New Book Releases: Week of March 3, 2019

There are a ton of new books releasing the first week of March!

Check out some new releases below.

What new releases are you looking forward to reading?

Queen's Shadow

by E.K. Johnston

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Superman: Dawnbreaker

by Matt De La Pena

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

____________________

A Question of Holmes

Series: Charlotte Holmes #4

by Brittany Cavallaro

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The Shadow Glass

Series: The Bone Witch #3

by Rin Chupeco

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The Everlasting Rose

Series: The Belles #2

by Dhonielle Clayton

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The Queen's Resistance

Series: The Queen's Rising #2

by Rebecca Ross

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Opposite of Always

by Justin A. Reynolds

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Field Notes On Love

by Jennifer E. Smith

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Chrysalis

Series: Project Nemesis #3

by Brendan Reichs

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Lovely War

by Julie Berry

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Dealing In Dreams

by Lilliam Rivera

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Within These Lines

by Stephanie Morrill

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

If You're Out There

by Katy Loutzenhiser

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

You Owe Me A Murder

by Eileen Cook

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The Pioneer

by Bridget Tyler

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Daisy Jones & The Six

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Beautiful Bad

by Annie Ward

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Gingerbread

by Helen Oyeyemi

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Call Me Evie

by J.P. Pomare

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The Last Woman In The Forest

by Diane Les Becquets

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The Island of Sea Women

by Lisa See

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

The River

by Peter Heller

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Girl, Stop Apologizing

by Rachel Hollis

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Outer Order, Inner Calm

by Gretchen Rubin

Publication Date: March 5, 2019

_____________________

Follow Me on Social Media

Subscribe to Tara's Book Addiction for Post Updates

Enter your email address:


Delivered by FeedBurner

Blog Tour: Death By The River by Alexandrea Weis and Lucas Astor ~Review & Giveaway~

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for Death By The River by Alexandrea Weis and Lucas Astor!

Death By The River
by Alexandrea Weis and Lucas Astor
Publication Date: October 2, 2018
by Vesuvian Books

Synopsis:

Some truths are better kept secret.
Some secrets are better off dead.

Along the banks of the Bogue Falaya River, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river.
And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux.

The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Handsome. Charming. Intelligent. The star quarterback of the football team. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch.

He is also a psychopath.

A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the ruined St. Francis Abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize.

As the victim toll mounts, it becomes crystal clear that someone has to stop Beau Devereaux.

And that someone will pay with their life.

WARNING: Readers of Death by the River will encounter situations of violence and sexual abuse which could be upsetting.

AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | BOOK DEPOSITORY

Praise for DEATH BY THE RIVER

"... a thrilling psychological work ... Catching the current vogue of teen psycho and revenge tales like Bates Motel and 13 Reasons Why ... a horrifically brilliant book ... Beau Devereaux could have easily been a clichéd psycho, but the plot constructed around him and his development during the novel really shone as a masterpiece of character creation ... much in the style of Dexter or Hannibal." ―K.C. Finn, Multi-Award-Winning Author 

"Rare is the story that simmers and rises to a boil so naturally and constantly that the reader manages to be repeatedly shocked ... a full-speed rollercoaster that doesn't slow down until the final page. Employing an evocative setting, powerfully defined characters, and taking along hard look at the darker side of human desire, this novel will catch your breath and hold it until the very end. RECOMMENDED" ―Michael Radon, US Review

"While the authors have written a chilling story here, there's more to Death by the River than thrills. It's actually a fascinating study into the effects of good and bad parenting on children. Do it badly and parents, children and society as a whole pay the consequences. This book is not just an exciting read; it's a sobering one." ―Viga Boland, Retired high school English teacher and Author of No Tears for my Father: Viga's true story of incest 

"While the story follows compelling characters, it also plunges readers into an intriguing setting. It is ironical that the horrors are taking place along the river that runs so close to a seminary, an establishment that should evoke a powerful sense of God and reverence for life. The characters are sophisticated and readers will learn to honestly hate the villain of the story -- he is well imagined and developed with skill. In a subtle way, the authors allow his crooked mind to reveal itself. Like most serial killers, he is a charmer and an intelligent young man, but beneath the cool surface is a cauldron of simmering evil. Weis and Astor have written a riveting crime tale with strong psychological underpinnings. Death by the River is ingeniously plotted, written in gorgeous prose, and featuring a strong conflict that propels the narrative forward. The suspense intensifies as the story moves on, with the reader always feeling as though something awful could happen at any moment, and this feeling grows in intensity until the explosive climax. A real thriller!" ―Romuald Dzemo, Readers' Favorite

