Friday, September 13, 2019

Adventurous Ali Book Blitz

Adventurous Ali: Temple of the Monkey God
By Tyler H. Jolley
Genre: Middle Grade, Adventure, Friendship

After Alison Liv Isner is sucked into an old globe that sat on her father’s desk, she wakes beside a campfire in a lush jungle, surrounded by five talking animals. She quickly realizes these are the same friends her mom wrote about in her expedition journal. Now, at only eleven-years-old, she has the opportunity to complete her deceased mother’s unfinished expedition in the Temple of the Monkey God.  

With her new found friends, a monkey, a fat rat, a bat, a burro with a piranha in a mason jar tied around his neck, Ali decides to face the treacherous booby traps inside of the temple and save the monkey idol from an evil group called The Geese. 

As she learns more about her deceased mom through her adventure journal, Ali and her friends realize the book is the key to lead them through the tunnels of the dreaded Temple of the Monkey God. If not, their lives are at stake and Ali will be trapped in the expedition realm forever. 

About the Author

Tyler H. Jolley is five-foot sixteen inches. By day he is an orthodontist, and by night he is a sci-fi/fantasy author. He carries a curse with him each day, too many fun book ideas and too little time to write them. There isn't a place or time that ideas don't slam into the creative squishy part of his brain. Fun facts: he hasn't puked since 1996, he loves pencils and mountain biking. Writing and riding are a big part of his life.

His debut novel, EXTRACTED came out in 2013 with Spencer Hill Press, and has been a Spencer Hill Press Best Seller, as well as an Amazon Best Seller. PRODIGAL and RIVEN, the second and third books in The Lost Imperials series were released in May of 2015.

Social Media Links: 

Amazon Buy Link:


“Here we go.” Ali stepped into the dark opening. Cool, damp air tickled her nose. It reminded her of the inside of a trunk her dad had accidently left in the rain. The next week when they’d opened it, the moldy smell was pungent. 
Just a few feet in, light from the entrance cast itself at an angle on the opposite wall.
Everyone had sidled up next to Ali.
“What are you thinking, human?” Figgy asked.
Ali shrugged.
Chicaletta rummaged through the pack on Figgy’s rump and produced a metal-handled flashlight. Ali tripped just as Chicaletta flicked on the light.
Ali looked down at what she’d fallen over. A skeleton with rotted clothes. She screamed.
Suddenly, a huge, square stone as wide as her father was tall and at least two times her height crashed from the ceiling and blocked the entrance.
Glenda’s high-pitched scream nearly deafened Alison Liv Isner.
Chicaletta whipped around and pointed the flashlight at the stone blocking the door. Ali tried to speak but couldn’t find her voice. Adrenaline surged through her veins. The stone wasn’t just blocking the door, but it was also a weapon. Spikes of varying lengths jutted out at them from the rock.
Ali shook her hands, trying to calm her nerves. “What now?”
“We’re trapped,” Tristan said. “We’re going to die.”
“Never mind him,” Bait said.
“Ignore me all you want,” Tristan said. “But one day I’ll be right. Probably.”
“Chicaletta?” Ali walked toward Figgy’s pack. “Do you have another flashlight in there?”
“Yes,” Chicaletta said. “But we should save the batteries.”
“Just light one of those bones on fire,” Tristan yawned.
“What?” Ali nearly yelled.
“It’ll be fine, watch,” Tristan said. He scurried over to the bones. “Hey, skeleton, do you mind if we use your femur?” He held his pink hand up to his ear. “Skeleton, if you don’t want us to use your leg and clothes, speak now.” The skeleton didn’t move. Tristan turned back to the group. “See? He doesn’t care.”
Ali looked to the others for guidance.
“I’ll fish out the flint,” Tristan said. “No offense, Bait.”
Ali walked toward the skeleton with trepidation. But, Tristan was right, after all. Any adventurer would wish to be useful, even in death.
“I guess,” Glenda swallowed hard, “it should be okay.”
Chicaletta blinked and nodded at Ali. “Hurry.”
Ali knelt next to the skeleton and wrapped her hands around its leg; she closed her eyes and cringed. The femur was the largest bone and came free easily from the hip joint. She wrapped the tattered clothes around the end just as Tristan scurried back with a flint and steel. Ali struck the U-shaped steel against the flint, and sparks fell toward the old cloth. It smoldered, and she blew on the embers. Flames encompassed the cloth. It cackled to life, illuminating a modest space in front of her.
Between Ali’s torch and Chicaletta’s flashlight, the tunnel was still fairly dark. The temple felt more like a cave. Musty air permeated the ten foot high stone tunnel.
A hideous scraping sound of stone on stone grabbed their attention. The large block with spikes slid toward them. Slowly, at first. Then with momentum.
“Run!” Ali waved her torch toward a tunnel. “This way.”
The block slid forward with spikes inching closer to Ali and her friends. But then it momentarily stopped, caught on the dry skeleton. Bones crunched and twisted. The skull had become wedged. The spiked stone lurched, and the skull exploded, filling the room with white dust behind them.
Alison Liv Eisner ran down the tunnel, her friends in tow.
There was no stopping the boulder. Filled with terror, Ali pushed forward. The torch’s weak light made it difficult to see far in front of them. The barbed block was a bulldozer, pushing aside dirt and leaves, combined with the dead adventurer’s clothes and bones. A loud banging and clanking noise drew Ali’s attention to what was ahead of them.
“What on earth is that ruckus?” Bait asked.
“I don’t know,” Glenda said. “But it sounds dangerous.”
            “Glenda,” Ali said. “Fly ahead and use your echolocation to figure out what it is.”
            “Ali, that is a spectacular idea. I can totally do that.” Glenda fluttered away.
“Be careful,” Ali yelled after her.
            The group carefully trudged forward, but the spiked stone didn’t stop. Chicaletta’s flashlight cast a dull-yellow cone just a few feet ahead. The hallway narrowed the deeper they walked.

Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Victoria Book Blitz

By John Molik
Genre: Technothriller, Science Fiction, Action and Adventure

It's the year AD 2430. Almost four hundred years earlier, humanity had barely survived a horrific near-extinction-level event: a solar micronova. Survivorship colonies set up by a cabal with advanced technologies eventually evolve into a global Perfect Society called the United Federation of Connectedness (UFC). 

Initially based on co-ops, barter and trade, and equal access for all, a model that rose out of the ashes of the authoritarian governments of the past, humanity, bored and striving for more, eventually steers the planet to a balanced authoritarian model run by Victoria, a genetically engineered Master Server, implanted with artificial intelligence.

When the Animal Rights Act is introduced, the backward-looking religionists and many others think that Victoria has finally gone too far. Artificial love is the glue that keeps the heavily networked society together, but a radicalized religious cult, the MHs, who yearn for a natural connection to their God, reject technology and the electronic beasts who govern. Protected by the blood of their human messiah, they launch a terrorist attack to take down the Perfect Society and replace it with their own.

A top scientist, Claressa, who is loyal to Victoria, and her boyfriend, Pierre Lewalski, are summoned to UFC Capital City to thwart the attack.

Will they be successful? Should they be?

About the Author

John grew up in Rancho Palos Verdes, California, graduated from UC Davis with a bachelor's degree in economics, and has worked in numerous corporate finance and project management positions in the consumer electronics and IT industries. In 1990, he took an extended backpacking trip of the South Pacific before attending graduate school. He met his future wife in New Zealand, and they were married in 1991. They settled in Laguna Niguel, California. In 2003, John and his family (now with two kids in tow) relocated to Christchurch, New Zealand.

John's passion for writing began when he was a student at UC Davis and worked as a feature writer for the California Aggie newspaper. Having been nominated for a Hearst Journalism Award (1986) for a feature on genetic engineering, John later found the inspiration to write again. In 2013, he began outlining his first thriller, The Fiduciary Delusion, which became the first novel in the Horsemen trilogy. John loves to read techno-thrillers, science fiction, murder mysteries and action and suspense novels. Some of his favorite authors include: Philip K. Dick, Kurt Vonnegut, Lawrence Sanders, Isaac Asimov, Michael Faber and Clive Cussler. 

