Blog tour: ‘The Echoing’

Blog tour: ‘The Echoing’

Jessica Blackburn and Cedar Fort Publishing & Media are pleased to announce the “The Echoing” blog tour, which will run from August 10-24, 2016.

If you’re interested in participating in this blog tour, please email us or leave a comment below.

About the book:

Rylee has an unusual gift. It brings good luck to those who are kind to her and misfortune to those who are not–at least, that’s what the crazy woman in the woods tells her. But Rylee doesn’t believe it until strange coincidences start happening to her classmates and friends. Her gift may not be a matter of luck but of life and death.


About the author:

Jessica Blackburn studied at Brigham Young University—Idaho and graduated from her local community college with an Associates of Arts Degree. She currently lives in the beautiful Columbia Gorge as a stay-at-home mom. When she’s not writing stories, she spends her spare time teaching Sunday School and blogging her lessons and personal thoughts at

“The Echoing” blog tour schedule:
August 10: Kindle and Me
August 11: Today’s the Best Day | Writing Worm
August 12: Rockin’ Book Review | Singing Librarian Books
August 13: Getting Your Read On
August 14: Reidhead Random-ness
August 15:
August 16: Geo Librarian
August 17: The Dragon’s Nook
August 18: Bookworm Lisa
August 19:
August 20: A Bliss Complete
August 21: Novel-ties
August 22: Blue Bird’s Nest
August 23: Inklings and Notions
August 24: Wishful Endings | Paranormal and Romantic Suspense Reviews | Frugal Mom of 8

Blog tour: ‘Beyond the Rising Tide’

Blog tour: ‘Beyond the Rising Tide’

Sarah Beard and Cedar Fort Publishing & Media are pleased to announce the “Beyond the Rising Tide” blog tour, which will run from June 14-30, 2016.

If you’re interested in participating in this blog tour, please email us or leave a comment below.

About the book:

Kai met Avery only once—in the moment he died saving her life. Now when he’s not using his new healing powers to help people, he watches helplessly as Avery’s life is unraveled by his death. To help her, he risks everything by breaking the rules, dangerously blurring the barriers between life and death.


About the author:

Sarah Beard is the author of “Porcelain Keys,” a YA contemporary romance. She has a degree in communications from the University of Utah and splits her time between writing and freelance editing. She is a cancer survivor and a hopeless romantic. She enjoys reading and composing music, and lives with her husband and children in Salt Lake City, Utah.

“Beyond the Rising Tide” blog tour schedule:
June 14: Singing Librarian Books | Emmy Mom | Compass Book Ratings
June 15: Katie’s Clean Book Collection | Cindy Bennett
Sweetly Made | Sorcery in the Bookshelves
June 16: Rockin’ Book Reviews | Geo Librarian
June 17: Heidi Reads | Kindle and Me
June 18: Fire and Ice
June 19: Inklings and Notions
June 20: My Book a Day
June 21: Bookworm Lisa | Min Reads and Reviews
June 22: Robyn Echols Books | Fantasy World | The Write Path
June 23: Wishful Endings | Getting Your Read On | Batch of Books
June 24: Mylissa’s Reviews and Book Thoughts | Maybe Books Will Be Our Always
June 25: Charmed Haven Book Reviews | Just Commonly
June 26: Paranormal and Romantic Suspense Reviews
June 27: Literary Time Out | Book by Book
June 28: That Artsy Reader Girl | The Real Housewives of Riverton
June 29: Mel’s Shelves
June 30: Books Are Sanity | Fictionally | Read Headed Book Lady

Blog tour: ‘The Haunting of Springett Hall’

Blog tour: ‘The Haunting of Springett Hall’

E.B. Wheeler and Cedar Fort Publishing & Media are pleased to announce the “The Haunting of Springett Hall” blog tour, which will run from July 8-21, 2015.

If you’re interested in participating in this blog tour, please email us or leave a comment below.

About the book:

Eighteen-year-old Lucy doesn’t know how she became a ghost, but the more she remembers of her life in Victorian England, the more she wants to forget. Her only hope of changing the mistakes of her past is to enlist the help of a servant named Philip—the one living person who can see her. This impossible romance story is filled with delightful period detail and plenty of mystery.

Haunting of Springett Hall blog tourAbout the author:

E.B. Wheeler grew up in Georgia and California, where she became fascinated by stories of the places around her. She studied English and history at Brigham Young University and earned an MA and MLA from Utah State University. After several years teaching and writing about history, she decided to pursue her other dream of writing fiction. “The Haunting of Springett Hall” is her first novel. She currently lives in northern Utah with her husband, daughters, various pets, and a garden full of antique roses.

“The Haunting of Springett Hall” blog tour schedule:

July 8: Literary Timeout • The Stubby Pencil Reviews • Hope to Read
July 9: Jorie Loves a Story • Books and Benches
July 10: My Book a Day • A Casual Reader’s Blog • The Accidental Writer
July 11: Katie’s Clean Book Collection
July 12: Kimberly Griffiths Little
July 13: Bookworm Lisa • Kathryn Cooper
July 14: Book Lover Stop • Live to Read • Reading Lark
July 15: Shelli Proffitt Howells • Operation Awesome
July 16: Readalot • Mel’s Shelves • Inklings and Notions
July 17: Paranormal & Romantic Suspense Reviews
July 18: Blooming With Books • Eternal Principles Simplified
July 19: My Love for Reading Keeps Growing
July 20: Wishful Endings • Fire and Ice
July 21: Mundie Moms

Fiction Fest: Final free peek at Emily Hall Bates’ ‘Demons’

Fiction Fest: Final free peek at Emily Hall Bates’ ‘Demons’

demons-heart_9781462115150Although this is the last free preview of Emily Hall Bates’ “Demon’s Heart,” this doesn’t have to be the last you read of the book. Just purchase a copy for yourself to get the rest of the story.

“Demon’s Heart” is available in bookstores and from online retailers.


From the author: Rustav has enjoyed the safety of the mountain village, a place far different from his chaotic home. However, a startling exchange with Anton, the town’s old carpenter, sends Rustav on the run.


Rustav began running, the methodical thud of his feet against the dirt roads beating away Anton’s wild words. He took the shortest route out of the town, then took a sharp turn to head directly uphill. He blew past the church and slowed only as he approached the tree line.

Five feet from the first of the old trees, Rustav stopped. He hadn’t yet decided whether he fully intended to plunge recklessly through the forest, spurred on by the absurdity of Anton’s declarations. After all, things had been going so well. It had been three months since he ran from the castle. Three months with no Guards and no sign of Karstafel. He could almost believe that he had outrun his problems.

But if he stayed, his problems were bound to catch up. Not even the mountains would avoid the island plague. The sooner he moved on, the better.

But what about the others? Didn’t they deserve a warning too, after all they had done for him? Could he really just leave them behind to suffer under the rule of demon-worshippers?

Torn by indecision, Rustav stared into the darkness of the woods, the world where scarcely any sunlight penetrated the thick tangle of boughs. Something within the shadows drew him in, straining at a place deep inside of him, a place he had never before been aware of. Cautiously, he took a step closer, then another, until he could reach out and touch the nearest of the trees, placing his hand lightly on the deeply grooved trunk.

Whispering filled his ears, and Rustav strained to hear. Though he couldn’t understand any words, he could feel the spirit of the message—excitement, anticipation, invitation. The whispering pulled at him, urged him onward. Into the woods to meet my death, Rustav thought ruefully, trying to shake the mysticism of the moment. Still, he couldn’t free himself from the urgency of the whispers. A breeze pushed at his back, and Rustav pressed his hand a little harder against the rough bark of the tree. He’d be able to hear the words, he was sure, if he just had another moment.

And then the whispering stopped.

Fiction Fest: Bidding adieu to ‘Blue’

Fiction Fest: Bidding adieu to ‘Blue’

Uncommon-Blue_9781462114887Yes, boys and girls, this is the final free peek at R.C. Hancock’s debut novel, “An Uncommon Blue,” so read up and treasure this experience for all it’s worth. Better yet, go out and buy a copy to get the rest of the story!

The book currently has a 4.73 out of 5 rating on Goodreads and has received several positive reviews. As you can see, there’s plenty of reasons for you to get your own copy of this book.

Did we mention it’s available in bookstores and from online retailers?


From the author: This except is from Bruno’s first trip into the Red Slums. In an effort to avoid the pokers (law enforcement), he accompanies his schoolmate Jeannette to her house. But he wonders if he made the wrong decision…


Jeannette’s “house” was a large, maroon tent with a tarp strung up as a front awning of sorts. A large, dark-haired man sat out front on a milk crate. In his red glowing hand he held a knife the size of my arm and was using it to sharpen a box of pencils.

“Who’s this?” he asked Jeannette in a barely audible voice.

“The guy from the bridge.”

They’d been talking about me? I glanced back the way we’d come. From the higher vantage point I could see the river winding its way through town. The bridge seemed miles away.

I turned back to face the tent. Jeannette had vanished and the man with a knife was now standing.

“Where’s Jeannette?”
The man stared at me as if waiting for something. He was not a tall person but had broad shoulders and impressive black stubble from ear to ear.

“Nice tie,” he said.

I took a step back. “Are you her father?”
He shook his head and pointed with his knife to the opening of the tent.

Something didn’t feel quite right. I tried to remember whose idea it had been to come to the Taudis.

The pencil sharpener walked to the tent and held the flap open. I weighed my options. If I ran, the man would catch me in two strides. Defending myself didn’t look too good either. I took a step toward the tent. At least if a gang of Red thugs painted me, I’d be completely unrecognizable to the pokers. I just hoped the Reds weren’t inclined to dispose of witnesses.

“I swear I won’t say anything to the police.”
The large man raised a lip. Was he snarling at me? Jeannette’s face appeared in the tent’s opening. “Aren’t you coming in? Mama wants to meet you.”

I hesitated. I was relieved that Jeannette hadn’t left me, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t all part of the act.

I pointed to Monsieur Scruffy. “Who is this guy?” “That’s my brother Philippe.”
“What’s with the knife?”
“Protection,” the Red said, his face suddenly inches from mine. “you need it in this part of town.”

I swallowed and followed Jeannette into the dark opening.

The tent, while not high enough to stand up in, was wider than it seemed from the outside and meticulously clean. In one corner a stout woman sat cooking something on a propane stove.

“Hello, young man,” she said. And before I could stop her, she hobbled toward me on her knees and kissed both my cheeks.

“Thank you?”

Jeannette laughed. “That’s my sister on the bed.”

I looked but didn’t see any bed. Instead two sleeping bags lined the wall—one covered with papers and magazines, the other occupied by a slender reclining figure. A book covered her face.

“Say hello, Véronique,” Jeannette said.
“Hello,” came a voice from the other side of the book. “Be polite, dear,” the mother said.

Véronique lowered her book, and I froze.

I had often imagined what my ideal girl would look like. Hair, face, body—all the shallow stuff that guys pretend not to care about. But I’d never imagined there could be a girl that would exceed every one of those expectations. Not just exceed them but blow them out of the water. Compared to Véronique, my imaginary perfect woman looked like the underside of a cow.

“Nice to meet you,” Véronique said, although her expression suggested otherwise.

I opened my mouth to answer but never got the chance. out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. Then something slammed into the base of my skull. I had only half a second to appreciate the pain before it pulled me into darkness.