SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - PNR THRILLER - NIGHT TIMES TRILOGY by Eileen Sheehan

The darkest hour is only the beginning in the world of shadows.

Night Times Trilogy
by Eileen Sheehan
Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance Thriller

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Night Times Book One
Night Times Trilogy, #1

For two hundred years, Ethan has haunted the shadows, carrying the heartbreak of losing Judith, the wife he loved before he was unwillingly turned into a vampire.

When he meets Arabella at a costume party, he's stunned by the similarities she shares with Judith. As their connection deepens, Ethan becomes convinced that Arabella is Judith reborn. But with her returning memories come dangerous secrets—knowledge from a centuries-old vampire-hunting society that could threaten the existence of every vampire alive.

Now, hunted by both a ruthless Vampire League and relentless vampire hunters, Ethan and Arabella find themselves caught in a deadly struggle between love, loyalty, and survival. As enemies close in and the past refuses to stay buried, Ethan must choose between losing Arabella forever or offering her the immortality that was forced upon him.

Night Times (Book One) begins a captivating vampire romance thriller trilogy that is filled with, forbidden love, deadly secrets, and a passion that defies time itself.

 

What readers are saying:

 

“For fans of supernatural thrillers involving vampires, Night Times has got everything they crave... Sheehan has created yet another immersive fantastical world full of vampires, witches, and monster hunters. The book is fast-paced, and since I was enjoying it so much, the pages just flew by….You're going to love this!”

 “… Sheehan doesn’t just focus on romance. She digs into what love and trust really mean when everything’s on the line. There’s also a raw look at what it means for a vampire to lose their humanity—how turning immortal tears you away from who you used to be, and from people you once knew. Immortality in this story isn’t just sparkling and forever-young; it comes with a price: isolation, loss, and sometimes the fading of your own sense of self. Still, there’s a flip side—it can mean never-ending love and the fierce desire to protect…… If you’re in the mood for a supernatural drama that goes beyond the usual tropes—one that really leans into the pain, the memories, and the kind of love that won’t quit—this book is definitely worth your time.”

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Prologue

The rain came down in silver threads and turned the road to black glass on the night that Ethan’s reality was changed forever.

He remembered that more clearly than he remembered his own face from that time. Faces changed in memory. They were smoothed by years and grief until they became something like paintings. But weather remained exact. The smell of wet earth. The sting of cold through wool. The way the world looked when it was nearly dark and every lamp in the distance seemed to float like a warning.

He had been running then from the thing that had already happened to him.

He had not yet learned that becoming a vampire did not feel like entering a new life. It felt like being torn from the old one with enough violence to leave a permanent shape in the soul. At first there had been only pain, then thirst, then a terrifying clarity that came with the hunger. He had not completely grasped what he was but that realization was soon to come.

And because he had understood that, he had run.

He stood now beneath the branches of the elm at the edge of the lane with the rain slipping through the leaves onto his face while he watched the light in his own house glow through the windows.

Home. The word struck him with unbearable force.

Inside, his wife and love of his life, Judith, would be setting down her sewing and folding the blanket over the arm of the chair. She would be waiting for him, although she might pretend not to be. She always pretended not to wait, as if waiting was too revealing a sort of love. But Ethan had always known. He had known by the way that she paused when she heard his footstep and by the way that she turned before he spoke while already smiling.

He’d spent three hours pacing the woods beyond the property line while fighting his own body as if it was a wild animal. His mouth still burned. His throat ached with a need so vast that it felt like a second heart beating where his was supposed to be. He had torn at his own cuff, bitten the inside of his mouth until it bled, and shoved his hands into the mud to keep from running back to the house.

The problem was that he could still smell her….

 

…“Stay where you are,” he gruffly ordered.

Her mouth slightly parted with fear. “You’re frightening me.”

He could not bear that. Not from her.

The room wavered at the edge of his vision. Hunger rose up in him with a vicious, animal certainty. And for one impossible instant he saw her as prey - not Judith, not wife, not the woman who had braided ribbons into her hair and fallen asleep reading beside the fire, but a pulse of life that he could take with one movement.

He stumbled backward.

Judith’s expression changed to alarm as she exclaimed, “Ethan!”

“No!” he bellowed. The word came out raw.

The flame shivered as she set the candle down too quickly and took a step toward him. “Tell me what happened.”

He violently shook his head. The taste of his own blood filled his mouth again, although he knew there was no wound there now. “You must not come near me.”…

 

…When Judith finally spoke, her voice was broken but steady. “Ethan.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes?”

Her voice trembled as she said, “Do not disappear from my life forever.”

