Didi Oviatt

Author of suspense novels Search For Maylee, Aggravated Momentum, The Stix, and New Age Lamians. As well as the short story collection Time Wasters and (co-author of) The Suspenseful Collection. Columnist for The Conscious Talk Magazine.



Tour Success, My Gratitude! And Winners!!

I just want to drop a quick thank you to everyone who participated in the blog tour last week for my book Search For Maylee, and Also to every one who took the time to read all of the Promo, Review, and Interview Posts!!  It means the world, and I’m so excited about how everything is going since I released the book!!


Just to let everyone know… READS AND REELS is excellent to work with!! Shenanigans, the leading gal, was very efficient. She got back to me quickly with each email, answered my ridiculous questions without missing a beat, and did a phenomenal job with the banner and organization of everything!  If you’re looking into a book tour of your own then definitely check out Reads and Reels services. I was far from disappointed, Shenanigans did an amazing job with my book. THANK YOU R&R!!

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Also, as always, there was a GIVEAWAY! That’s right my friends, three Amazon gifted Kindle copies of Search For Maylee was thrown into a Rafflecopter, and this morning the names were drawn!!!!  Thanks everyone who put in!

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And the winners are

….. more drumrolls …..

Shantel Rummel Gibson

Esperanza Gailiard

Sharon Extine


Last but not least… If you’re yet to check out Search For Maylee then here’s a little info:


Since Maylee was abducted from her high school the very month of graduation, her Aunt Autumn has never lost hope in finding her. It’s been three years. Autumn has finally reached inside herself and found the courage to track down an old lead. She moves across the country to find him. Will Autumn be able to pry Maylee’s case back open? More importantly, what will Autumn uncover in the process of searching for Maylee? It’s a cold dark world we live in, and she is about to find out just how cruel it can be. Strength and determination are on Autumn’s side and she will do what ever it takes.


Halloween Reading, Flash Sale! #excerpt #99cents

Wow, what a week it’s been!  I’ve put so much time into marketing my new release Search For Maylee that I’ve completely neglected my previous books, which is absolutely silly right now because I write thrillers, and its the month of HALLOWEEN!!!

SO, in light of my neglectful selfishness in terms of the slasher book I published last year, I’ve marked it down to $.99!! It’s bloody, gory, intense, psychologically twisted, and just straight up disgusting… Perfect for the season, I can’t believe it’s taken me halfway into the month to mark the price down for Halloween.  Talk about being distracted! lol


Standing next to Kam, peering across the street and into their home, I can clearly see her mutilated body.  Their front doors are French, and opened wide, allowing a perfect view into their once tidy entryway.  The always bleached white floors and walls are completely covered in scarlet splatters and pools of blood. That must have been exactly where the attack had taken place. Right inside the front door, for God’s sake. I can only imagine her killer’s tactic, pushing his way in as she greeted him with an innocent welcome. Sick. Disgusting. This is completely unfathomable.  

The once full of life girl is slumped backwards over a small round decorative table.  Her legs are bare, and full of slashes.  A slow steady drip is still running down her arms and escaping to the floor from her fingertips.  Clinging to her body are the remnants of a spaghetti strap tank top, and short pajama bottoms.  I can’t even tell their original color.  My mind wanders briefly away from the present.  I picture those pj’s being a lovely shade of green, and the smile on her face is genuine.  

The thought lasts only a second before my mind snaps back to reality.  Like a rubber band pulling itself into place, my head twitches and my lips let out a frightened gasp.  Breanna must have been relaxing comfortably in what should have been a safe home. Bile rises from my stomach, and into my throat.  I swallow it, and continue to stare.  I am unable to look away. Unable to process.  

Just like Beth was, every inch of her is stained in thick red fluid.  This killer is bleeding them out.  Every drop of life drained from his victims.  It is vicious, and it is personal. I look closer. There’s a shine on her chest.  It reflects light from the bright police LED lights placed a few feet away from her.  Something is resting around her neck.  Small and gold.  I wonder how it is possible that she actually has jewelry on that could still hold a shine.  How is there no blood on the top of her necklace?  


