Thursday, May 31, 2012
Blood and Whiskey
A Cowboy and Vampire Thriller
by Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall
Publication date: May 1, 2012
Fiction, Trade Paperback (362 pages) $14.95; e-book $4.99
ISBN: 978-0-9838200-1-7; Library of Congress Control Number: 2012902814
Wanted: Lizzie Vaughan, Dead or Alive
Relationships are always hard, but for a broke cowboy and a newly turned Vampire, true love may be lethal.
After barely surviving an undead apocalypse in The Cowboy and the Vampire, Tucker and Lizzie hightail it back to quirky LonePine, Wyoming (population 438), to start a family. But she’s got a growing thirst for blood and he’s realizing that mortality ain’t all it’s cracked up to be when your girlfriend may live forever. With a scheming Vampire nation hot on their boot heels and a price on her head, how far will Lizzie and Tucker go to protect their unlikely love?
Blending evolution, religion and an overly sensitive cow dog named Rex, Blood and Whiskey drags the Vampire myth into the modern west, delivering double-barreled action, heart-pounding passion and wicked humor.
Blood and Whiskey is a story of love, loyalty and loss in the modern American West. With meditations on the nature of good and evil, a new cosmology for vampires — including a meta-consciousness where vampire minds reside between deaths — and a cast of gritty, quirky, realistic western characters, Blood and Whiskey tangles the vampire and cowboy myths into a groundbreaking new “modern gothic western” genre.
BLOG TOUR GIVEAWAY:
Signed set of Book 1and Book 2 for the Cowboy and Vampire series (Cowboy and Vampire, and Blood andWhiskey). 2 sets to giveaway.
Entry into a drawing for a $50 Amazon gift card for anyone that posts a review on Amazon, Goodreadsor Powell's. Email authors at cowboyandvampire@gmail with link to review to be entered. It need not be a fancy review, just an indication of reading or wanting to read it.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
ADVANCE PRAISE FOR BLOOD AND WHISKEY-
“Riveting, existentialist underpinnings give it depth, the book is a thriller, upping the ante in every chapter, as bullets fly and relationships strain under the weight of old loyalties and new revelations …”
“It’s more than just the details that set this series apart. Rather, it’s the way the authors utilize those details to create meaningful conflicts and world-altering choices for the characters.”
“Those who missed out on the first book will really have to hang on if they want to follow what’s happening, but it’s worth it for this tale of love and blood in the modern West.”
PRAISE FOR THE COWBOY AND THE VAMPIRE
“Deliciously dark, witty.” Booklist
“A must read for fans of vampire fiction. It’s one of the best in the genre that I have read this year.” A Chick Who Reads Book Blog
“Rawhide romance with bloody fangs. The Cowboy and the Vampire delivers unremitting fun, and a damn good read.” Diana Troldahl, Freshfiction.com
“Writing duo Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall has succeeded in writing a unique story among all the vampire books that are out there today.” Bertena Varney, examiner.com
“Back from the dead!” Jeff Baker, The Oregonian
“Sexy, dark, witty, and nothing less.” Erin Cole, author of Grave Echoes
SERIES PUBLISHING HISTORY
Long before Twilight and Vampire Diaries, Llewellyn published the first book of a thriller series, The Cowboy and the Vampire, in 1999, in trade paperback, with a print run of 10,000 (which sold out). It then went out of print. In response to the Twilight and Vampire Diaries mania, Midnight Ink, an imprint of Llewellyn, released a second edition in 2010 with a print run of 6,000, and, for the first time, with an e-book edition. Blood and Whiskey, the second book in the thriller series, is now being published by Pumpjack Press. Both books are by husband and wife writing team Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall.
Clark Hays grew up in Montana in the shadow of the Tobacco Root Mountains. In addition to his fiction work, he is a cowboy, a published poet and occasional food critic. Recently, he was nominated for Pushcart Prize for short fiction and not so recently for a Rhysling award for poetry. Clark brings a deep knowledge about the modern west, weaponry, country music and existentialism to his writing.
Stuff Clark likes: sagebrush, the American West, clouds, whiskey and graphic novels. Stuff he hates: running quarterbacks, drivers who don’t use turn signals and the sound of flip-flops.
Kathleen McFall grew up in the heart of Washington, D.C. She worked as a petroleum geologist and, later, as a journalist, and has published hundreds of articles about scientific research, energy and natural resources. An interest in the overlap of science and mysticism are an essential aspect of her fiction writing. She received an Oregon Literary Arts Fellowship for fiction writing.
Stuff Kathleen likes: Russian literature, anarchy, martinis, lava and the ocean. Stuff she hates: intermissions, Halloween corn mazes and high-speed vehicular sandwiches. And the Muppets.
Blood and Whiskey
The Cowboy and Vampire Thriller Series, Book Two
The worst things in life always begin with a phone call.
When a young homeless woman is snatched from the streets of Portland, Oregon, she has time to make one terrified call to her uncle Lenny in tiny LonePine, Wyoming. A way-off-the-grid survivalist and paranoid conspiracy theorist, Lenny turns to his best friend Tucker for help.
But Tucker’s got his own problems, including a vampire girlfriend.
A perpetually broke, down-on-his-luck cowboy, Tucker fell hard for Lizzie, a whip smart, big city girl and hotshot reporter. To everyone’s surprise in LonePine (all 438 of them), she fell hard for him too.
Their unlikely love is central to The Cowboy and the Vampire: A Darkly Romantic Mystery when Lizzie finds out the awful truth about her dark heritage. Tucker, with a little help from his Dad, Lenny and an overly-sensitive cow dog named Rex, take on Lizzie’s maniacal vampire father and his beautiful consort Elita. It’s a blood-spattered undead apocalypse of terror and tumbleweeds.
In Blood and Whiskey, the second book in The Cowboy and Vampire Thriller Series, Tucker, Lizzie and the rest of the gang are back with a vengeance. Lizzie is pregnant, with a growing, unquenchable thirst for human blood and trouble on the horizon. The most powerful vampires from the ruling clans are headed to LonePine to test her new powers. If they find her lacking, Lizzie, her growing baby, and all of LonePine will be destroyed — not that it would take very long.
It’s certainly an inconvenient time for Tucker to take a road trip, but sometimes friendship trumps common sense. With a duffle bag of improvised weapons, he sets out for Portland with Lenny to find the kidnapped girl. They end up in remote Plush, Oregon, where — smack dab in the middle of the sagebrush desert — they uncover a human blood farm run by a fearsome cowboy enemy resurrected from the Old West. His name is Henry Plummer and his sights are set on Lizzie.
As the truth about what they have uncovered dawns on Tucker and Lenny, they rush back to LonePine. The Vampire Illuminati have already arrived, including Rurik, a handsome Russian vampire angling to take Tucker’s place next to Lizzie.
How far will Lizzie and Tucker go to protect their unlikely love?
Learn more and stay in touch:
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Cover image for Blood and Whiskey
Author publicity photo: Hays and McFall
Cowboy and Vampire art by Aaron Perkins
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Due to her unusual birth, Amber has abilities no other werewolf has ever possessed. On the run since childhood, the lone wolf avoids contact with other werewolves at all cost, continually moving, constantly looking over her shoulder and always alone.
Everything changes when Amber saves a werewolf from the mere brink of death, Blake, the only werewolf to ever protect her. Love blossoms, but not without tribulations when Amber realizes she must help her new pack rescue a member who is being held hostage by a rival pack.
Warring with emotions of going from lone wolf to the pack leader’s mate, Amber must decide if she is willing to risk Blake’s life to know true family and friendship despite the fact that the Council is hell bent on locating her and will stop at nothing until she is found. Will Amber’s special abilities be enough to keep everyone safe?
*To read my interview with author MaryLynn Bast click HERE
Book is available at: Amazon ~ Paperback
I would say this book is more suitable for ages 18+ than very young adults because of the love scenes bordering on erotic more than YA romance (In my opinion). With that said I will begin my review, saying that I love the cover! That wolf moon is just gorgeous! ^-^ ...I have to admit the cover is what mostly drew me to want to review this book.