That was the moment when he nearly broke. He put one hand on the doorframe to steady himself. When he spoke, his voice was almost gone. “I will try not to.”

Then he stepped out into the rain and left the house before the dawn could find him.

He never forgot the sound of the door closing behind him. He never forgot the way that Judith had stood in the light, frightened and loving and still reaching for him. And for the centuries that followed, through blood, hunger, survival, and loneliness so deep that it became a second skin, he carried one unbearable truth with him - the night he abandoned Judith, he had not yet understood that immortality was not the curse.

The curse was living long enough to remember the exact shape of the love that you were forced to leave behind.

Night Times Book Two
Night Times Trilogy, #2

Arabella was supposed to be dead.

After faking her death to escape the vampires who want her gone, Arabella and Ethan disappear into Las Vegas, hoping to build a life free from fear, secrets, and bloodshed.

For six months, they succeed.

Then Olive discovers the truth.

Obsessed with Ethan and unwilling to accept his love for another woman, Olive sets out to destroy everything they've built. As jealousy turns to vengeance, Ethan and Arabella are thrust into a nightmare that will change them forever.

Filled with danger, betrayal, suspense, and immortal love, Night Times: Book Two is a gripping paranormal romance about how far people will go for love—and how deadly obsession can become.

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Night Times Book Three
Night Times Trilogy, #3

Arabella survived death, but immortality comes with a price.

As she learns to embrace life as a vampire under Ethan's guidance, the memories of her torture and murder refuse to fade. While vampire society struggles to accept her return, Arabella secretly plots revenge against the vampires responsible for her suffering—including the woman who wanted her dead.

One by one, her enemies begin to disappear.

As fear spreads through the vampire community and suspicion grows, Arabella must balance her thirst for vengeance with the future she's building alongside Ethan. But some wounds can only heal in darkness, and some debts can only be paid in blood.

Night Times: Book Three is a dark paranormal romance filled with vengeance, passion, secrets, and a love strong enough to survive death.

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Eileen Sheehan is an Internationally published, Best Selling and Award-Winning author of paranormal romance thrillers & horror for the mature adult. A professional and full-time spiritual advisor and holistic practitioner for over 30 years, the majority of her 76+ novels feature the paranormal, but some are novels about people in love, and a very few are self-help. Eileen incorporates experiences through the years along with her imagination to provide the best believable and entertaining read possible. As the years progressed, so has her writing style. Although she still includes romance and strives for a happily ever after ending, her stories tend to have more mystery, thrills, and a touch of horror in them.

A former busy working mother (who is now a laid-back grandmother), Eileen understands the value of time. She makes it a point to write novels that are able to be enjoyed in one or two evenings.

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Presented by

BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - HORROR THRILLER - ONE LEG ON EARHT by 'Pemi Aguda

One Leg on Earth

by ‘Pemi Aguda

Publication date: May 5th 2026

Genres: Adult, Horror, Occult Fiction, Thriller

BLURB

From the author of the National Book Award finalist Ghostroots, a debut novel that thrills with its eerie mix of folklore and history.

Something is haunting the pregnant women of Lagos. Across the city, they are walking into water . . . and drowning.

Twenty-three-year-old Yosoye arrives in Lagos ready to start her life. Working for a slick architectural firm, she finds a city of adventure and opportunity. Her new world is one of fancy gallery openings, glamorous friends, and all the shiny potential of the future, encapsulated in projects like Omi City, the ultra-luxury development her company is building, a symbol of the dawn of a brighter Lagos.

But Yosoye’s idyllic vision of Lagos soon begins to seem naive, and its darker, stranger layers trouble her. Something is not right about Omi City, and as construction speeds ahead, stories of strange deaths in the city’s open waters reach a fever pitch. And then, after a chance encounter, Yosoye discovers she is pregnant . . . a revelation which puts her on a collision course with an inexplicable force that is as seductive as it is deadly. A masterwork by a writer hailed as “an astonishing talent” (Lauren Groff), One Leg on Earth is an ambitious novel like no other: a coming-of-age story, an uncanny exploration of motherhood, and a chilling vision of the dark side of progress.

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EXCERPT

MIRIAM AIKI PRAYED FOR THE FRUIT OF THE WOMB for thirteen years. Thirteen years of chafed knees: blood and shredded skin staining church altars, shrine altars, her bedside rug, her mother-in-law’s living room tiles. Thirteen years begging for a miracle, for strength, for patience. Her cries were answered. At thirty-eight, her womb was unfurling its first bloody fruit.