Not everything is as it seems in what appears to be an average family. When danger lurks so close to home, skeletons emerge, and the darkest of secrets surface, causing twisted desires to become reality. Aggravated Momentum offers the perspective of some very diverse and unique characters, including fun, witty personalities to fall in love with, along with an intellectual killer to die for. You may be surprised as to whom exactly you can relate. Is it the cold, calculated murderer, who’s name is yet to be revealed? Markie or Kam, the independent sisters, guilty of nothing more than getting tangled with the wrong people at the most inopportune times? Or, the cowardly snake curled in a hidden corner? Who are you, exactly? And, more importantly, who are they? The deeper you dig into the psyche of another, the more breath taking are the secrets you will find.


Supporting Your Partner’s Writing

Writing is possibly the most time consuming obsession one can have. Novels don’t happen over night, books aren’t read in ten minute sittings, and perfecting such a craft can’t be done in random spurts. When I first started in on writing books, it was a mere hobby meant to distract my mind from current health troubles and hardships. It worked, it helped, but it also opened a Pandora of life consumptive goals and aspirations that were inevitably a complete game changer.

And in turn, changed my husbands lifestyle aswel!

It’s funny how that works out. As people change and grow, they kind of force those closest to them to adapt right alongside. It’s kind of like a do or die sort of thing. Couples tend to advance together, get stuck and grow stagnant together, or grow apart. I was following some relationship advice from Savannah Esposito in her mind blowing magazine column. One of them particularly struck a cord, because I was able to relate so deeply in terms of my writing development and the support needed from my husband to actually follow through.

In her article The Five Stages Of Love: Why Most People Give Up Around Stage Three Savannah explains how relationships go through the questioning each other, comparing yourselves to other couples, and even getting annoyed at the things you once loved about one another.

I think my husband and I entered this phase right about the time I was staring my third novel. He wanted to see me succeed, and he loved that I showed such dedication and passion to write, yet he really struggled with the time I had to put in. My writing career was transforming into just that…. A career rather than a hobby... We were changing as a couple, as parents, and as individuals. Getting through this phase in our relationship was crucial, as well as getting past that self-questioning phase in writing. LUCKILY, love and persistence prevailed for my husband and I as a team. We got through it, and are now in a new place. I take the time needed to write, AND I take the breaks needed to show him that my family is the most important thing. He supports me and is patient even when it’s a struggle because we’re a team. Even after eight years of marriage, seven miscarriages, and four books written, we’re still in love.

No relationship is perfect, and anyone who has ever loved a writer, knows that it isn’t always easy!!  Writers are often distracted in thought (note how casually I say distracted HAHAHA, hello understatement!)  We’re also often so consumed in a project that we don’t realize just how many hours are spent neglecting our loved ones. Finding balance in time is all a part of the struggle.


After reading Savannah’s article, I just had to read the next one in relation to love. I was just as touch by The Five Love Languages as I had been the previous one about love phases.

As a writer, the first two languages really shouted at me. Savannah explains that the first love language is all about how we talk to each other.  After reading this I’ve thought back to all the positive things my husband has complimented on in terms of my writing, and realized in hindsight what a difference it really did make in times of struggle!

The second language she talks about is quality time. I think as a writer this one especially strikes a familiar tune.  I’ve officially made it a goal to put my projects aside a little more often. Family does come first, and I need to show my husband and kids that I understand and appreciate this fact!

Check out Savannah’s articles that I’ve linked in friends!  I’m confident that you’ll take as much out of them as I have!


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Now Available for Pre-Order! Search For Maylee! (My latest and Greatest!)

Only five more days until release!!  Can’t Freaking Wait!


“Howdy then, ma’am, I’m Jeremy.”

It was a very informal introduction yet he insisted on shaking her hand. His palm was big and his fingers were slightly calloused. A heavy free hand slapped her on the shoulder causing her entire body to jolt. He seemed like a very outgoing young man. A few husky voices rang in from behind him. Autumn could hear a couple of men laughing and joking in the background. It actually sounded like they were having a blast. She couldn’t quite make out their jokes or comments, but it wasn’t from lack of trying. A listening ear strained to make out their words.

Autumn tried, without success, to recall the last time she was able to laugh so freely.  Even with her friends, witty conversation and playful banter had been forced since the loss of Maylee. The lighthearted beam that Autumn used to carry with her everywhere, was now nothing more than a distant flicker.

It existed somewhere, but she was unable to actually grasp it tight enough to hang on for more than a few seconds at a time. Every time that lighthearted twinkle returned to her eyes, or a gleeful fire began to build in her chest, it was quickly distinguished with grief. Washed away before anything more than a spark could ignite. But, at least there was hope. Autumn was here for a reason and maybe someday she could get that light back.

Jeremy must have noticed her distraction by his guests because he tilted his head to the side, leaned into her personal space, and made a fully conscious effort to engage her in eye contact. That attractive crease in his cheek returned with the questioning grin he threw at her. Embarrassed butterflies escaped Autumn’s chest and a lump formed in her throat.

“Care to join?”  He asked, pointing over his tall shoulder with a large outstretched thumb. “I’ve got a few friends over. We just finished up a barbeque. I’m sure there’s a burger left if you’re hungry?”

“Oh no.” was her very quick response.

Autumn couldn’t possibly impose on a party of strangers. The pull of her tired eyelids were nagging at her to get settled for the night, and she couldn’t help but to notice there wasn’t a female voice to be heard. This entire situation had danger written all over it. If there was one quality Autumn truly admired about herself it was a keen sense of reserved caution. After all, you’re nothing if not safe.

After declining the drink to go along with the already turned down burger that her stomach was very loudly cursing her for, Autumn again asked for help. Jeremy shouted over his shoulder toward the kitchen causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

“Hey guys,” he yelled at his guests without taking his eyes off of her. The smile he had remained intact.  “I’ve got a quick job to do for a tenant, wanna’ help?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in fear, her feet shifted nervously beneath her, and she struggled to find words. “I. Um. I can find someone else, really.” She hesitated.

Jeremy leaned forward and whispered, so that no one else could hear.

“They really only look scary, and they might smell, but they’re harmless, I assure you.” He said with a wink.

The three men that entered the room caused Autumn’s mouth to open, just a crack, and her shoulders to lower with the air that escaped her. An awkward rush of defeat crawled up her legs and stopped in her neck, threatening to drain the very life from her. The first man in sight was clearly older than Jeremy, by at least five years – was her guess.

He appeared to nearly double Jeremy in weight, and not the unhealthy kind either. There wasn’t an ounce of blubber to be found, only the thick hard kind of weight that most men only dream of developing. His hair was light, short, and squared off in a boxy type cut that had a weird way of making the muscles between his neck and shoulders look even bigger. A superman symbol was tattooed on his neck, just above the collarbone. It was the first tattoo Autumn noticed but definitely not the only one in the room.

Two more men emerged from behind the giant. One looked a lot like Jeremy, with the same smile and an identical crease below the cheekbone. It wasn’t really a dimple so much as a handsome dip of the skin, or a glorified wrinkle in the perfect spot.
The third man was much skinnier than the others. He was obviously no slouch in the muscular department, but his build wasn’t nearly as stuffed. A full sleeve of tattoos’ covered one arm and the other held a permanently detailed portrait of a winged angel, with dark hair and a perfect bikini body. Autumn pictured him to be more of a spotter in the gym, only there to elevate his heart rate and assist the others in their workout. She had a brief mental image of his tattooed arms working up a sweat as he tried to lift a dumb-bell that the human machine before him had set aside with ease.

Autumn cautiously inched a step back onto the sidewalk, hopping they wouldn’t notice her movement. She was at least a foot away from the door, just in case she needed to run for dear life. There was plenty of distance between her and them, and she was a fast runner. Very fast. She hadn’t spent the last three years of her life scaling the beach at an abnormal pace to be rendered a slow runner. Prepared to sprint, she waited for Jeremy’s introduction and gawked at the raw manpower that came in the form of his friends, and most likely brother.

“Guys, this is Autumn.”  Jeremy casually tossed his head in her direction, as if he’d known her for years. “She needs help moving her stuff into her new apartment.”

Autumn cleared her throat to speak, but it didn’t help, she was still unable. All that could be forced was a nod, and the sheer will not to pee her pants right there on the spot. A realization that these men were soon to know exactly where she lived, settled deep inside her. They would also be privileged to the in’s and out’s of literally every item she owned. Every. Single. One. The thought of her underwear drawer that just so happened to be sitting to the side of her dismantled dressers forced a blush.

They all stood there and stared at her for a minute. Autumn didn’t really know what to say or do, so she just fiddled with the bottom seam of her shirt and let them take in the sight of her. It was a little embarrassing and uncomfortable. Jeremy looked back and forth between her and his friends. He was bewildered and fully aware of the inappropriate looks they were giving her.

Small nods and playful glances of approval were exchanged between them. The smallest of them turned to the biggest and muttered something under his breath. It was hard for her to tell for sure, but it sounded a lot like he may have said the word “milf.”

This is when Autumn finally let out the breath of initial shock she’d been holding in. She dramatically forced the air out in a long drawn out groan, assisted with a dramatic eye roll. These sketchy looking men weren’t a threat at all. They were nothing more than a few harmless drunken fools acting like horny teenage boys. There wasn’t a hint of unkind intention on any of their faces, nor was there any sign of callous in their growing smiles. Jeremy chuckled a little at her reaction of them.

“What’s wrong guys?  Haven’t you ever seen an attractive older woman with a tan?”
Older, he said older. What the hell did he mean by older? She wondered. Forty one really wasn’t that old, although her constant anxiety made her feel at least sixty.




Since Maylee was abducted from her high school the very month of graduation, her Aunt Autumn has never lost hope in finding her. It’s been three years. Autumn has finally reached inside herself and found the courage to track down an old lead. She moves across the country to find him. Will Autumn be able to pry Maylee’s case back open? More importantly, what will Autumn uncover in the process of searching for Maylee? It’s a cold dark world we live in, and she is about to find out just how cruel it can be. Strength and determination are on Autumn’s side and she will do what ever it takes.

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Blog Tour: Fender, by Brent Jones #Review #giveaway

Author: Brent Jones

Publication Date: August 21, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Fiction/ Drama


How far must we travel to find our way home?

Nothing could have prepared Brennan Glover for the car crash that claimed the lives of his wife and six-year-old daughter. Stricken with grief, the only things that get him through each day are breaking his sobriety and clinging to Fender—the family dog and the sole survivor of the crash.

Desperate to distance Brennan from tragedy, his two closest friends take him on the cross-country road trip they had always talked about. But what begins as an effort to mend his broken heart ends up unraveling a secret that changes everything he thought he knew about his family. Can a journey of six thousand miles lead Brennan to acceptance and new beginnings?

From finding the good in an often cruel world to learning to say goodbye to those we love most, this sophomore release from author Brent Jones is sure to leave readers longing for home, wherever that may be.

Add to Goodreads

Also available at Barnes and Noble


4 of 5 stars

Fender really has a real heartstring puller of a plot line. It shines a certain light on the grieving process that in my opinion really should be pointed out more often. Loosing loved ones unexpectedly is an extremely rough road and this book puts the realities of such hardship front and center for the world to see. Nothing is sugar coated about this book which I love. The emotions felt are raw and the way the main character copes with the loss of his wife and child are likely. One thing that gives this book it’s own unique twist, setting it apart from the run of the mill grieving husband tale is his dog, Fender.

Brennan has an alcohol problem. It started in his early twenties when his best friend committed suicide and Brennan blamed himself for the tragedy. It was during one of his drunken nights, slurring and blacking out that he came across Fender. He found the Beagle hiding under a car in a rainstorm. Brennan wound up keeping the dog and over time, Fender helped him to cope with the death of his friend. Through thick and thin Fender is there for him. As Brennan’s wife neared the birth of their child, she tried talking Brennan into getting rid of Fender. Luckily he stuck to his guns and kept the pup because little did he know his life will take another turn for the worst in the years to come and it’s Fender then will help him through.

Days after the funeral of Brennan’s wife and six year old daughter (they were in a car accident), Brennan’s two best friends Rocco and Franky talk him into going with them on a road trip to help him heal and cope. Brennan had quit drinking while his wife was pregnant with his daughter, and when they passed away he fell off the wagon. The road trip is full of ups and downs while tries to wrap his head and heart around the loss of his loved ones, all the while battling his pull to drink. He insisted on bringing Fender along for the drive, refusing to leave him behind.

I love the way the story bounces back and forth between past and present. Brent Jones is able to reveal the character’s marriage and family life along the way, as if reflecting it all as Brennan’s memories while enduring the grieving process. Brennan didn’t exactly have an easy upbringing or the perfect experience with his in-laws. It was actually quite the opposite. It’s his unique relationship with his loyal companion Fender that helps bring him clarity.

This book is a bit of a slow burn, and sad… Very, very sad. From cover to cover, every single time I sat down to read I wound up crying!! I definitely recommend it to anyone grieving the loss of a loved one!

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About the Author:

From bad checks to bathroom graffiti, Brent Jones has always been drawn to writing. He won a national creative writing competition at the age of fourteen, although he can’t recall what the story was about. Seventeen years later, he gave up his freelance career as a social media manager to pursue creative writing full-time. Fender and The Fifteenth of June are his first two novels.

Jones writes from his home in Fort Erie, Canada. He’s happily married, a bearded cyclist, a mediocre guitarist, (sometimes) vegetarian, and the proud owner of two dogs with a God complex. Subscribe to his newsletter ( or follow him on social media (@AuthorBrentJ) for updates.


Brennan sat on the living room floor staring at his polished shoes, his back pressed against the leather sofa, a bottle of Jim Beam in his left hand, a lit cigarette in his right. Traces of afternoon sun peeked through lush drapes, adding a hint of color to an otherwise dark and empty room. He tilted the bottle back and flicked ash in an empty drinking glass between his legs, trickles of silver smoke rising up past his face. He was too stricken with grief to hear the front door open.

“You here, Bee?” Rocco entered with Franky in tow. He lowered his head, taking in the scene before him. “We’re so sorry.” He offered Brennan a sympathetic frown, his forehead wrinkled with worry. “How’re you holding up?”

Brennan flicked more ash in the drinking glass without responding.

Rocco let out a deep breath, added, “It was a beautiful service.”

Brennan kept his head down, making no effort to suggest he had heard Rocco.

“Should we come back later?”

“It’s all right if you wanna be alone,” said Franky.

Brennan raised his eyes with pronounced difficulty. He was immediately turned off by their concern, which looked a lot to him like judgment and shame. Rocco, evidently concerned about his drinking, and Franky, concerned because Rocco was concerned. “Go ahead,” said Brennan. “Say it.”

“Say what?” asked Rocco, exchanging a glance with Franky.

Brennan dropped his cigarette in the glass, raised the Jim Beam to his lips. “Say I shouldn’t be drinking again.”

“What you’re going through right now, Bee, I understand—”

“Oh, you always understand, Rocco. Don’t you? Not thisss one, though. You fucking can’t. You didn’t loosh yer family.” Brennan could hear himself slurring.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“He’s saying he’d be fucked up, too,” Franky chimed in. “That’s all.”

Brennan hadn’t taken a drink since the day his daughter was born—hadn’t smoked a cigarette since that day, either—and he knew drinking himself senseless was no way to honor her memory. Just this one time, he had told himself. I need this today. But so far, it had brought him no peace. It only heightened his sense of hopelessness.

A faint jingle echoed down the hallway, getting closer, a senior beagle with a limp and fresh stitches emerging at last. Franky knelt down, extended his hands. “Fender,” he said in a singsong voice, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Who’s a good boy, Fender? Who’s a good boy?”

