Thursday, October 22, 2026

Blog Tour: A HIDDEN FATE by Carol Efron

 



A hidden past.

An uncertain future.

An impossible choice.


A Hidden Fate

by Carol Efron

Genre: Women’s Fiction




A poignant novel of love under fire about a woman who must find the courage to face an uncertain future—and an impossible choice.

Baltimore, 1986. Julia and Matt are newlyweds, in love and eager to begin graduate school. Julia longs to leave behind haunting memories of her mother’s devastating decline in Maryland, but she unexpectedly learns the truth her father has hidden: Her mother died of a fatal genetic illness. Julia now faces a 50 percent chance of inheriting the same fate, and every child she longs to have will carry the same risk.

When an unplanned pregnancy rocks their careful plans, Julia and Matt face agonizing uncertainty and impossible choices. Desires and convictions pull them toward starkly different paths, each possibly leading to misery.

As the couple struggles to protect the fragile, fierce love that first bound them together, they face the cost of secrets and the ache of betrayal—but they also discover the hope of forgiveness.

 

What readers are saying:

“…the richly drawn characters and the emotional depth of Julia’s journey make for a deeply affecting novel whose moral questions linger long after the story’s end.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

 

“This moving novel will appeal to fans of intimate, issue-driven fiction about women’s choices, inherited trauma, and the hidden costs of love. Great for fans of: Lisa Genova’s Inside the O’Briens, Abraham Verghese’s The Covenant of Water” —Publisher’s Weekly Booklife Review

 

“Family secrets, the rights of parents, maternal love and the importance of living one’s life to the fullest all come into play as Julia, the protagonist in Carol Efron’s intriguing novel, faces an excruciating and fateful decision.” —Jerry Burger PhD  author of Shadows of 1915: A Novel

 

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A whiff of garlic and a smoky odor Julia couldn’t place enticed her as she and Matt entered a favorite Chinese restaurant

the night before their much-debated move from Manhattan. She inhaled deeply. Would there be a Szechuan restaurant half as good in Baltimore?

Probably not, she thought, and tried to push away a swarm of negative feelings about Maryland.

The hostess seated them at a narrow table. When Matt rested his calf against Julia’s, she appreciated the warmth of the love he conveyed in this familiar gesture. They’d dined here frequently when they started dating. She let herself feel nostalgic about meeting each other in a freshman astronomy class, stealing kisses in the NYU library, visiting iconic New York sites as they were falling in love. She wouldn’t have chosen to move from the Village if Matt didn’t believe—reasonably—that they needed to settle in Baltimore to further his career. But she adored him; she’d follow him where he had to go if it didn’t ruin her chance to become a historian.

“Just one more push on the packing and we’ll finish well before midnight,” he said after they placed their order.

The meal turned out to be even more delicious than usual. They ate quickly. When they requested the check, the waitress asked if they’d like fortune cookies.

“Skip them,” Matt said. “We don’t have time.”

“Oh, but they’re fresh today,” the waitress said. “And maybe you’ll get good tidings.”

“Do you believe the fortunes?” Julia asked. They’d often chatted with this invariably upbeat waitress and Julia was curious about her views.

The woman shrugged. “No, but a fortune can be an opportunity to reflect on where we want to go. Perhaps especially useful since you’re newly married.”

“Good point,” Julia said. “Besides, I feel like something sweet.” She nudged Matt under the table as the waitress bustled off. “I know you don’t have any patience for superstition, but would you want to know your future? If you could?”

“Learning his future didn’t work out so well for Oedipus.”

She laughed. “You’re awfully literary tonight. Has something rubbed off on you from helping me pack all my novels?”

“Come on, I’m far more than a stodgy physicist.”

“I know you are, so stop teasing. I’d like an answer.” Maybe it was the weight of the move bearing down on her, but Julia’s question wasn’t casual. Given her mother’s fate, sometimes she worried about her own health. She lacked the almost reflex optimism she’d observed in most of her friends, none of whom had lost a parent in their childhood.

“Okay,” he said, “seriously, being a scientist, I like predicting things. But as to knowing my own fate . . . I’m not sure. How ’bout you?”

“It depends on the answers. I’d be thrilled to shed my concerns about getting my mother’s mental illness.”

He reached for her hand. “Oh Jule, her doctors said her psy-chosis was due to multiple sclerosis. And the articles you found in the library confirmed what your own doctor told you: that there isn’t much chance you’ll get MS.”

“I know, but—”

The waitress returned with the cookies. “I’ll miss seeing you,” she said. “I wish you all the best.”