Now, in the passenger seat of her husband’s car, she smiled at her taut six-month belly. An ugly joy stirred within her. Ugly because it sat heavy on top of her growing baby, nausea amassing saliva in her mouth. But mothers who’d hunted long for that title knew that this unpleasantness was welcome, embraced.

Miriam smoothed a hand over her lace buba. She smiled at her husband, Victor, who frowned at the standstill traffic. They were running late for his cousin’s wedding and hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. His knuckles tapped an agitated beat on the steering wheel along to soft jazz playing on the radio. Past her husband’s head, the blue BRT bus keeping them in merciful shadow advertised a “We Are Lagos” music concert. Celebrating our oneness together! Miriam turned her beaming face to her window, gap-tooth a narrow darkness in an otherwise white smile.

These shining eyes, these stretched lips, these deep dimples. The people of Third Mainland Bridge stuck in traffic with Miriam would always remember the fizzy happiness in these details.

Miriam’s bliss bubbled up, feathering her insides, shimmering around her baby, erupting from her throat in a giggle—a curious misplaced sound in that car.

Victor turned to her, startled. His hand brushed her thigh, her rounded belly.

“Are you okay?”

Miriam giggled again. Her head slid down the leather headrest, neck tilting backward for more happiness to escape, clavicle bared to her husband’s confused gaze. This frothing joy within Miriam, she wanted to warble it out, to dance through it, until she and her baby were heady with the fervor of it.

She pushed the passenger door open. Stepped out. Victor sat there, blinking in shock for what would later seem like two lifetimes. The humid air crowded in to displace cool air-conditioning. He clicked the radio off, leaned toward the open mouth of the door.

“Miriam? What are you doing?”

Miriam kicked her sandals off, flung the fuchsia-pink slingbacks behind her. One heel struck the car’s bonnet, leaving a silver chink. She wound between the bridge’s stalled vehicles: engines turned off; gears stuck in neutral. She skipped and spun and squealed. Even in the midst of that sweltering Lagos day of thumping car music and raucous engines and the truck that honked at her for dancing too close, Miriam’s squeal stood out, a siren.

Passengers lowered their half-eaten Pure Bliss wafers and leaned out of windows to watch this odd but entertaining episode. Drivers, stretching their legs in small huddles, paused their whining—about traffic and heat and wives and money and that new backache that made their worlds flush dark when they bent at the wrong angle. All necks craned toward Miriam. Hawkers hitched boxes higher and nudged each other to behold the spirited pregnant woman.

Miriam swayed, shoulders shaking with laughter at a joke nobody else could hear. Her legs kicked. Hands stretched, twirling as if being spun about. What joy! What joy!

Victor leaned on the horn. His feet hit tar, finally going after her. Had she gone mad? He yelled her name, using the tone his father wielded on his mother, demanding Miriam return to the car immediately.

But Miriam didn’t want to get back in the car. She wanted to dance, to be free, to glide forward with the happiness surging from her womb, her baby. Her husband navigated between fascinated watchers. He shouted, “Miriam! Miriam! Miriam!” But by the time he got to the railings, she had launched herself off Third Mainland Bridge, laughing and screeching into the lagoon below, belly-first, like a child jumping into the arms of a beloved parent.

 

Author Info

Pemi Aguda is a Nigerian writer known for her short stories and debut collection Ghostroots (2024). Her work often explores complex themes surrounding motherhood, identity, and the supernatural. Ghostroots, which includes previously published stories such as "Breastmilk" and "The Hollow", was a finalist for the 2024 National Book Award for Fiction and received critical acclaim for its unifying themes and narrative cohesion.

Aguda's stories have been widely recognized, earning multiple accolades, including an O'Henry Award in 2022 for "Breastmilk" and again in 2023 for "The Hollow". Additionally, "Breastmilk" was shortlisted for the 2024 Caine Prize for African Writing. Her forthcoming novel, The Suicide Mothers, which won the 2020 Deborah Rogers Foundation Award, is slated for release in 2025.

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Presented by

SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - ACTION THRILLER - FALSE CONNECTIONS by Steve Sheppard

She's ex-MI5.

MI5 wants her dead.

Who can she trust?

False Connections
by Steve Sheppard
Genre: Thriller, Action

"Thriller addicts won't be disappointed"
"Steve Sheppard has created another great character in Mel Milano."

Three years ago, Mel Milano was an MI5 intelligence officer with a promising career. Then, during a routine protection and surveillance operation in Wales, things went drastically wrong and three people died, including Mel’s partner and fiancé, Liam Webster.