Fender parked himself at Franky’s feet—not out of obedience or affection, but sheer exhaustion. He was normally playful and energetic—even at twelve years old—and never allowed anyone to enter the house without barking to alert his humans. But at that moment he whimpered, sullen and subdued, rubbing his snout against Franky’s leg.

“When’s the last time he ate?” Rocco asked.

Brennan shook his head.

Rocco motioned to Franky. “Why don’t you take Fender out for a bathroom break? Maybe fill up his food and water bowls, too.”

Franky nodded and Fender followed him out of the room.

Rocco sat on the floor next to Brennan. “Listen, Bee, I get that this is tough.”

Brennan rubbed his temples and said nothing. He was a sensitive man, emotional, fragile at times, and now near speechless. He could almost feel himself shutting down, giving in to the pain, letting go of the world. It felt like he was drowning in a sea of sorrow, violent waves of grief washing over him, and he was losing the will to keep his head above water.

Rocco touched Brennan’s shoulder. “Me and Franky want to take you away for a little bit. It’d do you good.”


“Yeah.” Rocco motioned to the Jim Beam. “I think now’s good. You’ve been outta work for a couple months. I’ve got vacation time saved up at the office, and Franky can walk away from roofing anytime. We were thinking of taking that trip to California we’d always talked about.”

“We talked ’bout ’at shit when wurrr kidsss.”

“Yeah, I get that, but we could still do it. We’d make a road trip out of it, just like you, me, Franky, and Colin—” Rocco winced, having unintentionally drudged up the past.

“My family was just kilt in a car crasssh,” said Brennan. “And you think the best place furr me ish out on the open road?”

Rocco nodded. “I do, Bee. You need to get away and clear your head.”

Brennan listened without speaking, his line of sight again lowered toward his shoes. Tears spilled down his cheeks.

“You can’t stay here by yourself. It’s—it’s too much. It’s too much for anyone to have to handle.” Rocco glanced at Brennan through narrowed and swollen eyes. “Our hearts are heavy, too, and we all need to grieve. But nothing good can come of you sitting here alone and drinking. You need something to take your mind off it.”

Franky returned a minute later. Fender hobbled behind him, his movements labored and graceless, his eyes wet and dark. He positioned himself near Brennan in slow motion. Fender was the last member of the Glover household to see Rosie and Abby alive, and the only survivor of the crash that killed them both.

“Did he eat?” asked Rocco, gesturing toward Fender.

“Not much.” Franky changed gears without blinking. “What’d he say?” He asked the question as if he and Rocco were alone in the room.

“Bee says he’s gonna think on it,” Rocco said, standing. He looked down at Brennan before walking out. “You will give it some thought, right? That’s all I’m asking.”

The house was quiet again, but Brennan was certain nothing could silence the storm in his heart. He ran his finger over the tattoo on his left shoulder through his shirt, as he often did during difficult times. He knew its intricacies by heart—the anniversary of Colin’s death inked in a simple script. He once thought losing his best friend had prepared him for anything life might throw his way, but now he knew better.

Author Links:

Website/ Blog:






3 digital copies of Fender (Mobi or Epub)

1 Print copy of Fender (Canadian/ U.S. Residents only)

1 Audio copy of Fender

*Note: Please be advised that all entries will be automatically subscribed to author’s newsletter


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Blog/Writer Worth Checking Out!!

Savannah with Millennial Mrs and Mom is a pretty awesomely talented gal!!  I’ve been posting some work from a few bloggers/fellow columnists at the The Conscious Talk Mag  since yesterday. You guys, this magazine just keeps getting better and better. I absolutely love being a part of it!  The talent of writers is phenomenal, and it’s so great to be blogging buddies with them as well! So exciting!

Here is the start to one of Savannah’s articles. It’s exceptional!!

****Parenting comes in all shapes and sizes and each parent has their own strategy, that they think is best in raising their children. In the world of psychology, there are four distinct parenting styles that were identified by Diana Baumrind back in the 1960’s. The first style is authoritarian, which is a style in which parents behave in a controlling manner, hoping to guide their children in the right direction. Usually, authoritarian households have lots of rules that are to be followed and not questioned. Authoritarian parents make power dynamics clear, establishing they are the parent and the child is the child.****



$25 Amazon Winner! #FollowFive #AwesomeAmazonAuthors

Congratulations Virginia W.!!!  You’re the big winner winner of our #FollowFive Giveaway. Thank you everyone who followed us on Instagram, you’re awesome!

