#BookPromo…Shattered Souls…#BookBoost #Military #Romance #Giveaway @SDSXXTours @alisonmelloauth

Shattered Souls
To Love and Serve Book 1
By Alison Mello
Genre: Military Romance

I left home a proud, strong woman, determined and eager to support my country. But I came back a completely different person.

I’m wounded, scarred, and nothing more than an empty shell. I’ve lost my ability to open up to those closest to me. Why? Because no one understands. No one knows the hell I’ve been through.

Every time I close my eyes the nightmares are there, waiting, lurking in the shadows, ready to torment me further. My only escape is the sting of alcohol, the burn that numbs my pain. Everyone sees it as a weakness, calls it a coping mechanism. I call it survival.

I’m a lost cause…until I meet him—a Boston cop with demons of his own, who knows what it’s like to be haunted by his past. He understands my pain, knows all about the nightmares, and makes me feel less…alone.

But we are both broken, tainted by our pasts. How can we heal each other when we’re both shattered souls?

Alison has been writing for over a year now. Her debut book Finding Love (October 2015) was published by Siren Publishing. Her following books Needing Your Love (November 2015), Found My Love (December 2015), and Fighting for Love (January 2016) were also published with Siren to finish the Learning to Love series.

Her desire to see her books on shelves led to her next work Chasing Dreams (April 2015) She submitted it for publication with Limitless Publishing and was thrilled that it was quickly accepted. Excited to reach that goal, she moved on to the next series she had in mind and wrote Saved By a Soldier (June 2016), My Broken Soldier (July 2016), Forever My Soldier (August 2016), and A Soldier for Bella (September 2016).

Alison enjoyed reading as a child and found her passion for it again in 2011 when E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey was released. Her love of reading was re-ignited and she continued reading other books in the same genre. In the summer of 2015, she decided to give writing a try and two weeks later Finding Love was born. As soon as she finished the first book, she began writing the second book in the series. Her third book was finished by the time Finding Love had been accepted for publication. Alison discovered she has a passion for writing and has spent the last year meeting new readers and sharing the love she has for writing.

Married to her own real life hero, Alison lives with her amazing family in Massachusetts where she was born and raised. She loves having her own personal inspiration right at home and when she’s not writing she enjoys playing soccer, basketball, and football with her son.

Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive guest posts and a giveaway!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

 Brought to You By:

#BookBlitz…Conflux…#Bookboost #Military #Thriller @RABTBookTours @authorWbrazzel


Action, Military Thriller, Thriller
Date Published:  January 2018
Publisher: Balboa Press
 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

A new threat to the United States has emerged within its own borders. Deutsche Christen, a powerful paramilitary organization, led by a ruthless ex-Special Forces Officer, Carl Dietrich, is threatening to overthrow the U.S. government and assume absolute power over the country.

 Bolstered by the overwhelming support provided by two foreign governments, Dietrich believes his forces to be invincible, and his future rise to power inevitable.

Hoping to garner additional members for his organization, he demands an interview with Sean Carrol, an ex-Special Forces officer and an investigative reporter for the New York International News. Dietrich orders that their meeting be held at one of the Deutsche Christen paramilitary camps. To assure Seans cooperation, he kidnaps his niece and nephew.

Understanding Dietrichs rationale for the meeting and further realizing that his niece and nephew arent going to be released, Sean develops a plan to rescue the children. Desperate, he along with Colonel Gannon, his ex-commander, reorganize his old Special Forces team and create a rescue mission.

While tensions rise worldwide and threats of war loom, panic takes center stage, as the prospect for cataclysmic destruction promises to annihilate civilization as we know it.

Praise for Conflux: Threat from the Troika:

“Written in the style of Patricia Cromwell, the author has you in the middle of the story from the first few pages. Bound to be a favorite on the beach this summer with it’s fast page turning tempo.” – John Lunde (Reader)

“…Conflux explores how panic and hatred, power and violence can cause chaos and pain, with real emotional stakes and a spark of hope for a better tomorrow. Brazzel’s skill and style makes for an enjoyable read for a wide audience of readers who enjoy living vicariously through fictional characters exhibiting strength, valor and the commitment to children’s safety.” – Pacific Book Review

About the Author

William Brazzel has been a property and casualty insurance agent for over thirty years. Dreaming of writing a novel has been a long term goal in his life. Finally, after many years of raising a family and nurturing his career, he has written his second novel “Conflux Threat from the Troika.” Unique and exciting, this novel projects a contemporary view of current day world threats that haunt and endanger all of us. With the creation of fictional characters and original scenes, he has fashioned a truly engaging and enjoyable but thought provoking storyline. Currently, he is busy working on his next project and hopes to complete it within the next year and a half.

Contact Links

Purchase Links

In Partnership With:

RABT Book Tours & PR

#BookBlitz…Naval Maneuvers…#BookBoost #Military #Romance #EroticRomance @DeeSKnight

Military Erotic Romance—Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. Knight (@DeeSKnight) #military #romance #eroticromance


Men and women of the armed forces experience desire and love pretty much like everyone else. Except, well, there is that uniform. And the hard-to-resist attraction of “duty, honor, service” as a man might apply them to a woman’s pleasure. All things considered, romance among the military is a pretty sexy, compelling force for which you’d better be armed, whether weighing anchor and moving forward into desire, dropping anchor and staying put for passion, or setting a course for renewed love with anchor home.