Drummed out of the service on trumped-up charges by MI5 Deputy Director, Sarah Brook, Mel lost her career, her self-respect, her confidence and her fiancé. Nothing made sense.

Three years on, she is rebuilding her life, working for a private security outfit.

But she’s never forgiven the way she was dumped by MI5. One day she’ll discover the truth about Brook and what was really going on.

Now, though, it’s clear that Mel’s not the only one still holding a grudge. Suddenly everybody seems to want her dead. But why?

On the run from MI5, is there anyone Mel can trust to help her uncover the past?

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‘Who exactly is Adam?’ I ask. ‘What’s this about, Sarah? And what the hell are you doing here? You, specifically. The Deputy Director doesn’t get her kitten heels dirty without reason. Timmy and Stu are big boys. They could have checked I’m safely tucked up by themselves. They didn’t need to bring their mum with them.’

                Tim glowers but Sarah laughs. ‘You’ve still got a tongue on you, Mel. I’ve missed it. Old place hasn’t been the same since you left.’

                ‘Left?’ I say. ‘Pushed out, you mean. By you, as I recall.’ The memory of Liam’s death and the trumped-up charges come back to me from where I’ve left them lying dormant for three years. I was responsible for two deaths, one of them a Russian under UK protection, the other my partner. Failing to call for support as required. Lying to a superior officer, apparently. Insubordination. And, finally, assault. OK, that last one was true, although if I’d really assaulted Five’s security chief, he’d have collected a few bruises and not just a slightly askew tie.

                ‘Leave us, please, Tim,’ says Sarah. She’s stopped laughing. Tim looks annoyed; he may think he’s more important than he is. Nevertheless, he rises and goes into the kitchen. His socks are red. We wait while he noisily puts his shoes on and leaves the house. He doesn’t quite slam the door behind him. It’s not a very professional performance but I say nothing.

                ‘You were never pushed out, Mel,’ starts Sarah. I’m about to remonstrate but she holds up a hand. ‘You ask me why I’ve come all the way out here to the back of beyond. This is why. You’re not going to like this but please bear with me until I’ve finished.’ She pauses. ‘You’ve never left the service.’ I say nothing. She’s asked me not to interrupt so I don’t. ‘Linden Harper is MI5. Was MI5, sorry. His so-called independent bureau has in fact always been just one of our little webs. As you have certainly discovered during the last two years, you’ve benefitted from rather more elastic boundaries than you had working from Thames House. Harper’s isn’t the only such offshoot. It suits us occasionally to be able to employ less formal methods than governmental rules dictate. And the paperwork is less scrutinised. That’s no bad thing, especially for me. I have far too much paperwork these days.’ She looks briefly wistful, perhaps remembering the more active days of her youth.

                ‘I discovered Harper by myself,’ I say. ‘His was the fourth outfit I applied to. He wasn’t easy to find. And I’d taken a year off first, as I imagine you know.’

                ‘You may believe you found him but the truth is often more complicated than you think. Nevertheless, however it happened, you were given a job. The other three companies had turned you down, yes?’

                ‘Are they Five too then?’

                ‘How hard were they to find?’ Not hard at all was the answer. My expression undoubtedly indicated my acknowledgement of that. ‘They’re all genuine. Legitimate private contractors. One’s gone bust. Not unusual in the current economic climate. I’m afraid the word was put around that you were, how can I put this? Toxic. No one was going to employ you.’

                ‘Only Harper.’ Despite myself, I’m smiling. ‘Devious old bastard.’

                ‘Him or me?’

                ‘Both of you.’ I remind myself that one devious old bastard is now dead. ‘So what now?’

                ‘Old boss, new boss, I’m afraid, my dear,’ she says, spreading her arms wide. ‘Welcome home.’

                ‘And what if I say no.’

                ‘You won’t. And not because you’re still toxic and your intelligence career would be over if you did. You could get a job as a barmaid, I guess. You’re a good-looking woman, after all, Mel, but you wouldn’t get to do the things you like doing. Maybe on a raucous Friday night but it wouldn’t be the same.’

Steve Sheppard was born and grew up in Surrey before moving to Buckinghamshire and then to Oxfordshire, where he spent a quarter of a century living in an idiosyncratic village that was the affectionate inspiration for his fourth book, Lazytown. He now lives in Hampshire. He spent forty years starting to write books but not finishing them, until belatedly realising that the key is not to give up. The other thing he has since learned is that he should have become a celebrity before writing a book, as this would have made selling it much easier. 

 False Connections is Steve’s fifth book, but the first one written as a straight thriller and not primarily as a comedy, although it does contain humour. He hopes it will be the first of a series featuring feisty, funny but flawed ex-MI5 agent, Mel Milano. He also has three spy thrillers with laughs to his name, all published by Claret Press: A Very Important Teapot (2019), set in Australia, Bored to Death in the Baltics (2021), not set in Australia, and Poor Table Manners (2024), which takes place in Cape Town.  These feature an initially fairly hapless hero, Dawson, and a considerably less hapless heroine, Lucy, together with varied supporting casts, most of whom are not who they claim to be. Steve’s fourth book is an out-and-out comedy-murder-mystery, Lazytown (2025).

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Presented by

BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT -THRILLER - NIGHT HOME by Rose Titus

Night Home

by Rose Titus

Publication date: December 2nd 2017

Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Thriller

BLURB

When Muriel Aubrey inherits an old house in a small town, she imagines that moving into the rural community will be deathly dull. But the old house once belonged to her eccentric granduncle, a professor who was said to be researching something very mysterious and unusual before his untimely death. While exploring the slightly rundown Victorian age home, she finds the research notes that had been hidden away and discovers that the professor was researching vampires.

It isn’t long before Muriel meets residents of the small town who knew the professor almost a century ago, and that everything he wrote in the notes he kept is true… And she suddenly finds herself stalked by a vampire hunter.

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EXCERPT

There was the usual convenience store stuff on the rack: Tabloids, celebrity gossip, fashion magazines, newspapers. The store sold lottery tickets, junk food, candy, beer, a few grocery items, even a few small appliances. She noticed the guy who owned the place was watching her. It made her nervous. Not because he watched her, but because he was so pale. He did not look unhealthy. It was like he just never got out into the sun.

“You must be the new girl.”
“Huh?” She spun around to face him.
“You’re new in town. You just moved into that old house.”
“H-how do you know?”

“Well, how could I not know? I live across the field and saw the light was on for the first time in a long time.”

“Oh,” she felt silly. “Yeah. That’s right. I’m new in town. The house will need some work, but it’s not really that bad. My eccentric old uncle owned it a long time ago and—”

“I know. Professor Aubrey. He was a good man,” there was sadness in his voice.

“Yeah, that’s what they say—” how the hell would he know if he was a good man? This guy looked no more than thirty. The old guy had been dead for at least since 1936, according to the old newspaper clipping.

“Elton.” He seemed to smile as he introduced himself. “Elton Masaryk.”

“Muriel Aubrey.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

She went up to pay for the magazine she picked.

“You let me know if you need anything over there, all right? I live just across the field. If you need anything, don’t hesitate. Really.”

“Thank you.” She went for the door but turned around. “You sound as if you know something about Professor Aubrey?”

He hesitated. “A little. Why?”

“He was related to me, but I hardly know anything about him. I heard he was murdered by his colleague from the University and—”

“Yeah. That’s right. The same guy who murdered your uncle also killed three other people too. They gave him the chair. Bastard deserved it.” But then he was silent. He was beginning to sound as if he knew more than he could tell. As if it still angered him somehow. “Oh well.” Then he went silent.

“Okay. Thank you.” She left. She returned home as the sky began to brighten, and finally slept.

 

Author Info

Rose Titus resides somewhere in cold, dreary New England with two manipulative cats and a very out of date computer with which she creates horror and fantasy fiction. She also has a restored classic Buick to ride around in while in search of adventure.

For travel she has stayed the night in an allegedly haunted castle, has taken a boat ride on Loch Ness, and has visited the Bermuda Triangle -- without getting lost.

Her work has previously appeared in Lost Worlds, Lynx Eye, Bog Gob, Mausoleum, Weird Terrain, Descend, The Dead River Review, and other literary magazines. She also writes regularly for Blood Moon Rising Magazine.

When she's not working or writing or messing with her old car, she waits by the mailbox for her Fortean Times to arrive.

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Presented by

SPOTLIGHT - DARK ROMANTIC SUSPENSE - OUR TOXIC TRAITS by Rebecca Christo

Some secrets are better left buried.

Others are waiting to pull you under.

Our Toxic Traits
by Rebecca Christo
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense Thriller

Some secrets are better left buried. Others are waiting to pull you under.

Jill Davis is just trying to survive the hustle of New York City. As a private dog walker for the elite residents of an Upper East Side high-rise, she’s used to navigating the eccentricities of her wealthy clients. From the icy and demanding Briar Whitney, to the mysterious and unnervingly attractive Christopher Bennett. Jill prides herself on blending into the background; but in a city where everyone is watching, staying invisible is becoming a dangerous game.