John's interests also include science, existential philosophy, health, and both Western and Eastern holistic medicine. John also plays guitar, piano, sings, and writes music. In addition, a self-confessed “gym rat,” John can be regularly found lifting weights, trudging up hills, sea kayaking, and getting out and about enjoying the beautiful wild outdoors.


“Careful! If you don’t get this part right, you will blow us all to hell!”
Boniface Rotner faltered, shook his head, and aggressively ran his hands through his shoulder-length black hair.
Cornell Elam, a bald 54-year-old technician from the sect, leaned against the stainless steel railing which encircled the metal alloy chamber. Peering down, he glimpsed the top of Boniface’s mat of black hair. Cornell wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He pleaded. “Come on! You can do this!”
Boniface Rotner gazed up through the metal tunnel and bit his lip. “Of course I can, Mr. Elam.”
Boniface, at only 15 years old, was far ahead of anyone in their sect in intelligence, creativity, and focus. Earlier, it was decided by sect leaders that he was the only one that could accomplish this critical mission. Not only was Boniface the only one who understood the technical complexity of this 398-year-old technology, he also had very small hands due to his age, which was a crucial job requirement for this particular task.
Having recently resurrected the bank of Moray generators using his keen intellect, time was of the essence.
Boniface grasped the magneto coil wand and carefully inserted it into the capacitance resonator of the high-voltage transformer. Mr. Elam is right. This goes wrong and this entire community will be enveloped in a ball of super-heated plasma.
Cornell’s breathing quickened and his palms were clammy. Fidgeting, he mindlessly looked right then left, and replied, “Alright, then! But, you got to hurry, lad! You got to hurry!” Cornell nervously glanced over his shoulder as if the empty ten-by-ten-foot, fully contained and impenetrable control room was suddenly being breached by a pack of rabid wolverines.
Sweat was pouring down the nape of Boniface’s neck, but he paid little attention to it. Busy concentrating on the task at hand, he knew that the magneto wand must not touch the quantum harmonic oscillator. The Moray generators were at full bore, producing over 5,000 kilowatts of raw electrical power, and were just one step away from being connected to the Tesla scalar interferometer which, when ignited, would produce a thin, impenetrable shell of electromagnetic energy hovering over the sect’s temple and surrounding area. No weapon, or even gamma radiation from an electromagnetic pulse, would be able to touch those living under it. But, if Boniface screwed this up and touched the oscillator, it was lights out for every living thing in a ten-mile radius.
Suddenly, the dead quiet of the sealed control room was interrupted by a strange, distant whirring sound.
Like a cocker spaniel sensing the scampering of a squirrel, Cornell jerked his head in the direction of the sound. “Shit! Those are fucking incomings!” He pounded the steel railing with both fists. “Hurry!”
Boniface squeezed his eyes tightly to assuage the anxiety and regain focus. Opening them slowly, he made sure his steady hand did not waver. The magneto wand just had to pass by the hidden oscillator and make contact with the bridging terminal.
The sound of the incoming missiles, likely all nuclear-tipped, grew louder and louder as their perilous cargos came closer to their target.
“For fuck’s sake, Rotner! It’s now or never!”
Boniface didn’t like swearing, as it was against their religion. Besides, it was Mr. Elam who had taught him acceptable words from the past to use as substitutes. Yet, he also realized that when your life and the lives of all your community looked like it was nearing their end, man’s evil tongue could sometimes release vulgarities, so he forgave Mr. Elam.
Figuring he had about five seconds, he quickened his pace. Biting his lip, he edged his hand forward through the small gap toward the contact plate.
A thin, shrill voice, like the cry of a dying mouse, emanated from Cornell Elam. He held his head in his hands.
Four inches to go. Boniface precisely guided the wand upward. The sonic roar of the incoming missiles was now vibrating the entire control room. It was now or never.
As soon as Boniface touched the plate, an ear-shattering electronic clang and hum assaulted their ears. The hair on his head stood on end as if he was grabbing the top of a Van de Graaff generator. The banks of LED lights on the control panels illuminated just before the entire room shook violently.
Cornell Elam was thrown from his perch into the steel chamber, landing on top of the 15-year-old.
Boniface’s face was red hot. This was the last thing he felt before his rapid descent into total darkness.