"A suspense-filled thriller steeped in equal parts atmosphere, insanity, and revenge." ―Mary Ting, Award-Winning Author of ISAN: International Sensory Assassin Network

"Weis and Astor have created something so dark, edgy, and gritty, it will stay with you long after you close the book." ―Julieanne Lynch, Dragon Award Finalist: Horror (2018) 

"... a crime thriller that pulls readers into the twisted mind of the protagonist and holds them engaged till the exhilarating finish. The writing is flawless ... Death by the River is psychologically engaging, emotionally rich, and utterly absorbing." ―Christian Sia

About the Authors

Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, CRRN, ONC, PhD, is a multi award-winning author of over twenty-five novels, a screenwriter, ICU Nurse, and historian who was born and raised in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Having grown up in the motion picture industry as the daughter of a director, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable. A permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries, Weis rescues orphaned and injured animals. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans. Weis writes paranormal, suspense, thrillers, horror, crime fiction, and romance.

Lucas Astor, Lucas Astor is from New York, has resided in Central America and the Middle East, and traveled through Europe. He lives a very private, virtually reclusive lifestyle, preferring to spend time with a close-knit group of friends than be in the spotlight. He is an author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but right next door behind a smiling face.

Weis and Astor’s first collaboration was the multi-award-winning Magnus Blackwell Series.

PHOTO CONTENT FROM ALEXANDREA WEIS AND LUCAS ASTOR

WEBSITE │TWITTER │GOODREADS │FACEBOOK │INSTAGRAM

Review

I knew I wanted to read this book after I read the synopsis.  It just seemed like a story I would find interesting, and I was not let down.  This book was dark and chilling, and definitely held my interest.  The story contains disturbing situations that at times were uncomfortable to read about (content warning for rape and violence), and even though this book is set in high school, it contains adult subject matter, and some very intense moments.

The story is told from several points of view: Beau Devereaux, who seems like a handsome and wonderful guy on the outside, the star quarterback and caring boyfriend, but he really is a cunning psychopath intent on harming others; Dawn, who is Beau's caring girlfriend, taken with his charm and intellect, but unaware of his true nature; and Leslie, who is Dawn's sister and Beau's deadly obsession.  

Beau was definitely a character that I despised.  He was pompous, sadistic, and cruel, and I really did not like reading from his point of view.  Leslie was a strong character, who saw the true nature of Beau, unlike her naive sister.  Dawn was a very insecure character who would cling to Beau, afraid to lose him, even though she had doubts about their relationship.  These were all very different characters and it was interesting to read from each of their perspectives.    

There are twists in this book that I didn't see coming and I was shocked by the ending.  This was a really chilling story and I'd recommend this book for anyone looking for a thrilling and engrossing read.      

⭐⭐⭐⭐

*I received a copy of this book for review.  All thoughts and opinions are my own.  Thank you to the authors, Vesuvian Books, and Jean Book Nerd.

Book Trailer

  

Giveaway

--Giveaway is open to International. | Must be 13+ to Enter

-  2 Winners will receive a $25 Amazon Gift Card.

Ends November 12, 2018

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Follow the Tour

Click here to follow the Tour!

Nerd Blast: The Lantern's Ember by Colleen Houck ~Excerpt + Giveaway~

The Lantern's Ember
by Colleen Houck
Publication Date: September 11, 2018
by Delacorte Press

Synopsis:

Welcome to a world where nightmarish creatures reign supreme.

Five hundred years ago, Jack made a deal with the devil. It’s difficult for him to remember much about his mortal days. So, he focuses on fulfilling his sentence as a Lantern—one of the watchmen who guard the portals to the Otherworld, a realm crawling with every nightmarish creature imaginable. Jack has spent centuries jumping from town to town, ensuring that nary a mortal—or not-so-mortal—soul slips past him. That is, until he meets beautiful Ember O’Dare.

Seventeen, stubborn, and a natural-born witch, Ember feels a strong pull to the Otherworld. Undeterred by Jack’s warnings, she crosses into the forbidden plane with the help of a mysterious and debonair vampire—and the chase through a dazzling, dangerous world is on. Jack must do everything in his power to get Ember back where she belongs before both the earthly and unearthly worlds descend into chaos.

 AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | BOOK DEPOSITORY

Praise for THE LANTERN'S EMBER

"[Houck] offers a fresh spin on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow...with some genuine surprises in store." —Kirkus

"A wild and seductive adventure...a must-have for YA collections." —SLJ  

New York Times Bestselling author Colleen Houck is a lifelong reader whose literary interests include action, adventure, paranormal, science fiction, and romance. When she’s not busy writing, she likes to spend time chatting on the phone with one of her six siblings, watching plays, and shopping online. Colleen has lived in Arizona, Idaho, Utah, California, and North Carolina and is now permanently settled in Salem, Oregon with her husband and a huge assortment of plush tigers.  