They wished her the same. Matt cracked one cookie open and pulled out the slip. “Embrace uncertainty—it’s where the magic begins,” he read. “I’m not sold on that.”

“It might be good advice,” Julia said. “Perhaps.”

She took a cookie and extracted her fortune: “Seek not the future but the wisdom to shape it.” She handed him the slip. “Wise since I can’t know what life will bring.”

He glanced at it. “Agreed. I hope you enjoyed your cookies. But we should leave.” He smiled. “The movers might actually show up on time.”

“At the crack of dawn? Dream on. Still, we better be ready.” When they stood, Matt drew her to him and kissed her. She delighted in the softness of his lips and the tang of the ginger on his breath.

“We’re headed for a great year,” he said, kissing her again. Here he was, ridiculing fortune-telling but doing it himself.

Julia smiled to herself at his contradictions. She had to acknowledge her own: feeling apprehensive about moving to Baltimore yet eager to get there to start the first chap-ter of their married life.

She straightened her spine. “Let’s go,” she said. They stepped out into the bright lights and quirky sights of the West Village.





Carol earned her MD from Johns Hopkins, served on the faculty at Stanford and John Hopkins, and built a thriving private practice in Silicon Valley. Working on the front lines of genetic testing, she felt an urgent need to write this book, and she would love to talk to you about how these real-world experiences inspired her debut novel, along with the broader implications of genetic testing.

 

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!


Blog Tour: DAZZLED BY THE LIGHT by Karen Christino



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Karen Christino will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.



New Age trailblazer Linda Goodman wrote best-selling books and empowered millions with astrology’s insights. Strong willed, complicated and fiercely independent, she had three husbands, six kids, legions of fans, and extraordinary success. An idealistic seeker, she believed she could create the world she chose; yet with her daughter’s suicide at 21, she shrank from reality. Dazzled by the Light covers Linda’s West Virginia roots, her relationship struggles, professional achievements and financial setbacks. Enriched with in-depth research, vivid portraits of New Age figures, friends’ candid recollections, and Linda’s effervescent prose, this comprehensive biography illuminates the life and times of an enigmatic icon.


Read an Excerpt

Love Letters radio show, 1957

Before Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs success, her most successful project was a radio show called “Love Letters from Linda.” She was preoccupied with love, and was an adroit letter writer; “Love Letters” combined the two. Her show aired in Pittsburgh, where the family had moved in 1957.

From the perspective of a mother of three in a secure marriage, the project may have helped put her sometimes tumultuous past in context. We can envision Linda writing passionate letters to her ex-husband Bill Snyder overseas in the 1940s, while listening to sentimental standards on the radio. Then ten years later imagining penning the loving and supportive missives she would have preferred, or the kind of letters she and her current husband Sam might have exchanged.

The show allowed her to relive her younger days when life held few limitations or responsibilities, when she was a beauty pageant contestant. Linda was the writer and the announcer for the show, which featured romantic songs from the 1940s. She probably read letters she’d created to depict correspondence between soldiers and their sweethearts at home.

“Love Letters” was broadcast in October of 1957 on Monday and Thursday evenings on WJAS in downtown Pittsburgh, and ran through 1961. Linda probably refreshed the letters and switched up the songs. She, herself, was often nostalgic for the past. But the show was innovative, since “oldies” radio didn’t become popular until the 1960s and ‘70s. Once the family moved to New York City, Goodman set her sights on bigger things.

About the Author:A consulting astrologer for over 20 years, Karen Christino has written nine books about astrology, and horoscopes for Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Modern Bride and Seventeen magazines. She has a B.A. from Colgate University, and also studied at Columbia University.

Website: https://karenchristino.com/
Dazzled by the Light book page: https://karenchristino.com/books/dazzled-by-the-light-linda-goodman/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100014294347020
Dazzled on Amazon: https://link.amazon/B0hZwAWIm

Wednesday, October 21, 2026

Blog Tour: THE UNSEELIE HEIR'S CLAIM by Elisa Rae

 




A human servant who sees too much.

A lord cursed in a pitch-black maze.

A throne in crisis with a missing heir.

Welcome to the Courts in Conflict. 


The Unseelie Heir’s Claim

Courts in Conflict Book 3

by Elisa Rae

Genre: Light Fantasy Romance, Romantasy


The Unseelie throne is in crisis, and the whole Wild Wood is in an uproar as the hunt is on for the missing heir. Kent is aware of the news, and even the humans just beyond the borders of fae land have heard rumors. He didn’t think it had anything to do with him. But then he comes home to a Dullahan in his mother’s kitchen claiming Kent is the lost heir.

