The Matriarch by Annabelle McInnesTour – Book Release Tour

The Matriarch is the thrilling first novel in the Women of the Dust dystopian romance series. If you like enemies-to-lovers, dynamic couples, and empowered feminism, then you’ll adore Annabelle McInnes’s gritty tale.
Author: Annabelle McInnes
Title: The Matriarch
Series: Women of the Dust Book 1
Release: October 12th
Genre: Dystopian Romance
Pages: 358 
Cover Designer: Lana from Bookcoverology.com
Available now – 99c Sale!
Her citizens are oppressed. His society is diminishing. In a frantic bid for survival, can their fiery union save their peoples?

On a scorched and barren future Earth, Yolanda is her people’s only hope. As Matriarch of an all-female nation, the battle-hardened commander fights an impossible war while desperately seeking a way to stop her subjects from dying of thirst. But when the enemy king is beheaded by his own warrior son, she’s offered a truce that will bring the water they urgently need… in return for leaving her populace defenseless.

With his father dead by his hand, the Hammer is determined to rebuild the shattered community the warmongering king’s brutality almost destroyed. In a bold move to strengthen his dwindling numbers, he offers armistice to a dangerous queen and her bloodthirsty horde of fighting women. All he asks in exchange is for her to accompany him to petition the Council to drop their poisonous sanctions…

As they uncover the truth behind the horrific war, Yolanda is surprised when her begrudging respect for her capable companion blossoms into unexpected desire. And though the Hammer learns there’s more to the impassioned fighter than her brutal reputation suggests, he fears giving himself to her could make him a traitor to his own kind.

When their united strength pits them against oppressive factions, will their growing bond become an unbreakable force?
When the sun shattered the clean line of the horizon in a cascade of flame, sparks and tangible heat, Yolanda, seventh-generation Matriarch of the Horde was meant to call for her army’s advance. 

Instead, she held her breath and remained mute. 

The rising sun was intended to be a precursor to their charge, the beacon, the flag to announce their attack. But Yolanda’s said nothing as her eyes watered, watching the wavering orb burn the edges of the landscape, expanding and inflating with every slow beat of her heart. 

About her, the creak of armour was exasperated in the void when the women of her army fidgeted, remaining silent as they waited for their Matriarch’s command. Idle engines rumbled low, the unwavering buzz of irritating insects hovered and the wind was a murmur in her ear, whispering words of foreboding.
The sun continued to climb, and still, she didn’t call for their stampede. 

Ignoring the swelling impatience of her women as it billowed around her, Yolanda closed her eyes from the bright majesty before them and tilted her head. She blocked out the sight of the infinite sweep of fist-sized red stones, the swathes of pink sand, the evidence of an arid riverbed stretched out before them. She ignored the smells of engine grease, the musky, comforting scents of the women who surrounded her, and the sharp stink of heating iron and warming steel. She focused solely on one single sense. Fixated and determined, she strained to hear the hushed warnings on the breeze. 

The wind whistled, hissed, murmured and howled. 

Then, it sobbed. 

From the age of sixteen, Annabelle lived in a homeless youth refuge while she remained committed to her education. She spent two years within a section of society that most overlook. 

Her experiences are the foundations that drive her stories and her characters. They fight for their freedoms, have courage in the face of adversity, and always aspire for greatness. 

Annabelle is the author of True Refuge, an International Bestseller and a finalist for the Australian Romantic Book of the Year in 2018. She is privileged to live in a small rural town in country New South Wales and writes to a distinctive Australian backdrop with its captivating change of seasons. 

Outside of her love for reading, she spends her time with her husband, son, and her fifteen-year-old poodle named Serendipity. She drinks her whisky neat and can often be found at the local market hunting for blue cheese and artisan bread.

Simply West of Heaven by Moniqu Bucheger – Book Tour



When Monique isn’t writing, you can find her playing taxi driver to one or more of her 12 children, plotting her next novel, scrapbooking, or being the “Mamarazzi” at any number of child-oriented events. 

Even though she realizes there will never be enough hours in any given day, Monique tries very hard to enjoy the journey that is her life. She shares it with a terrific husband, her dozen children, twelve grand-darlings, too many cats, and many real and imaginary friends. She is the author of several books in three series and hopes to write many more.

  
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When her dad confiscates her deceased mom’s journals, 12-year-old Ginnie West counts on her BFF, Tillie, to help her get them back. But Tillie’s not so sure the ghost of Ginnie’s mom will make a good addition to their new family tree.

Then the girls’ world gets flipped upside-down when a blast from the past shows up and makes Tillie go nutburgers. Life gets complicated when Ginnie is forced to choose between helping her best friend and getting the answers she’s always dreamed of.


What reviewers are saying about this book:
*Like Anne of “Anne of Green Gables,” Ginnie is a character you can’t help but love.

*I couldn’t put these books down. I was not only entertained, but inspired.

*Bucheger does an amazing job of writing this story but without giving a cookie cutter answer to the problems Ginnie faces. 





Mama?” Ginnie repeated, shaking her head like an Etch-A-Sketch, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The woman’s hand flflew to her mouth. “Oh, honey, no! I’m so sorry.” She reached a hand to Ginnie’s shoulder. Ginnie stiffffened, certain the hand would go straight through her like sunlight. You can’t feel ghosts, right? Instead, the hand pulled her closer. The woman’s other arm slipped around her shoulders and squeezed Ginnie into a bear hug. She started to resist, then recognized the flfloral scent of her mother’s perfume. The arms released her. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry! I didn't think about that … I mean … I’m sorry. I'm not your mama.” Feeling like she’d just stepped offff the Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair, Ginnie lurched to the side. The woman wiped her eyes. Ginnie tried to make sense of her words. “I'm your aunt … Aunt Roni.”






Oric and the Alchemist’s Key by Lesley Wilson – Book Sale Blitz

“Oric and the Alchemist’s Key is hilarious, exquisitely written, and delightful.”

Author:Lesley Wilson
Title:Oric and the Alchemist’s Key
Series: The Oric Trilogy
Genre: Medieval Adventure/Romance

 ON SALE FOR 99c! 
Amazon US | UK | AU

Returning to the manor after an early morning foraging errand, Oric finds his home alight, the inhabitants dead, and his mentor mortally wounded. The old man relinquishes a key, warning Oric that a terrible disaster will surely occur should it fall into wrong hands. The alchemist also hints of great wealth, but he dies before he can impart any further information. 

In his quest to unravel the mystery surrounding the alchemist’s key, Oric experiences many challenging adventures before a surprising and lifechanging conclusion is reached.

 ON SALE FOR 99c! 



Moonlight cast long shadows across the churchyard, creating a black and silver scene. Trees took on sinister shapes, and a sudden breeze made an ancient yew tree creak. An owl hooted from his perch in the bell tower, causing Oric’s neck hairs to stand on end.
     
An urge to relieve himself overtook Ichtheus. While he  fumbled with all his extra clothing, Oric and Parzifal sloped off around a bend in the pathway. Ichtheus was in full-stream when the pair reappeared, running as if chased by demons. Oric crashed into his master, and bowled him over. Unable to turn off his tap in time, Ichtheus pissed copiously into one of his boots. 
     
“Damn your eyes, boy.” Ichtheus staggered to his feet, “What in heaven’s name are you about?” He shook his foot. “You blithering fool… look what you have caused me to do.” Setting his wet boot on the ground, he was disgusted to hear it squelch.
     
Oric’s voice rose from hoarse whispers to high squeaks of terror, and  he grabbed Ichtheus by the arms. “Master! Master! I saw it. Her! The thing!”
     
“What thing, boy? Ichtheus shouted and shook Oric as if he were a rag doll. “What thing?” 


Book Two

Book Three


Born in North Yorkshire, Lesley Wilson was inspired to write stories at an early age. She turned her father’s garage into a theatre and produced juvenile dramas. Local kids who watched her shows were expected to donate a penny to the RSPCA. In her early teens, Lesley joined a theatre company and took part in many productions.

On a train trip to Italy in 1957, Lesley met a young man. A whirlwind courtship followed before he joined the British Army. Fifteen months and hundreds of letters later, Lesley, aged seventeen, boarded a troop ship bound for Singapore, where she married the love of her life.

Lesley’s careers have included fashion modeling, market research and running her own business but writing has always been her true passion. She completed a course in Journalism with the London School of Writing and has been an active member of a writers’ group.

She now lives with her husband in North Queensland and enjoys frequent visits by her two teenage grandchildren. When Lesley isn’t writing, she loves to read, entertain friends, and travel.


Time Management for Creative People by Author Deirdra – Book Blitz



Deirdra has spent the last decade captivating audiences of all ages with her novels and fairy tales. Her specialty is paranormal theology that delves into documented historical phenomenon and natural disasters of biblical proportions. 





Chances are you’ve tried and failed with spreadsheets, agendas, day planners, and other mathematical and finite ways of measuring time. Applying the strict regimes of industrial systems to a creative mind can kill creativity, damper the enjoyment of your work, and knock you off balance.

In this workbook you will learn to balance, organize, and prioritize all you need to get done by living your life in creative cycles and seasons while maximizing your high and low energy times the way you were meant to.


Your creativity is a powerful force that can be harnessed, focused, controlled, commanded, and become a powerful ability as you masterfully channel your desire to create into the powerful motivating force it is meant to be.

  
  




What She Left Behind by Author Rebecca Caswell – Book Blitz




In life we are blessed to have those who we love. Those we depend on. Those whose very existence proved to help to shape and form us into the very person we are. But what happens when you lose someone whose light, love, and strength brought so much significance and guidance to your life? How do families navigate through the pain of losing a mentor, mother, wife, and friend? What happens as the family dynamics begin to change and shift? After our lives are turned upside down do we ever find ourselves back to a new normal? What She Left Behind is a deep emotional journey that takes you into the abyss of love and loss. It is a memoir of a fight with grief. It takes you down a winding personal account of tragic events and one woman’s struggle to find who she really is without the love and strength of her mother. Caught between holding on and letting go, she attempts to weed through the pain and trails that the family faces. This is a story about finding our way out of the depths of heartache and the redemptive way we find ourselves back home.

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Rebecca Caswell is a writer living in the beautiful foothills of the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming. She is a joy-filled wife and mother of three. When Rebecca is not writing, she runs a salon and furniture renovating business called Teal House Beauty Lounge.


What She Left Behind is Rebecca’s first book. She wrote it hoping to help others cope with the profound losses that we all must face.  









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Snippet:

All seemed well. Holding the mug of coffee between my hands, I brought it closer. I felt the steam of freshly brewed coffee travel to my senses. Watching the steam rise, I blew softly and took in that first glorious sip, always delighting in the sweetness. I drink my coffee with one drop of milk and five scoops of sugar. Don’t judge me. I am a bit of a sugar addict. Setting it down, I lit a cigarette and scrolled through my messages. I needed to call Dad back, I think. So I clicked on his voicemail. I never did this. I usually skipped the voicemail and just went straight to calling back. But something urged me to listen to it first. I’m sure it’s of no urgency, convinced that you only needed a haircut. But still, I felt the need to hear it first.



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