PHOTO CONTENT FROM COLLEEN HOUCK

WEBSITE│TWITTER│GOODREADS│FACEBOOK│INSTAGRAM│PINTEREST

CHAPTER 1
CROSSROADS
Jack sat on top of the covered bridge in his favorite spot, his arm draped over his carved pumpkin. The gourd wasn’t his first choice to house the ember of his immortality, but then again, he’d never really been given a choice.
It wasn’t the first time he’d heard of foolish men who’d made deals with the devil. During every scary story he’d been told as a child on long winter nights, he’d clutched his covers to his throat imagining frightening specters, red demons, or wicked- clawed ghouls looming out of swaying shadows, ready to snatch up unmindful children and trick them with beguiling words. His imagination never came close to the truth. And he’d certainly never envisioned those devils walking earth as mere men, dressed as pirates, storing stolen souls in harvest vegetables. The devil who’d conscripted him five hundred years ago was named Rune. Jack barely remembered the town he was attempting to save by negotiating with Rune, or the boy he’d been when he’d done it. Now all the villagers were long dead. But not Jack. He wasn’t so lucky. Instead, Jack was stuck in a monotonous job, the same job Rune once had. And Jack had the pleasure of looking forward to another five hundred years of doing exactly the same thing day in and day out.
It wasn’t like the job was too difficult. It was mostly quiet, but when it wasn’t, he did everything from exporting entire herds of gremlins, to clearing caves full of werewolves, to capturing a flock of Otherworld bats. Jack had even done the highly dangerous job of evicting a nest of half- breed vampires from an underground necropolis, entirely on his own.
Admittedly, the swaggering pirate Rune had come to Jack’s aid a time or two, helping him avert what could have been disasters. But Jack quickly learned he didn’t appreciate how Rune handled mortals. Too many of them died or went insane under his care.
Eventually, Jack ended up at his current assignment, a quiet New England town called Hallowell that butted up against one of the most boring, sleepy crossroads in the entirety of the Otherworld. Rune had probably thought Jack would complain about the placement, but the town was pretty, if small. There were plenty of large oaks and maples, elms and dogwood trees to offer him shade during the day. And in the fall the colors were beautiful. There was something to be said for a quiet life.
It was lonely, but Jack was used to being alone.
He was about to summon his horse so he could ride through the forest while the red, orange, and yellow fall leaves rained down upon his head, when he heard a noise.
“Must you sit all the way up there?” Rune groused, emerging from the covered bridge and looking up at him. Smoke trailed in after the large man, pooling around his polished boots and caressing his ankles with long fingers. Stepping forward, Rune peeled off black leather gloves and stroked his short, boxed beard, shaved in thin lines and curls. “Someone could get past you before you could intervene. Besides, I hate craning my neck to have a conversation.”
Jack shrugged. “I like keeping my pumpkin far from the road, so there’s no risk it could get trampled on. Besides, I’d hear someone long before they got close.” Jack’s pumpkin never aged or decomposed, but it could be broken, and that made his soul vulnerable.
“Yes.” Rune fingered his firefly- shaped earring, a far better choice of vessels for a lantern to hide his ember than a fat orange gourd. He smiled up at Jack. The shaggy hair that slipped from his careless queue hung down to his shoulders, dark, except for a white streak that fell across his eyes. “I suppose, then, that’s a wise choice.”
“What do you want, Rune?” Jack asked.
“There’s been a rumor.”
“About?”
“Your town. It would seem a witch wind is blowing and it’s coming from your crossroad.”
“ It wasn’t like the job was too difficult. It was mostly quiet, but when it wasn’t, he did everything from exporting entire herds of gremlins, to clearing caves full of werewolves, to capturing a flock of Otherworld bats. Jack had even done the highly dangerous job of evicting a nest of half- breed vampires from an underground necropolis, entirely on his own.
Admittedly, the swaggering pirate Rune had come to Jack’s aid a time or two, helping him avert what could have been disasters. But Jack quickly learned he didn’t appreciate how Rune handled mortals. Too many of them died or went insane under his care.
Eventually, Jack ended up at his current assignment, a quiet New England town called Hallowell that butted up against one of the most boring, sleepy crossroads in the entirety of the Otherworld. Rune had probably thought Jack would complain about the placement, but the town was pretty, if small. There were plenty of large oaks and maples, elms and dogwood trees to offer him shade during the day. And in the fall the colors were beautiful. There was something to be said for a quiet life.
It was lonely, but Jack was used to being alone.