Rue doesn’t belong. Left on the doorstep of the foundling home as a baby, she only knows she has some fae blood. Now an adult, she hides her differences from the humans beneath a quiet demeanor. But that doesn’t stop her from seeing magical things, like a glowing crown on the head of her new friend.

The Unseelie Heir’s Claim is a light, fantasy romance novella about a relationship between an Unseelie and a fae of mixed blood. It features a reluctant lost heir, fated mates, and a romance between a noble and a servant, all played out against a backdrop of the peril, politics, and uncertainty of the Unseelie Court in crisis.

 

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Rue

 

 Leaning forward, Kent rested his folded forearms on the tabletop. “My turn. Why were you so upset at the sight of a human child in my arms?”

Greyson nodded as though he had expected the question. “There has been an increased trade in human child abduction among the Unseelie, and I feared you allied with the smugglers supplying children to the slavers.”

“I thought the fae had banned human slavery.” 

“They have.” Greyson’s mouth tightened as his brows lowered in a great frown. “But outlawing a behavior and preventing illegal practices are two different things.”

“Why does it matter to you?” I asked because it clearly did. His anger as he had realized Mela’s species struck me as fierce and genuine. “You are fae. Every fae I have encountered couldn’t care less about humans.”

“Not every fae,” Kent inserted.

I sighed. “I didn’t mean you.”

“Words matter,” he protested.

“They do. And binding words even more.” Leveling an annoyed glance at him, I pressed my lips together.

“Those words, I meant them.”

“No more bindings. I told you,” I shot back.

Kent attempted to appear at least a bit repentant. “I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.”

“And what impression would that be?” I asked. “That we are bound more tightly than we are?” The implications of a binding made me uncomfortable after being on my own for so long. 

Before Mela, no one cared about what happened to me; no one depended on me, and I had learned to accept that. 

Then Mela arrived at the foundling home. Her needing me had been a drastic change in my life. She’d needed care and love, and I knew Mistress Prout wouldn’t offer that. So, I stepped in and provided what Mela needed. 

To my complete surprise, Mela loved me in return. I had grown comfortable with that arrangement, and then Kent—I shook away the thought. We were bound now, and although I wasn’t sure I liked it, I needed to accept it and move forward.






The Fae King’s Labyrinth

Courts in Conflict Book 2

Someone stole Azulin’s true name. Cursed to ride with the Wild Hunt during each full moon, he is helpless against the Unseelie king’s will. Over the years, the curse’s grip has strengthened, making Azulin’s magic difficult to control. Fighting the curse has exhausted his spirit to the point that he despairs of breaking its hold on him. Then one full moon, the curse places him in a labyrinth, not a hunt. Perhaps this is his chance, or maybe just a new form of torture.

Calypso is a shapeshifter who can’t change form. Living as an unpaid caregiver and laborer in her sister’s household, her presence is barely tolerated in their insular community. When a strange fae threatens her pregnant sister, Calypso sacrifices herself. Perhaps an honorable death would give her life purpose. Instead, she ended up fighting for her life in a pitch-black labyrinth.

The Fae King’s Labyrinth is a light, fantasy romance novella about a relationship between a Seelie fae and a mortal woman. It features fae, found family, fated mates, and a romance between a noble and a commoner, played out in a perilous maze and an equally dangerous fae court.

 

 

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The Unseelie's Wallflower

Courts in Conflict Book 1

Greyson hides many things from the Unseelie Court when they invade his estate each autumn for the Wild Hunt. During his required appearance as host, he is surprised to find a human among the glittering fae. She can see him even when he is using his stealth magic, which means only one thing—they are soul mates. Can he protect her amidst the swirl of fae politics and a plot against her life?

Lyra has grown up among the fae. She has been trained to be the perfect servant. Then her master brings her to the Unseelie Court event of the year and demands she demonstrate her skills to nobles. With the promise of freedom as a motivator, she willingly agrees. Then she realizes her master’s true plan thanks to the intimidating fae lord hosting the event. Though why he would be invested in her fate is a mystery.

The Unseelie’s Wallflower is a light, fantasy romance novella about a relationship between an Unseelie and a human woman. It features faes, fated mates, and a romance between a noble and a servant, all played out against a backdrop of the peril, politics, and maneuverings of the Unseelie Court.

