🌟 BOOK BLITZ 🌟 The Christmas Spirit by Alexandrea Weis {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}

The Christmas Spirit by Alexandrea Weis

Release Date: October 27th 2020 by Rosewind Books

Pages: 230

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

SOMETIMES IT TAKES ONE BROKEN HEART TO HEAL ANOTHER.

Courtney Winston is a writer on a deadline. Eager to finish her book and get over a recent break-up, she ditches Christmas with her family and retreats to a secluded cabin in the mountains.

Appliances rarely work, and cell service is spotty, but Courtney senses there is more to her rustic rental—something dark and haunting.

Then Peter, the attractive Stone Mountain Lodge owner, and a meddling cook, Mrs. Finn, keep coming around, shattering her peace and offering advice on how to fix her heavy heart.

Courtney grows closer to Peter, but Mrs. Finn warns her of his troubled past. Undaunted, Courtney sets out to win him over. But being with the brooding stranger may end up costing her more than she ever imagined.

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{EXCERPT}

The blue wasn’t as brilliant in his eyes before. She wasn’t sure if it was his boots, or how he hunched his shoulders, but he appeared shorter, too. The lines across his brow and around his mouth were deeper, his jaw wasn’t quite as square, and the ruggedness of his features had faded.

“Why are you here, Peter? I could have gotten my own wood.” He went to the opposite side of the sofa, keeping his distance. “You worried me. Coming to this remote cabin the way you did for the holidays … well, it’s not something happy people do.” “Happy people?” Her irritation flared. “So you came out here to make sure I didn’t kill myself? I guess that could hurt your lodge’s reputation.”

He sat and let out a long breath. “No, I came because I sensed you needed someone to lean on. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Everyone needs help now and then.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t. I’ve overcome a lot of odds to make my way in the world. I’m a successful executive and a burgeoning author, and I’ve accomplished everything without anyone’s help.”

Peter tapped the arm of the sofa with a tapered finger, his gaze never wavering. “And that would explain why you’re here—alone in an isolated cabin. You refuse to let anyone help you.” He stopped tapping and leaned in closer. “It’s all right to talk about what’s bothering you. Emotions don’t make you weak; they make you human.”

She was about to argue with him, defend her reclusive lifestyle, and then the fight in her fizzled. He was right—a wound couldn’t heal without being tended, and all Courtney had done since getting dumped was ignore her injury. But many people she tried to talk to grew tired of listening.

“No one wants to hear about someone else’s problems.”

“But I want to hear yours.” He sat back, dropping his voice to a gentle murmur. “I want to know what brought you here.”

The icy wall that had sprouted around her heart slowly thawed. He might not have been the same kind and considerate man who’d driven her to the cabin, but something was soothing about him. Perhaps the time had come to address the real reason she embraced coming to the cabin.

Her tension retreated as she raised her head to the ceiling, attempting to find the right words.

“When your world falls apart, sometimes all you can register is the destruction and how your feelings gut you. You don’t see or hear others when they try to help. It’s just noise. But your being here, your kindness, it’s made things better. I’m not sure how you did that, but I’m grateful you came out in the cold night to check on me.” She wiped her face and stood, uncomfortable with all she’d said. “I’m sure you have other guests to see to.”

Peter reclined on the sofa, draping his arm over the back.

“What was his name?”

For weeks, she’d refused to say it. Now, she feared speaking his name might give him some power over her.

She sank onto the sofa, twisting her hands.

“Kyle,” came out in a long, sad breath.

“And why did you let him break your heart?”

She tossed up her hand. “I caught him with another woman.”

“No, that’s how your relationship ended.” Peter eased closer. “What I want to know is why you let him in? You profess to be strong and not need anyone. What did he have you felt you lacked?”

The question washed over her, creating a funny quiver in her stomach. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

Peter adjusted his coat, getting comfortable. “Try.”

She took in his relaxed air, which contradicted his formal attire, and questioned if confiding any more was a wise move. She vacillated between showing him the door and sharing what was on her mind.

“I’m not here to judge, Courtney. Only to listen.”

Hearing her name in his smooth, deep voice settled her debate. Perhaps what she needed was an objective opinion.

“When I first met Kyle, he was everything I thought I wanted—intelligent, funny, a man who could make me better.” She took a loose lock of her brown hair and twirled it nervously around her finger. “I guess that’s what I was looking for—someone who would tell me I was good enough.”

He rubbed the golden stubble on his chin. “And did he do that?”

She let the hair fall from her hand. “I thought he did, but then little things changed my mind. He tore me down most of the time. When we fought, he blamed everything on me. Soon, I became the problem in his life, not the solution. No one was surprised when we ended—not even me.”

AUTHOR BIO:

Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is a multi-award-winning author, screenwriter, advanced practice registered 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. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable.

Weis writes romance, mystery, suspense, thrillers, supernatural, and young adult fiction and has sold approximately one million books. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans where she is a permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries and rescues orphaned and injured animals.

She is a member of both the International Thriller Writers Association and the Horror Writers Association. www.AlexandreaWeis.com

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🌟BOOK BLITZ:🌟 Death by the River by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}

Death by the River by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor

Release Date: October 2nd 2018 by Vesuvian Books

Pages: 357

Genres: Horror, Young Adult

A High School “American Psycho”

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.

Abandon hope all ye who enter here ...

Purchase: Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Kobo

{EXCERPT}

Leslie clung to him, wishing they were outside. “What is this place?”

“The cells.” Derek kept his voice low.

She squeezed his bicep. “I’ve never been inside The Abbey.” Leslie peered into the dim, cavernous corridor ahead, with only patches of light coming through the thick stone walls. “I wish we hadn’t come.”

“It will be fine, I promise.” He patted her hand. “Nothing will hurt you. I won’t let it.”

They crept along, their feet hitting sticks and fallen pieces of plaster from the crumbling walls around them. Puddles of water dotted the uneven stone floor and dampened Leslie’s tennis shoes. Mounds of dead leaves lay swept to the side. The low ceiling had roots coming through it, and the walls were cold and slimy to the touch. Derek shined his flashlight into the first room on the left. It was a depressingly small space composed of four walls and no windows.

It reminded Leslie of a jail cell rather than a place where a person would choose to live.

Scraps of paper littered the ground of the next cell they came across; another had a rusty metal frame of a bed. Several of the rooms had cracks in their plaster ceilings along with patches of mold. When they stumbled on a few rat skeletons, Leslie turned her head into Derek’s shoulder.

At the end of the passageway, sunlight snuck through a break in the wall. The intrusion of light was a welcome sight and Leslie’s fear abated. The jagged opening allowed green leaves from the plants outside to reach in, and a few creeping vines jutted up toward the ceiling. Along the floor, a thick pile of dead leaves hid the lower part of the opening.

“There was a cave-in along the wall here.” Derek brushed the leaves aside, revealing a fairly large breach able to accommodate one person at a time. “The other cells past this point are too dangerous to explore. We can get out here and avoid going back through The Abbey.”

Derek turned off his flashlight and handed it to her. He pushed the leaves back, pulled the vines down, and kicked the debris at the bottom away, trying to clear the opening.

While he worked, a glimmering light from inside one of the cells farther down the corridor distracted her. She flipped on the flashlight and angled it into the tight quarters beyond the cave-in.

The walls in this portion of the cells had deeper cracks than the rest of the structure. The fissures ran along the entire ceiling and down to the floors. Patches of black mold were everywhere. What struck her as odd was the lack of debris. It appeared as if it had been freshly swept without any leaves or rat skeletons littering the ground.

Derek came up behind her. “What are you doing?”

Leslie headed toward the room where she’d spotted the strange light. “I saw something.”

The smell of rot and mold filled her nose. Her skin brushed against the slimy walls, and she cringed. But something compelled her to keep going into the section Derek had deemed too dangerous to explore.

“Leslie, stop.”

Naturally, she ignored him and pressed on, testing the floor with the toe of her shoe as she carefully progressed. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch, but this time a tingling sensation of excitement went with it. She felt like Indiana Jones exploring a lost tomb and waiting for a booby trap to jump out at her.

Her beam of light filtered into the room, and her heart crept higher in her throat. She rounded the edge of the wall and halted.

The cell was small without any windows, but this room appeared lived in. Along the far wall, below a pair of rusted pipes where a sink had once been, a green cot—army issue—had a pillow and green blanket neatly stacked on top. At the foot of the cot was a blue ice chest; on top of it, an assortment of red and white candles.

Leslie went up to the cot and caressed the blanket and pillows. Her foot tapped something beneath. She bent down and discovered an old CD player.

What’s this?

Footfalls came from behind her. She swerved the flashlight around to Derek, fuming.

“Did you do this?”

“Do what?” He shielded his eyes from the light and stepped inside.

She wanted to believe he had no idea any of this was here, but her suspicions couldn’t be silenced. The whole scenario seemed so well-planned.

“What the hell?” Derek came up to the cot and lifted the pillow.

She stood back, studying his reaction as he browsed the contents of the room. “I thought you said this portion was dangerous.”

“It is.”

AUTHOR BIO:

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.

Photography, making wine, and helping endangered species are just some of his interests. Lucas is an expert archer and enjoys jazz, blues, and classical music.

One of his favorite quotes is: “It’s better to be silent than be a fool.” ~Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird)

Alexandrea Weis is an advanced practice registered nurse who was born and raised in New Orleans. Having been brought up in the motion picture industry, 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 award-winning novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story memorable. A permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries, Weis rescues orphaned and injured wildlife. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans.

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