Weighing Anchor (allowing a ship to move forward by retrieving the anchor): A professional woman sworn to avoiding all things military finds herself in love with a lieutenant commander in the Navy. Love won’t conquer all if she allows her childhood memories to eclipse future happiness.

Dropping Anchor (securing movement by dropping the anchor): Two people find (surprisingly) that they are both in the Navy and love their chosen professions—until one turns out to be an officer but not a gentleman and the other is a gentleman but not an officer.

Anchor Home (safe, smooth sailing): When two former lovers find each other after more than a decade, will a long-hidden secret threaten the course of a rekindled romance or be the cause of it?

Buy Links (Get $2 off until March 9)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2sM5PZo

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2omZcaA

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/naval-maneuvers-dee-s-knight/1127958432?ean=2940158612114

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/792622

Black Velvet Seductions: http://blackvelvetseductions.com/gs_bookshowcase/4779/

“And what is your name, pretty?” Mel Crandall addressed the dinosaur bones in an undertone, bending nearly to face level. The skeleton displayed an open mouth and rows of fierce, sharp teeth.

“Roger,” a man standing next to her said in a low voice. Startled, she looked up. Up being the operative word. She stood a decent five feet ten inches, and he beat her by a good half foot. She studied him. He ignored her.

The guy had a solid profile, strong chin, chiseled cheekbones, and a straight back with muscular shoulders. Short brown hair. He wore glasses and stared straight ahead, but glasses couldn’t disguise the laugh lines that radiated from the corners of his eyes. His posture was near perfect and he was not overweight, as evidenced by the trim fit of his jeans and red polo shirt that clung enough to give evidence of a low body/mass index number.

As a doctor, she immediately noticed body characteristics before actual looks. But with this guy, examination in lieu of admiration was hard. Men were often put off by the fact that she paid attention to whether they looked sallow or flushed, or if their hands were cold or warm before she “saw” them. She noticed if a man’s eyes were dilated or glittered with fever before she registered eye color. Dates started with mini examinations before she relaxed enough to enjoy personalities, but that’s just the way she was. Men had to take it or leave it. Sadly, most left it. Which was why she talked to dinosaurs at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History all on her own.

Mel moved on to the next exhibit, a shorter built specimen but still tall and with a nasty spiked tail. “I wonder what you looked like,” she murmured. “What color were you, what did you eat, and what’s your name?” She bent to read the exhibit information.

“Gray. Grass.” That same guy had followed her. Rather than having a strong profile, she was beginning to think he was a weirdo. “Annnd, roger.”

Quickly, Mel moved to the next exhibit. “And you are–”


He stood beside her again! Mel started to look for a museum guard but saw none. Great. Planting her hands on her hips, she turned to him. “Stop following me,” she said loudly enough that people in the general area turned to see what was happening.

The guy said, “Hold it.”

Hold it? Hold it, as in “Wait a minute, little lady?” She opened her mouth to lay into him when he turned and removed his glasses, showing her the richest, most chocolatey brown eyes she’d ever seen. The words stuck in her mouth.

“I’m sorry, what?”

In a lower voice she said, “You’re following me from exhibit to exhibit and talking to me. I want you to stop.”

“I didn’t realize…” He wiggled the glasses at her. “I’m working here and I’m afraid I didn’t notice you.”

Well. What was worse, that he was a pervert following her place to place, or that he wasn’t a perv and hadn’t even noticed her?

His brow furrowed while he studied her. “Yes. Yes.” Then he shook his head. “Roger.”

Again with that Roger.

“Gotta go. Later.” Then he smiled at her. “Just a minute, okay?” He folded the glasses and put them first in a protective case. Squatting, he placed a briefcase on the floor and opened it. He stored the glass case inside a pocket. Then he removed something from his right ear—an earbud?—protected it and also put it in the case.

Mel watched all of this with curiosity. He expected her to wait for him? What arrogance. And yet, wait she did. When he stood, holding the case in his left hand and smiled once more, her heart stuttered. The guy was drop dead gorgeous—at least to her understanding of the word. Normally, she appreciated the male form, mostly from a medical viewpoint. This man she enjoyed with pure pleasure.

And Good God. He hadn’t been talking to her, he’d been talking to whoever was on the other end of that earbud. Embarrassment flooded her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you were…” She slid her hand between the two of them and then to the exhibits.

“No,” he said. “I apologize. I shouldn’t be testing this stuff around people. The last time I did it a kid thought I was calling him Roger.” His voice had a soft drawl to it. Western Virginia or North Carolina, maybe? Somewhere in the mountains. It felt like a cool stream as it ran over a body hot and tired from hiking: refreshing and invigorating, at the same time soothing and relaxing. She wanted him to talk more.

Stop that! She laughed. “I thought you were naming each dinosaur.” He smiled and dimples indented his cheeks. His eyes crinkled and Mel’s breath caught. This guy should come with a warning label. Approach with caution. Could bring on lustful intentions and ultimately, broken hearts. Take only in small doses and in public places.

He held out his hand. “David Stimson.”

She took it gingerly, half expecting lightning to bolt between them. Nope. Nothing. So much for romance novels. He had a nice hand, large and warm with healthy pink nails, and she grasped it firmly. “Melissa Crandall.”