I love werewolf stories, especially those with a female heroine, so I was exicited to read this book. The book began with lots of information on Amber's past thrown at you, that at times became confusing. But after a few chapters into the book, the story began to take shape.
Amber is a werewolf on the run. Hunted by the council and used to being alone, with no pack of her own.
She's only known love once, and that was with Blake. A friend she made while living in a shelter for young werewolves, but because everyone she gets close to ends up dead, she never pursued the desire of being more than a friend with him...until years later when she rescues him from a wreck and he enters her life once again.
In love, and now part of a pack she now faces the challenges she's always run away from all her life. With her old pack and the council still searching for her, Amber must protect the man she loves and her new pack in order to survive.
This book is packed with all the paranomal elements expected in a paranormal novel. I really liked how author, MaryLynn Bast made her werewolf heroine possess powers not seen in other werewolf novels. The twist and turns will keep you wanting more!
I would have loved to rate this book 5 stars but because of editing errors, confusion in the begining with too many point of views thrown at you, and the very graphic love scenes (although the first scene was very well written, the rest I felt was too repetitive and lacked romance and for a hopeless romantic like myself it just wasn't my cup of tea) but the story in itself is a great read and I actually look forward to reading the second book.
I recommend No Remorse to any werewolf, paranormal fan.
Journey Across the Four Seas, A Chinese woman's search for home
By Veronica Li
Release date: November 1, 2006
Published by: Homa & Sekey Books
Genre: Biography, Memoirs, Ethnic & National
This is a true and touching story of one Chinese woman's search for home. It is also an inspiring book about human yearning for a better life. To escape poverty, Flora Li fought her way through the education system and became one of the few women to get into the prestigious Hong Kong University. When the Japanese invaded, she fled to unoccupied China, where she met her future husband, the son of China's finance minister (later deputy prime minister).
She thought she had found the ideal husband, but soon discovered that he suffered from emotional disorders caused by family conflicts and the wars he had grown up in. Whenever he had a breakdown, Flora would move the family to another city, from Shanghai to Nanking to Hong Kong to Bangkok to Taipei and finally across the four seas to the U.S. Throughout her migrations, Flora kept her sight on one goal; Providing her children with the best possible education.
Amazon ~ Paperback
I rarely read memoirs or biography books. This book was presented to me by the author and I thank her for allowing me to read and review her book. I enjoyed every page of it, as I journeyed with her mother Flora Li through 1941 China and became a part of her world through the great storytelling found in this book.
Journey Across the Four Seas is a book about a woman who struggled through poverty, war, seperation, diease, failed love and came through with strength and perserverance. Although she goes through alot of hardships, the mood of the book is not sad. Flora's strength and her ability to fight through it all comes through in every line.
This is a book that even people who normally don't read memoirs will enjoy.
The story is of a young woman, Flora Li, who overcomes poverty and the social pressure to find her place in the world. Flora Li is someone we can easily relate to as a friend, mother, grandmother, and sister. Her struggles and triumph is something we see in our own families, and in every generation and every cultural background.
We follow her from childhood to motherhood...hardship to triumph. Against all odds, she continued her education all the way to Hong Kong University during the time the Japanese invaded China. For fear of what the Japanese were doing to the Chinese, Flora escaped Hong Kong for remote locations in China not controlled by the Japanese, and that is when the journey begins....
Beautifully written from a daughters point of view (but narrated in Flora's point of view) about her mothers journey in life.
I highly recommend this book!
Where you can find author Veronica Li:
Facebook: Veronica Li Author
Goodreads: Veronica Li
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
The Earth Painter
By Melissa Lee
Genre: Paranormal YA
When a self-conscious young woman discovers the boy in drama class is actually the immortal who painted the world into being, she becomes the target of another painter who hates humanity. The Earth Painter is a Young Adult Supernatural Romance set in the small mill town of Chesnee, SC.
It revolves around Holly Scruggs, who's family has just moved back to Chesnee after her dad lost his job along with pretty much everything they owned.
Her image conscious parents correct her to the point of brokenness until she meets Theo. He is the artist responsible for all the beauty of the land and he thinks Holly is beautiful too.
Together they will fight against Fritz, the water painter who hates humans and is hiding a secret under the high school.
About the Author:
Melissa Lee is a wife and stay-at-home-mom of 3 young boys.
She’s been making up stories in her head for as long as she can remember but only got serious about it in 2007, after reading Twilight and rediscovering her own dreams to write.
Finally, she put her Journalism degree to use and started writing and hasn’t stopped since. She has studied fiction writing at various conferences, and from numerous writing coaches.
She signed her first contract with Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing in 2011
Monday, May 28, 2012
A Skinwalker’s Legacy
By Shae Wynters
Lexia Torrance is a young woman with the gift of second sight. Her ability allows the Phoenix Police Department to solve crimes based on the gift of touch. Her latest case leads her to the body of a local man left with the killers' calling card—an emblem burned on the victim's chest in the shape of a sun. She soon finds herself facing five men looking for the necklace with the same emblem…and they are determined to find her as well...
Galen Cortes knows the immense ability deep inside Lexia as well as her destiny to take the throne as Skinwalker Chieftess to the southwest tribe. As a guard of the tribe, Galen has sworn to protect Lexia and teach her the truth about her powers. Despite what his heart feels, he knows a guard isn’t supposed to get too close to a betrothed Chieftess. But his fiery passion may soon override his rational thought.
With a murderous Lycan tribe on their tail and only a few hours to spare once Lexia learns her birthright, Galen will only have a day to teach her what those before her learned in a lifetime. Before their time is over, passion will erupt between the guard and his ruler, a fateful battle will dawn between two tribes and a new Chieftess will arise within the nocturnal hours…
A Skinwalker's Legacy GIVEAWAY! Author Shae Wynters is giving away 10 ebook copies of the book!
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Lexia Torrance didn’t know when the soft classical music streaming from her television disappeared into the silence of her mind. Her conscious thought transitioned into the hushed, wistful nature of her dream state. She was like a cinematographer, now standing back and watching herself buried under the covers.
She was somewhere else.
The shadows creeping around the rooms told her it was nighttime. A warm glow of red, yellow and orange flickered from around the corner. She felt herself floating toward that room and as she turned the corner, she saw a tall figure.
The tall man wore a red flannel coat and blue jeans. His long, dark hair fell down his back. He was large, a mixture of both muscle and body fat beneath his bronze skin. He turned around with a gasp and his expression quickly turned to anger. A strong handsome face stared back at her. The prominent bone structure told her of his Navajo ancestry. Perhaps he was from the same local tribe as her grandmother. He wore a colorful beaded necklace that reminded her of the one with the same design that her father had given her.
She couldn’t turn to see who he was looking at, but she felt them. Thick tension, bitter and black as ink filled the air like a dark shadow. Something felt familiar about their presence but she couldn’t quite figure it out. She watched the man before her stand to attention. His face, a shade of golden brown with strong cheekbones and a lined jaw was tense. His dark brown eyes focused ahead with a veil of hardness that was a visible defense.
“Where is it?” the man asked, gritting his teeth.
The man before her shook his head. “You have no right to be here. Leave now and I won’t tell the council what you came for or what you’re doing.”
“You know who you’re speaking to, Micah?”
“A deranged power hungry prince, that’s whom. I won’t help you on your sick quest for power. Not over the tribe or her.”
Laughter filled the air, making her shiver from the ominous edge. “You have some moxie. I see why they gave it to you. But now it’s time to give up the necklace before I really get pissed.”
The man folded his arms and stood tall. “No one but the next Chieftess is to have possession of it. I’ve seen the way you look at it at the ceremonies. Like a power hungry lion waiting to catch its prey. Something is wrong with you and I’ll see that the Chieftess knows about it before she makes a mistake.”
