Hope. Dreams. Life... Love: Not A Chance

Monday, October 22, 2018

Not A Chance

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Maureen L. Bonatch will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The last thing Hope Hallows wants is to become the latest headline. Living in a town that likes secrets, she prefers to keep hers hidden. Avoiding a nosy reporter’s questions about her ability to infuse euphoria or despair with a single touch, and those who crave this bliss, is nothing new. But having her brother’s annoying girlfriend, Berta, go missing is—especially when it makes Hope suspect number one.

As a triplet, her resemblance to her beloved dead sister causes her family to grieve even more, and her escalating supernatural skills makes Griffith, her half-human-half-Oppressor boyfriend, wary. He wants to put his unsavory past behind him—this could include Hope—since her abilities remind him of the Underworld.

In her desperate search to find Berta, she stumbles across a tunnel. Phantom voices within whisper that evil has been waiting for a new leader—and isn't she lucky, they've chosen Hope.

Read an excerpt:

Too many times in my life I was assumed guilty until I proved my innocence. This wouldn’t be one of those times. Disliking Berta wasn’t a crime and neither was going on a bike ride. It figures the first time I try to be nice to her it stirred up more trouble than all the times I was rude. “The last time I saw Berta was when she and I went on a bike ride. I’ve done nothing that would require me to visit the police station. I’m starting to think you have something against me personally.”

The officer scowled, as if he sensed my shift in control and was none too happy about losing the upper hand. “I told you before, we stick together in this town. You claim you returned to be with your family, but since you arrived things have changed. People are disappearing, not just vagrants or others passing through, but townies.”

I lifted my chin. No matter how long I lived here, or how many of my family members did, I’d never be considered a townie. Not in this town.

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