“Nice to meet you. Do you mind if I wander along with you?” Grasping the briefcase with his left hand, he deftly, he moved to the left of her.

“No, please. It’s a free country.” She walked to the next dinosaur re-creation. “And this one is…” She half waited for his pronouncement.

“Not Roger,” he said, stopping her heart with that killer smile again. He leaned over to read the information. “Torosaurus latus. It says here that these bones were dug up in North Dakota, but that the Torosaurus roamed from Canada to Texas, and that he had the biggest head of any land mammal.”

“Well, I guess that’s something to be proud of,” Mel responded. David laughed and she found herself smiling back. When she moved to the next exhibit, he strolled along with her, hands behind his back.

He pointed to the next specimen. “Poor guy. Starved to death.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you know?”

“Can’t you tell? He’s all bones.”


Author Bio:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex. Writing was so much fun Dee decided to keep at it. That’s how she spends her days. Her nights? Well, she’s lucky that her dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy, and nights are their secret. Dee loves writing erotic romance and sharing her stories with you. She hopes you enjoy!

Website: https://nomadauthors.com/deesknight/index.html

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#DeeSKnight

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


Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

#Bookblitz…Out of Time…#BookBoost #Contemporary #Military #Romance @klein_klein344 @bookunleashed

Out of Time Tour Graphic
Melissa Klein
Series: Out of Uniform Book 3
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Military Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: August 16, 2017
Out of Time
When paparazzi, obligations, and pride tear Bash and Grace apart. Will the stubborn scriptwriter come to his senses in time, or will movie star, Grace marry the wrong man?
Before filming starts on her next movie, America’s sweetheart, Grace Carradine, wants a girls’ night out. As she dons a disguise to evade the paparazzi, her brown hair isn’t the only deception, so is her upcoming marriage to her costar. Naval-pilot-turned-author, Sebastian “Bash” Baron finds his friends are pairing up and starting families. Given his history, he knows that life isn’t for him—even if the period romance he wrote is being made into a movie. Those stories only exist in fiction—or other people’s lives.
The two begin a secret romance, meant to last only as long as the starlet is on location in Bash’s hometown. When the paparazzi, obligations, and pride tear them apart, will Bash come to his senses in time, or will Grace marry the wrong man?
Amazingly sweet!
I HIGHLY recommend this series. You will be hooked into the story like I was.
– United Indie Book Blog, Goodreads Reviewer

Purchase Links

Available now for $4.99 only.
Out of Time Teaser

Book Tour Schedule

Join the ongoing book tour from August 28 – September 9.
Be sure to drop by on each tour stop for exclusive excerpts, book reviews, interviews, and more. To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Out of Time Book Page at Book Unleashed.

Other Books by Melissa Klein

Be sure to also check out the first 2 books in the Out of Uniform series:
Out of Uniform but not out of trouble. When life-defining careers come to an end, these naval aviators find reentry into civilian life as difficult to navigate as the Atlantic in a hurricane. As Titan, Mad Dog, Tank, and Bash rise to the challenges life throws at them, they find falling in love to be the biggest risk of their lives. Can they adapt and overcome, or will love and ambition mix like wind shear and an ultralight?

Out of Bounds
Amazon.com: $4.99



Out of Sight
Amazon.com: $4.99



Out of Time Giveaway Graphic
Contest runs from August 16 – September 9, 2017.

About Melissa Klein

Melissa Klein

Melissa Klein writes contemporary romance about everyday heroes fighting extraordinary battles. Whether facing the demands of caring for a child with special needs or the struggles of a soldier returning home, her characters take on the challenges life throws at them with perseverance, courage, and humor.
Melissa sets her stories below the Mason-Dixon Line where she’s lived all but an unfortunate six months of her life.
While she won Georgia Romance Writers Unpublished Maggie award in 2013 and Rose City Romance Writers Golden Rose award in 2012, she still hopes to win the lottery. If she does, she’ll buy a huge farm in north Georgia and convince her children to live next door. Until that time, she lives in Atlanta with her husband, who puts up with frozen dinners with the words are flowing. You can find Melissa at http://www.MelissaKleinRomance.com

Check out Melissa’s writings at

Connect with Melissa Klein on social media:

In partnership with

Book Unleashed Logo

#Purpleheart #Day #Blitz…Love Our Heroes…#Military #Boxset #Giveaway @leslienorthbook @XpressoTours

Make sure not to miss Leslie North’s Massive Military Romance Sale on August 7th only!

All of her Military Romance boxsets will be $0.99 (a 70%+ Discount)!

PLUS: 100% of revenue will go to the Wounded Warriors Project.

All boxed set details and links can be found here!


Author Bio:

Leslie North is the pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women’s contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.

The truth of the matter is she loves her fictional persona, Leslie North, more than her normal, day-to-day persona! Her bestselling books focus on strong characters and particularly women who aren’t afraid to challenge an alpha male. Inspired after years of travel, her stories are set all over the world, from the tough streets of Russia to the beautiful beaches of the middle east.

Leslie fell in love with romance when she first picked up a scrappy, dog-eared romance book from her local library. She began writing soon after and the rest, as they say, was history. She now lives in a cozy cottage on the British coast and enjoys taking long walks with her two Dalmatians, George and Fergie.