  

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A reader of fairytales and folklore, Elisa Rae loves a happy ending. Noblebright characters, dastardly villains, and chemistry between characters delight her. When she isn’t writing, she loves to watch superhero movies and literary dramas.

Elisa Rae is the pen name of Rachel Rossano.

 

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!



Blog Tour: THE GYRE by Stacy Carlson

 



An atmospheric journey into the far northern wilds, THE GYRE spins one man’s search for meaning into an astonishing saga where adventure, folklore, and the Arctic converge.


The Gyre

by Stacy Carlson

Genre: Literary Fiction, Dark Arctic Survival, Slavic Magical Realism


***Winner of the Electric Book Award***

An atmospheric journey into the far northern wilds, THE GYRE spins one man’s search for meaning into an astonishing saga where adventure, folklore, and the Arctic converge.

Arkady Afanasyev is a nineteenth-century Russian monk who aims to be the northernmost holy man in the world when he hitches a ride to Spitsbergen, a remote island considered by most to be a no man’s land. As he struggles across the tundra, he’s haunted by regret, a long-lost family, and a chorus of Orthodox saints and Slavic pagan tricksters including hearth spirits, sea demons, and the Twelve Sisters of Scurvy. Amid their uncanny influence and the great, turning, harsh natural world, Arkady is brutally and deeply transformed.

 

Content Warning: language (mild), loss of faith, alcohol consumption (mild), cannibalism (mild), violence, gore, starvation, animal death, animal attacks, death, amputation, complications in childbirth, kidnapping (mild).

 

What readers are saying about the book:

“Stacy Carlson has written an enthralling story of flawed, fragile humanity and the uncanny redemptive power of nature at its most brutal. The Gyre is a journey through a stark, glittering wilderness, an unforgettable landscape both terrible and holy in equal measure.”
—Lynn Coady, Giller Prize-winning author of Hellgoing

 

“Mythic journeys, fairy tales of ice and snow, sailors’ vodka-addled and lusty dreams, a monk’s poetic yearnings—The Gyre has it all! As we follow Arkady Afanasyev on his journey into the farthest reaches of the Arctic in search of his teacher and himself, we encounter story upon story strung together, like pearls, showing us how we are connected to the water, the ice, the ground, the light, and each other. The Gyre pulls you in and in and into its profoundly beautiful spiral of a story.”
—Kathryn Nuernberger, author of Held: Essays in Belonging

 

“This is an absolutely astonishing saga, packed at every turn with innumerable tangential sagas of survival, magic, incomprehensible courage and persistence, and—always—the great, turning, harsh natural world. It zooms the reader to a long ago and far away universe of struggle, quest, agony, and enchantment. Fearlessly imagined and capably written, Stacy Carlson has created a particular, complex, and searingly unforgettable mythology.”
—Joan Frank, author of Juniper Street: A Novel

 

“A gripping novel—both a rip-roaring yarn and a deep inquiry into what makes us human. Like a Caspar David Friedrich painting, Carlson’s The Gyre places the human against the immense backdrop of an unforgiving landscape—here, the high-Arctic archipelago of Svalbard—with dazzling results.”
—Colin Dickey, author of Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places and Afterlives of the Saints

 

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From Chapter 17

 

In the morning, Arkady tucks his flint, steel, and tinderbox into the pocket of his coat, which now he wears continuously, fully buttoned, day and night. He packs up the rest of his camp and ponders the mossy indentation that represents his earthly form.

Truly, it is better to fast than to starve. What else can we humans do but exert our puny will and, by the contours of our effort, see the framework upon which the universe is draped? What else can we do? My earthly husk is hungry, though my spirit still feeds.

The clouds have retreated to the sky’s upper reaches, and an elongated sunrise stretches a pale arm across the horizon. This triggers a strange glow over the tundra plain: a variegated chorus of green and stone.

Arkady moves on. He crosses a subtle point of land that ebbs into a narrow beach. Here, the stones reveal the outflow of a stream, whose course has eroded a rift in the mountain. Far above, Arkady hears but cannot see a waterfall. He drinks from the stream.

Foxes follow ice bears. That is their way. Foxes can hunt on their own, of course, but here on Spitsbergen mostly they follow bears out onto the ice. Arkady cannot say that foxes have faith, though his grandfather might have said so. But foxes operate on the promise of left-behind blood and entrails. Foxes follow ice bears. But this one follows Arkady.

As he drinks he watches the fox pick a delicate way across the wet ground.