While a serial killer that the media has dubbed the “Socialite Strangler” stalks the shadows of Central Park, Jill’s carefully curated life begins to unravel. A series of unexplained “glitches” in her daily routine, and a questioning detective suggest that the danger isn’t just in the park, but in the building where she works.

When a high-stakes Halloween party turns a theatrical hoax into a gruesome reality, Jill is thrust into the centre of a nightmare. Caught in a web of obsession and lethal deception, she must decide who to trust.

In a world where everyone is connected, there is nowhere left to hide. Can Jill break free before her own toxic traits and those around her, become her undoing? 

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Avid dog lover and Author Rebecca Christo was born in Toronto, Ontario, where she developed an early love of both reading and writing. Of particular interest to her was creating a story with emotionally mature content that was still entertaining enough to be read for fun on a relaxing vacation. She hopes she’s succeeded with her very first published novel: Mirrored Wounds.

When she’s not travelling with her husband, Darcy Christo, Rebecca enjoys spending time with him, her children Ali, Brittany and Maxwell, and her puppies (Lucy and Winston) in Wasaga Beach, Ontario where she currently lives.

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Presented by

SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - THRILLER - THE CURSE OF DEAD HORSE CANYON TRILOGY by Marcha Fox & Pete Risingsun

A scandalous Top Secret Facility built on Sacred Ground 

triggers an ancient Cheyenne curse.

The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon: Cheyenne Spirits

Dead Horse Canyon Saga, #1

by Marcha Fox & Pete Risingsun

Genre: Native American Cross-Cultural Conspiracy Thriller

GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION TRIGGERS AN ANCIENT CHEYENNE CURSE...

Greed and corruption have infiltrated the once-pristine Colorado Rockies, echoes of years past when silver miners swarmed the area like vermin, precipitating a 19th Century curse. Now a new generation delivers a different form of pollution, among them the most corrupt entity of them all.

All Sara Reynolds remembers of the wreck that slammed their Silverado to the depths of Dead Horse Canyon is Bryan's dying plea to expose what he found. Why did they kill him? What happened that fateful spring day? Will she and her dead husband's life-long Native American friend, Charlie Littlewolf, discover his secret?

Ceremonies taught by Charlie's Northern Cheyenne medicine man grandfather decades before can connect with the spirits and reveal all things. He shunned them then. He needs them now, like never before. Coupled with Sara's ethereal clues from the heavens can they find answers in time? Or will the same black ops raiders murder them, too?

READERS' FAVORITE 5-STAR REVIEW

"Infused with a sense of danger, the intricate plot and dramatic storyline create a breathtaking and intense story....An exceptional novel complete with conspiracy, intrigue, and murder that will enthrall everyone who has an affinity for suspenseful thrillers with just a smidgen of the paranormal." --Susan Sewell

THE BOOK COMMENTARY 5-STAR REVIEW

"A fascinating blend of historical mystery and the supernatural that is as suspenseful as it is entertaining. How the past affects the present is a cleverly handled theme, and the narrative highlights the enduring consequences of greed and disrespect for the land. Boldly written, tautly plotted, and expertly delivered." --George Buehlman

AWARDS

Page Turner Book Award
Silver Medal Global Book Awards
Pinnacle Book Achievement Award
Book Excellence Award Finalist
Readers' Favorite 5-star Review

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PROLOGUE

----------------

COLORADO ROCKIES

April 17, Tuesday

4:17 p.m.

Breathtaking drops along the road that rimmed Colorado's Dead Horse Canyon terrified Sara Reynolds from the start. Cliffs and gorges stretched on and off for miles, few protected by guardrails.

"Too expensive," Bryan explained. "Not a priority for lean county budgets."

His advice for dealing with roadway-induced acrophobia was simple:

"Keep your eyes on the center line. Concentrate on the road. Whatever you do, never, ever look down!"

His words sprang from memory, recommendations moot. Ignoring the threat didn't make it go away. Especially when someone T-boned your truck on a blind curve.

Their mangled Silverado teetered on a ledge twenty feet below. She stared, incredulous, as steam twisted upward from its crumpled hood in a sultry, hypnotic dance. Vapors crawled along the shattered windshield, then teased the heart-shaped leaves of a young quaking aspen—the truck's only ally against a sheer drop of several hundred feet.

The realization she'd been the truck's passenger only moments before sizzled through her like lightning. Why was she weightless, brunette tendrils floating about her shoulders like a storm cloud? Her horrified gaze shifted to her husband, likewise weightless and wearing his signature crooked grin.

"What happened?" Her words were soundless, thought rather than speech.