She LOVES reader feedback, and if you have any comments, don’t hesitate to contact her via e-mail: leslie@leslienorthbooks.com.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Brought to You By:


#Book #Promo…10 Weeks at Chanute…#BookBoost #Military @lovingthebook


In 1992 an aimless young man decided to serve his country and joined the Air National Guard. To complete his training, he was sent to venerable Chanute Air Force Base in the flats of Illinois to learn how to turn wrenches on jet engines. It was a place brimming with history, a place he soon grew to love.


Soon thereafter, Chanute closed its doors forever, becoming a modern ruin in the years that followed, taking the young man’s heart with it.


This humorous, witty and occasionally ribald memoir details the experience of one of the last Airmen to pass through the hallowed gates of Chanute Air Force Base, and how the experience haunts him to this very day.

Chapter: The Razor Incident (WARNING–Harsh Language Ahead)

After getting some initial feedback for my little military epic, 10 Weeks at Chanute, it appears people really want to know more about the crazy ‘razor incident’ I briefly mention in Chapter 4 that happened to me at Basic Training—the part where I had to write sentences discussing my incompetence as an Airman, or else. That was a pretty big to-do, actually.

“What happened, what happened?” people ask.

I have, literally, tons of humorous anecdotes from my time in the service, and, for the sake of brevity and flow, I had to leave most of them out so that the story wouldn’t stall. Most of these assorted tales take a fair amount of time to set-up to properly describe, and I didn’t want to bog down the flow of the narrative in pointless minutia, so I left them out which is sad because most of these little side stories are truly funny. They’re tales good for an old-fashioned Bull Session at the bars, at cocktail parties or church socials. Armed with stories like these you’re sure to be a big hit.

But, the Razor Incident seems to have piqued a good measure of interest, so I decided to throw it in here at the back of the book as sort of an ‘optional’ bit of reading.

Ok, you want to know, so I’ll tell you.

The Razor Incident…

Aside from the deadly Chow Hall, a very perilous task at Basic Training is having to perform Dorm Guard duty. Most everybody has to do it at some point during the tour, and you just have to pray that it doesn’t get you in mounds of trouble—because it certainly can.

Essentially, the Dorm Guard does just that—guards the door to the dormitory. For three hours you had to stand there in a little cubbyhole by the door wearing your hat and a web belt, and monitor all those wishing to enter the dorm and all those wishing to exit the dorm. The Dorm Guard was the only person allowed to touch the handle to the door—all others were forbidden to touch it. If somebody outside pounded on the door, you had to peer through the narrow window, see who it was, and check a sheet with a list of names to see if that person was authorized to enter or not. If they were on the list, then you could open the door. If it was a female, you had to shout “LADY ENTERING THE DORM!”

If the person was not on the list, then you were not supposed to let them in, no matter who it was.

Being the Dorm Guard was mighty dangerous, as the MTI’s loved to screw with them. They would intentionally send TI’s not on the authorized list to the door to see if they could prod the poor, stressed-out Dorm Guard into letting them in. They would pound on the door, stand there, scream at the Dorm Guard, threaten them, the whole nine yards, hoping to stress them into opening the door.

And, if the Dorm Guard yielded to the pressure, that was it—they would get recycled. Washed back. Almost immediately.

Yeah, it sucked.

Obviously, being the Dorm Guard was something you didn’t want to do. A brother Airmen would get assigned the duty of scheduling the Dorm Guard rotations, and therefore, that was a guy you wanted to be friends with so you could get the more plum Dorm Guard assignments, like, say, in the middle of the night when the TI’s were less-likely to come to the door. But, no matter what time of day or night, trouble could always find you if you were stuck standing there by the cubby hole.

So, it was 9:00pm, time for lights out at glorious Lackland Air Force Base. 9:00pm sounds pretty early in the evening, and it is, but, after a long day of marching and getting yelled at, you were usually pretty tired. With no napping allowed during the day, even a night owl like me was always ready hit the sack at 9:00pm.

But, the unthinkable had happened and I was on the rotation to be Dorm Guard, a shift lasting three hours—which always seemed like an eternity. So, instead of getting into my skivvies for sleep, I had to put on my hat, grab a flashlight and my BMTS Training Manual and take over for the previous guy. Me and the Dorm Guard I was relieving would then have to walk the bays, checking for any items that would be potentially unsafe or be considered CONTRABAND.

Contraband was easy to classify: Contraband was:






In walking the dorm, we didn’t find any contraband, obviously; just a dorm full of guys getting ready for bed. We had a Sister Flight in the dorm behind ours and they liked to pass us notes under the common door in the day room. Some of the guys were flopped on their racks, all grins, busy penning or reading love letters to their girlfriends on the other side—girls they’d never actually seen, other than as passing shadows drifting through the bottom of the door and as alluring half-heard giggles. We made the would-be Casanovas wrap it up and hit the sack, which they did.

As we finished the walk through, I spied an innocuous electric razor plugged into a wall outlet, a red light blinking as it charged.

An electric razor plugged into the wall? Big deal, right?


Everything’s big deal at Basic.

We weren’t allowed to have facial hair at all at Basic, not even the Five-O-Clock shadow. You had to be totally clean-shaven at all times.

“Garcia, you fuckin’ butcher, what is that shit all over your face?” the TI’s would ask all the time.