The man named Micah made an attempt to move but was stopped by two other men in dark suits.
“Now, now Micah. You can’t stop what is already in motion. Either you’re a part of it or you’re a victim. I’ve given you one chance for the former. Now here is your second. I want the trinket I came for and since you’re so enamored with being the good warrior, I want the girl as well. Where is she? I know she lives in town.”
“She isn’t ready yet. She needs training.”
“You know the fate of the one who stands between a Skinwalker and his mate?”
“You mean a predator and his prey.”
That eerie laughter pierced the air again. “Whichever you choose. The end result will still be the same.”
Micah’s gaze darted from each man. Lexia wished she could keep up the count of how many were in the room. Even more, she wished she could turn to see the man speaking. Something told her she had to know and remember.
“I suppose you know where she is then?”
The man’s face grew blank before he shook his head. “You won’t find her.”
The scene flashed and two men held Micah down on the ground. His shirt was open, baring his thick chest, while a smoking hand clutching an unseen item branded a mark on his heart. His screams echoed throughout her dreams. She had to wake up. Why couldn’t she wake up?
She moved back to get a look at the man’s torturer. But as he moved into her line of vision, a loud ringing filled her ears.
Lexia’s eyes shot open into the darkness of the bedroom. The wireless phone blared to life on the table next to her bed. She looked outside the window where the night still claimed the city of Phoenix. The clear sky gave a view of a half-moon amidst the tall trees aligning her backyard. It took her a moment to realize that whoever was calling this late wouldn’t give up until she answered.
She pushed herself off the bed with a sigh and yanked the phone off the cradle.
“Yeah? Torrance here,” she said. Her voice was still heavy with sleep, and her mind still hummed with the loud, ear-piercing scream. Heat crept in her face as if she felt the man’s skin burning away before her eyes. It felt so real. But it wasn’t…was it?
“Sorry to wake you, kid,” the familiar voice of her boss, Rudy, echoed over the receiver. “I tried your office first but when you weren’t there, I figured you already crashed for the night. I would’ve let you sleep this one out but we’re going to need your expertise. Dead body here looks like a ritual killing by a cult or gang. I’m running some tests to see if it fits any initiation MO’s and we should have the results by morning. The vic’s place looks like a robbery but there aren’t any prints or signs that anyone was here besides the victim. No forced entry and only one room looks like a hurricane flew through it. Obviously they were looking for something and had an idea where it was.”
Lexia wiped her eyes. “You think they knew each other?”
“It’s possible but only speculation at this point.”
“Sounds like you guys ran tests already.” Lexia tried to focus on what little information she could deduce from Rudy’s description despite her mind replaying pieces of the dream.
“What little we could but it would sure help if you could feel the place out for us. Tell us what they were looking for and when they hit. Things like that. I estimate it happened an hour ago so they couldn’t have gotten too far.”
“All right,” Lexia leaned over to look at the digital clock on her nightstand. The red numbers blurred but she blinked a few times to clear her vision. Twelve forty-five. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She waited until Rudy finished giving her the vic’s address before she bid goodbye and hung up. Her mind was still on cloud nine as she tossed the covers off the bed and swung her feet onto the carpet.
The room had somehow grown warmer since she fell asleep as if a fire was burning nearby. Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 in Allegretto played from the digital music channel on the television. The light from the set illuminated her entire bedroom, cascading everything in a flicker of light against the darkness.
What just happened?
That was the first time she dreamed something so real. Normally when she fell into one of those dream states so quickly, it was when she was getting a feeling at a crime scene.
Lexia pulled her hairband out and shook her silky strands free around her shoulders. As she combed her fingers through her hair, she tried to coax herself back to the present. This was no time to have her head in the clouds over some crazy dream. She needed all her senses working tonight if she was going to be of any help to Rudy and his team.
Clearing her mind, Lexia immediately replaced any traces of the dream with the preparation for her investigation. First, she had to find something comfortable to wear. She had a feeling this was going to be a long night.
Today I would love to welcome author Shae Wynters to my blog. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself...
Hi there! Thanks so much for having me!
I'm Shae Wynters. I've been writing since I was about in my late teens and I have always loved the beauty of storytelling. I blame my folks for getting me into ready early which eventually led to the writing bug. It wasn't until recently (say, a few years or so ago) where I fell whole hog into my love of romance. Being a speculative fiction fan, I always loved the fantastical but with the emergence of paranormal romance and urban fantasy, I was in a whole new world! I also had a whole ton of new favorite authors to add to my reading list (which is never a bad thing)!
Who or what inspired you to become a writer? I'd say my parents because they gave me a love for the written word and for telling stories. I school, my favorite class was English and I remember one teacher who recognized my love and skills for writing who then suggested I talk to the creative writing teacher. He was the best mentor! He taught me the basics of storytelling, how to write in a compelling way and how to nip those pesky resolutions in the bud.
How long did it take you to write A Skinwalker's Legacy? It took a few months to write A Skinwalker's Legacy. It was a challenge to myself to end it in a month or two and I kept track of my progress each day. I'd sit myself down and write as long as I could to each end scene. Naturally the first draft is a bit different from this finished, published version (for instance, Lexia's last name changed and a few scenes were added) but it felt so good to finish the book in record time so I can sit it aside and then start the clean up edits afterward. It was probably the best writing discipline exercise I challenged for myself!
While writing how many times do you go back and rewrite a plot? I usually don't mess with the plot once it's in my head. The scenes may change and the direction of the story may change but the main plot usually stays the same while the process of writing it explores the different nooks and crannies that define the overall story. I love writing organically like this because I'm discovering the story and characters much like a reader would. The bonus is when things happen that completely take me by surprise or when my characters take actions that I never saw coming.
You run into a bookstore, where do you go first?
Probably the bargain section lol. I love a good deal. As for category sections, I would probably start at sci-fi and fantasy and then work my way to romance and then to mystery/thrillers. After that probably magazines to see what the latest topics are being featured.
How many books in a month do you tend to read? Oh gosh, not as much as I would like! I used to knock out about 10 but life gets in the way and I have to start juggling the writing, the reading and other things in life. Nowadays I'm reading up to about 3-5 but once I get settled and as soon as I get on vacation, I'm hoping to get more books read. Goodness knows I need to because my reading pile is becoming a mountain!
In all the books you've read. Who is your most favorite character and why? Probably Jamie Fraser from the Outlander series. Like many women I fell in love with the hero, especially how noble he was mixed with his passion and dedication to his lady. You couldn't ask for a better hero!
State 5 random facts about yourself.
~I'm a pumpkin addict.
~I'm meticulously organized with my computer files.
~I'm a classic tv addict.
~My favorite Golden Girl is Dorothy.
~I'm what some would call a 'conspiracy theorist' only I call it a conspiracy realist. ;-)
Your favorite Genre? The speculative genre.
What are you currently reading? Soldier's Rescue Mission by Cindy Dees
What is the best book you've read? Oh, that's so tough because I've read so many awesome ones!
Any new projects coming up? I have a few: a contemporary romance with this pen name, two continuing series on my main pen and some novellas including a historical romance and short sci-fi romance. I have a full plate by time has definitely been testing me lately!
Here’s your chance to market your book. Describe it. And why readers should pick it up?
A prophecy within the Skinwalker tribe deems that only royals within the tribe families must unite to continue ruling the community. Lexia Torrance is a police assistant with the gift of second sight. She is the next in line to rule the Southwest tribe and to marry a dangerous, betrothed prince. When Galen Cortes--the half-Fae/half-Skinwalker guard sent to watch her--begins their training, passion threatens to consume them and the fate of the Skinwalker community’s future hangs in the balance.
This story features: a kickin', strong heroine who is also vulnerable enough to let her defenses down; a powerful, sexy and masculine hero who isn't afraid to let a little thing like station get in the way of what he wants; an evil dark prince thirsty for power and hungry to take our heroine and test her strength. Also lost of heated passion, suspense and a modern love story that will hopefully satisfy many readers' cravings!