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Flash Sale! The Suspenseful Collection $.99

Kim and I have a lot to celebrate, so we decided to mark down the price to our short story collection so that our readers can celebrate with us!!  Between the up and coming release of my new novel Search For Maylee, Kim’s nomination for best romance of 2017 for A Stranger In France, and our new magazine writing adventure with The Conscious Talk Mag, we can’t help but to raise our glasses!

So if you wish to celebrate with us, please enjoy our short story collection for the dropped price while it lasts!  Enjoy!


For Mature Readers Only:

A suspenseful novel with a twist. Eight short stories, by two suspense authors, from diverse backgrounds. From opposite sides of the Atlantic these stories have been created. One author started the tale and the other ended it. No discussion, no pre-planning, but yet their stories are seamless. With just creativity and the use of writing prompts, to craft one tale, with two different writers. This anthology of suspenseful, fast paced and engaging tales covers multiple genres. From heart felt romance, crime, fantasy, and steamy historical fiction. There is a story for everyone!

Steamy Historical Crime Fiction: It was The First Time I Killed A Man.

It’s 1972 and New York’s first female serial killer Lisa Vanacilli is in the hot seat again, ten years after her conviction of murder to the first degree and innocent plea. The ruthless but sexy reporter Tiffany Low cracks Lisa for a confession… at a price. Lisa is strong, courageous and says it how it is. This story has been extended due to reader’s demand. And is only for adult readers.

Psychological Fiction: Every Time I Hear That Voice From The Basement.

George appears to be harmless. The local neighbourhood geek on the outside, married to Jolene. In reality, he’s a very disturbed man. His path crosses with Dana, the local check out girl. This is a psychological suspense story with a twist.

Crime Fiction: The Entrance To The Tunnel Is His Only Way Out.

Juan is a wanted man, and an ex-gang member on the run from Atlanta to Mexico. With a hundred grand in cash stolen from his ex-boss, he meets an unlikely fate in Mexico. A fast-paced crime fiction story.

Contemporary Romance: When His Hands Run Up My Thighs I…

Love has no time limit, age limit or use by date. Sarah now in her fifties is reunited with her long-lost love Joshua. They last had contact in 1961. In the present day, thanks to the advancement of technology their paths cross. A heart-warming and modern tale, about long distance love, that will leave you warm inside.

Suspense: We Only Said Goodbye With Words, I Died A Hundred Times:

In 1963 Russian Femme Fatale Mila Petrov is London’s top Madam. Her entertainment house is booming, she has a team of London’s strongest women behind her. Unfinished business from her past creeps up and haunts her. It’s nothing she can’t handle. A suspenseful historical tale, with a strong femme fatale.

Fantasy: The Ones Who Live At The Bottom Of The Ocean, Come To The Surface.

A beautiful coming of age story, featuring sixteen year old Zoe and her mother May-Li. Myth becomes reality, as Zoe finds out who and what she really is. Her mixed descent reveals more than what meets the eye. This fantasy story is set against the backdrop of a Greek island and Hong Kong, China.

Suspenseful Crime Fiction: Guilty As Charged, In Self-Defence

California’s sassy, tough, and likeable defence lawyer Catherine has taken on a case so high profile, if she wins she’ll become a partner of Martin Law Firm. Defending forty six year old Mrs. Chevelle. An ex Las Vegas show girl, now a Hollywood wife, on trial for the murder of her high-profile husband. She claims she’s innocent. Readers are taken on a fast -paced journey on a mission to seek the truth.

Contemporary Fiction: It’s A Man’s Man’s World:

A beautiful modern tale showing the love and appreciation of a woman. James Brown said it right when he said, “it’s a man’s man’s world, but it would mean nothing without a woman or a girl.”

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