So, we were shaving constantly, every spare moment we had, mostly with cheap disposable razors bought a hard march away at the BX. Aside from shining our boots, shaving our faces took up most of our time. As such, our faces were scraped raw, so much so many of us were afflicted with Pseudofolliculitis Barbae, the dreaded ‘shaving disease’, our faces, usually around the chin area, covered with tiny pimple-like bumps that hurt like living hell. Through the scuttlebutt, I had heard one Airman in our dorm had brought an electric razor with him to Basic, which wasn’t against regulations, but was a tangible focus for the TI’s to hate on should they see it. They wanted us disfiguring our faces with the cheap disposable stuff.

And there it was, the razor happily blinking on the wall, plugged in, charging up. I figured the razor probably shouldn’t be there, but didn’t say anything—I figured the owner would hide it in his locker before lights out anyway.

I took the web belt, put my hat on and assumed the position in the cubby hole, seeing the ominous sign hung over it reading in lurid red letters: STAY ALERT! I clearly remember hallucinating one dark night, the letters on the sign transforming before my eyes to read: STAY THE FUCK ALERT!!

Everything went dark in the bays and I was alone there at the door. I opened my training manual to read, but, before long, the dreaded Lackland Lounge kicked off, and it soon got too loud—and too creepy—to read. The Lackland Lounge was what we called the ghost-like din of Airmen talking in their sleep. People under stress tend to talk a lot in their sleep, and that was proved almost every bloody night at Basic. It often got really, really noisy, and went on in an odd, graveyard symmetry where the seemingly choreographed cacophony of grunts, moans, shouts, chants, anguished cries, half-uttered mumbles, and other demonic noises made lights out a rather raucous and panic-filled situation.

And the Lounge wasn’t all I had to endure. Outside, I could hear a commotion in the dorm across the hallway. My heart sunk. I knew a TI was in there lighting those unfortunate bastards up, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before the TI finished with them and migrated across the hall to our dorm to have at us. I was in for a hard time. I got my pad of paper and pencil ready to take down whatever the TI commanded.

It was inevitable.

Sure enough, a few minutes later came a soul-shattering BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! from our door. The TI was there, ready to mess with us hard. I could see the shadow of his head through the blinds.

I pulled the blind aside—it was Staff Sergeant Eagan, our junior TI. Sergeant Eagan was a decent guy from Mississippi, but he could raise his fair share of Hell when he wanted to, and right now he wanted to.

He didn’t look happy.

I followed procedures. I put my finger on the window over his nose, then I put my other finger over his name on the Authorized Personnel sheet. I then opened the door and Sergeant Eagan thundered in.

He made a beeline into the bays. Seconds later I heard the usual CLUNK! of beds being lifted and dropped hard to the floor—the dreaded ‘Lackland Wake Up Call’. Eagan was rousting guys out of their racks at a furious pace.

And then…


Oh crap, I was in for it now. “Proceeding!” I replied. I grabbed my pad and paper and scurried into the bay.

Sergeant Eagan was standing there, his flashlight beam poised at the wall.

“What the fuck is that, Dorm Guard?”

Centered in his flashlight was the electric razor, still plugged into the wall, still blinking merrily. It had taken him all of three minutes to find it.

“Sir, Airman Garcia reports as ordered! Sir, it’s an electric razor, sir!” I replied.

“I can see that, godammit!” He then proceeded to berate me about the dangers of electrical devices left plugged into wall outlets. “There could be a fuckin’ fire. Everybody could die, you stupid, trainee sumbitch!”

I foolishly then replied that the razor was fully UL rated, lab-tested, customer approved, and would not create a fire situation due to its design. Sergeant Eagan wasn’t impressed. He then proceeded to uncover this whole ‘razor conspiracy’ and punish all players involved—me included. He soon discovered that the offending razor was owned by Airman DePierre, a wise apple from North Carolina, a guy who liked to crack jokes and pranks but always got caught and dogged up for them. Sergeant Eagan had DePierre up against the wall like a felon.

Sergeant Eagan then wanted to know who the previous Dorm Guard was so he could light him up too.

It was Airman Mallory, a little guy from New Mexico who, for whatever reason, the TI’s couldn’t stand. I knew when Mallory got involved, I was saved.

Mallory popped out of his bunk without wearing shoes, which was against regulations—you always had to have something on your feet when walking around. Sergeant Eagan was enraged and tried to stomp on his feet. Mallory had to dive out the way and take refuge in his rack to avoid getting stomped on.

Sergeant Eagan turned to me, shining his flashlight in my face. “Get your ass back to your station. I’ll deal with you later, you dumb fuck!”

Thankfully, I did an about face and returned to my Dorm Guard cubbyhole.

Standing there by the door, I listened to Sergeant Eagan holding court in the bays, yelling at the top of his lungs, picking up bunks and dropping them, the beam of his flashlight waving around in the dark like a Sith light saber cutting off Jedi heads.

Two guys appeared in the corridor. It was DePierre and Mallory, followed by Sergeant Eagan. He placed the offending electric razor down in the center of the corridor. “Now, I want you two dumb asses to guard this fucking razor at the position of attention all fucking night long. This is Mission A #1 critical, got it?”

“Sir yes sir!” they replied.

“Fuckin’ A! You better give thanks your fellow trainees aren’t a pack of thieves! Do you two sumbitches understand me?

“Sir yes sir!”

He pointed at me. “See that trainee over there? He might not be too bright, and he might not give a Fuck! about your personal safety, but at least he’s no thief.”