*recommended for ages 18 +up for adult content
This book was a great read. It's filled with action, suspence, heat and it will have you flipping pages wanting more! The story follows Lexia, a devoted police officer and a skinwalker chieftess (although she doesn't know it yet.) This book is packed with action from the very begining! A murder, mystery, kidnapping...
Then comes Galen Cozel, a guard sent to protect the Skinwalker Chieftess. He tells Lexia about her family's history and how she is to marry the Lycan, Damien, in order to secure the survival of their people. Only problem is Damien is the one leading the murderous Lycan tribe trying to find and kill her!
Having to put his feelings toward Lexia aside, Galen, must remind himself that a guards job is to protect and ensure the safety of the Skinwalker Chieftess and not to get in the way of the oral prophecy passed down through the years...But that can be easier said than done...
First he has to expose the true nature of Damien to the tribe and protect the woman he loves...
As always, I don't like to give away too much of the story, but I can say, that this is a great quick story to get wrapped up in. Filled with Skinwalkers, Shifters, Lycans, Faeries...action and romance. Author Shae Wynters did an awesome job creating a world of paranormal that will remain in your mind long after reading the book. I highly recommend this book.
About the Author:
Shae Wynters is the pen name of an award winning, best selling author who has been writing for more than twenty years and has been professionally published for eleven years. A bonafide vampire, fantasy, sensual romance and speculative fiction lover, Shae sometimes meshes all these elements together for a rip roaring story to entertain her spectrum of readers.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
A Maurin Kincaide Novel
By Rachel Rawlings
Maurin Kincaide is a psychometric investigator for Salem's Supernatural Task Force. She's spent the last few years working crime scenes and using the memory links in fingerprints to catch criminals.
When the current bad guy turns out to be a demon, Maurin must work with Seamus--the task force's prime suspect for unleashing said demon.
She follows Seamus deeper into the supernatural community and discovers there's a lot more going on than anyone guessed. Our unique investigator is quickly enlisted from her day job by the Council, a secret governing body of all things Other.
They want her to find out more about the abundance of demons in Salem and who might be controlling them...
Available at: Amazon ~ Paperback
Tour wide Giveaway is 4 sets of aSigned Copy of the Morrigna by Rachel Rawlings and a necklace
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Today I would love to welcome author Rachel Rawlings to my blog. Let us begin with a little blurb about yourself...
Hi Nilsa, thanks for having me on your book blog. I’m an author of Paranormal/Urban fantasy, wife, mother of three and full time manager and partner in my mom’s salon. I’m hoping to turn the dream job into my day job!
Who or what inspired you to become a writer? I’ve always dabbled in writing. Even when I was a kid I would write poetry or start a story. I never finished them but I would have notebooks full of stories.
How long did it take you to write The Morrigna? A little over a year from start to finish. I wrote at night after the kids were in bed or on my lunch breaks. I’d scribble notes on anything remotely close to paper.
While writing how many times do you go back and rewrite a plot? I don’t typically rewrite the plot. I start with a mental outline and let it develop as I go. It’s really organic when I write. I find that after a few chapters the characters are telling me what’s going to happen. I do go back and reread the last few chapters before I start each day and tweak conversations or little details though.
You run into a bookstore, where do you go first? The Sci-Fi/Fantasy section of course. I’m a creature of habit. I know what I like and there are always plenty of books to find within my genre. I’m a sucker for the classics too. I was at Barnes and Noble with my nine year old daughter a couple weeks ago salivating over their display of beautifully bound books like Pride and Prejudice and a collection of Edgar Allan Poe. I took pictures. How nerdy is that? Lol.
How many books in a month do you tend to read? At my peak I was reading a book a day. Lately with my day job requiring more time I haven’t been able to read as much. I spend my spare time writing.
In all the books you've read. Who is your most favorite character and why? Oh this is a tough one. Do I have to pick just one? I think I’ll go with Lestat. I don’t really know why. I just love him. He’s mischievous, bratty and terribly flawed but I loved his story.
State 5 random facts about yourself.
~I didn’t go to college.
~My kids are all five and a half years apart. (totally not on purpose)
~The house I live in now is the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere.
~I’ve moved over 36 times.
~I’ve been married for sixteen years.
Your favorite Genre? Paranormal/Urban fantasy. It’s a broad genre but the diversity is what makes it so great.
What are you currently reading? Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter
What is the best book you've read? It’s more than one but I have to list it as a set. Tolkien’s A Hobbit’s Tale through Return of the King. I never get tired of reading those books. As a stand alone Poe’s A Tell Tale Heart.
Any new projects coming up? I’m currently working on my second book in the series Witch Hunt. Maurin, the main character of The Morrigna picks up right where she left off.
Here’s your chance to market your book. Describe it. And why readers should pick it up?
The Morrigna is a slightly dark, faced paced Urban Fantasy with a strong female lead. If you’re looking for a little more bullets and octane than leather and lace this series is right up your alley.
As psychometric investigator for Salem's Preternatural Task Force, Maurin Kincaide has spent the last few years using the memory links left behind in fingerprints to catch the bad guys. When the bad guy turns out to be a demon, Maurin is forced to work with Seamus, S.P.T.F.'s prime suspect for unleashing him. Forced to follow Seamus deeper into the supernatural community she had only previously lived on the outskirts of, Maurin discovers there is more than one demon moving into Salem. The Council, the governing body of all things Other, enlists Maurin into their ranks to stop the demon army and discover who is controlling control them.
Where you can find author Rachel Rawlings:
Facebook: The Maurin Kincaide Series
Goodreads: Rachel Rawlings
Website: currently working on one…but it will be www.rachelrawlings.com
Other: I’m on Shelfari too. I haven’t quite figured it all out yet but I love that I have a visible bookshelf there.
I’d been leaning up against this wall like I was the only thing holding it up for twenty minutes. Not even at work an hour and my feet were already screaming about my choice of knee high black leather stiletto boots. They looked better with my skirt than the sensible heels I usually wore; I tried rationalizing to my feet. What the hell was taking Masarelli so long in there anyway?
A few minutes ago I rapped on the door to remind him I was still out here. And not going anywhere no matter how bad he wanted to do this interrogation by himself. I fought the urge to step back when I heard him stomping toward the door. “Five minutes”, he all but growled at me before slamming the door in my face.
So there I was stuck in the hall waiting for him to finally open the door, giving me access to the interrogation room and the man in for questioning. Not to mention a damned chair. If I stood here much longer the boots were coming off. I’m not exactly sure what these boots were made for, they obviously weren’t the ones Nancy Sinatra sang about and standing sure as hell wasn’t it either.
I glanced at my watch. Six minutes. Times up I thought. Patience may be a virtue but I sure don’t have any. I could hear Masarelli’s temper rising through the door. Surely that was more from his lack of progress than my lack of patience. I may not be his favorite person in the world but we’ve always managed to work together before.
“That better be your friggin’ attorney, because if it’s not I’ve got some pretty creative ways of making you talk.” He practically spat the last few words in my face as he opened the door.
Lucky for him I wasn’t an attorney or he may be facing some charges. Any other day I might have backed down from his lack of control over his temper but not today. If he wanted to slip on my stiletto boots and stand out in this hallway for almost half an hour we could see how many times he knocked on the door.
At five foot eight his height was average but he knew how to fill a doorway. I smoothed the front of my charcoal gray skirt and did my best to ignore his glare. At my five two it wasn’t that hard to do. I stared at the stains on his tie, avoiding eye contact, and pushed my way passed him. He may not want me to question this suspect but it was my job and come hell or high water I was going to do it. He’d just have to swallow his pride along with his short comings as an interrogator and let me work.