"We're dead."

"What? Dead? What do you mean we're dead?"

He pointed to their truck. She gasped. Their lifeless bodies were clearly visible through the cab's passenger side window.

He was right—they were dead.

The tender expression in his hazel eyes embraced her heart as affection flowed between them. An unexpected sense of peace  defied what lay below. Time froze, the forest hushed and serene as a leafy chorus offered a requiem in the spring breeze.

What seemed an eternity later, sirens screamed through the canyon. His demeanor shifted.

"I'm sorry, Sara. That didn't exactly work out as planned. I know—I should have listened to you. I love you, sweetheart."

Renewed panic surged. "What are you saying, Bryan?"

"You must go back. Promise me. Don't let them get away with this. Please."

He blew her a kiss, then his personage retreated, fading into a swirling vortex of unearthly light.

"No! Wait. Don't leave me! Bryan, please. Don't go!"

He didn't stop, her plea denied, his only response a wave of farewell as he vanished into the light.

* * *

She awoke to mind-numbing pain. Her shoulder, neck, and hip screamed, spasms twisting every muscle as if some wild beast had torn them apart. There'd been an ear-splitting crash, a brilliant flash of light. . .

Where was Bryan? Where was she?

Unless someone knew otherwise, surely it was hell.

Somewhere far away a muffled siren wailed. Fear of the truth conspired with her blood-crusted lashes not to open her eyes. Pain vetoed the refusal. Her eyelids trembled open.

A sandy haired, broad-shouldered man in a blue EMS uniform sat beside her, attention fixed on a beeping vital signs monitor. A metallic taste filled her mouth, lips swollen and heavy, her attempt to speak a scratchy whisper.

"What. . .happened? Wh-where's Bryan? Is he h-here?"

The man turned her way, regarding her with dark, concerned eyes.

"It's okay, ma'am. Don't try to talk." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We're getting you to help as fast as we can."

Her breathing quickened, ravaged muscles and nerves on fire, but the agony consuming her heart eclipsed it all. A sob caught in her throat, words an articulated whimper.

"H-he left me. Here...."

"Just relax." He emptied a syringe into the port of the IV line embedded in her arm.

The pain ebbed. Again nothing. Only darkness.

* * *

BELTON REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER

April 17, Tuesday

5:37 p.m.

The sensation of motion breached the persistent fog. Her eyes cracked open as the gurney rumbled through a portal into blinding light. Electronic chirping, then muted voices, the smell of antiseptics.

She forced her query out from somewhere in her chest. "W-what h-happened?"

The pretty black nurse hanging a unit of blood looked her way. "You were in a bad wreck, darlin'. Just rest now. You're in good hands. You're awake and that's a really good sign."

"But my husband—"

"I know, darlin'. Don't worry about him. He's in a better place." Tears flowed unbidden. It had to be a nightmare. Willing herself awake, however, failed. Abandonment and confusion in the grip of agonizing pain remained.

Return to Dead Horse Canyon: Grandfather Spirits
Dead Horse Canyon Saga, #2

THE DEAD HORSE CANYON SAGA CONTINUES. . .

READERS' FAVORITE 5-STAR REVIEW

"I went into 'Return to Dead Horse Canyon' not having read the first book and while it does read comfortably as a stand-alone, after just a couple of chapters I actually went back to read 'The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon' before restarting book two. It was an excellent decision. The building of the Cheyenne history is critical to the story and had I not understood Sara’s complete motivation and Charlie’s fully fleshed-out roots, I’d have missed out on so much more than just a good read. My gosh, the depth of ethnology packed into both novels is meticulously researched and beautifully detailed. Co-authors Marcha Fox and Pete Risingsun are a dream team with this saga and I’m really looking forward to the third and final installment of their trilogy." -- Asher Syed

This epic modern Native American saga continues in this sequel to "The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon" where Charlie Littlewolf and Sara Reynolds discovered why her husband, Bryan, was murdered, changing their lives forever. While Charlie swore to avenge his white brother's death, the path to do so remains unclear.

His job with Lone Star Operations allows him to use his college education and earn a generous income. However, it conflicts with everything he knows to be right, especially as he returns to the teachings of his medicine man grandfather. Is violating the Earth wrong or not? Little does he realize that his work will ultimately return him to the Northern Cheyenne reservation where his true destiny will manifest in ways he never imagined.

Sara is determined to fulfill Bryan's last request to expose the government corruption coupled with the lethal forces that stole his life. Releasing the scandalous Top Secret data via WikiLeaks infuriates those with much to lose, who place a high price on her demise. When her response gets too personal, the next attempt to silence her forever comes close to home.

While miles apart, each struggles with life-threatening situations as a result of their dedication to Bryan's legacy. Their lives remain entangled through a series of fateful decisions and circumstances that define a future fraught with dangerous unknowns for them both.

AWARDS

Pinnacle Book Achievement Award
Firebird Book Award
Book Excellence Award Finalist
5-star Readers' Favorite Review
Page Turner Award Finalist

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The Revenge of Dead Horse Canyon: Sweet Medicine Spirits
Dead Horse Canyon Saga, #3

The DEAD HORSE CANYON Trilogy's explosive conclusion!

Picking up where "Return to Dead Horse Canyon: Grandfather Spirits" left off, we find that much to her enemy’s dismay, Sara’s life is spared, but with a steep price. A million dollar bounty remains on her demise, motivating another to threaten her life. Paralyzed by the last attempt to eliminate her, her Native American friend, Charlie, promises to help restore her health so she can walk again. Before he can accomplish that, however, the unthinkable happens, which disrupts and redirects their plans.

To fulfill his promise to his Northern Cheyenne Grandfather to complete a four-day ceremonial fast at the Sacred Mountain, Charlie journeys to Bear Butte in South Dakota, known to his tribe as Novavose. A series of startling visions reveal the full scope of his destiny. Of prime importance is to restore the ancient Earth Giving Ceremony known as the Massaum, originally revealed thousands of years before by their prophet, Sweet Medicine.

Has the time come at last for Native People to unite and fulfill Black Cloud’s curse on Dead Horse Canyon? And what about those other 19th century prophecies directed to the 7th Generation by Black Elk and Crazy Horse?

Phase I of the PURF complex is complete. A gala open house to celebrate is scheduled around the same time as the Gathering of Indigenous Leaders. While the underground facility is filled to the brim with corrupt lobbyists, contractors, and government officials, not far away a host of First Nation Americans is entrenched in a ceremony that promises to restore them to their land.

What could possibly go wrong?

5-STAR EDITORIAL REVIEW FROM READERS' FAVORITE

"The Revenge of Dead Horse Canyon by Marcha Fox and Pete Risingsun stands out for its sharp writing and complete ability to immerse readers, especially in Charlie's spiritual transformation. Poor Sara just cannot get a break. Attacked, paralyzed, kidnapped, and then labeled a domestic terrorist and sanctioned! This isn’t just a fight for survival; this is about the power of truth in the face of overwhelming opposition. Charlie fits into this description, with a spectacular ceremony for Sara's healing, but also as a powerful catalyst when he is in the presence of Grandmother Earth and the consequences of his actions. Fox and Risingsun are a dream writing team in every way, and, culturally, this portrayal of Charlie's heritage is painted from the sky to the smallest pebble and the fire burning in between. The pacing is elevated by point of view shifts and all the drama, but also a surprising relationship transformation as well. Ultimately, this finale succeeds with a perfect 10 landing. Very, very highly recommended."

AWARDS

Reader's Favorite 5-stars
Book Excellence Award
Pinnacle Achievement Award

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** Get the trilogy box set! **

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A sweetgrass braid ordered in 2019 connected a NASA physicist in Texas with a Cheyenne elder living on the Northern Cheyenne reservation in Montana. That relationship evolved from a transaction to a consultation to a co-authorship that produced a culturally meticulous, spiritually grounded, award-winning conspiracy thriller trilogy.

Before publishing "The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon" Marcha wanted to confirm her portrayal of Native American culture and the story's protagonist, Charlie Littlewolf, was accurate as well as respectful toward indigenous people.

Synchronicity intervened via that sweetgrass braid and connected her with Pete Risingsun, an enrolled member and elder in the Northern Cheyenne tribe. He offered insights and changes, but best of all, was so taken with the story he ultimately became its coauthor.

Marcha's experience as a retired NASA engineer and seasoned author of The Star Trails Tetralogy science fiction series, melded perfectly with Pete's knowledge of his tribe's history and ceremonies.

The pair, who has never met face to face, collaborated via phone calls, text messages, and snail mail between her home in the Texas Hill Country and his on the reservation in Montana.

It took five years to produce the trilogy that comprises "The Curse of Dead Horse Canyon Saga," the three books of which have collected a total of 13 awards.

In preparation for writing the saga's explosive conclusion, Marcha and Pete conducted extensive research. In so doing, they were delighted to uncover fascinating details of Norther Cheyenne history and ceremonies that dove-tailed perfectly with the complex story's plot, tying it back to numerous events in the 19th Century.

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