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Becoming Grim Book Blitz!

Becoming Grim
By Ashley Tomlinson
Genre: NA Urban Fantasy

Piper is running away from a cheating boyfriend and New York City when something terrible happens, her plane crashes. Instead of going to Heaven or even to Hell she goes to a whole other plane of existence. Now not only is she dead but she is a reaper learning the ropes to collecting souls from the handsome, Zeke. 

Everything is going great until Piper sees something that she's not supposed to see. Now she is torn between keeping it to herself or putting her and everyone she's come to care for in danger. 

About the Author

Ashley Tomlinson was born in a very small town in South Carolina and now she lives in a slightly larger city in South Carolina with her husband. Most days you can find her writing in her home office that is filled to the brim with books and candles. When she isn’t writing she’s spending time with her plethora of animals, curled up reading on her couch, painting, or crocheting a blanket that she will probably never finish. She also loves being apart of the bookstagram world, especially taking photos of books. 

She knew she wanted to be a writer in high school but didn’t pursue it fully until she was in her twenties. Now not a day goes by when she isn’t in front of her laptop typing away. Her head is always in the clouds thinking up new scenes or coming up with a new book idea.


Monday, May 13, 2019

Book Spotlight & Excerpt: Boundless Intimacy by Dr. Bonnici

Boundless Intimacy
By Dr. Bonnici
Genre: Nonfiction, Meditation

About the Book

In my book, you will learn how to passionately live from the still brilliance of your core-
Self, how to recover the playful spontaneity and ever fresh wonder of your beginner’s
heartmind, how to love and receive love with courageous openness and authentic clarity, and how to live in boundless intimacy with the whole universe while thinking, feeling, speaking, doing, and tenderly caring.

As you conscientiously study and apply the teachings within my book, your everyday life and relationships will be enriched and enhanced far beyond your expectations. As your spirited, loving, and vibrant aliveness exceeds your expectations, you will continue to arrive as a radical human being who daily embodies the joyful practice of transparency, wisdom, compassion, creativity, enlightenment, and endless gratitude.


“Do not grasp at boundless intimacy or push it away. If you grasp at boundless intimacy, it will flow through your fingers like water. To try and push boundless intimacy away is like trying to push away the air that surrounds you. Boundless intimacy is far beyond your neediness to have it or your fears and resistances to experiencing it. Boundless intimacy is deep within you and infinitely around you. The whole universe is in boundless intimacy before you think about I, me, and mine.”

About the Author 

Dr. Bonnici is a 75-Year-Old Master Zen Teacher, Trainer, and Counselor with a Doctorate in Humanistic Depth Psychology. He has taught students in preschool, grammar school, high school, and at the college and university level. For the last 40 years, he has mentored, trained, and counseled people from all walks-of-life to daily embody Zen meditation for healthy living, loving, working, playing, and being. 

Dr. Bonnici has been married for 54 years, has two grown sons, a daughter-in-heart, and four grandchildren. He currently lives on the Big Island of Hawaii with his whole family. There, he continues to teach, train, and mentor locally, write and publish internationally, and offers video counseling and consultation globally. You can visit his educational websites at Zendoctor.Com and ZenIntimacy.Com.


Barnes And Noble:


“In these times of increasing violence and confusion your teachings open a window of hope for people.”  (Marcos Arana, San Cristobal, Chiapas Mexico)

“As a Cognitive Behavioral Psychologist with a long background in spirituality it is refreshing to find a valuable resource… ways that others can use meditation as therapy and how they utilize the Mind, Body, Spirit connection. Thank you.” (Peter Smith Wyoming, NSW Australia)
“Your teachings are a tremendous tribute to humanity.” (Srinivas Palakkad, Kerala, India) 

“Thank you Dr. Bonnici for showing us how to deepen our connection within ourselves and with each other.” (Dr. Rae Stone, D.V.M. Co-Owner of Dolphin Quest / Quest Global Management CA)