“Sir yes sir!”

There was a pensive silence, then, Sergeant Eagan turned to deal with me.

He marched up.

“Ok, Mr. Not-So-Smart-Airman. I want you to write 100 times: ‘I swear I will not allow my incompetence as an Airman to endanger the lives of my fellow trainees ever again.’ You will have these sentences accomplished by sun up, or your insufficient ass is going backwards, do you understand me, sir?”

“Sir yes sir!”

With that, he turned and went back into the bays to raise more Hell. I got out a fresh sheet of paper and started writing. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see DePierre and Mallory standing in their underwear at the position of attention with the razor on the floor between them like a giant, contoured dog turd.

A couple of guys, dragging blankets and pillows, emerged from the bay and marched into the latrine; from my position I couldn’t tell who they were. Sergeant Eagan followed them. “You two Porky Pigs with the shitty footlockers and skid-marked drawers can get your shut-eye in the fuckin’ shitter from now on, do you two understand me? Get your disgusting asses in there!”

They vanished into the latrine. Then Eagan turned to DePierre and Mallory. “Razor still there, you piss-poor Airmen?”

“Sir yes sir!”

“Razor not going anywhere, is it, you two IQ-Negative trainees?”

“Sir no sir!”


He then handed the both of them a disposable razor and made them start dry shaving. “Here. Shave. Keep shaving. Don’t stop!” DePierre and Mallory started shaving, I could see them both moving their hands about their faces in back and forth motions as if they were fanning themselves.

Then, he came at me again. I just stood there writing my sentences. He got so close, his nose was pressed up against my ear, snorting searing hot dragon breath into the

side of my face with serial killer rapidity. I roasted in his hot nose breath.

I knew the best thing to do in a situation like this would be to maintain my military bearing and ignore the Sergeant. I just kept on writing, staring at my paper, saying nothing. If he audibly addressed me, then I would respond with the proper military greeting, but, until he did that, I would continue ignoring him.

It worked!! He eventually went away, leaving me to write sentences like a school boy wearing a DUNCE hat.

“Keep shaving, you fucks!” he yelled at DePierre and Mallory. He opened the door to the latrine. “You two Porky Pigs all tucked in?”

“Sir yes sir!” I heard in tandem from the latrine.

“Good! Nighty night!”

Soon, he allowed DePierre and Mallory to return to their bunks. He departed, and I finished my eventful Dorm Guard shift without further incident.

In the morning, as I dressed, I heard Sergeant Eagan cry out “GARCIA!” Sighing, I went to the office to find out what he wanted. There he was, morning fresh, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Airman, the penmanship in your sentences is completely unacceptable bullshit, do you understand me, sir? You will re-accomplish these sentences, only you will turn in 200 legible sentences instead of 100, right?”

“Sir yes sir!”


So, I redid my sentences, turned them back in, only this time with better penmanship. The incident was forgotten and I made it the rest of the way pretty much without a hitch. I still remember DePierre and Mallory standing there in their shorts, guarding the electric razor and dry-shaving their foolish faces, making swishing motions with their hands as they shaved.

Just goes to show you: Everything’s a big deal at Basic Training


Amazon ~ Amazon UK ~ 

Amazon Canada ~ Amazon Australia ~

Ren Garcia is a Science Fiction/Fantasy author and Texas native who grew up in western Ohio. He has been writing since before he could write, often scribbling alien lingo on any available wall or floor with assorted crayons. He attended The Ohio State University and majored in English Literature. Ren has been an avid lover of anything surreal since childhood, he also has a passion for caving, urban archeology and architecture. His highly imaginative “League of Elder” book series is published by Loconeal Publishing.

Connect with the Author here:

Official Facebook Event page:


Author Social Media Links:

My blog:  http://thetempleoftheexplodinghead.com/

My facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/The-League-of-Elder-by-Ren-Garcia-271190559585/?fref=ts

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Ren-Garcia/e/B00896NE6Y/ref

Book Buy Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/10-Weeks-Chanute-Discovery-Ruins-ebook/dp/B071FRXSVK

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/10-Weeks-Chanute-Discovery-Ruins-ebook/dp/B071FRXSVK

Amazon Canada: https://www.amazon.ca/10-Weeks-Chanute-Discovery-Ruins-ebook/dp/B071FRXSVK

Amazon Australia: https://www.amazon.com.au/10-Weeks-Chanute-Discovery-Ruins-ebook/dp/B071FRXSVK

Facebook ~ Website ~ Amazon ~

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Brought to You By:

#Book #Release…Out of Sight…#BookBoost #Contemporary #Military #Romance #Giveaway @klein_klein344 @HeaBookToursPR

From Award Winning Author
Melissa Klein
When tragedy upends her life, Mia Jones must fight to regain her lost memories and win the man she loves.
Out of Sight
Melissa Klein
Series: Out of Uniform Book 2
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Military Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Publication Date: July 5, 2017
After a brutal attack leaves Mia Jones with a traumatic brain injury, she learns the key to discovering her attacker’s identity lies within her damaged brain. As she battles to recover from her injuries, she finds it’s not her fiancé by her side but her foster brother, Hank.
When navy pilot, Hank Taggart ditches his plane in the sea, he thinks the worst has happened—until he returns home to learn Mia, the closest thing he’s ever had to family, is in ICU. While struggling to accept the end of a career that defines him and battling his own medical diagnosis, he must also suppress his newfound feelings for Mia.
With Hank rejecting her love at every turn and the bad guys upping the stakes, Mia wonders which fate is worse: falling into the hands of her enemy or losing the man she loves.

