duchess of Kokora, Phera Ylir Mdana, stood tall behind the defense table, widening her eyes in a picture of bewildered innocence as the gallery behind her roared with laughter.  

“Order, order,” intoned the judge. The bald man sat upright in his chair behind the long mahogany dais at the head of the courtroom. His arms lay bare beneath a sleeveless red tunic, revealing intricate golden tattoos running down his forearms and palms in the pattern of the Signs of the Saints. A head monk of the Saintly Path, he had been called in for the inquest since no lay judges were available that afternoon. 

“She makes a mockery of us!” snarled Ser Mansibal Vloram, a turnip-shaped gentleman standing at the table to Phera’s far left. A sharp cut and several bruises purpled his snarling face. “No, of these whole proceedings!” 

Phera raised her bejeweled hand and swept it off to the side. Sharp-faceted blue gemstones sparkled in the glittering talons adorning her fingers, the enchanted accessory complementing the jewel tones of her green dress and the delicate sheen of her padded silver blazer. Her Kokoran braid spilled down luxuriously over her back collar in a series of winding knots, cinched in place by a gleaming silver pin. 

She kept her gaze forward with the slightest tilt of her hawkish face, and with a smooth half-step of her pearl boots, took up a pose of command. She’d foregone the traditional Rynish petticoats and ruffles in favor of a striking modern aesthetic. In a nation that had held itself back from the rest of the world by nearly two centuries in both custom and technology, sporting such a style was as good as having a personal spotlight. 

With a sharp flourish, she finished the layered Wind Signs she’d been tracing with her taloned fingertips. A glowing set of interlocked glyphs materialized in an emerald flash. The effort of concentrating on the spell brought a familiar tightness to the back of her mind and the muscles of her body. But the strain was a little thing compared to the magic she was trained to perform. Phera took a deep breath and the rich petrichor of storm winds washed over her throat, infusing her voice with the resonance of distant thunder.

“You’ve made a mockery of your knightly vows, Ser,” she boomed, “and all without my help. What kind of knight would beat a helpless serving girl? What kind of knight could bear to show his face to this court after having abused one of the very citizens he was sworn to protect? No! You were already shown justice for your actions, and you mock it with these charges against me.” 

“She was just some Unsigned chit,” the knight cursed. “Clumsy and ignorant of how to treat her betters. Are you saying her blood is worth as much as mine?” 

“Of course not,” Phera replied. “You’re a vicious, honorless idiot. No matter her lack of magical talent, her blood is worth far more than yours.” 

Scandalized reactions spilled over from the gallery, long dark benches packed to the gills with commoners and nobility alike, eager to catch a glimpse of the visiting imperial duchess. 

“That serving girl’s guildless!” one man shouted. He puffed out his chest, thumping his hand against the insignia of a hammer and tongs emblazoned on the breast pocket of his coat. “My family’s been smiths for generations. Unlike the guildless, we provide for this country, and we’re damn proud of it. And you’re saying that one of them matters more than a Signed knight?” A low hum of affirming chatter rose around him, and he swelled with pride. “We don’t need this kind of talk from anyone, leastwise from an imperial!” 

“I can’t believe I wasn’t there when this happened!” a voice in the back called with glee. “Duchess! I’ll pay twenty gold pieces to watch you punch him again!” 

Lowborn or high, Phera mused idly, the Rynish love a good show. Her thoughts darkened. A pity that includes standing by and watching while a grown man beats a defenseless young woman in a tavern. 

“My bloodline stretches back ten generations!” Ser Vloram continued once the hubbub quieted down, casting a nervous glance toward the last speaker. “As a Signed knight of the realm, I am protected from such… such indignities!” 

“Evidently not,” Phera stated, crisp as cracking ice, “as your vaunted bloodline did not prevent me from introducing your face to a number of hard surfaces.” The knight met her eyes and she let her gaze turn flat. He shivered and turned away. 

“Your honor! She’s threatening me!” he said. 

The judge nodded, a flicker of discontent flashing in his tired eyes. “Duchess. You are not making a good case for yourself,” he said. 

“I was not threatening the good gentleman,” Phera replied smoothly. “I was merely pointing out the logical flaw in his remarks. If I wanted to threaten him, I would simply tell him that I intend to gauge the worth of his blood by seeing how well he fares when it is removed from him.” A smile. “See? Now that is a threat.” 

The gallery erupted into shouting at her words. “Get them out of here!” the judge called to his bailiff. The bailiff moved to the gallery and motioned emphatically with his cudgel. The crowd was slow and sullen in its departure. 

A tug on Phera’s sleeve distracted her from the spectacle. “My lady.  Your theatrics are not helping.” Tall and graying, Leran, her advisor, took a moment to fiddle with his horn-rimmed spectacles before continuing. “I spoke to some old contacts of mine before this started. The Rynish government does not want to take this matter to trial and create an international incident. Certainly not over a landless hedge knight like Mansibal Vloram. The judge will surely have received instructions to let this go, but he cannot do so without embarrassing his government if you continue to be so flippant.” 

“You brought us to Ryene for one objective,” Leran whispered fiercely as the room emptied. “One. To place high enough in this season of the Rounds without actually winning the crown prince’s hand that your standing is elevated and House Virae will no longer object to your marriage proposal.” He drilled his green eyes into her amber. “But in the four hours since dawn when we arrived in town, you’ve managed to participate in an illegal horse race, officiate a wedding, purchase no less than three haberdasheries, and get arrested for public brawling. I fear you have lost focus.” 

Phera made a pinching motion with her talons to end the amplifying spell on her voice. He makes me feel like such a child sometimes. Especially when he’s got a point. “Well, I will need a high profile if I want the Queen's Council to keep me around. I’m not from here. I don’t have an established presence like the rest of the ladies at court,” she said quietly. “Besides. Wrangling an invitation made us a month and a half late to the event. There’ve already been several eliminations. At this point in the game, there’s no such thing as bad press.” 

“And this inquest? All part of obtaining a high profile?” Leran asked. 

“Well, no. But he was hitting her, Leran. I had to do something about it!” 

“My lady is more than clever enough to have resolved the matter without landing us in front of a magistrate. Your endless witticisms have proven that much.” 

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. I lost my temper.” Recalling the brutal tavern scene, the sound of a fist crashing into flesh, a body crumpling to the floor, the knight advancing on that poor girl to strike her again, all mirth left her face. Her blood ran cold with a violent shiver. Her jaw tightened. “This time I could do something about it. So, I did. I had to.” 

Leran’s gaze softened. “My lady. What happened back then was not your fault. You have nothing to prove, you—” A booming voice interrupted what was sure to be a conversation Phera did not want to have. 

“Hespin Leclair for the defense, Your Honor!” the newcomer called out as a pair of heels click-clacked furiously down the marble floors of the courtroom.

 “For the defense?” the judge said, baffled. “Young lady, this is an exploratory inquest. We haven’t started the trial yet. Who are you? How did you get in here?” A concerned frown clouded his face. “Where is my bailiff?” 

With a smile of intense relief, Phera turned to regard the courtroom’s latest occupant. 

Hespin’s poise made her appear almost royal. Flowing blonde locks cascaded down her temples, framing the warm pools of her almond eyes. She was dressed, as always, in the traditional Rynish style, replete with a full armament of petticoats, a veritable bouquet of ruffles on each sleeve, and of course, a dainty floral-patterned parasol that accompanied her even indoors. By all outward appearances, she was possessed of true Rynish gentility. 

But Phera knew well that outward appearances lied as often as drunken sailors at a brothel. 

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