“I had a lot of difficulties in focus and concentration until I practiced Zen meditation with the help of your deep psychological understanding and awareness. Keep up the good work of generosity and the sharing of yourself so faithfully and endlessly.”  (Herman Boyek, Papua New Guinea)

Thursday, May 9, 2019

Book Review: Mother's Child by Michael Conant

Mother's Child
By Michael Conant
Genre: Women's Literature

About the Book

Told in the voice of June, the story's protagonist, Mother's Child is a "slice of life" as it unfolds during a short period in a lifetime; strung together by one intensely charged event after another. It is the humor of life, marriage, and motherhood surrounded by the challenges of fighting the onslaught of an unknown disease, broken societal systems, and the suffering of broken hearts. It is the story of the average woman, finding her extraordinary voice, and having the courage to be heard

In just over two months, June Gallagher's life has turned upside down; it will take a lifetime to resemble "normal" again. Her son's life is on the line--she is determined to save him. 

My Review (it contains spoilers)

Mother's Child is an intense read and one worth spending time with. The plot revolves around a boy named Ernie who has been consistently sick since birth. The author dives deep into each character in Ernie's family, so readers feel as though they know this family well. The twist is when Ernie goes to the hospital, and the family is forbidden to take him home. The suspense is turned up and the story reaches a nail-biting stage as this family fights to get their son back. I would rate this book 4 stars. 

About the Author

Michael Conant is the publisher and founder of Incorgnito Publishing Press.

Before entering the world of book publishing, Michael spent over twenty years in b2b publishing. He served as a circulation, sales, and marketing executive, managing products across several industries, with a concentration in financial publications.

Prior to his foray into publishing, Michael pursued his love of theater as an actor, singer, director, and producer at regional theaters, dinner theaters, and at several Off-Off Broadway theaters. Michael introduced New York audiences to the American premier of Hal Shaper’s musical adaptation of Jane Eyre, which featured Michael as Rochester along with a very young Alyssa Milano as his ward, Adelle. 

Shortly after moving to Pasadena, CA, Mr. Conant was introduced to Cure Mito, an organization of “Mito Moms” dedicated to funding Mitochondrial Disease research in support of Dr. Richard Boles at Los Angeles Children's Hospital. Michael helped the group secure non-profit status and was elected as the organization’s first president.

In between his publishing duties and new writing efforts, Michael plays a lot of tennis with his South Pasadena, Arroyo Secco teammates. He also spends free time visiting with family and getting "puppy" kisses from his niece's lovable, crazy Bernedoodle, Bentley. (b3ntley_zefluff on Instagram)
Mr. Conant is also the co-author of David Margrave: The plumber who outwitted the IRS. He may be contacted at

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Book Blitz: Justice Gone by N. Lombardi Jr {GIVEAWAY}

Justice Gone
By N. Lombardi Jr
Genre: Legal Thriller

Justice Gone, a mystery/legal thriller which publishes February 22, 2019, touches upon many topical, controversial issues in today's society as well as being a thrilling and engaging read. The story encapsulates current social issues: police brutality, homelessness, the plight of returning war veterans, the frenzy of the press, and the mechanics of the US judicial system.

"When a homeless war veteran is beaten to death by the police, stormy protests ensue, engulfing a small New Jersey town. Soon after, three cops are gunned down.

 A multi-state manhunt is underway for a cop killer on the loose. And Dr. Tessa Thorpe, a veteran's counselor, is caught up in the chase.

Donald Darfield, an African-American Iraqi war vet, war-time buddy of the beaten man, and one of Tessa's patients, is holed up in a mountain cabin. Tessa, acting on instinct, sets off to find him, but the swarm of law enforcement officers gets there first, leading to Darfield's dramatic capture.

Now, the only people separating him from the lethal needle of state justice are Tessa and ageing blind lawyer, Nathaniel Bodine. Can they untangle the web tightening around Darfield in time, when the press and the justice system are baying for revenge?”

Justice Gone is the first in a series of psychological thrillers involving Dr. Tessa Thorpe.


Author N. Lombardi Jr is giving away 20 signed copies of Justice Gone. Enter below!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author 

Lombardi Jr, the N for Nicholas, has spent over half his life in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East, working as a groundwater geologist. Nick can speak five languages: Swahili, Thai, Lao, Chinese, and Khmer (Cambodian).

In 1997, while visiting Lao People's Democratic Republic, he witnessed the remnants of a secret war that had been waged for nine years, among which were children wounded from leftover cluster bombs. Driven by what he saw, he worked on The Plain of Jars for the next eight years.
Nick maintains a website with content that spans most aspects of the novel: The Secret War, Laotian culture, Buddhism etc.

His second novel, Journey Towards a Falling Sun, is set in the wild frontier of northern Kenya.

His latest novel, Justice Gone was inspired by the fatal beating of a homeless man by police.
Nick now lives in Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Visit his Goodreads page: 


Barnes & Noble




Chapter 1

Bruntfield, New Jersey, just another banal town in a part of the country that nobody thinks about, was about to become famous; or rather, more aptly put, infamous. People sauntered past lackluster shops unaware that in a few days, the lackadaisical streets would bear the rabid frustrations that divided the nation; a pus-like bitterness that was held in check by the demands of everyday survival and the distractions offered by obsessive consumerism and brazen media.
Some would inevitably blame the cascade of events on the weather, since the origins could be found on a hot summer day in 2006. Sure, just about all summer days are hot, but this one was close to the record, and humid to boot. By the end of July, the Northeast coast was suffering under a sweltering heat wave. Despite the humidity, no one could remember the last time it had rained. A hundred-year drought was predicted, theyd said.
Bruntfield, among the many places under this curse, had its water supply so severely depressed that the city authorities were forced to impose water rationing. As if that wasn’t enough, the excessive load on air conditioners led to incessant brownouts. With the weather nothing less than insufferable, suffocating, oppressive, even provoking, tempers flared along with the temperature. But the local situation, as bad as it was, was about to get worse.
In the heart of this small town, just a block up from the bus depot, sat Sliders, a rather successful drinking establishment catering to young adults, and noted for its ecstasy-fueled rave parties. At four in the afternoon, the owner, Joe Poppet, a burly man with a thick red beard and a well-developed beer belly, was staring out the large glass facade of his bar.
“Screw this heat, man.”
Joe was sweating because he didn’t want to turn on the air-conditioning; as a rule, he didn’t put it on until a half hour before opening. He possessed a rather cynical personality, considering himself continually persecuted by life’s little aggravations. Now it was the heat ramping up his electricity bill; soon it would be the freezing temperatures inflating his heating bill…always something. His worries constantly exceeded his hopes. He was sort of a “glass-half-empty man.
Rudy Glum, the shaven-headed bartender, was an easygoing optimist, a “glass-half-full kind of guy. He was whistling as he washed the glasses in the sink behind the bar. Tell me about it,” he chuckled. I hear ya, buddy.”
But Rudy’s sanguinity did not rub off on Joe. “There’s that guy again.”
“What guy?”
“That fucking guy we saw yesterday.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s probably from the bus depot. Lotta homeless hang out there.”
Joe continued to stare out the glass facade, feeling helpless. “For Chrissakes, why can’t the city do something and get rid of those bastards. Theyre a fucking eyesore…it’s bad for business. Probably got diseases too.”
Rudy finished drying the glass in his hand and hung it up on the beer mug rack. Yeah, it’s a goddamn shame, he said noncommittally, trying to get these glasses done before the evening crowd surged in.
“He doesn’t have a shirt on.”
Yeah, well it’s hot, ain’t it? Wish I could take mine off."
"And were opening in an hour. Ladies Night tonight.”
Rudy said nothing while reaching for another glass from the sink behind the bar.
“Call the cops.”
The bartender froze with the glass still in his hand. And tell them what?”
I don’t know, tell ‘em there’s someone suspicious hangin out on the corner…trying to break into cars or something. That way theyll come fast.”
Reluctantly, Rudy put down his dishrag, picked up the phone, and dialed 911, not feeling good about it at all.