He was about to summon his horse so he could ride through the forest while the red, orange, and yellow fall leaves rained down upon his head, when he heard a noise. “Must you sit all the way up there?” Rune groused, emerging from the covered bridge and looking up at him. Smoke trailed in after the large man, pooling around his polished boots and caressing his ankles with long fingers. Stepping forward, Rune peeled off black leather gloves and stroked his short, boxed beard, shaved in thin lines and curls. “Someone could get past you before you could intervene. Besides, I hate craning my neck to have a conversation.”
Jack shrugged. “I like keeping my pumpkin far from the road, so there’s no risk it could get trampled on. Besides, I’d hear someone long before they got close.” Jack’s pumpkin never aged or decomposed, but it could be broken, and that made his soul vulnerable.
“Yes.” Rune fingered his firefly- shaped earring, a far better choice of vessels for a lantern to hide his ember than a fat orange gourd. He smiled up at Jack. The shaggy hair that slipped from his careless queue hung down to his shoulders, dark, except for a white streak that fell across his eyes. “I suppose, then, that’s a wise choice.”
“What do you want, Rune?” Jack asked.
“There’s been a rumor.”
“About?”
“Your town. It would seem a witch wind is blowing and it’s coming from your crossroad.”
“My crossroad?” Jack said, leaping down with his pumpkin and landing easily next to Rune, feeling thin and pale next to Rune’s sun- kissed tan and deep- V silk shirt. “Are you certain?”
All the lanterns were apprised when a witch wind blew. The Lord of the Otherworld gathered winds from the mortal world in a great funnel. Most of the time, the winds blowing through the crossroads were normal, but every so often, a special wind blew, indicating that a witch had grown strong enough not only to enter the Otherworld but to undo it completely. Unless the witch was captured and his or her energy contained, the Otherworld as they knew it could be destroyed. Only one witch was permitted in the Otherworld. She was trusted not just to avoid destroying it, but also to run it. She was the high witch, the Lord’s wife, and provider of all the magical energy in that realm. All others were a dreadful danger.
“There are whispers,” Rune insisted. “Whispers in the wind of a powerful witch. One much more skillful than any you or I have dealt with before.” Rune’s own light glowed brighter, his earring winking as his dark skin brightened showing the skeleton lying beneath.
Jack sighed. “You must be mistaken,” he said. “I’ve peered beneath the skin of every citizen of this town. There’s not a drop of witch blood among them.” He was relieved to be able to tell Rune the absolute truth for once. Hallowell was full of very content, happy mortals.
“It’s not that I’m doubting your abilities, Jack,” Rune said, giving him a meaningful look that made Jack wince. “I just need to verify it for myself. You understand.”
Jack waved his hand in resignation and Rune sent his firefly high above the town. It zipped back and forth, pausing occasionally while the lantern himself stared into space, seeing through the eye of his light. His eyes glowed with a silver sheen and then finally dimmed.
“Told you,” Jack said. “Do you think it’s possible she got the location wrong? You could tell the high witch to look again.”
“If a witch wind is blowing, you can be sure there’s a witch or warlock out there. Look, I’m just asking you to watch. Be on your guard. And, if you see something, let me know.” He clapped Jack on the back. “Don’t worry, son; if you can’t finish the job, I’ve always got your back.”
Jack frowned, bristling at the slight. “Fine. I’ll send word if I find any trace of a witch,” Jack said.
“You do that.”
Rune left and Jack was too distracted to head off on his morning ride after all. Jack sat thinking about how strange it was for a witch wind to blow in his territory three times. Most lanterns never even had it happen once, but he’d been there when witches were detected at both Roanoke and Salem. It didn’t make sense. Perhaps he was just terribly unlucky.
He was thinking about it all day as he walked the borders of the town, and into the evening as he settled down for the night on top of his bridge. The light flickered in his pumpkin and he turned it so he could trace the eyes with his fingertip. He’d long ago hollowed out the orange globe and carved a smiling face. His only companion on long days and even longer nights. It comforted him to see his ember’s glow in the pumpkin’s expression. The light warmed him, giving him hope that somehow, somewhere, there was a spark of freedom waiting for him, even if it was at the end of a very long, weary road.
Jack had just fallen asleep when he heard the thunder of hooves on the road leading to town. Summoning his black stallion, he leapt off the bridge and onto the monstrous horse’s back as it materialized from the Otherworld, nostrils steaming and eyes glowing with fire. The horse reared and Jack, with the pumpkin tucked beneath his arm, kicked the horse’s sides, and they galloped toward the road.
He stopped on the hill and saw a carriage, shiny and new, a fine pair of horses pulling it quickly down the path. Jack chose not to show himself, but sent a moaning wind that frightened the driver who glanced right and left and cracked his whip to make the team run faster.
Jack, the lantern, sat and watched as the carriage made its way to town. Just as it passed him, the curtain moved and a small, white face was lit by a moonbeam. It was a wide- eyed little girl, her brown hair curled in ringlets. She pressed her hands against the glass and her pink mouth opened in a circle as she stared right at him. All the lanterns were apprised when a witch wind blew. The Lord of the Otherworld gathered winds from the mortal world in a great funnel. Most of the time, the winds blowing through the crossroads were normal, but every so often, a special wind blew, indicating that a witch had grown strong enough not only to enter the Otherworld but to undo it completely. Unless the witch was captured and his or her energy contained, the Otherworld as they knew it could be destroyed. Only one witch was permitted in the Otherworld. She was trusted not just to avoid destroying it, but also to run it. She was the high witch, the Lord’s wife, and provider of all the magical energy in that realm. All others were a dreadful danger.
“There are whispers,” Rune insisted. “Whispers in the wind of a powerful witch. One much more skillful than any you or I have dealt with before.” Rune’s own light glowed brighter, his earring winking as his dark skin brightened showing the skeleton lying beneath.
Jack sighed. “You must be mistaken,” he said. “I’ve peered beneath the skin of every citizen of this town. There’s not a drop of witch blood among them.” He was relieved to be able to tell Rune the absolute truth for once. Hallowell was full of very content, happy mortals.
“It’s not that I’m doubting your abilities, Jack,” Rune said, giving him a meaningful look that made Jack wince. “I just need to verify it for myself. You understand.”
Jack waved his hand in resignation and Rune sent his firefly high above the town. It zipped back and forth, pausing occasionally while the lantern himself stared into space, seeing through the eye of his light. His eyes glowed with a silver sheen and then finally dimmed.
“Told you,” Jack said. “Do you think it’s possible she got the location wrong? You could tell the high witch to look again.”
“If a witch wind is blowing, you can be sure there’s a witch or warlock out there. Look, I’m just asking you to watch. Be on your guard. And, if you see something, let me know.” He clapped Jack on the back. “Don’t worry, son; if you can’t finish the job, I’ve always got your back.”
Jack frowned, bristling at the slight. “Fine. I’ll send word if I find any trace of a witch,” Jack said.
“You do that.”
Rune left and Jack was too distracted to head off on his morning ride after all. Jack sat thinking about how strange it was for a witch wind to blow in his territory three times. Most lanterns never even had it happen once, but he’d been there when witches were detected at both Roanoke and Salem. It didn’t make sense. Perhaps he was just terribly unlucky.
He was thinking about it all day as he walked the borders of the town, and into the evening as he settled down for the night on top of his bridge. The light flickered in his pumpkin and he turned it so he could trace the eyes with his fingertip. He’d long ago hollowed out the orange globe and carved a smiling face. His only companion on long days and even longer nights. It comforted him to see his ember’s glow in the pumpkin’s expression. The light warmed him, giving him hope that somehow, somewhere, there was a spark of freedom waiting for him, even if it was at the end of a very long, weary road.
Jack had just fallen asleep when he heard the thunder of hooves on the road leading to town. Summoning his black stallion, he leapt off the bridge and onto the monstrous horse’s back as it materialized from the Otherworld, nostrils steaming and eyes glowing with fire. The horse reared and Jack, with the pumpkin tucked beneath his arm, kicked the horse’s sides, and they galloped toward the road.
He stopped on the hill and saw a carriage, shiny and new, a fine pair of horses pulling it quickly down the path. Jack chose not to show himself, but sent a moaning wind that frightened the driver who glanced right and left and cracked his whip to make the team run faster.
Jack, the lantern, sat and watched as the carriage made its way to town. Just as it passed him, the curtain moved and a small, white face was lit by a moonbeam. It was a wide- eyed little girl, her brown hair curled in ringlets. She pressed her hands against the glass and her pink mouth opened in a circle as she stared right at him.
Copyright © 2018 by Colleen Houck

--Giveaway is open to International. | Must be 13+ to Enter

- 5 Winners will receive a Copy of THE LANTERN'S EMBER by Colleen Houck

ENDS: NOVEMBER 5, 2018

a Rafflecopter giveaway