Purchase Links

Available now for $4.99 only. Grab your copy today.

Other Books by Melissa Klein

Coming soon! Check out Book 3 of the Out of Uniform series.
Out of Time
Series: Out of Uniform Book 3
Following an on-set romance, Bash Baron and Grace Carradine discover their growing love is impossible to walk away from when filming wraps. However, the paparazzi, obligations, and pride tear them apart. Will Bash come to his senses in time, or will Grace marry the wrong man?
Coming August 16, 2017. Pre-order now for $4.99 only.
Pre-order Link: Amazon


Out of Sight Giveaway Graphic
Contest runs from July 24 – Aug 5, 2017.

About Melissa Klein

Melissa Klein

Melissa Klein writes contemporary romance about everyday heroes fighting extraordinary battles. Whether facing the demands of caring for a child with special needs or the struggles of a soldier returning home, her characters take on the challenges life throws at them with perseverance, courage, and humor. Melissa won Georgia Romance Writers Unpublished Maggie award in 2013 and Rose City Romance Writers Golden Rose award in 2012. She lives in Atlanta with her family.
Connect with Melissa Klein on social media:

Book Tour Schedule

Out of Sight Tour Graphic
Follow the book tour from July 24 – Aug 5, 2017.
Discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and other extras on the tour.
To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Out of Sight Book Page at Book Unleashed.

In partnership with

Book Unleashed Logo

#Book #Promo…Logan’s Light…#BookBoost @FanPerks #IAN1 #Romantic #Military #Suspense


Welcome to Logan’s Light, book 6 in Heroes for Hire, reconnecting readers with the unforgettable men from SEALs of Honor in a new series of action-packed, page turning romantic suspense that fans have come to expect from USA TODAY Bestselling author Dale Mayer.

Logan heads to Boston on an intel mission. His investigation plunges him and his partner into the deep dark world of human trafficking. 

The last thing Alina remembers is having coffee at the cafe in the hospital where she works. She awakes tied up in a strange apartment. Her world as she knew it gone…possibly forever.

Now they’re on the run together. Time is against them. There’s a quota to be made, and the traffickers aren’t going to let Alina go if they can help it. 

Unfortunately, she’s not the only victim. The hunt is on…for the traffickers and their other victims…before it’s too late.


Dale Mayer is a USA Today bestselling author best known for her Psychic Visions and Family Blood Ties series. Her contemporary romances are raw and full of passion and emotion (Second Chances, SKIN), her thrillers will keep you guessing (By Death series), and her romantic comedies will keep you giggling (It’s a Dog’s Life and Charmin Marvin Romantic Comedy series). 

She honors the stories that come to her – and some of them are crazy and break all the rules and cross multiple genres! 

To go with her fiction, she also writes nonfiction in many different fields with books available on resume writing, companion gardening and the US mortgage system. She has recently published her Career Essentials Series. All her books are available in print and ebook format. 

To find out more about Dale and her books, visit her at http://www.dalemayer.com. Or connect with her online with Twitter at www.twitter.com/dalemayer and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dalemayer.author. If you like Dale Mayer’s books and are interested in joining her street team, sign up here – https://www.facebook.com/groups/402384989872660/  


Monday, June 12
Book featured at The Dark Phantom
Book featured at Mello and June
Tuesday, June 13
Book featured at The Literary Nook
Book featured at A Book Lover
Wednesday, June 14
Book reviewed at Voodoo Princess
Book featured at Write and Take Flight
Thursday, June 15
Book reviewed at Warrior Woman Winmill
Book featured at The Writer’s Life
Friday, June 16
Book featured at EskieMama Reads and Dragon Lady Reads
Book featured at A Title Wave

Brought to You By:

#Book #Blitz…Guy’s Odyssey…#BookBoost #Psychological #Military #Thriller

Psychological Military Thriller
Date Published:  June 23, 2017
 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png
It’s just another day in Iraq for Guy, a young American soldier. But when he suffers a head wound in a car bomb attack in Baghdad his real journey begins. 
As the blast sends him on a deadly odyssey through the very fabric of time, he finds the beautiful yet mysterious disappearing sand. But Guy quickly realizes things aren’t what they seem and he may be witnessing his own destruction. With the reality warp tearing him apart, he has only his fading mind and a mysterious journal to help him solve the puzzle before time runs out.
His desperate search for an answer leads him to a single moment where everything hangs in the balance. Does this mysterious journal hold the clues to his salvation, or is it the ramblings of a madman? Can he figure out the mystery and save himself, or is the end of his odyssey written before his journey even begins?

Chapter 2

The Beginning of the End

June 1, 2006

Baghdad, Iraq

I leave the Humvee running and step out into the hot street. The intense sun beats down on the back of my neck. Even with sunglasses on it seems obnoxiously bright. Fucking Iraq. Miserably hot, and here we are in the middle of the damn day, out in the worst of it.

 My M-16A2 rifle feels like an old, familiar lover in my hands. The strangest sense of déjà vu washes over me. “Weird,” I mumble to myself, prying my eyes off of my rifle.

I quickly scan the traffic circle, soaking in all of the details. There is no traffic coming through; there’s a Humvee at each intersection, blocking off everything. No way in, no way out.

 I glance up to Mike in the turret, manning the .50 caliber machine gun. I have known him for as long as I can remember. Mike was my next-door neighbor when we were kids. His mom used to babysit me while mine went to work, and she’d make us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and then send us right back out to play. She always kept strawberry jam on hand because she knew it was my favorite. Hell, she was practically a second mother to me.

He is my best friend. He is more than that— he is my brother.

Mike’s back is to me as he watches the Iraqis, making sure none of them try to get into our perimeter. A horn honks and a driver gestures impatiently at the intersection. Mike quickly swivels his machine gun toward the car, silencing both the horn and the driver. I smile. We survived basic training together, then jump school in the stifling Fort Benning heat. We somehow got lucky enough to be stationed together. A sympathetic first sergeant then assigned us to the same squad.

I wipe the sweat from my brow. It is instantly replaced as the hot sun beats down on me. One bead of sweat forms on the scar on my hairline and runs down my face, following my jawline down to my chin, where it hangs on stubbornly.

I reach up and wipe the sweat from the scar under my helmet, and shiver. My mind drifts for a split second to Mike. I close my eyes and swallow back the lump rising in my throat.

Another small shiver runs down my spine despite the heat. I have that feeling you get when you know someone is right behind you and then you turn around and no one is there. When I turn around, I see a car parked on the high overpass we usually cross.

My heart starts to beat a little faster and my palms start to sweat more than usual in this awful heat. “I don’t like that fucking car,” I say.

“What?” Mike yells over his shoulder without taking his eyes off of the cars impatiently waiting for us to allow them through.

“I said I don’t like that fucking car over there.” This time I point at it with my left hand and hold my rifle tightly in my right. “I mean, I have never seen a car parked on that bridge. We almost always cross that bridge. That would leave us nowhere to go but right next to it,” I yell with a frown. “Doesn’t that seem weird?”

“Yeah, it is weird,” Mike agrees with a shrug.

I glance up at Mike for a moment, just a split second and then back to the car.

“I’m telling you I have a really bad feeling—” The car explodes with a deafening roar, shattering the peaceful silence of the afternoon.

The blast lifts me off of my feet and throws me backward into the Humvee. My head slams hard into the door behind me, my helmet bouncing off with a thud. The world spins for a moment and goes dark.

About the Author

Seth Bleuer is an author and veteran who served combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. He currently lives near Seattle, Washington with his wife and kids, by way of the Midwest. When he’s not reading or writing he can be found playing in the mud at obstacle races with his wife, Amanda. To see what Seth is up to check out his very originally named website https://sethbleuer.wordpress.com/or find him on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/SethBleuerAuthor/

Contact Links



Purchase Links

 Brought to You By:

Reading Addiction Blog Tours

#Book #Promo…Remnants of Trust…#BookBoost #SciFi #Military


Inside the Book:

Title: Remnants of Trust
Author: Elizabeth Bonesteel
Release Date: November 8, 2016
Publisher: Harper Voyager
Genre: Science Fiction/Military
Format: Ebook

In this follow-up to the acclaimed military science fiction thriller The Cold Between, a young soldier finds herself caught in the crosshairs of a deadly conspiracy in deep space.

Six weeks ago, Commander Elena Shaw and Captain Greg Foster were court-martialed for their role in an event Central Gov denies ever happened. Yet instead of a dishonorable discharge or time in a military prison, Shaw and Foster and are now back together on Galileo. As punishment, they’ve been assigned to patrol the nearly empty space of the Third Sector.

But their mundane mission quickly turns treacherous when the Galileo picks up a distress call: Exeter, a sister ship, is under attack from raiders. A PSI generation ship—the same one that recently broke off negotiations with Foster—is also in the sector and joins in the desperate battle that leaves ninety-seven of Exeter’s crew dead.

An investigation of the disaster points to sabotage. And Exeter is only the beginning. When the PSI ship and Galileo suffer their own “accidents,” it becomes clear that someone is willing to set off a war in the Third Sector to keep their secrets, and the clues point to the highest echelons of power . . . and deep into Shaw’s past.


Meet the Author:

Elizabeth Bonesteel began making up stories at the age of five, in an attempt to battle insomnia. Thanks to a family connection to the space program, she has been reading science fiction since she was a child. She currently lives in central Massachusetts with her husband, her daughter, and various cats.


Tour Schedule

 Monday, November 7 
Book featured at The Review From Here
Tuesday, November 8
Book featured at The Literary Nook
Book featured at As the Page Turns
Wednesday, November 9
Guest blogging at The Dark Phantom
Book featured at All Inclusive Retort
Thursday, November 10
Book featured at The Bookworm Lodge
Guest blogging at The Writer’s Life
Friday, November 11
Book featured at Bent Over Bookwords
Book featured at CBY Book Club
Monday, November 14
Book reviewed at Cover2Cover
Book featured at Lover of Literature
Tuesday, November 15
Book featured at Mello and June
Wednesday, November 16
Guest blogging at A Title Wave
Book featured at Harmonious Publicity
Thursday, November 17
Book reviewed at I’m Shelf-ish
Guest blogging at Write and Take Flight
Friday, November 18
Book featured at Bound 2 Escape
Book reviewed at Cheryl’s Book Nook

Brought to You By: