Sunday, November 14, 2010

Dog Eared Publicity Presents Mo' Dirty by Darrell King Book Tour!

About Darrell King

Darrell King has been writing ever since the age of eight. His first published work of fiction was penned during the fall of 1976 as a student of Mary Field’s Elementary School on South Carolina’s Daufuskie Island. This effort, an adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” was both written and illustrated by Mr. King and was published in the school’s quarterly periodical, “The Daufuskie Kid’s Magazine.” Mr. King went on to write several unpublished stories and numerous poems, several of which were published in the 1995-1996 “Poetry Anthology” by the National Library of Poetry in Owings Mills, Maryland. During the 90s, Mr. King was attracted to and inspired by the lurid tales of inner city crime and drama that he read on the pages of novels by great writers such as Donald Goines and Iceberg Slim. This, coupled with an enduring appreciation for the hard-edged, yet enlightened lyric of the era’s gangsta rap icons like Tupac Shakur, The Notorious B.I.G., Easy E and others prompted Mr. King to begin writing his very own stories of urban crime and inner city drama. Mr. King resides in Washington, DC.

 To find out more about Darrell or to learn more about Mo' Dirty visit King of

About Mo' Dirty

Mo' Dirty

Peter Whiskey Battle is a 24-year-old enforcer for Peola, Georgia's Bad Boyz II Syndicate, a dangerous street gang controlling the lion's share of illicit narcotics coming into the bustling port of Savannah. After murdering two local snitches for David Ambrosia, the suave, smooth-talking leader of the syndicate and Whiskey's best friend, he is given an offer he can't refuse. The underworld bosses and thugs of the low country have joined forces with a handful of rogue cops to bring an end to the term of meddlesome police chief Mickey O'Mally, whose war on crime has angered many of the shot callers and big ballers of the dirty-dirty. With the headache of the top cop gone, they can depend on the crooked officers to eliminate their connections. Everything goes as planned, until Whiskey begins a torrid affair that ends in the death of his lover. Is he guilty of killing his famous lover, or is he simply a victim of circumstances, considering the powerful enemies she recently made? You be the judge!?

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Dog Eared Publicity Presents This Side of Crazy by Kimmie Thomas Book Tour!

About Kimmie Thomas

Kimmie Thomas

  Kimmie Thomas is native Detroiter living with her husband and children. Her experience as a psychiatric nurse has given her the ability to create characters that display common perosnality flaws. She writes when she not working as a teacher and a nurse.

 To find out more about Kimmie or to learn more about This Side of Crazy visit or

About This Side of Crazy

This Side of Crazy

Maxine Payne’s poor self-esteem led her to marry the first man that showed any interest in her. After five years of marriage and misery she has nothing to show for it. Her sham of a marriage is falling apart and her dream of having a child is fading away each day. To make matters worst, she discovers that the people in her life are not there to love and help her as she has always believed.

She struggles to come to terms with her failing marriage and her sick mother as she watches her chance at a happy home with children slip away. Her two childhood girlfriends offer help and support but they have their own personal struggles. The old saying, “what’s done in the dark will eventually comes to light” has never been more true. When tragedy strikes, Maxine will have to make the most important decision of her life. But will the lies and secrets her husband and friends harbor bring Maxine’s life crashing down around her?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Dog Eared Publicity Presents A Pointed Death by Kath Russell Book Tour

kath russell
Kath Russell enjoyed over thirty-five years in marketing and communications management in the biotechnology industry. She was an executive with one of the first genetic engineering companies. Russell also was president of Russell-Welsh Strategic Life Science Communications, Inc., and founder and chief executive officer of an ecommerce company offering services for mature companion animals and veterinarians. Russell received her bachelor’s degree from Northwestern University, her master’s degree in journalism from Boston University, her master’s of business administration from the Kellogg School of Management, and earned her certificate in creative writing from the UCLA Extension Writers' Program. 

 To find out more about Kath or to learn more about A Pointed Death visit or

About A Pointed Death

a pointed death

Welcome to the world of Nola Billingsley, a 40-something biotechnology whiz with an adored shorthaired pointer, who finds herself embroiled in both a nefarious murder and a blazingly hot new romance in the thriller A Pointed Death, by Kath Russell. When techno genius Nola Billingsley finds her former employee, an amoral creep who stole secrets, murdered, she doesn’t exactly shed tears. Instead, she begins a flirtation with the inspector assigned to the case. With her shorthaired pointer Skootch watching her back, Nola and her group of techno pals try to help solve the murder, bringing into play Nola’s feisty feminism and idealism, and putting both her life and her love affair at risk. Finding a link between the Chinese government and American thieves, she bands with a group who believes that biotech people should protect their industry from any evil abusers. Could there be a government plot afoot, and can she save the world even as she tries to salvage her love life?

Smart, witty, and playful, A Pointed Death looks at the biotech industry with a decidedly feminine slant. The writing is edgy and full of humor, and the plot twists and turns with surprise after surprise. A breathtaking thriller with a unique background, A Pointed Death announces the debut of an enormously talented new writer to watch.

Book Excerpt

Prologue The beefy hand of the liquidator, lifeline clogged with grease, sliced the air like a rattlesnake’s head. I covered the hovering palm with twenties. Don London had auctioned the assets of my failed dot-com and was delivering the remaining equipment I could not sell, because it was leased, and I would have to pay it off, into the garage of my San Francisco home. New businesses are supposed to start in California garages, not end in them. Don’s crew rolled the last piece of equipment into the garage. The copy machine looked expensive and out of place sandwiched between my treadmill and the recycling bins. “Better luck next time, Nola.” Don hefted his corpulent frame into the driver’s seat of his truck. “Don’t wish me luck, wish me venture capital.” “You entrepreneurs are a persistent breed.” He slammed the driver’s side door. “Persistent or plain stupid!” My shout startled an umbrellatoting woman walking her poodle down the sidewalk of our peaceful, manicured block. Hell, there you go disrupting things, Nola Billingsley. You can never leave well enough alone. A rambunctious, independent woman who has to have the last word. As Don’s truck pulled away, I turned and surveyed the stacked equipment. Over the copy machine, suspended from a redwood rafter, an artificial Christmas wreath drooped. All it needed was a rest-in-peace sash to become a memorial tribute for my defunct start-up. I owed $13,500 more on this collating colossus. Our dot-com’s accountant had negotiated the lease in one of his last official acts before absconding with a sizable chunk of my capital. What a depressing end for an entrepreneur. I made my way along the narrow aisle that remained of my garage toward the kitchen and the scotch bottle. The next morning, as I sat down to yogurt and coffee, I realized I had no place to go. My former offices, the scene of much pain and frustration as the business lurched toward collapse, were at least a destination. I looked across the table at my mother. Crap, you’re a forty-eight-year-old woman with no visible means of support living with your mother. How low can you go? Turning from the blaring television, Janie Belle read my thoughts. “You should reopen your consulting business. Why don’t you call up some of your old biology contacts?” “That’s biotechnology, Mother. I plan to, but I have to tie up loose ends on the cyber-business.” My mother is a vibrant eighty years young. She has survived depressions, wars, hurricanes, miscarriages and cancer. She is a displaced Southern girl who wields her accent like a passport. Everywhere she goes, she brings a moving van chock full of eighteenth-century furniture, china, crystal, and family portraits. The gilt-framed, manor-born ancestors were all here on the Left Coast, hanging on the living room walls, mildewing genteelly in the California damp. She lifted her coffee cup, pinkie curled. “Is there anything I can do to help?” “Not unless you change your mind and learn the computer.” “Absolutely not! I am not going to start that at my age.” Janie Belle has mastered many things: needlework, stenciling, gourmet cooking, Girl Scout leading, duplicate bridge, gardening, even chicken farming. She also has conquered things technological. She handles the digital gadgets in the car with skill, channel-surfs with the cable remote, gabs on the cell phone, and nukes with the microwave, but she will NOT go near a computer. I got Janie Belle an e-mail address once. I would come home to a cheery drawl, “Have I got maaail?” I printed messages off for her, and she answered them with handwritten letters on monogrammed stationery. She is complete, resolute, and content in a way modern women, especially we boomer women, can never be. At this moment, the love of my life thundered into the room. Skootch E. Hurry is a pointer dog. I wish I could be more specific as to the exact breed of pointer he is, but we met at the SPCA and his lineage is a mystery. The “E.” does not stand for anything; it is just that the dog has such presence, he deserves a middle initial. At the pound, Skootch attracted my attention by wagging his tail against the cage so hard it bled. I took pity and brought him home. He is a spoiled, undisciplined, overweight slob, and the dearest creature on the planet. Janie Belle insists he dipped the tip in catsup. She says he is a con artist in dog’s clothing. They are tight as shrink-wrap. Skootch sauntered up to the kitchen table with a selfdeprecating sway. This is a prelude to the Lunge. Eighty-pound Skootch, who fancies himself a lap dog, drapes his upper torso across your lap to get a better view of your breakfast plate. He spied my yogurt and harrumphed in distaste. “Nola, why don’t you take that mangy dog for a walk. He’s so fat you can’t see any of his ribs, and his privates are disappearing in his tummy roll.” Skootch left my lap for the greener pastures of Janie Belle’s side of the table. Janie Belle continued, “It’s your fault the canine is corpulent, you spoil him nonstop.” The Lunge was repeated. Skootch’s head lowered into position over her half-eaten breakfast. His tongue made fast work of the left side of the plate. Janie Belle executed an ineffectual shove. “He must be twenty pounds overweight. How you can look the vet in the face?” The tongue swirled around the right side of the plate, a movement as elegant as Renoir’s brushwork. Skootch aimed a wistful gaze at the butter dish. His neck extended outward in its direction. The spunky eighty-year-old smacked him on the nose and pushed him off her lap. “That’s enough! Y’all should be ashamed of yourself.”

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Dog Eared Publicity Presents The Active Creative Child - Parenting in Perpetual Motion by Stephanie Vlahov

About Stephanie Vlahov

stephanie vlahov 
 Stephanie Vlahov has her Masters Degree in Therapy/Counseling, in addition to a year of clinical internship in psychiatric settings. . However, her "day job" is that of corporate recruiter. She is married and has two sons-one of whom (Alex) was the impetus for the book "The Active Creative Child." Now 21, he attends the prestigious London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts (LAMDA ) after attending two years at UCLA in the theatre dept. Stephanie's passion is writing and painting. Through years in community theatre and school involvement, she has drawn upon her well of professional insight and "gut level" parental intuition to draw up one conclusion: We are over diagnosing and labeling some of our most creative minds. While not discounting the validity of a real disorder, ADHD has become a catch all "diagnosis" for children who march to the beat of a different drummer. One of her goals is to empower parents to question the oft heard need to diagnose their child-from educational systems that often hamper creativity at the expense of test scores." If Einstein were alive today, he would be put on Ritalin." 

 For more information on Stephanie and her book visit The Active Creative Child is her first book.

About The Active Creative Child

The Active Creative Child
The Active Creative Child was born out of the need to validate and celebrate the boundless energy oftentimes negated in a highly active child. In these current economic times of budget shortfalls within our educational institutions, there is more emphasis now than ever on "teaching to the test" to obtain high test scores. This translates to more funding. Children who are disruptive are considered a nuisance and distraction. Teachers "routinely" suggest to parents to have their child "evaluated" for ADHD. Oftentimes these comments stem from frustration with normal developmental activity (i.e. a wiggly 1st grade boy) or, a child who may wish to color the sky purple instead of blue. Yes. children need parameters and they need to conform in a group setting. This issue goes beyond that. We are stifling some of our most brilliant minds. "ADHD - like" behavior has been linked neurologically to "out of the box" and creative thought process(es.) While I am not a physician, I can see that this is the case in the children that I have known over the years through my activity in childrens theatre. Alex was a questioning whirling dervish of activity-obsessed with the world of imagination and theatre. I saw in him the incessant pulse of activity and the need to create. If channeled correctly while working within the educational system, an active creative child can and will enrich the lives of those around him.