“The animals live by rules unknown to us. Mysterious rules, little one. Rules we could learn from. If you are going to be wise about things, which I know you shall, you will keep your mind open to the very different rules of the four- and two-legged creatures of the earth. Do you hear?” His grandfather’s voice is so close.

Arkady walks for some time, then turns on his heel and kneels with one arm outstretched. He extends one quarter of one dried fish (a full eighth of his last remaining food) southward and waits. The fox edges up, sniffs the savory tidbit, bares his fangs, and plucks the torn fish from where Arkady has set it on the stones. The animal growls and retreats with the morsel.

From behind a driftwood log, the girl-saint Vasilissa frowns, confused by the human’s kindness. Each night when the fox comes to her to sleep with its tail curled luxuriously at her neck, she feels its ribs poking a little closer to the surface of its body. All night she hugs the animal tightly and watches flat, gray clouds drift overhead. With the animal close to her, she is part of this immense place; she creeps, hides, and persists just like the delicate purple saxifrage blossoms she saw when she first arrived on the island. With the animal near her, she is stronger. By loving it, she is somehow more able to consider helping the human, although for now, she does not.

The tundra plain extends its wide palm along the coast, and Arkady trudges in a daze of hunger through the afternoon. His prayers only skim the surface of things, and he can’t shake the feeling that his grandfather is walking just behind his right shoulder. Instead of a comfort, though, the presence unhinges Arkady’s composure so that, for two hours, he can’t keep from looking over his shoulder every few minutes.

Once, when he turns, the fox is following closely behind him, and, using some of his small store of willpower, Arkady tears off a second chunk of dried fish. This time the fox takes it directly from his hand. Walking on, Arkady sucks his fingers for the salty residue. Then, he unwraps his prayer rope from around his wrist and slips it into his pocket.

The third time he offers the fox a piece of fish, Arkady trembles with hunger. Vasilissa watches from the slope just above them. The fox will not go completely hungry today, and she is glad. She decides she will flag down the next patron saint. The human deserves a kindness in return for this one. Below her, by the curve of a stream, the fox plucks the last of the fish from Arkady’s outstretched left hand, and, quick as he can, Arkady grabs the animal by the throat with his other, gloved hand and holds on. He’s decided he can bear the animal’s claws but probably not its teeth.

Arkady will never forget the way the fox fought for its life. It drew both its hind legs close to its body and thrust them at Arkady again and again, faster than he thought possible, with its claws outstretched. It used these powerful tools to shred the wool in one section of Arkady’s coat and to gash the skin of his right hand and wrist, and once even his face, as he fought to secure those legs. The fox writhed and used its front claws as shield and sword both, but a man’s arms are longer than a fox’s reach, and when a creature is gripped by the throat, it is difficult to persevere. After he secures the hind legs, Arkady shuffles on his knees to the bank of the stream and plunges the fox into the icy water. Unfortunately for the fox, the water is just deep enough, and Arkady’s hunger just strong enough, for the man to succeed.

Vasilissa watches Arkady struggling with the fox and gradually understands she is watching a battle to the death. Her sight periscopes back and upward until she is a cloud observing a tiny diorama far below. But when the human finally raises the fox’s limp and dripping form, the whole scene collapses in on itself, and she goes blind with rage. Then, inevitably, the pain unto death blooms into something else: She is no longer a little girl. She is a figment, a force, and a bright, small terror adrift in time. This knowledge fills her mind and heart, and her rage fades as suddenly as it arose, and she is back in a stark northern land, kneeling on a cushion of intricate moss filaments, clenching her fists.

Vasilissa rises and turns from the human world, because she can. She glides over the ground. She continues up the scree slope, away from Arkady and his pathetic travails.  Vasilissa will be folded into the mysteries of Spitsbergen, comforted by the crags, and nourished by endless plains of ice and stone. In some future form, she will emerge from this sanctuary, but for now, she disappears.





STACY CARLSON is a novelist, naturalist, and educator. Publishers Weekly called her debut novel, Among the Wonderful, “Intelligent, engrossing, and utterly unique.” Stacy’s essays and fiction have appeared in Tin House, Post Road, Inkwell, and elsewhere, and she has received fellowships and residencies from the Mesa Refuge, The Arctic Circle, Djerassi Resident Artists Program, and Signal Fire. Her background includes work as a historical ecologist, fish cannery worker, hot springs caretaker, and hiking guide in Big Sur. She grew up between mountains and sea in the Pacific Northwest and has lived in New England, New York, Northern California, and the Upper Midwest.

 

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!