After three years of working with Masarelli on Salem’s Preternatural Task Force (S.P.T.F.) as the psychometric interrogator I still couldn’t figure him out. Why would a “Norm” who’s obviously as uncomfortable around the “Others” as he is be working here? He seemed more like an F.B.I suit to me, not someone who’d be working with psychics, witches, vamps and weres. Yet here he was getting in my way.
I wasn’t more than two feet into the room when the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. There was definitely something different about this suspect. Besides his unusual size. Though I must admit that did give me a second’s pause as I noticed he not only had the height of a basketball player but the width of a linebacker. No, it was something that had my other senses on high alert. There was power rippling through the room and it was more than my psychic energy. What the hell was this guy anyway? No way to find out but to touch him I guess.
I hated to touch anyone with my shields down, especially a six foot seven; easily two hundred and seventy five pound stranger who was radiating a power I couldn’t quite register but I didn’t have a choice. There was no empty cup, pack of cigarettes, not even a pen on the table. Not one thing he touched that I could use. If I wanted to follow the memory link we all leave behind in our fingerprints I was going to have to shake his hand.
“Well it’s not your attorney asshole but you lucked out anyway. This is Detective Kincade. Kincade this is Seamus (Shaymus) O’Neill, summoner and general practitioner of the Dark Arts.”
About the Author:
Rachel Rawlings was born and raised in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. Her family, originally from Rhode Island, spent summers in New England, sparking her fascination with Salem, MA.
She has been writing fictional stories and poems since middle school, but it wasn't until three years ago that she found the inspiration to create her heroine Maurin Kincaide and complete her first full length novel, The Morrigna.
She is currently working on Witch Hunt, book two of The Maurin Kincade Series, with book three Blood Bath not far behind it. She still lives in Maryland with her husband, three children and two fish.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Title: The Bird With The Broken Wing
Author: D L Richardson
Genre: Paranormal, Young-adult
Publisher: Etopia Press
"When mortals make mistakes they’re forgiven. When angels make mistakes they’re forsaken. Angels may not reveal themselves to mortals. But when the mortal Rachael’s watching over is hurting, how can she stay hidden in the shadows?
Guardian angel Rachael becomes trapped with the mortal she’s been assigned to watch over. Unable to watch him suffer, she decides the only way to free him of his inner demons is to break the rules about becoming involved, revealing her true identity, and applying divine intervention. But what choice does she have? Without her help, his soul will be trapped forever. Then a stranger appears, giving Rachael reason to wonder if his is the only soul in need of saving...”
~ Amazon ~ B&N ~ OmniLit ~ KoBo ~ Sony ~ AmazonUK ~
She was a chronic worrier—
“I have a bad feeling about this, Ben.”
—and a touch melodramatic.
“This is suicide. It’s also stupid, morally wrong, and pointless. And did I mention suicide?”
Ben wasn’t listening. He was reaching a hand inside the open neck of his shirt. She’d spent enough time with him to know he was touching the cross on the necklace that had once belonged to his dad.
“Detached, that’s how you make me feel, Ben. Like I’m watching your life through a window.”
Striking up an old conversation was hardly creative, yet the feeling of not belonging with him was just as strong now. She gave a heavy, audible sigh but Ben wasn’t taking the bait. “A bubble. I live in a bubble.”
“Relax.” Ben closed his eyes as he sucked up a deep, dusty red breath like he was meditating on Mars. “Everything will be all right.”
As well as a chronic worrier and a touch melodramatic, she was also an eternal optimist. So she looked around in case she was missing something, but all she saw was proof to the contrary. She, Ben, and a few hundred others were in a convoy, crossing a desert that appeared to be empty, yet the drivers had dodged gun and mortar fire since they’d passed over the border an hour ago.
What this land must have looked like when it’d been fertile with lush, green trees and wide, blue rivers was hard to imagine, but she tried. Her eyes had closed for a second when a burst of gunfire to her right jolted them wide open again.
“We signed up for non-combat jobs, remember?” She wondered if punching him in the head would do any good.
Probably not. If her bubble-hands were too weak to smash through the invisible wall surrounding her, they’d be like wet rags against his thick skull. Plus he was wearing a metal helmet and she was likely to break more than a nail.
“We’re meant to be back home making trucks. That’s what we were promised we’d be doing. Jeez, Ben. Think about your mom.”
Perhaps he was. Perhaps many of the soldiers here were thinking about loved ones they’d left behind. Many of the men and women seated on either side of her had grave expressions, like tufts of unruly hair, peeking out from underneath their helmets. Or were they just scared?
Maybe a sense of duty impelled them to enter a war zone. Responsibility was her only motive; she certainly wasn’t here for the ambience. And she would rather have thrown herself under the truck’s heavy wheels than dodge her responsibilities. So with an dramatic sigh—in case during the past minute Ben had suddenly developed the ability to take a hint—she settled back into the role of accepting what she couldn’t change while wishing that she could.
A round of cheers sprang up from a group of soldiers at the back of the truck, a malevolent presence screaming as if newly born and was demanding to be fed. She shivered and huddled closer to Ben.
It can be the brightest day, but fill it with just one dark soul and the day is ruined.
She made a mental note to keep well clear of these soldiers. She hoped Ben was smart enough to do the same.
“I’m here to keep my homeland safe.” The tremor in Ben’s voice was at odds with his bold statement. She wanted to tell him he could’ve made trucks at home, but because his eyes were fixed on his boots she succumbed to the rhythm of the back-jarring ride across the pothole-filled road and held her breath, hoping it wouldn’t be her last.
Their convoy of flatbed trucks was carrying hundreds of troops, weapons, ammunition, Abrams tanks, armored personnel carriers, and Humvees to the compound, their base for the next six months. With any luck they’d move out faster than they were moving in. Their convoy was doing twenty miles an hour, but she felt as if ants could have passed them.
She wanted to laugh as she pictured tiny insects kicking up orange dust, flipping the bird at the drivers and shouting obscenities. Instead, she bit her lower lip. This was neither the time nor the place to flaunt her eternal optimism. Besides, she wasn’t sure she had any cheerfulness left in her.
“I still don’t see why we’re here,” she mumbled.
What made the trip seem slower, she realized, was the lack of perspective. Much like an ocean without any land mass to help judge distance, this desert seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of them. If only the drivers would go faster; it had to be harder to hit a quicker-moving target. She was tempted to grab Ben by the collar and pull him off the truck, but the heat was around a hundred degrees, and with all the gear packed on them—M-247, M-249, backpack, flak jacket, radio, helmet, goggles—it would’ve been like sprinting around inside an oven.
Sand began to whirl in all directions, marching up and down the convoy as if sizing it up to establish whether it could be swallowed whole. This was the most dangerous time for the convoy. The trucks had to slow to a crawl or risk running into each other or off the road. Their only saving grace was that the enemy was exposed to the same elements. So while the soldiers couldn’t see a thing, they also couldn’t be seen. At least that was her theory.
Time went by. Soldiers weren’t killed so everyone began to relax a little and make conversation. But when the flatbed truck passed a burned-out tank on the side of the road, everyone went quiet. Nobody could take their eyes off the ruins. Despite wanting to look away out of respect, she was enthralled.
Did everyone want to know the same thing she did? Had the tank internally combusted from the constant battering of the sun? Nice concept, but this damage had been caused by man. Judging by the looks on their faces, everyone knew that. When the eyes of the soldiers around her widened she guessed they had silently asked another question. Was this one of their tanks or the enemy’s?
They lowered their eyes and she had her answer.
“Do you think they got out before it got hit?” she asked.
Ben didn’t respond, but from the rear of the truck the loud-mouthed soldiers yelled, “Oh yeah, you’re gonna get it now, you freakin’ sons of bitches.” Cheers followed. Even if she’d known what insults to hurl at these soldiers, she reminded herself that she’d sworn moments ago to steer clear of these men. So she kept her gaze forward and her mouth shut.
Like a good soldier. A ripple of self-loathing rose and lodged in her throat. She’d never have guessed it would taste so foul.
Outside, the sand was swirling faster as though thrown about by a crèche load of bad-tempered toddlers, and pretty soon both the ground and sky were painted flame orange, crackling like an open fire. She was afraid to breathe. Soldiers pulled down their goggles to cover their eyes, but this action was a useless defense against the sand that bit into their exposed flesh.
The dust cleared, and finally, the convoy arrived at the compound. Without a word, she and everyone else began unloading the contents of the flatbed trucks—smaller trucks, enough guns to keep the war going for centuries, tanks, food, water and whatever other supplies they’d need for the next six months.
Breathing was difficult. This was the most physical work she’d performed in ages. When she stopped for a break, resentment at the lies welled inside her. Tears stung her eyes. “Forget home sweet home, this place is home sweat home.”
Each and every soldier was drenched from top to bottom from the exertion of working under the glaring sun. Their sweat filled the air; she could have sworn she was in a sauna. Optimism dripped off her forehead. She wiped at her brow and was surprised when her hand came away wet, not with sweat but something else.
No tears. At least not for herself.
After half an hour, a few companies got into the smaller trucks and disappeared, perhaps to do their hard labor in another section of the growing heat. Another hour after that, once everything had been unloaded, the company she and Ben were assigned to was ordered into one of the smaller trucks, and they too left.
A sergeant with silver hair and eyes was seated in the front. He looked the type who was too mean to have ever had a pet. For long.
“You pussies will stand guard at the hospital for the next twenty-four hours,” the sergeant bellowed. “You will each do two twelve-hour shifts, one shift inside the hospital, one outside.”
“When do we get time to shoot the enemy?” the kid next to Ben asked. For one so young his eyes were hard, like steel.
“Don’t be fooled. The enemy is out there.” The sergeant’s gravelly voice roared as loudly as the aircraft parading over their heads. “If you ladies find yourself in a threatening situation, well, you know what to do. Are you pussies prepared to protect your fellow countrymen?”
A roar of cheers engulfed the truck. If the enemy hadn’t known they were here before, they were well aware of it now.
“Shoot first and ask questions later. That’s what he means.” The kid inched his way closer toward Ben. “You ever shot a bear? They come at you even after you’ve pumped ten rounds in ’em. I’ve heard it’s the same with these bastards. You shoot ’em and shoot ’em, but they keep coming at you with guns and knives. All the while cursing at you in the Devil’s language. You got to be careful not to touch ’em either. Their blood is poison.”
“I doubt we’ll shoot anyone at a hospital.” Ben scowled and moved along the bench as best as he could without falling off the edge. The kid must have gotten the hint because he kept quiet after that.
Unaffected by the searing heat outside, the truck chugged along until it rolled up outside a hospital that had weathered grenade blasts and gunfire till it resembled a thousand-year-old relic.
For some, this was their first time on foreign soil. For others, this was simply another day at work. Yet everyone jumped off the truck and danced boxer-like on their feet as though something invisible was going to jump out from the air and snatch them.
The sky above was on the go with Apache helicopters, hellfire missiles, dust, and jet stream. On the ground was a different story. The air barely stirred. No sign of anyone or anything with a pulse, let alone the dreaded enemy. Aside from one or two civilians she could see sneaking peeks at the soldiers from around corners of shattered buildings, the street was empty. So why could she feel the distinct presence of something out there? Watching, waiting, and blistering with hatred at this invasion.
“Each and every one of you signed a contract with the U.S. Army, which means your asses belong to me,” shouted the sergeant. His eyes scanned the soldiers with no more than a passing glance, as though he already considered them obsolete. “Your mommies can’t help you now. So if any of you pussies don’t want to be here, you can kiss my red, white, and blue behind. Now secure the building and welcome to hell.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
D L (Deborah Louise) Richardson is an author of Young Adult fiction. She has run a secondhand clothing store and was bass player/lead vocalist in a band she helped form. Today she is a writer. The Bird With The Broken Wing is her debut novel. She lives in Australia on the NSW South Coast with her husband and dog. When she’s not writing or reading she can be found practicing her piano, playing the guitar or walking the dog.
Find the author at:
Link to full tour schedule: http://fmbblogtours.blogspot.com/2012/04/tour-schedule-bird-with-broken-wing-by.html
This tour was put together by FMB Blog Tours
A House of Slide Novel
By Juliann Whicker
Genre: Paranormal Upper YA
He stole a kiss from the wrong girl…
Left without a soul, 17-year-old Dariana Sanders waited to die. There was nothing left to live for, nothing to feel besides the aching cold that never stopped.
Her parent’s marriage was in shambles, and her brother, the only one who understood, the only one who knew how to make the cold go away, was gone forever.
The only thing Dariana knew with absolute certainty was that nothing could possibly be right again.
Enter Lewis Axel Nialls. Luckily for her, impossible is right up his alley.
He can save her from the forces that wish to destroy her. Of course who’s going to save him, from her?
Available at: SMASHWORDS AND AMAZON
I didn’t think; I moved following the ghost of song, a melody that played out the ache inside of my chest. I ran down the stairs and through the hall and stopped at the door across from the room filled with jars. When I stepped through the door, I could make out the contours of a piano in the corner. It was beautiful— the black reflecting the light from the moon shining through the window, the white keys punctuated with sharps and flats. I was still for a moment feeling the cold that had wrapped around my heart for so long. Devlin had taken away music.
I stepped forward and knocked the bench over with my knees. The rattle as it hit the floor startled me and I reached for a leg to pick it up. Instead the leg came off in my hand, like pulling the leg off of a spider, I thought as I gripped the carved leg in my hand. Devlin had taken away dancing. My hand seemed to rise on its own volition, the leg above my head. I closed my eyes and for a second felt a flicker of the stillness and control I’d caught the first day of knitting, but the thought of Devlin taking away the beauty of music shattered the calm.
There was a crack as I brought the bench leg down on the keyboard. Devlin had taken away color. There was an anguished screech, a sharp crack as the keyboard buckled in the middle. Devlin had taken away my mother, crash, my father, smash, and myself. I kept hitting the piano, the splintered wood flying all around me. I felt the sting as slivers found my skin, my cheek, arm, but I kept smashing, until the leg I’d used was a splintered mess. I grabbed what I could of the former beauty and shoved it with all my strength. The crunch and tinkling as it struck the wall wasn’t enough.
I stood panting needing something else to destroy, grabbing fistfuls of my hair, wanting something to hurt, but I already hurt. The pain inside of me was more than any pain I could ever inflict on anyone or anything. I crumpled to the floor feeling like I’d been beaten up. In the end Devlin hadn’t just taken apart my life, he’d taken himself too. He’d taken the brother I loved and turned him into a monster. Thinking of Devlin as a monster was more than I could bear. I buried my head in my arms and cried until I thought my body was going to shake apart.
About the Author:
Juliann C. Whicker was raised with chickens, goats, and a cow named Mrs. Mooley who everyone (neighbors included) chased down the street in a small college town. She now lives in Southeastern Ohio with her four children, husband, and all the ticks and poison ivy a soul could crave.
Connect with the Author:
Thursday, May 17, 2012
By Jenna-Lynne Duncan
Genre: A young adult paranormal romance/urban fantasy
Adriana couldn’t decide what was worse—that Hurricane Katrina was heading for New Orleans, or that she might not survive her kidnapping to see its potential effects. She had trusted Hayden, even fallen for him, and now he and his brother Luke were taking her deeper and deeper into the Bayou.
Why had two of her classmates, the mysterious Boudreaux brothers, kidnapped her?
Why had Adriana’s dreams started predicting the future?
Most importantly, would she make it out of the Bayou alive…
AMAZON ~ B&N
Book website: www.Hurricanethebook.com
Divertir Publishing: http://www.divertirpublishing.com/hurricane.html
Also available in select stores and in the UK and AU from Amazon/Borders.
** GIVEAWAY!!!! Jenna is giving away 4 sets of a signed postcard, bookmark and flur de lis tattoo **
a Rafflecopter giveaway
About the Author:
Jenna-Lynne Duncan graduated from the University of St. Thomas with degrees in Political Science, International Studies, and Middle Eastern Studies. Hurricane is her debut novel and she is planning a series. She welcomes those to contact her through her website (http://www.Jenna-Lynne.com).
Who or what inspired you to become a writer?
I wish I could pinpoint one precise moment or person that inspired me to become a writer but I can’t. I love to read and have been writing stories since grade school. I still remember the books we made in my 4th grade classroom.
How long did it take you to write Hurricane?
I wrote Hurricane while I was still in school, so I would only write during breaks and during the summer. That translated to about six months, start to finish.
While writing, how many times do you go back and rewrite a plot?
I have never rewritten entire plots because once the story gets in my head, it’s stuck there. For Hurricane, I wrote the kidnapping scene first. It was just a scene with characters but I knew I could never change it, it had to go in the story and I would make it work.
You run into a bookstore, where do you go first?
To the back, that’s usually where they keep the young adult books.
How many books in a month do you tend to read?
I read anywhere from 5-15 books a month, depending on how much writing I’m doing.
In all the books you’ve read, who is your most favorite character and why?
Scheherazade from A Thousand and One Nights. She is the ultimate storyteller.
State 5 random facts about yourself.
* I’m a PADI certified scuba diver.
* I’ve been taught Spanish, Arabic, Somali & Swahili.
* I love to travel.
* My dream guy is my husband.
* If I wasn’t writing, I would want a job as a Foreign Service Officer or in the CIA.
Your favorite genre?
Romance. I’m in love with love. With few exceptions, every book I read has romance in it.
What are you currently reading?
I am currently reading Beg for Mercy. Love recommendations on GoodReads!
Any new projects coming up?
Yes! Book two, the sequel to Hurricane will be coming out this year. I just finished another YA novel, which is yet to be titled. I also have several other YA novels that I plan to pick up after the Hurricane series, as well as other titles to be announced!
Hurricane is a paranormal romance novel for young adults. It is the first book in a brand new YA series. It follows Adriana Alexander, a high school teen whose dreams predict the future. When her dream of two mysterious brothers attending her school comes true, she makes it her goal to figure out the brothers’ secret. What she didn’t predict was that the brothers would kidnap her on the eve of Hurricane Katrina. It has everything from ghosts and voodoo. Expect plenty of forbidden love! A portion from the sale of the novel will go to the New Orleans Area Habitat for Humanity.
Where you can find author Jenna-Lynne Duncan:
~ Website ~ Book Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
By Joanne Brothwell
Deep in the backwoods of North Dakota, Sarah Ross is searching for a missing child when she is attacked by a glowing-eyed, transparent creature.
Using mysterious abilities, Sarah escapes, only to run directly into Evan Valente, a handsome, charismatic stranger who helps her back to safety. But why is Evan out in the forest so early in the morning?
Sarah learns her eyes bear the mark of the Indigo Child, an evolved human with the ability to feel the emotions of others; unfortunately, her indigo aura is highly desirable to those who wish to steal her powerful essence.
Soon, Sarah falls deeply in love with Evan and wants nothing more than to follow her heart, but she can't ignore the lingering feeling that Evan is hiding a terrible secret. The deeper she digs, the more danger she faces, forcing her to face the darkest, innermost parts of her soul.
**My Review for Stealing Breath will be posted on Monday, May 21, 2012
I awoke to rustling outside my tent. The crunching of footsteps on gravel, twigs and branches snapping. Was that a voice? I lay motionless inside my sleeping bag, heart pounding, listening.
“Help.” A disembodied whisper. Was it right outside? I strained to hear but the throbbing pulse in my head drowned everything else out. I sat up. The atmosphere within the domed tent was wet, ripe with morning breath. The tip of my nose was cold as an icicle.
“Help.” The murmur came a second time, more audible than the last. I was sure it was a child’s voice. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be the voice of the eight year-old, Jessica Crow, who had gone missing from the neighboring Indian Reservation three days ago?
I thought of the drive out to the campgrounds when my friends, Amber, Kate, and I had been listening to the radio report on the status of the missing girl from the Wakina Reservation.
Poor Amber. Once again, she’d cried at the reminder of her third cousin, Jessica, lost and alone in the forest. Everyone in the community, including Amber, had been searching for her night and day but had found nothing. I’d practically dragged Amber along camping, telling her she needed a night off from her worries. It was a hard sell, but she’d finally agreed.
I glanced at where Kate and Amber should have been laying, but their sleeping bags and pillows were missing. The last I’d seen them had been around the bonfire at two in the morning. They could have ended up crashing just about anywhere, and I wasn’t about to go peeking into random tents to find them.
Having fallen asleep in my jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I slipped on my jacket and shoes, pulled the ponytail holder off my wrist and wrapped my hair into a tight bun. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Then, unzipping the door flap of the dome tent, I stuck just my head out.
Nothing was out of place. Empty cooler bottles atop the picnic table, charred wood in the fire-pit, and the car we came in. Every campsite around us was nearly silent. The sounds of late-night make-out sessions, pounding music, and yelling were replaced by the occasional snore.
Using my empathy, I focused on trying to pick up on the emotions of any lucid person around, hoping I would hone in on Jessica’s emotions. Normally, the waking feelings of others hit me like a gale force wind, without my even trying. In fact, it had always felt like a bit of a curse that I was a walking sponge for other people’s pain. But right now, all I felt was…nothing.
The voice had seemed right outside the tent. Could I have imagined it?
I slipped out. A low, white fog blanketed the earth, enveloping the world in silence. The temperature hovered around freezing, way too cold for camping. And last night’s vodka was no longer taking the edge off. I shivered.
After checking around the cars and circling the campsite, I started down the road. Inside the forest, the eerie glow of early morning and the cool fog blanched the world a ghostly white. The moist nip in the air sharpened the scent of pine needles that littered the camp ground. I continued down the road for about ten feet until it led to the mouth of a hiking trail.
Now that I was half-frozen and shivering, the May long weekend at the campgrounds of Greater Slave Lake, North Dakota, seemed like a very stupid idea, even if it was the annual spring kick-off party.
“Help!” the diminutive voice called out again, this time, louder.
The memory of Jessica’s face flashed through my mind when I’d met her last summer; honey-brown eyes and springy hair that always stuck up around her head with static, and her sweet smile, part baby teeth intermixed with adult teeth. She was such a sweet, innocent child. If she had survived this long, she could be dangerously close to death from cold. My heart battered against my chest wall, and I fought off the urge to start running, directionless, into the bush to find her.
The voice had originated from further within the tree-line, I was sure of it. Closer now, yet still far away. I entered the trail and headed straight.
“Jessica?” I called out. No response but the echo of my own voice from the trees around me.
The trail was straight and narrow for well over a hundred feet, the trees like two solid walls of green on either side of me. Then the trail began to snake back and forth until it forked into several side-trails. I stopped to listen.
A dry crackle emerged from the trail to my right, and I immediately followed the sound. This far into the forest it was darker, the only light filtered through evergreens and fog. I looked back. The vapor had closed in behind me, obscuring the pathway like a curtain of white. Shivering transformed into shaking.
Despite running these trails in the early morning numerous times, today it looked different. I cursed under my breath and shoved my hands into my pockets.
“Hello?” I called, my voice immediately diminishing, muffled by the woods. Other than the odd bird chirp and frog croak, the forest was quiet. If the voice really had been Jessica, she would need help and most likely immediate medical attention. I forced myself forward.
The trail wound to and fro, the brush dense, the fog almost material as it clung to the spruce needles. The path grew thin and sparse, barely enough room to place one foot in front of the other, with the way the underbrush encroached on the trail. I stumbled on twigs and logs as branches clawed my cheeks and pulled my hair. I began to trip, reaching out for something to hang onto. I fell, my hand forced into a thorny bush.
Damn it! I stood up and peered at my scraped hand, blood beading out of paper-cut sized scrapes. I’d been out here for at least ten minutes, but still, I heard nothing but the crunch of my feet snapping the twigs underfoot and my breath echoing through my own head. Ready to turn around and head back to my tent, the high-pitched voice rang out once again.
Tell us a bit about Stealing Breath. Can you sum it up Twitter style?
Indigo Child. Empath. Beware
or Infatuation + Supernatural = Flash/Bang
What’s next? What are you working on now?
My current WIP is titled “The Fifth Daughter of Eve”, and it’s more science fiction than paranormal. I pitched the concept to ten agents/publishers recently at a convention, and most of them seemed very enthusiastic about the idea. I guess I’d better get it finished!
Time for some favorites! Your favorite fictional character?
It used to be Jace Wayland from City of Bones, but currently it is Christian Grey from Fifty Shades of Grey (don’t tell Hayley)!
Your favorite romantic gesture?
Neck kissing. I totally love it when the male lead kisses the heroine’s neck!
Your favorite quote?
“Not everything is about you," Clary said furiously. "Possibly," Jace said, "but you do have to admit that the majority of things are.” ― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass
Your favorite stress reliever?
Reading, of course!
Finally, who would you rather be stranded with…and why? Sam and Dean Winchester? Or Stefan and Damon Salvatore?
Okay. It was really hard to pick, so I’ll give the reason why I didn’t choose Stefan and Damon.
Stefan and Damon Salvatore
With Stefan and Damon, I’d have their total hotness to gape at, their supernatural vampire powers to protect me, and I could watch as they tore people apart with their teeth or ripped people’s hearts right out of their chests. The problem is, when they got all fiending with me, it might seem like a really bad idea for me as a human to be stranded with two (eventually hungry) vampires.
Sam and Dean Winchester
If I got stranded with Sam and Dean, I’d have two big, strapping lads to protect me and kick some serious demon ass. Then I could drink beers with them at the end of the day and watch rippling muscles flex as they cleaned their rifles, all the while listening to them tell off-colour jokes. It’d be great fun!
Joanne Brothwell is the author Stealing Breath, a paranormal romance from Crescent Moon Press, who has also published Vicarious, the prequel to Stealing Breath. Joanne lives in the country with her family where her stories are inspired by the dead things that appear at her doorstep on a daily basis. You can find her online at www.joannebrothwell.com
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Saturday, May 12, 2012
(Click on photo to purchase book from AMAZON)
Today I would love to welcome author D.L Snow to my blog. Let's begin with a little blurb about yourself....
My name is D.L. Snow and I love writing stories that have mythological elements and bringing those elements to life. After spending my younger days wandering aimlessly from one adventure to another, I now have a pretty stable, somewhat sensible life living in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains with my two spirited children, two poorly-trained dogs, two insufferable cats and one patient husband.
Who or what inspired you to become a writer?
Oh, good question. I think most writers are inspired because they are readers and my grandmother was definitely the one who inspired me to read. She was a kindred spirit and I remember she always treated me like I was a person, not just a child. As for writing, I have notebooks filled with plays, stories and really bad poetry that go back decades! However, I was inspired to write full time when I became a mother and I finished my first manuscript when my girls were just babies (during naptime). I figured, hey, if I can write a book in one hour a day, maybe I really can be a writer!
How long did it take you to write Siren’s Song?
This book is a novella and it took me about two months to write it and revise it and another few weeks to revise it.
While writing how many times do you go back and rewrite a plot?
I am definitely a rewriter. I constantly revise as I write. This book, Siren’s Song, originally had a heroine who was in her late teens. I totally changed her; who she is what she does and what her issues are. The first chapter of this book is completely different than my original manuscript.
You run into a bookstore, where do you go first?
I do a lap! Clockwise! It doesn’t matter what’s there, I look at all the tables from romance, to YA to fantasy and biographies and books on the occult. I LOVE books. All books.
How many books in a month do you tend to read?
I typically read anywhere from five to ten books a month. Of course, it depends on the length of the book. I’ve been reading George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones series and they are long, but wonderful.
In all the books you've read. Who is your most favorite character and why?
Oh, seriously? I can’t choose an all-time favorite. But I would say one of my most recent favorites is Lisbeth Salander from Stieg Larsson’s Millennium series. I love her because she is so different from any heroine I’ve ever read. She’s independent and feisty (which I always love) but she’s also a little bit crazy, super smart and a societal outcast. The best thing about her is she is not your typical heroine.
State 5 random facts about yourself.
* I think I was Cleopatra in a past life.
* When I die I want ‘Into the Mystic’ by Van Morrison to be played at my funeral.
* My children truly believe I can talk to animals...
* I love power tools (and that is not a reference to something naughty). I think all women should own power tools.
* I have a passion for old stuff, old books, old photos, old buildings, ancient ruins… it’s because there are so many untold stories hidden inside.
Your favorite Genre?
I actually don’t have a favorite genre, I just have current obsessions. For a while it was historical, then paranormal. I’ve been known to go on literary fiction kicks. Right now it’s fantasy
What are you currently reading?
I’m currently reading the Game of Thrones Series by George R.R. Martin. I’m on book three and it’s so good. So, if you’ll excuse me…
What is the best book you've read?
Gosh, I can’t think of one definitively ‘best’ book. I have lots that I love, though. I think the books that ‘informed’ me the most and have stayed with me are some I read when I was young. In no particular order, they include: Anne of Green Gables, Valley of the Horses, A Knight in Shining Armor, Pride and Prejudice, To Kill a Mockingbird…the list goes on…
Any new projects coming up?
Yes! Tons! I have a new series called The Odessa Chronicles. It’s a post-apocalyptic series set three hundred years in the future. I also have just released a three part fairy tales series (a fantastic retelling of Robin Hood where Little John is a woman in disguise) called Thief of Hearts. It’s fun and romantic and I mean, c’mon, who doesn’t love Robin Hood?
Here’s your chance to market your book. Describe it. And why readers should pick it up?
I don’t know about you, but I love time travel stories. Maybe it goes back to my love of old things and the stories hidden there. I think time travel creates so many opportunities for conflict and the setting then becomes a character. I’ve been fascinated by the possibility of time travel ever since reading books like A Knight In Shining Armor and seeing movies like Terminator and back to the future (and countless others since!).
What if it’s possible? Where would I go?
Siren’s Song is a time travel story. It’s about a woman named Joss Jones who is a famous pop star. After her mother’s untimely death, Joss wants nothing more than to live a normal life. When her grandmother dies and leaves Joss her house in Bandit Creek, Joss finds Bandit Creek anything but normal. To start with, she’s harassed by the resident ghost who drags her back in time to Bandit Creek 1899.
Has she gone crazy or is this old mining town, full of saloons, gambling, whoring and fortune seekers her new reality? It feels real enough as does the ghost who brought her here. His name is Morgan Hawes and he is very much alive.
Is Morgan the key to Joss finding her way home or is Joss stuck for the rest of her life as the Siren of Bandit Creek?
First off I want to say that I love the cover...
I really enjoyed reading Siren's Song. It's a short book perfect to read on a lazy afternoon, or while in the airport or during a commute. It's also the kind of book you begin reading, and have a hard time putting down, because it sucks you in from the very begining. Siren's Song is about a woman who time travels back into 1899. She finds herself in a town long forgotten, but just when she feels she's all alone, she meets someone who looks very familiar...
D.L. Snow did an excellent job with this book. Her writing will keep the reader on their toes with the twist and turns in the story...that will keep you wanting more. I don't want to give the story away, but I will say you wont be disappointed with this time travel romance story. The characters are very likeable and the writing will take you back into time. I recommend this book to anyone who like Time Travel Romance and Mystery. I look forward to reading more of D.L Snow and the Bandit Creek Series.
Where you can find author D.L. Snow: