Tari Lynn Jewett: Featured Author
February 1, 2024 by Tari Jewett in category Charmed Writer by Tari Lynn Jewett, Featured Author of the Month tagged as #Charmed Writers, #FireworksintheFog, #HeromsaForTheHolidays, #PleaseSayYes, Love and Mud Puddles, romantic comedy, Tari Lynn Jewett
Tari Lynn Jewett lives in Southern California with her husband of nearly thirty years (also known as Hunky Hubby). They have three amazing sons, a board game designer, a sound engineer and a musician, all who live nearby. For over fifteen years she wrote freelance for magazines and newspapers, wrote television commercials, radio spots, numerous press releases, and many, MANY PTA newsletters. As much as she loved writing those things, she always wanted to write fiction . . . and now she is.
She also believes in happily ever after . . . because she’s living hers.
Tari’s newest title is Love and Mud Puddles, available now.
Hannah loves her accounting job, the condo that she purchased herself, and her best friend Melinda. What she doesn’t love is baking. To be fair, she’s never tried. But when her cousin shames her into bringing homemade cookies to the family Christmas Eve celebration, she begins a quest to make the perfect holiday cookie.
Paramedic Josh also occasionally teaches kids’ cookie baking classes at his family’s bakery. When a beautiful accountant mistakenly signs up for a children’s holiday baking class, he realizes immediately that she’s in the right place.
Can this local hero help to save Hannah’s Christmas? Or will it all go up in smoke?
Tari’s other Books
Answer Me This
January 30, 2024 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as Dianna Sinovic, short fiction
The deck beckons you to turn over a card. The cryptic symbols on the backs intrigue you, but you aren’t sure you want to wade into the tarot just yet.
A friend gave you the deck yesterday, on your birthday, telling you with a smile, “This will help with your decision.”
Britt knows you too well—that you are often indecisive and in fact have put off this most important action until it is almost too late.
“But I know nothing about fortunetelling,” you sputtered after opening the small box that neatly held the tarot deck.
“All the better,” she said with a knowing nod. “They will guide you.”
And now you stare at the deck, your hands trembling slightly. You feel like a skier at the top of a steep hill: Once you push off, you will be on a downward slope without any ability to stop until you reach the bottom—or hit a tree.
Britt has already nudged you gently. “Start your session with the cards by asking a question.” She winked. “You already know one, right?”
Yes, you do. And, so here you are, whispering the question to yourself. The deck is ready even if you are stalling.
The first card’s smoothness belies the fellow on the other side: a joker. You wonder if you’ve misunderstood the intent. Are these meant for playing a game like poker? Then you notice that the card’s name is the Fool. Ah, that makes sense. Who’s the Fool now?
From some memory your mind dredges up—was it a carney attraction when you were a kid?—you recall that a handful of cards are turned over and from them your fate is revealed.
The memory comes crashing back: The woman with the short-cropped hair and dramatic eye liner, her long, blood-red fingernails tapping the cards as she discussed your future. The musky perfume that infused the small room off the main carnival path.
“Today is here, make the most of it.” Then her frown as she turned over the last card.
You fled before she could pronounce your fate. What had seemed a lark had become menacing. Now, you mull over her cliched answer and realize how spot-on she was: You were indecisive even then.
The Fool’s card is followed by the Six of Wands, then you flip up Judgement, then the King of Cups. Is that enough? Once again, you mine that long-forgotten memory, but the number of cards on the threadbare carney tablecloth is just beyond your grasp.
You decide to turn just one more face up. This time it’s the Wheel of Fortune, reversed.
And now you should have the answer you reluctantly seek . . . somewhere in these images.
The words form in your mind, as though someone or something is dictating them: You are at the cusp of a new beginning. This is your wake-up call; once you take this step, there is no going back, but this is good news. You have long seen your life as one in which you are waiting for the best to come. That changes with today.
And now you are texting Britt. She has posed a question to you, one that will indeed change your life.
“Yes,” you text. “My answer is yes.”
Some of Dianna’s Stories are in the following anthologies:
One Icy Night by W. A. Pepper
January 26, 2024 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours, Spotlight tagged as #BookBlitz, Best Selling author, new release, One Icy Night, Rabt Book Tour, W.A .Pepper
30th Anniversary of the 1994 Delta Ice Storm Edition
Thriller
Date Published: January 26, 2024
ISBN: 978-1958011096
Publisher: Hustle Valley Press, LLC
“Gritting, unexpected, and hard to put down.” – Midwest Book
Review
Rook’s on the run in the most dangerous storm in decades. When a brush with the law goes from bad to worse, can she escape druggies, crazies, and killers?
Abandoned by her now-ex-boyfriend at a dive bar in the middle of nowhere, the last thing resilient Rook Kellum needs is the local sheriff confiscating her I.D. when one phone call could expose her true identity and the reason she is on the run from the law. So when she’s trapped by a deadly ice storm that destroys the Mississippi Delta, the twenty-year-old fugitive has a plan: get everyone drunk, steal back her license (and a madman’s car), and get the hell out of town.
It is only when Rook escapes to a secluded cabin does she discover she isn’t the only one in need of rescue. As she fights her way out of one disaster just to get pounded with another, will Rook live to see the light of day?
One Icy Night is Taylor Adam’s No Exit meets Rachel Hawkins’s The Wife Upstairs.
About the Author
W. A. Pepper writes suspenseful thrillers. You Will Know Vengeance was his award-winning debut novel. He is a USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and Amazon Bestselling Author for his contribution to the business anthology Habits of Success. Under different names, (and his real one of Will Pepper) he has published in multiple academic journals, interactive e-books, anthologies, and online.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, he and his wife Taddy (plus their dog Danger), started the publishing house Hustle Valley Press, LLC. Through it, they published four e-books that have amassed over one hundred five-star reviews. Further, the husband-and-wife team donated the first six months of revenue from the sale of each of those books to charity; this resulted in thousands of dollars raised for the reader-selected charities that support racial equality, COVID-19 relief, veteran affairs, and St. Jude Children’s Hospital.
He has a PhD in Management Information Systems or, as he calls it, Business Computing, from The University of Mississippi. He enjoys coffee, bourbon, snow skiing, Star Wars, comic books, and reading and watching thrillers. Finally, he, his wife Taddy, and their dog Danger split their time between Mississippi and Colorado.
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Where the River Ends by Neetu
January 26, 2024 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as dispersed and dispelled, human sorrow, Neetu
Where the River Ends
in its gurgling sprint
toward the sea
this river into which
I empty love’s ashes—
indeed like many others
before me—
makes no fuss
no cries of complaint
the sediments and muck
of human sorrow
are all the same
to be deposited into
wider arms
deeper depths
dispersed and dispelled
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
ME AND MY BRIGHT BLUE PICKUP TRUCK by Kidd Wadsworth
January 25, 2024 by Kidd Wadsworth in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as Big Trucks, New York, Texas
ME AND MY BRIGHT BLUE PICKUP TRUCK
by Kidd Wadsworth
I’d been invited to a posh dinner to honor director Martin Scorsese. I decided to drive to ‘The City.’ My friend recommended that I take the Lincoln Tunnel. Twilight found me approaching the entrance; I glanced at my gas gauge.
I was young and naive, but I wasn’t worried. “Those New Yorkers are smart,” I said to myself. “I bet they’ve built a gas station right at the entrance of the tunnel.”
Nope, no gas station.
But I wasn’t worried. “Those New Yorkers are smart,” I said to myself, “I bet that tunnel is wide with room on both sides to pull over if you run out of gas.”
Nope, earthworms build wider tunnels.
I may have prayed.
I made it through, wheels still turning, spark plugs still firing. “No need to worry,” I thought. “With all these cars there must be tons of gas stations on the isle of Manhattan.”
Nope.
I looked and looked all the way to the hotel where the dinner was being held. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the valets. I knew they could help me.
“Hi, do you happen to know where I can find a gas station?”
The valet rubbed his chin. He looked at the ceiling. Then he yelled over to his bud. “Hey, Rodrigo you know where this lady can find some gas?”
“Dude, I ain’t got no car.”
The valet promised he’d have an address for me when I came back for my truck.
The event was fantastic, lots of stories, great food. As my first introduction to The City, I was impressed. When the dinner ended, I thanked my host and took the elevator to P1, the parking garage.
Yes, my wonderful valet had an address. I drove through dark streets—one eye on the gas gauge—until I found a line of cars waiting to fill-up at the world’s smallest gas station. I had to do a seventeen point turn to get my truck next to the pump. I breathed a sigh of relief. Never have I been so glad to see my gas gauge read FULL.
I asked the attendant. “How do get back to the Lincoln Tunnel?” Half a page of directions later—remember this was before GPS—I headed across The City. It was 2 AM and I was a bit confused. Wasn’t this the city that never slept? And here I was on a very famous street, Broadway, and everything was so quiet.
Until . . .
I came to this place as bright as day. I’ve never seen so many lights—and people, and noise, and guys working on the sewer system in the middle of the night—and I wasn’t moving, not an inch. You see, it was me, in my bright, blue pickup truck and 10,000 yellow cabbies! Those cabbies weren’t giving me any room.
I tried to be polite. Eventually, I realized I was southern in name only. If truth be told very few battles of the Civil War were fought in Texas. Texans aren’t really southern, we’re Texan, and that’s a whole different breed. For example, southerners pride themselves on being polite. Texans respect gall. I looked at those pathetically small cabbies. Then I looked at my BIG, bright, blue pickup truck. The Texan in me figured I had the right of way. I took my foot off the brake.
What do you know? Those New Yorkers are mighty smart. Why they let me pass. Such nice folks.
I left the lights behind still looking for the tunnel. Once more, and only once more, I gave those New Yorkers the benefit of the doubt. “I bet they have a great big sign pointing to the entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel.” (Just so you know, in Texas the signs are HUGE.)
Nope, they had this little sign two feet off the ground with one bulb illuminating painfully small letters: Lincoln Tunnel –>
Really?
Yes, I made it home, but I realized something. When I go to a foreign country, I’ve gotta know the rules. I can’t assume stuff like—where there are cars, there are gas stations.
So, I asked myself, what would I tell a New Yorker going to Texas?
Here are the things you need to know.
- It’s legal to carry a gun.
- It’s illegal to be a vegetarian.
- Everyone still dresses up to go to church. So bring your lizard skin cowboy boots.
Some of Kidd’s stories are in the following anthologies
Featured Books
HOLIDAY HOME RUN
She’s focused on organizing the best holiday event the youth center has ever seen, not on romance. But Ben…he’s got a game plan for them that includes both.
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