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The Bridge of Deaths by @M_C_V_Egan Promo & #Free eBook Tour by @MoBPromos via #thetoiboxofwords #amreading

The Bridge of Deaths
1st ed. published June 9, 2011- 50,000 words, 372 Pages

 

2nd. revised ed. published on August 15, 2014

 

Historical Fiction based on real events
with Metaphysical, Mystery, and Romance influences
Follow Bill and Maggie as they cross THE BRIDGE OF DEATHS into 1939 to uncover the mystery behind the plane crash of the G-AESY. A blend of historical fact and fiction takes the reader through well-known and little-known accounts leading up to WWII.

 

In the winter of 2009-2010 a young executive, Bill is promoted and transferred to London for a major International firm. He has struggled for the better part of his life with nightmares and phobias, which only seem to worsen in London. As he seeks the help of a therapist he accepts that his issues may well be related to a ‘past-life trauma’.

 

Through love, curiosity, archives and the information superhighway of the 21st century Bill travels through knowledge and time to uncover the story of the 1939 plane crash.

The Bridge of Deaths

 

Maggie liked Foyles at Charing Cross Road and shopped there often. She had been raised with all that is unlikely, unconventional, and supernatural (perhaps even magical). When she was a child, her world was that of fairies, ghosts, wishes, and the power of crystals and planets. She was taught that answers were to be found in round circles called astrology charts and that there were many people in the world who were psychic and could foretell the future. Although that world was an appealing world, it was inevitable that Maggie, as so many teenagers do, would rebel against the beliefs she was raised with and seek other philosophies.

 

She experimented with various traditional religions and belief systems that existed to fill in the voids felt by those lacking any sort of faith. She found that although she liked many traditional religions and appreciated what they stood for, it was indeed Buddhism that made her feel the most complete. Maggie was for all intents and purposes an illogical, whimsical, adventuresome, and happy young woman. She slept soundly and lived a very complete life.

 

The philosophies of acceptance by which she lived her life made her compatible with most people. She had a nice relationship with her mother, a Danish astrologer, and her father, a successful English businessman who was happy to receive a little guidance from the planets. (If anyone objected to this, he happily pointed out that it had worked for Ronald Reagan.) Maggie often read the books her mother spoke about, and every once in a while, she even joined her mother in some new age ritual or other.

 

It was the excuse of searching for the perfect birthday gift for her mother that placed her at the same book section and store. From the moment she saw the tall, slender man walking down the street, she felt that she needed to follow him. This is not something she remembered ever having done before. She was pretty, and more often than not, men approached her. Experience had taught her that many men worth talking to could be shy and sometimes needed to be approached. With the confidence that is often exhibited by very pretty women, she was not deterred in the least by his surprised reaction to her smile, and so she spoke.

 

“So, which of the women in your life recommended that book to you? Was it your mum or your girlfriend?”

 

She was indeed pretty, and inasmuch as he was instantly attracted to her, it was not in a purely physical way. Someday, as their love story flourished, she would explain to him that when two souls from the past meet, they recognize each other. This happens in love stories, to parents when they first encounter the eyes of their newborn, and to friends as well as enemies.

 

As so many lovers do, when they first met, neither one of them spoke the absolute truth. Like so many lovers starting out a new love story, if they had known where this would lead, both of them might have run out of the bookstore. But they both chose to stay, and so on a cold winter day in January of 2010, when the world was mourning the passing of so many souls in Haiti, their love story began. He smiled back and answered her question.

 

“Why would it have to be a woman? Why couldn’t a man recommend it?”

 

“Oh I see. You are an American.”

 

“No, Canadian actually.”

 

“Same difference. Perhaps in America or Canada, a man other than the author would recommend Many Lives, Many Masters. But here in England, well, it would have to be a girlfriend probably on her grand quest as to how you are soul mates eternally destined to be together, or maybe it would be a middle-aged mum who just discovered Brian Weiss, the author. So, it is that, or you have some sort of existential crisis that led you to find the book on your own. So, mum or girlfriend?”

 

“Hmmm, let me see. My mother prefers to pray and attend church. I don’t have a girlfriend, and it was the medical background of the guy who wrote the book, Dr. Weiss, that impressed me. So, maybe I do fall into the existential crisis category”

 

Her beautiful eyes widened.

 

“Existential crisis it is then, but if you seek impressive credentials in past-life therapy, you might want to read this book, Other Lives, Other Selves. Tell me, what triggered your belief in past lives?”

 

“Belief! I would not call it belief … possibility. I’ve come to realize that strange things happen.”

 

“You know, once you read that book, you will believe. In life there are certain doorways that once you cross them, they will forever change you. And you might also resolve your existential crisis. What you will definitely find is that women love to sleep with men who search for depth through such beliefs.”

 

So in that cold European winter when some in the world denied global warming, he lay in bed, holding her. He could not imagine a less likely place to have encountered the perfect girl, the self-help section at a bookstore. She was, by all accounts, very beautiful. Her laughter and smiley eyes were completely contagious. He was ready to settle down, and she might be the one, even if that involved accepting some very unlikely ideas that she held. There was the most extraordinary feeling of comfort in simply being with her.

 

Maggie had to laugh; she thought he’d be a quick and fun adventure, one that she would soon get out of her system. But this yuppie geek, as it turned out, was surprisingly special from the very first moment. This could be far more than a casual adventure.

 

Bill had not spoken to anyone about his problems. Not anyone other than doctors or therapists. Maggie worked counseling young kids. She was trained to ask just the right questions to make people talk. Bill was used to carefully giving only the information he wanted to give in business and in his private life. He sometimes caught himself telling Maggie much more than what he expected was safe. She thought that she knew just how to pry and could tell he was holding back; this, of course, made him all the more interesting.

 

Their love story grew and developed as some do. Maggie usually led and Bill followed. They enjoyed the typical things new couples enjoy, such as going to restaurants, the cinema, shops, and museums. Sometimes, if the winter weather allowed, they went for nice long walks. Before Bill met Maggie, he had spent all his time in London buried in his work, with his colleagues at the gym, or finding ways to run away from the dreams and thoughts that haunted him. He did this by playing any distracting “brain game” that helped him to forget the letters, the same five letters, on the wings and on the side of the aircraft in his nightmares.

 

He liked to remember how it had been the day they met there in the bookstore by the self-help and philosophy section while he had been holding the book Many Lives, Many Masters, a book that seemed sensible enough to explain past lives. (He had also noticed one discussing future lives. That seemed ridiculous, and he was wondering if in spite of Dr. Weiss’s credentials, this was the right way to learn more about past-life regression therapy.) It was right at that moment that she had smiled and spoken. He liked the thought of how later that day, before they left the bookstore together, they each had purchased a book; he bought Many Lives, Many Masters, and Maggie chose the one about future lives, Same Soul, Many Bodies, the ridiculous one. They often visited Foyles on rainy days.

 

Maggie loved that bookstore, so it could not exactly be said that she had followed him inside. That would have been completely out of character for her. She had not only felt attracted to his physique, but also the way he moved as he walked seemed so familiar; there was a very strong force there, and there had been something she recognized.

 

Then he absolutely surprised her; he went to the section she had least expected “his type”—the cute, yuppie geek type—to choose: he went to her mother’s favorite section, the self-help and new age philosophies section, and in his hand was one of the new age beliefs’ basic books, Many Lives, Many Masters.

 

This was good; it could only mean that he was new to such ideas. That was an old book. It was from the 1980s. Maybe even older. It had to be that old; she remembered a copy or two in her parents’ house for as long as she could remember. This guy, this conquest—Maggie, as many pretty young women do, conquered the hearts of men for sport—this conquest would be a breeze. It was then that he felt different, when he spoke and she heard his accent, an accent so familiar to her from the cinema and the telly, the accent of all the handsome men of her fantasies, an accent that made him even more appealing. Unlike the man she had just met, Maggie was very aware that she was a hopeless romantic.
The Bridge of Deaths **** Revised Edition
Amazon US KINDLE ~ AmazonUS PAPERBACK
 
Amazon UK KINDLE ~ Amazon UK PAPERBACK
 
 
The Bridge of Deaths **** Original Edition
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Amazon UK KINDLE ~ Amazon UK PAPERBACK
 
Barnesand noble ~ authorHOUSE

 

Rated 4.7 Stars on AmazonREVISED EDITION

Experience this incredible quest, through the eyes of the author, and also the fictional characters of Maggie and Bill, who discover their connection to this event through a series of past life regressions. Mystery, love, reincarnation, discovery, and life abound. ~ 5 star review by RE

 

This has elements for the romantic, the mystery buff, and the history buff that will keep you reading until the end. ~ 5 star review by Teresa Watson

 

M C V Egan catches you in the first chapter and doesn’t let you go. You are sucked into both the historical story as well as the personal and paranormal stories that are intertwined through the book. You are wrapped up in the three main characters in both this life and their immediately previous life and enthralled in the winding trail of research that they follow together and separately to join the two together. Recommended. ~ 5 star review by FBTR

 

This is an EXCELLENT book! If you have been passing up Bridge of Deaths by Mcv Egan, well, cut it out! This book is VERY well researched. Excellent story with a blend of romance and mystery. I almost passed it by because I’m not a big history buff, BUT I started going thru the reviews and decided I had to go for it! This is one of the most interesting books I’ve read in awhile. From the first few chapters, I was invested in seeing where the story would take me. I was interested in the characters and completely captivated by the plot. ~ 5 star VERIFIED PURCHASE review by Tina “UF and PNR Romance fan”

 

The story is simple. Reincarnation and real research works in tandem to bring two lovers destined and the past together. The real story is that this book is not close to fiction. Little of this novel is fiction and that adds some wonderful spice to the story. ~ 5 star VERIFIED PURCHASE review by Wanda “Wandah Panda”

 

M.C.V. Egan is the pen name chosen by Maria Catalina Vergara Egan. Catalina was born in Mexico City, Mexico in 1959, the sixth of eight children, in a traditional Catholic family. From a very young age, she became obsessed with the story of her maternal grandfather, Cesar Agustin Castillo–mostly the story of how he died.

 

She spent her childhood in Mexico. When her father became an employee of The World Bank in Washington D.C. in the early 1970s, she moved with her entire family to the United States. Catalina was already fluent in English, as she had spent one school year in the town of Pineville, Louisiana with her grandparents. There she won the English award, despite being the only one who had English as a second language in her class. In the D.C. suburbs she attended various private Catholic schools and graduated from Winston Churchill High School in Potomac, Maryland in 1977.

 

She attended Montgomery Community College, where she changed majors every semester. She also studied in Lyons, France, at the Catholic University for two years. In 1981, due to an impulsive young marriage to a Viking (the Swedish kind, not the football player kind), Catalina moved to Sweden where she resided for five years and taught at a language school for Swedish, Danish, and Finnish businesspeople. She then returned to the USA, where she has lived ever since. She is fluent in Spanish, English, French and Swedish.

 

Maria Catalina Vergara Egan is married and has one son who, together with their five-pound Chihuahua, makes her feel like a full-time mother. Although she would not call herself an astrologer she has taken many classes and taught a few beginner classes in the subject M.C.V. Egan’s new series DEFINING WAYS uses Astrology and other Metaphysical tools www.thebridgeofdeaths.com

 

 
 
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Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords
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Happy Indie Pride Day 2015! #IndieBooksBeSeen -Check out my ebooks #bargain.

ForBlog

While I think this could be a special day for all indie artists such as musicians and filmmakers, here at The ToiBox I’m focusing on the author portion. So today I’m going to be posting a lot on social media, but not because I’m full of myself. Today is the day for authors like me to shine and that’s what I plan to do. Plus, I put out an invite to post other indies too, but that all hinges on whether or not they take up my offer… and they did. See video below.

I missed this movement last year, but I’m on board this year. Apparently this was almost a trending topic last year, so I’m hoping to do my part at making it trend this year. You can help too and here’s how:

  1. Share a post or image of an indie book (with or without its author) and use the hashtag #IndieBooksBeSeen (Like this one 😉 ).
  2. Search the hashtag #IndieBooksBeSeen on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ and then share, like, and plus + anything you like. (Retweets are good too. Visit me on twitter to get started @toithomas.)
  3. Post book reviews and interviews of indie books and authors- don’t forget the hashtag.
  4. Purchase indie books and share your haul on Facebook, Twitter, and or Google+ with the hashtag #IndieBooksBeSeen.
  5. Tell a friend (or 2 or 10) and get them to do the same thing. Go ahead and be biased about it. Promote a particular book or author to your heart’s desire. As long as you use the hashtag #IndieBooksBeSeen it all helps the cause and is a reason to celebrate.

So there you have it. Five simple things you can do today to help make the world take notice of Indie Authors. I hope you will consider at least one or two of them and have some fun with this day. Speaking of fun, there’s a Facebook event you may want to check out (as well as some other stuff)…

#IndieBooksBeSeen Facebook Event

#IndieBooksBeSeen Google+ Event

#IndieBooksBeSeen Facebook Page

#IndieBooksBeSeen Facebook Group

#IndieBooksBeSeen Website

#IndieBooksBeSeen Blog

And last, but definitely not least, I’ve put together a special promotion for my ebooks, through Author Direct purchase and Amazon.com.

OfPastAndFutureCover

I’ll be giving away 4 ebook copies of, Of Past and Future and a chance to purchase a bundle of my ebooks for $2.99  (see images below)
Legend-Window-front40Day coverSurviveFront-jpg

 

Go ahead and check out the Rafflecopter below
Both Eternal Curse ebooks are 99₵.

It only takes 1 entry for a chance to win and there are 4 chances to win. Be sure to review the Terms & Condition…Oh and check out the cool video below.

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Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords

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The Brother’s Keep by @TessaStockton Book Blast & #Giveaway by @MasqTours #KeepBlast #fantasy

Four brothers… Four maidens… Four challenges…
Publication Date: May 6, 2015
Genre: YA Romantic Fantasy
Series: The Brother’s Keep (4 Novellas in 1)

Four brothers are appealing in appearance and stature. Yet beneath the striking features, magnitude and charm, they are monsters, for each one of them have fallen to darkness and are cursed for all time. Possessed with unique power, along with the wrath to destroy, the brothers consume all in their paths …until unlikely maidens challenge them apiece.

Each of the four young maidens ventures out, vulnerable and alone, to battle unknown elements, demons, and strange magic. Risking all for the journey, they are set to find the demise of their monster. But the question of motive begins to infiltrate each of their minds. Are they really trying to save their people from the harm of the monster or redeem a heartless being for the sake of love? Because somehow, while daring, their own hearts are stolen in what could be the quickest path to destruction, the greatest betrayal of all.

Along the way, meet Lily of the Valley, Bright & Morning Star, Promise the King, and The Messenger, characters potentially aiding these impressionable young women who find themselves quite lost in the keeps of alluring yet unscrupulous brothers.

EXCERPTS

WIND’S ARIA

“Who are you?”

He pushed further back into the shadows as she strode closer. “Someone you need not know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

When he didn’t answer, she sighed.

“What a strange, terrible day,” she mumbled. “Well, at least tell me your name . . .”

He stood, speechless, knowing he shouldn’t be there at all—conversing with a Meleyan—especially not their musical deliverer that he was set to doom the day after tomorrow.

A peculiar grumbling interrupted her insistence, to his relief.

“Sorry.” She patted her stomach. He could see, even in the blackened night, how her face turned a deeper shade of red than her hair. “I’ve forgotten to eat. I guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

He plucked an apple from the tree he’d nearly become a part of and held it out to her. The girl approached tentatively. She reached for the fruit but recoiled when her fingers brushed his.

“Is touching me so horrible?” he asked.

Her jaw dropped open and her delicate brow furrowed. She inclined her head. “It . . . hurt.”

“How?” he asked, for her fingers felt good to him, soothing. Warm. He wanted to try again.

“I don’t know how to explain . . .”

“Hum.” Unsatisfied with the answer, he tossed the apple to her and watched as she crunched her teeth into it.

SEA GOD’S SIREN

“You’re not being very nice.” Syrena glanced in the direction of an especially loud wave that crashed against the shore, reaching to kiss the tips of her toes. She pulled her legs in and rested her head on her knees.

The three sisters lingered in silence for a spell, absorbing the sun’s offering for the day.

“Well, anyway,” Steffi said. “It’s high time you got over your fear of the sea. You’ve lived at its edge your entire life and you haven’t even put your feet in.”

“I don’t have to. And I don’t need to listen to you.” Syrena didn’t budge.

Gwyn snorted. “Grumpy this morning. . . .”

Syrena stood then, brushing off sand. She took several steps into the unknown, this time without her sisters, trying to feel her way back home but stumbled over driftwood.

“Here,” Gwyn said impatiently. “We’ll help you. We always do, you know. It’s because we love you and want to see you happy.”

“I know,” Syrena whispered. “Love you, too. Thanks,” she said, as her sisters grabbed a hand each and led her up the path from the beach.

A head popped out of the water not far from the coastline. Not one of the sisters noticed the keen eyes that watched the back of one girl in particular and had done so every day for a very long time. The wave he sent almost reached her this time, pulling her into his world. When would he ever hold her again?

Syrena.

Dagon dove to the darkest, deepest crook of his domain and sulked.

TREE LORD’S ORACLE

Gaping, Arekel tried to find words but couldn’t speak—only stare. Her heart palpitated in fear, yet she couldn’t pull away from him—couldn’t move.

He cocked his head. His brow furrowed. He pressed closer as if examining her. His snarl slowly wilted.

A strange sort of languish grew on the man’s face. His mouth and jaw shifted. Evil prevailed in him, yet it seemed as if Arekel opened a door to a dark room and in its depth a flicker of light, though very small, subsisted. In an odd way, it made her ache.

With tentativeness the man finally took hold of her face . . . but then his grip began to soften. He inclined his head again. “Warm,” he said, as if he’d never felt warmth. A long, cold finger delicately traced the line of her jaw. His voice purred like silk. “Fortunate,” he said, one side of his mouth curling upward. “You will live another day.”

ICE DANCER’S HOLD

Sasha’s heart hammered against her chest. She stared at Kilian, distrusting the vampyre. But after he had lifted her hands and brushed her palms with his sensuous lips, he sat upright with a deeply furrowed brow. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She could detect the tendon in his jaw that shifted as he glanced out the window at the falling snow. “That’s what’s strange.” He released her hands and stood.

She watched him, and felt the cloud of doubt that seemed to materialize from nowhere.

“The province from where I came is in the middle of an arctic.” He sighed. “My fortress is made of ice.” He lit a candle and then moved again toward the windows, whispering, “How I miss it.”

“I’m sorry for your unhappiness, Master.”

He turned partway and said, “Yes, you’ve said that before. At the water’s edge.”

“It’s true.”

“Well, then, I thank you.” He pursed his lips. “You are virtuous.”

She bowed her head.

He exhaled what sounded like the weight of his and her worlds combined. “Walk with me, Sasha.”

“I beg your pardon, Master?”

“A stroll. Come.” He extended his arm. Around his other arm draped a fur coat while heavy boots appeared at his feet.

She didn’t question his magic, but donned the items and then took his hand. “Will you not be cold, Master?”

“I cannot be touched by what I am. I am the cold, my dear.”

For whatever reason, Sasha felt glad Kilian didn’t address her as his sweet like he had Princess Kristyana. When he’d called her my dear, the endearment sounded dipped in a degree of respect. But that couldn’t be. She rubbed the fading sleep from her eyes. She was a slave and he, her master; she a fae and he a vampyre. Vampyres and faes didn’t go well together.

TRAILER

Tessa Stockton is a veteran of the performing arts and worldwide missions, having come from a long line of musical arts professionals. She loved seeing the world and absorbing the beauty of other cultures . . . an enriching life full of dance, music, faith, and interesting cuisine. Over the years, she also contributed as a writer/editor for ministry publications, ghostwriter for political content, and headed a column on the topic of forgiveness. Today, she writes fantasy, romance and political intrigue novels.

 
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Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords