Archive for the ‘Excerpt’ Category

I love a good ghost story or supernatural suspense.

And what would be the best place for it all to do down but an isolated island.

Looking for something to keep you jumping at shadows and things that go bump in the night?

You should check out Mateguas Island.

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Supernatural Fiction, Ghosts, Suspense, Horror
Date Published: April 2014
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Synopsis
On a remote island, a troubled family is trying to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. But, unbeknownst to them, the property they have inherited is shrouded in ancient magic – magic that could seek to consume and destroy them.
An arcane locked box, a strange and foreboding trail into the woods, a seductive young woman and tales of a malevolent spirit are just some of the perils Karen Andersen must face in order to find a way to save her family.
A spine-tingling tale filled with passion, lies and betrayal, this début novel will have you sleeping with the lights on!

Check out this glimpse inside!

A flash of lightning lit up the sky illuminating the L-shaped room where Sophie and Terri slept. The light was so bright, it startled Sophie awake and she sat up rubbing her eyes. When she could finally focus she was surprised to see their room was suffused by a golden glow that lingered long after the lightning faded. As she gazed about the room in wonder, she saw her twin standing by the window that looked out to the backyard.

“Ter, what ya doin’?” she asked.

Terri turned her head, a bright smile on her face. “Soph, come see. It’s beautiful. It’s like a fairy world.”

Sophie got out of bed and joined her sister at the window. Her eyes widened in amazement when she saw what was happening outside. Scores of fireflies were dancing around one of the bushes in the yard, their light sparkling and shimmering in the wind and rain.

“It looks like Christmas,” said Sophie, her voice filled with awe.

“Yeah, Soph. See how they dance. And listen – I think they’re singing.”

Sophie pressed her face to the glass, straining to hear. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Close your eyes and really listen.”

Sophie did as her sister instructed. In a moment she nodded her head eagerly. “I hear it. I hear it. It’s like magic. It’s so pretty.”

The girls grinned in delight as they listened to the sweet melodic song of the fireflies.

“What language is it?” Sophie whispered. “I don’t understand it but I love it.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard anything like it before.”

They stood quietly listening and watching the spectacle taking place before them oblivious to the storm that was raging. But in an instant, their joy was cut short by a loud crack of thunder that shook the house. The room plunged into darkness as the golden glow was extinguished and the fireflies disappeared.

“Look,” whispered Sophie pointing her finger to the yard.

Terri gripped her sister’s hand tightly as she watched a shadowy figure streak across the lawn toward the woods. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, temporarily blinding the girls and when their sight returned, the figure was gone.

They stood transfixed, waiting to see what would happen next. Then a soft mournful sob, barely audible at first, pierced the silence. Stunned, Terri and Sophie hugged each other in fear as the sobs became more desperate. The wind began to howl and mournful cries echoed in the night. Tears streamed down Sophie’s cheeks as she recognized the voice that was now calling out her name.

“It sounds like Mommy, Ter! Is it Mommy? Please, is it Mommy?”

Terri leaned forward, her body rigid as she strained to recognize the voice calling to them. The sound was so familiar but not real, not like her mother. Yet, it was her. “Soph, it is Mommy. She sounds in so much pain. I think she’s hurt. We have to help her.”

Terri gripped her sister’s hand tightly. The cries were becoming more plaintive now as if the caller was losing hope.

“We have to wake Daddy. He’ll know what to do.”

Terri shook her head. “We can’t get Daddy, Soph. What if it’s his fault? What if he hurt her again? You heard them fighting. No, it’s up to us, Soph. We have to help her.”

The girls stood staring at each other for what seemed a lifetime, then Sophie nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go. We have to find Mommy. We have to save her.”

Terri took her sister’s hand and squeezed it. Together they tiptoed out of their room and down the stairs. They stopped briefly at the hall closet and put their slickers on over their nightclothes to try to stay dry and grabbed a flashlight. Then hand in hand, they opened the door and, without hesitation, went silently out into the storm.

 

Buy Links

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About Author Linda Watkins
Born in Norwich, Connecticut, Linda Watkins moved to Michigan when she was four years old. After graduation from college (Carnegie-Mellon University ’70), Ms. Watkins relocated to the San Francisco Bay Area where she lived most of her adult life. A Senior Clinical Financial Analyst at Stanford University School of Medicine, Linda was always writing. At work, she created ‘long forms’ and business plans; at home, she wrote whimsical stories, poems and songs for the delight of her friends and family. In 2006, retired, she moved to Chebeague Island, Maine where she wrote her first novel, MATEGUAS ISLAND.Today, she resides in Western Michigan with her three rescue dogs (Splatter, Spudley and Jasper) and has just completed the sequel to MATEGUAS which she anticipates will be published by Christmas 2014.
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NoSuchThingAsPerfectBlitzBanner2

Sarah Daltry has just released her newest novel, No Such Thing As perfect.

This can be read as a stand alone.

Just look at the beautiful cover.

Not so much a romance as accepting who you are.

Keep reading to learn more and get your copy.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway.

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No Such Thing as Perfect
 by Sarah Daltry
Publication date: December 11th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult
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Synopsis:

College was supposed to be perfect. She was supposed to be perfect.

For Lily Drummond, life is about following the rules. To be specific, her mother’s rules. College fit into the plan – maintain perfect grades, date the perfect guy, and live the perfect life. On her own, though, Lily realizes that she doesn’t actually have a plan. Without being told what to think and do, she keeps making mistakes.

Away from home, the perfect facade is beginning to shatter. When Lily herself starts to break, it’s the support of an unlikely friend that teaches her how much of a lie perfect really is – and how to be whole on her own terms.

No Such Thing as Perfect was inspired by Sarah’s Flowering series, but it stands completely alone as its own title. The same characters appear and some situations are similar, but this was written with a different goal in mind. There is NO on-camera sex in this novel and it is not a “romance” novel by most standards, but a story of growing up and being okay with who you are.
For more info, visit Sarah’s website
Purchase:
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Author Sarah Daltry
nosuchthing SarahAuthorPhoto
Sarah Daltry is a varied author, known best for the contemporary New Adult series, ‘Flowering’, a six-title series that explores the complexities of relationships, including how we survive the damage from our pasts with the support of those who love us. Although the books are no longer in print, they are being rewritten and redeveloped for future publication. Please visit Sarah’s website for more details.

As a former English teacher and YA library coordinator, Sarah has always loved Young Adult literature and ‘Dust’, an epic fantasy novel where romance blends with the blood and grit of war, is her second official foray into YA, following the gamer geek romantic comedy, ‘Backward Compatible’. Most of Sarah’s work is about teens and college students, as it’s what she knows well.

Sarah’s passion in life is writing – weaving tales of magic and beauty. The modern and vast social networking world is an alternative universe that she makes infrequent trips to, but when she does, readers will find her attentive, friendly and happy to discuss the magic of stories and reading. Please stop by and say hello anywhere Sarah is online! You can find these places at http://sarahdaltry.com

Sarah has moved back and forth between independent and traditional publishing. Her first novel, ‘Bitter Fruits’, is with Escape, an imprint of Harlequin Australia, and she signed with Little Bird Publishing in the spring of 2014.

Sarah has also written ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,’ a reimagining of one of her favorite poems in a contemporary setting.

She is an obsessive Anglophile who spends more time watching BBC TV than any human being should, as well as a hardcore gamer and sarcastic nerd.

Author links:

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$15 Amazon Gift Card

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For all of my giveaways click on the  Southern Christmas Charm below.

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Today I’m excited to share the teaser tour for The Bleaklisted Books by David M. Brown and Donna Brown. This is humorous non-fiction for every cat and animal lover. The Bleaklisted Books releases December 1st!

 

My mini-irons,

I urge you to embrace the goose-spell of Animal Farm and you will find sanctuary when our difficult war is over. I will add, of course, that given that conquering the world means a long, long, long, long, long war, I will permit you to read another book every now and again.

Just remember which books are bleak-listed; e.g. Barry Potterer, 100 Years of Silly Tudor, Prude and Perjury, The Hungary Olympic Games, The Chronicles of Nerdia and Of Mike and Ben.

In the meantime, here is a list of books I have vetted and will reconsider for approval if the appro… apprap… proper changes are made. Read this manyule carefully mini-irons.

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Your Cat-tain Charlie Brown

US Amazon | General link (diverts to relevant Amazon) | Goodreads
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Excerpt


What happens?

Some spy is told to carry out an assignment in East Germany to uncover a double agent but he falls for someone prior to this and love ultimately messes the operation up.

Reason for bleaklisting?

Proper spies don’t fall in love. Wimps they are!What should have happened?Eric is sent on an exclusive mission into East Germany to assassinate a double agent. Before setting off he is approached by an air stewardess named Fiz who fancies him but he turns her down. She does warn him that it’s cold in East Germany and gives him some cough syrup.Suspicious of the bottle labelled poison with a skull on it, Eric tosses the syrup and completes his mission. When he returns home to England he has a runny nose and is coughing a lot. Fiz realises he has seen through the poison expertly disguised as cough syrup and she runs away. She is shot and killed by a traffic warden who believes her car is parked on double yellow lines. Eric ends the novel by nipping to the pharmacy for some genuine cough syrup.Special instructionMake available at MI5, MI6, CIA, B&Q and M&S and rename The Spy Who Came Home with a Cold.

 
Mr B compares the stories

Dear me, Charlie, I thought you’d like John le Carré’s 1963 Cold War Novel. The Spy Who Came in From the Cold does deal with Communist East Germany where Alec Leamas is sent, under the pretence that he is defecting, and with the intention of locating Mundt, suspected of being a double agent. Alec has a romance with Liz which ultimately throws a spanner in the works. There isn’t anything about cough syrup thankfully and as with Charlie’s other efforts, this one is likely to disappear into the ether. My apologies to Mr le Carré for this despicable alternative to his story.
 
About the Authors: 

Donna: Donna is a longtime book lover and sometime book reviewer and has devoured books from

an early age. She writes short (or long) stories as and when inspiration hits and is married to fantasy author David M. Brown (Fezariu’s Epiphany, A World Apart). She was also co-contributor to David’s book, Man vs Cat, a humorous look at life with six rambunctious rescue cats.

Donna has lived in many different areas of the UK over the last 30-something years but has remained in Yorkshire for the past decade. She ardently disputes the misnomer that ‘It’s grim up north’. You can find Donna on Google+, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and Goodreads, or visit her and her husband’s shared blog: B-Lines and Felines.

Website | Twitter | Pinterest | Instagram 

David: David Brown could be considered a fantasy fanatic, especially since he has spent the last 10 years developing a 47,000-year history for his fictional world of Elenchera. When converting his obsession into literary form, David commits himself to a rigorous writing and editing process before his work can meet his approval. Combined with the critical eye of his wife and a BA Hons in History and English, David’s dedication leads him to his goal of inspiring readers through heartfelt stories and characters.

Although David is inspired primarily by fantasy fiction, he also finds his muse in the form of anime, world cinema, history, and biographies. His own books, Fezariu’s Epiphany and A World Apart, combine aspects from worlds both old and new into compelling tales of a world not soon forgotten., David himself certainly does not lack a spirit of adventure; in fact, he left his job in 2007 in order to spend a month travelling. Second only to meeting and marrying his wife, David counts this as one of the most amazing experiences of his life.

Feline Central
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$20 Gift Certificate for Amazon or B&N & paperback or audiobook of Man vs. Cat (INT)Ends December 16th.
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a Rafflecopter giveaway

This event was organized by CBB Book Promotions.

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To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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Under the Moonlight Banner

 Ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved mermaids. There’s something about them, an aura, that is so intriguing. Who wouldn’t want to be able to swim the depths of the ocean, a place more foreign to us than outer space?

Splash into Under The Moonlight. Discover Ashley Nemer’s mythological world of merfolk.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

Under the Moonlight

Virtual Book Tour Dates: 11/24/14-12/1/14

Genres: Romance, Mythology, Fantasy (Mermaid Story)

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Blurb:

Zara’s fate had been decided thousands of years before her birth. She is now fighting against time and family to reclaim the decisions that will ultimately shape her destiny.

Sentenced to live an existence in the Underworld, mated to a man she despises, Zara must find a way to overcome the Gods and their curses, with love as her only guide.

Can James, a handsome and rugged sailor, help Zara break the bonds of magical spells or will she end up mated to Xander, the Son of Satan?

Take a dive Under the Moonlight to see where love can take you.

 

Excerpt:

Zara couldn’t help staring at the vessels that passed by her cove. Each one contained a different story and a different set of sailors. Her father had warned her that interacting with the humans, or even simply studying them, was an addiction, one she would soon have to learn to overcome. Each mermaid was presented with the same challenge on their twenty-second birthday. They each had to make a choice to stay in the waters and live with their families, or to give up everything they had always known, for love, and join the human race.

For thousands of years, the merpeople had joined the two-legged humans’ culture, going undetected. And it wasn’t as if mermaids could never go into the waters again afterwards. Each full moon they had the opportunity to dive into the

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salty water of the ocean and join their fellow merpeople under the moonlight. However, each full moon that passed made that transition harder and harder for the mermaid to accomplish. The longer they were out of the ocean and away from their mer-form, the harder it was on their body to shift back to their original form.

She knew that her decision was about to be due. She hadn’t told anyone what she was thinking about choosing; she didn’t want the added pressure from King Triton, her father, and his brother, Poseidon, her uncle. Humans always got the lineage wrong in their stories. So many of the gods were intertwined that they all ended up being related to one another in some way or another, but the rules for joining the human race were strict. A merperson could only marry once, and it could only be for love. Any other reason wouldn’t be approved. You had to have King Triton’s blessing in order to make the final conversion into the human world.

“What are you looking at, Zara?”

Her head whipped around to the side to look at Sadie, her mother, who was swimming in the lagoon. “That ship out there. It comes by here every day around this time, like they are just waiting.”

“They are predators. Always remember that.” Her mother’s tone was adamant.

“You only say that because you don’t know them yet. Everyone is a shark to you,” Zara retorted.

“Men are men, Zara. They will kill to get what they want.”

“Is that what you tell Daddy?” Zara valued her mother and knew that she would always be there to support her, but she worried that her mother was constantly trying to sway her against all human men and make her change her mind about the choices she had spinning around in her head.

“Your father is different. Gods know how to treat their women,” she said flatly.

“No, they don’t, Mother. You are just blinded by love.” She watched the curve of her mother’s lips come up and form a smile. It was the truth. Her mother and father were very much in love, even after all these years and hundreds of children. Humans talked about having large families with nine or ten siblings. They should try having two hundred and fifty nine sisters and twice as many brothers.

“And what a blindness to have. You should be so lucky, young lady.”

“One day, Mother, maybe I will be.”

 

Buy Link:

Amazon
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About the Author

 

Me

 

Ashley is married and lives in Houston with her husband Tony. They have two dogs named Toto and Doogie. They have been together for over 10 years and he brings her more joy than she could ever imagine as a child. She loves to read and has been hooked on the romance genre ever since her life long best friend gave her “Ashes to Ashes’ by Tami Hoag to read when they were younger.

Ashley finds her strength through her family, especially her parents. They always support her in life, they push her to strive for greatness. There once was a motto that Ashley heard in her youth through her Taekwondo life ‘Reach for the Stars’ and that is what Ashley has always done. It was through her upbringing that the values Ashley has and display’s came from. With her Parents always cheering her on in life she was able to grow up having faith in herself and her ability to conquer the world.

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Connect With The Author:

The Art of Safkhet 

Ashley’s World

Niki Becker

Ashley Nemer – Author Facebook

Facebook Friend Page

Memories in a Box Blog

Twitter

Ashley Nemer Amazon Author Page

Niki Becker Amazon Author Page

Ashley Nemer Goodreads

Niki Becker Goodreads

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Giveaway:

Enter to win a $15 Amazon GC on the Under The Moonlight: A Mermaid’s Tale by Ashley Nemer Book Tour & Giveaway!

Open Internationally.

This giveaway will run11/24/14-12/1/14.

Click on the link below to enter.

Enter through Rafflecopter.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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M9B-Friday-Reveal

Welcome to this week’s M9B Friday Reveal!

This week, we are revealing the first chapter for

The Perilous Journey of the Not-So-Innocuous Girl by Leigh Statham

presented by Month9Books!

Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

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The Perilous Journey

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Lady Marguerite lives a life most 17th century French girls can only dream of: Money, designer dresses, suitors and a secure future. Except, she suspects her heart may be falling for her best friend Claude, a common smithie in the family’s steam forge. When Claude leaves for New France in search of a better life, Marguerite decides to follow him and test her suspicions of love. Only the trip proves to be more harrowing than she anticipated. Love, adventure and restitution await her, if she can survive the voyage.

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Title: THE PERILOUS JOURNEY OF
THE NOT-SO-INNOCUOUS GIRL
Publication date: 2015
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.
Author: Leigh Statham

Chapter-by-Chapter-header---Excerpt

The Perilous Journey of the Not-So-Innocuous Girl

Leigh Statham

Chapter One

Marguerite held the brass cricket gingerly in her hands. She kept it tucked under the table while she turned it over, her fingers blindly memorizing every feature. She knew it was childish for a sixteen-year-old to have a favorite toy, but she couldn’t help it. The design fascinated her. Occasionally she would trip the mechanism and the cricket literally sprang to life, launching itself against the underside of the table with a loud knock.
“What was that?” Madame Pomphart cried.
Marguerite caught the little metal bug with one hand and tucked it into the folds of her skirts. “Nothing,” she lied.
“I heard a noise.” The sour-faced governess slapped the desk with her pointer and stepped closer. “What are you hiding?”
Marguerite didn’t flinch. “You must be hearing things again. You are getting rather old.”
Madame Pomphart swung her pointer, making sound contact with Marguerite’s shoulder.
“Ah!” Marguerite grabbed her shoulder and jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over. She quite forgot about the little toy cricket which launched right at the governess’s face.
“What? Oh!” Madame Pomphart batted the air and stumbled backward, dropping her stick as the cricket ricocheted off her nose and landed at Marguerite’s feet. “How dare you bring vermin into my classroom? Your father will hear about this. Lord Vadnay will not be pleased!”
Marguerite scooped up her prize and ran for the door, grateful for the chance to escape.
“Get back here or you’ll receive double lashings!”
It was too late. Marguerite ran much faster than her teacher and was already halfway down the wide corridor. Lined with portraits of long-dead relatives and her father’s collection of modern weaponry, each display tempted her with thoughts of challenging the governess to a duel. She could easily scoop up one of the automated cat-o-nine-tails and turn back to the classroom. She rather fancied the idea, actually. But it wasn’t the right time or the right way to handle her heavy-handed caretaker, and honestly, she wasn’t quite brave enough to do more than talk back—not yet.
Her fear began to lift as she lightly descended the grand curving stairway to the ballroom, sprinting over the marble tiles and through the large doors to the gardens. The French summer sun blinded her. Marguerite blinked as she continued to run around the fountain filled with automated koi. A servant perched on the edge of the large pool, brass fish in hand. Its tail clicked furiously back and forth as he tried to oil it. The late-summer roses bloomed bright with color all around her. Butterflies seemed to flit merrily on every blossom, cheering her on. Human and automaton servants worked side by side grooming the large hedges … They jumped out of her way and bowed. None of them seemed surprised to see the young lady of the house running out of doors and they all knew where she was headed.
She tried to slip away to the cool shelter of the small glen beyond the lavender fields every chance she could, but since her father came up with the idea that she needed to be a “real lady,” it had become more difficult to sneak away.
At this point, she could have stopped. Pomphart wouldn’t follow her now, but it felt so good to move quickly after being at a table all morning. Her heart beat like an auto-hammer in her chest by the time she reached the work fields. More automatons and human servants stopped and bowed to the master’s daughter. Marguerite paid them no attention.
Finally reaching the small grove of trees, she flopped merrily on the soft grass and took a deep breath, then giggled to herself. She was safe, for now. The wind picked up and tousled the leaves overhead, sending bits of sunlight swimming wildly around her. The grass outside the glen rustled under the heavy thud of work boots: Claude.
“Hullo!” His voice sounded merry as he peered through the low branches that poked and tickled at the earth, surprised to see her there so early. “How’d you manage to beat me?” His wavy, light brown hair was just shaggy enough to soften his strong jaw and angular nose. His cheek was smeared with gear oil, right up to the corner of his smiling blue eyes. He was too tall for his work trousers and his chest had grown too broad for his cotton shirt. The buttons tugged a bit, but he wasn’t the type to care about his clothes. He pulled his welding goggles off of his head and wiped the sweat on his brow with the arm of his shirt.
“I ran.” She smiled wickedly.
Claude flopped down in the grass beside her. “That’s not very ladylike, and Pomphart doesn’t usually let you out till half past.”
“I had to run after this marvelous toy you made for me attacked her.” She held up the cricket like a prize gem freshly plucked from the earth.
“Marguerite!” he cried. “I asked you to keep it safe, not use it to get yourself tossed out of ladyhood!”
“It was an accident. I swear. The lessons are just so boring. I needed something to do, so I had it under the table. She’s such a brute. You should have seen how she hit me with her blasted pointer.”
“She struck you again?” his face turned dark.
“Yes, but it’s nothing, just a welt on the shoulder.” The last thing she wanted was to be the damsel in distress.
“Still.” Claude’s brow furrowed. “It’s not right. Ladies don’t strike other ladies. Please keep good care of that little bug. It took me a long time to build and I didn’t record the plans. I may need to borrow it back someday.”
“All right.” Disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm for her naughtiness, she carried on. “But you should have seen her face! If only I could have a portrait made of that. I’d hang it over my bed and have a miniature made to keep by my heart.”
A nasally voice attached to a pointy-faced, pale girl in bright pink skirts burst through the cool glen. “Whose miniature are you keeping by your heart? You haven’t even had your ball yet.”
“Hello, Vivienne.” Marguerite sighed without enthusiasm.
“Marguerite has just sealed her doom,” Claude chimed in. “She threw the cricket I made her at Pomphart’s face today, so there may not be a ball.”
“That’s rubbish! I did no such thing. It just got away from me and bounced right off her nose.” Marguerite laughed again while recalling the image, but Claude’s words made her a bit nervous.
“Oh dear,” cried Vivienne. “What are you going to do?”
Of course Vivienne would make a big deal out of it, Marguerite didn’t expect anything less from her childish neighbor.
“I’m not sure. That’s why I came straight here.” She turned pointedly to Claude. “I thought you’d want to celebrate my freedom and take the rest of the day off.”
Claude was quick to reply, “I’m afraid I can’t. Lots to be finished at the forge and I am on stall-mucking duty with the bots.”
“What do you possibly have to finish at the forge that’s so important?”
Claude raised his eyebrows at her. “A certain girl’s father has requested automatic serving dishes made of twenty-four-karat gold for her introduction to society.”
“Oh my!” Vivienne drew a dramatic breath. “How elegant. I so wish I were old enough to come.”
“Don’t worry,” Marguerite patted the girl’s knee, “I’m sure you can borrow them for your own ball.”
“Marguerite … ” Claude hissed at her.
It wasn’t a very kind thing to say, but Marguerite had never been very fond of Vivienne. She mostly endured her company because she was the only girl within a hundred miles that was close to the same age and station as Marguerite. That, and Claude had insisted she be kind to her.
“You’re right, Claude.” Marguerite smiled in repentance. “I’m sure your father will have loads of wonderful things for the guests to marvel at when your time comes, Vivienne. Still, it would be nice to have both of you there. I suppose I will be forced to talk to strangers.”
“I can’t believe you’re not excited!” Vivienne chattered. “New dresses! Handsome suitors!”
“I am excited,” Marguerite cut her off, “to have it over and done with! Dressing up might be fun, but dressing up to catch a man is not my idea of a good time.”
“Don’t be vulgar.” Vivienne blushed. “It’s not like that at all.”
Claude cut in, “I’d love to stay and discuss this matter with you girls, but I do have a few chafing dishes waiting for their motors in the shop.”
Marguerite tensed at the thought of not only being left alone with Vivienne, but also being without Claude’s protection should Pomphart come looking for her. “Do you think I could come help you at the forge today?”
“Not if you want me to get anything done.” Claude smiled merrily.
“Stop it! You know I’m a whiz with gear-work.”
“When you are actually interested in the work, yes, but I’m afraid that auto-spoons and brass tureens would bore you to death.”
Marguerite tried to make her eyes look large and beseeching, but she knew it was no use.
“No. But you can walk me there. I forgot my lunch anyway,” Claude said as he reached to help Marguerite up.
“I didn’t exactly have time to grab a snack as I fled the dungeons,” Marguerite quipped.
“Oh! I know!” Vivienne was bursting. “Let’s have lunch in town today. You’re not going back to your lessons are you? And Claude is busy with work. It will be such fun girl time!”
Marguerite sighed, but Vivienne was right. There was no way for her to return to the estate house without being trapped by Pomphart, and she had nothing to do if Claude insisted on finishing his chores. Still, she was uneasy about the idea of being on her own with Pomphart’s wrath hovering around an unknown corner waiting to pounce. The woman was ruthless when no one of importance was watching. She had a way of getting Marguerite off on her own and exacting whatever form of punishment she felt was suitable for the crime. Marguerite tried to complain to her father, but he wouldn’t listen, he thought Marguerite just didn’t want lessons anymore.
Claude knew all of this and sensed her fears in her quiet gaze.
“Come with me, both of you. I have someone I want you to meet.” Claude smiled.
Marguerite jumped up at his tug, tossed her wavy brown hair, and set her skirts aright, glad someone was helping her make up her mind. “Very well.”
“Hooray! Oh, I know just the place,” Vivienne said. “There is a new little patisserie I saw the other day I’ve been aching to try.” She skipped up the hill ahead of the other two, babbling on about buns and cakes and half sandwiches.
Claude reached for Marguerite’s arm and squeezed a bit. He used this gesture when he was about to chastise her, but she didn’t think she’d been that rude to Vivienne. The girl got on her nerves with every word, but her intentions were good and Marguerite wasn’t cruel by nature, just impatient.
“What?” she hissed.
“I have some news, but I wanted to tell you first.”
“Oh?” Relieved not to be in trouble, but also perplexed, Marguerite wished more now than ever that Vivienne would just skip into oblivion with her bouncy blonde curls and scattered thoughts.
“Yes. You know how we spoke a few weeks ago about my plans?”
“Did you find a position in Paris?” Marguerite could scarcely contain herself. Her friend was so talented, and she knew better than anyone that he was wasted working as a bondservant on her father’s estate. If he could secure an apprenticeship in Paris he could come back to La Rochelle as a master tradesman. Plus she could visit him there. Still, apprenticeships were hard to come by.
“No, I think it’s better than that.”
“What could be better than Paris?” In her mind, crowds of well-dressed ladies paraded down glittering avenues while the latest autocarts passed by in a blur of technology and innovation. Paris was the hub of all things Marguerite admired.
“I’ve signed into His Majesty’s service. As of next week, I’ll be an official member of the Royal Corp of Engineers.”
“You what?” She was stunned. It took her a moment to sort out her emotions. How could he have made this type of decision without consulting her? They had shared everything since they discovered each other as bored children on the estate a decade ago.
“I knew you’d be angry with me for not telling you beforehand, but an opportunity just presented itself and I knew it was right—I had to take it.”
“No, I’m not angry at all. Just shocked. You know how my father feels about the military.”
“But you see, that’s just it. I won’t have to worry about your father anymore, I won’t owe him anything. My first assignment is to New France.”
“Are you two coming or not? I’m starved!” Vivienne had doubled back when she realized she was talking to herself.
Marguerite wasn’t sure she could eat or talk at that moment. She wasn’t sure she could even take another step.

 

 

Chapter-by-Chapter-header---About-the-Author

L. Statham

Leigh Statham was raised in the wilds of rural Idaho, but found her heart in New York City. She worked as a waitress, maid, artist, math teacher, nurse, web designer, art director, thirty-foot inflatable pig and mule wrangler before she settled down in the semi-quiet role of wife, mother and writer. She resides in North Carolina with her husband, four children, five chickens and two suspected serial killer cats. If the air is cool and the sun is just coming up over the horizon, you can find her running the streets of her small town, plotting her next novel with the sort of intensity that will one day get her hit by a car.

Connect with the Author: Website |Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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Chapter-by-Chapter-header---Giveaway

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Graveyard Shift Banner 851 x 315

You know you want it!

Just look at that cover.

And it’s got reapers.

So come on in and check out Graveyard Shift.

Grab your free copy.

And enter the giveaway for a chance to win some awesome prizes!

Graveyard Shift

Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc.

Book One

Angela Roquet

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Genre: Urban Fantasy

Original print publication October 2009

ISBN-10: 1480004189 / ISBN-13: 978-1480004184 / ASIN: B009M0ARH0

Number of pages: 258 / Word Count: 70,000

Cover Artist: Angela Roquet

 

Book Description:

 

The Inferno has Evolved…

Lana Harvey is a reaper, and a lousy one at that. She resides in Limbo City, the modern capital of the collective afterlives, where she likes to stick it to the man (the legendary Grim Reaper himself) by harvesting the bare minimum of souls required of her. She’d much rather be hanging out with Gabriel, her favorite archangel, at Purgatory Lounge. But when a shocking promotion falls in her lap, Lana learns something that could unravel the very fabric of Eternity. If the job isn’t completed, there could be some real hell to pay.

 

Free ebook copy available at Amazon BN   Smashwords

Excerpt:

“Go help Coreen and Kevin! I’ll take care of them.” Josie fired another arrow through the nearest demon’s eye. Pus exploded from the gaping wound. The beast wailed and clawed at its face before Josie darted it through the skull. A cloud of murky smoke rose in its place. The second demon was quicker. It rolled away from her and scrambled behind a semi. Josie pounced onto the hood of a car and hurried after it.

The sound of traffic crunched in my ears. Angry horns blared as cars and trucks slowed around the charred bridge and missing chunk of railing. Humans may fear death, but they never pass up an opportunity to gawk at it.

I leaned over the wrecked ledge and caught a glimpse of the bus before it disappeared entirely. Kevin and Coreen’s robes laid abandoned on the crumbling bridge. I yanked mine over my head and tossed it next to theirs. It was no good to me in the water. I grasped my scythe in both hands and jumped.

The momentum of the fall pulled me under the icy water, and I found the bus, still bubbling as the remaining air inside tried to escape. I latched onto an open window and pulled myself around to the door.

Inside, Coreen and Kevin cut away the passengers’ seatbelts. Coreen jerked around and then relaxed when she saw it was only me. Kevin’s mop of curls floated around his face, rendered weightless in the dark water. He struggled with a dagger, trying to free the last man. I slipped the blade of my scythe under the buckle and tore it loose from the seat. He gave me a relieved smile, but only a brief one. Air bubbles leaked from the corners of his mouth and he pinched his lips shut again. He grabbed two of the men under their arms and heaved them out the door.

There were only five. One of the band mates must have been driving. Coreen grabbed the next two and left the drummer for me. He was unconscious. The others had a chance of making it out alive, and I hoped they did. We had enough problems. We didn’t need four additional souls to tend to.

Mickey, our catch, was slowly drowning in my arms. This wasn’t how he was meant to go, but I wasn’t about to go to the trouble of saving him just so he could die an hour later. That’s as far as destiny would take him. I was just saving him the extra trauma.

His soul glowed as I pulled it free from his body, and his eyes flashed open in surprise. I pulled him close and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him from turning back and seeing his body. The shock is too much for some souls. I pulled him out the door and swam towards the ascending bubbles, fleeing for the surface.

 

About the Author Angela Roquet:

Graveyard Shift AngelaRoquet1B

 

Urban fantasy author Angela Roquet is a great big weirdo. She collects Danger Girl comic books, owls, skulls, and random craft supplies. Her obsessions include the Wizard of Oz, over-sweetened coffee, and all things Joss Whedon. She’s a fan of renewable energy, marriage equality, and religious tolerance. As long as whatever you’re doing isn’t hurting anyone, she’s a fan of you, too.

Angela lives in Sedalia, Missouri with her husband and son. When she’s not swearing at the keyboard, she enjoys painting, goofing off with her family and friends, and reading books that raise eyebrows. GRAVEYARD SHIFT, the first novel in Angela’s Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. series, is now available for FREE on Kindle, Nook, & Smashwords.

You can find Angela online at:

Website ~ Newsletter ~ Blog ~ Twitter

Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ Youtube ~ Google +

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Second Coming banner by Scott Pinsker

When I first spotted this book, I had no idea what it was about so I went to check it out.

The description is intriguing but it’s the reviews that really made me curious.

What if Christ came back and so did Satan?

How would you tell which was which?

I’m going to have to read this to find out.

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Title: The Second Coming

Author: Scott Pinsker

 

Release date: June 5th, 2014

Tour: Irresistible Reads Book Tours

 

Book Description:

Two men claim to be the Second Coming of Christ. Each claims the other is Satan in disguise. But only one is telling the truth.

 In The Second Coming: A Love Story, the devilish new novel by Scott Pinsker, the culture war between Red America and Blue America turns shockingly real when two self-declared saviors appear on earth. The first “messiah” attracts legions of liberal and secular-progressive followers with his message of New Age brotherhood, quickly becoming the darling of the left. The second “messiah” preaches fire-and-brimstone traditional Christianity, gaining a grassroots army of conservative worshippers ready to battle to the death. It’s finally happened: Red America and Blue America are headed for Armageddon!

Amazon

 

Book Excerpt

 

The only two things Nate Konrad feared were indifference and anonymity.  As America’s preeminent radio personality and/or loudmouth, he figured out long ago that he who cultivates crowds stays on the air; he who blends into crowds fades away.

Nate Konrad refused to fade away.

Many moons ago, as a longhaired radical with a penchant for rabble-rousing, he dropped out of Yale to pursue his dream of becoming a wacky, irreverent disk jockey.  Many moons later, despite leaving every radio station on rancorous terms (or with litigation pending), he always landed in a slightly larger market, until Konrad inconceivably emerged atop the radio food chain.

He began his career by attracting an audience the easiest way possible: saying outlandish, offensive things, but veiling these diatribes with just enough witticisms to deflect criticism.  Konrad referred to supermarkets in the inner cities as “Negrocery stores,” and demanded that pro-life listeners add nine months to their date of birth when people ask of them their age.  He recommended solving the homeless problem by providing the homeless with complimentary camels—so we could then refer to them not as “homeless” but as “nomads” (and if that didn’t work, he explained, the homeless/nomads could eat their camels and at least get a good meal out of it).  When a famous Mexican-American actress was photographed breastfeeding her baby, Konrad sparked a mini-boycott (and lost the El Pollo Loco sponsorship) when he called her a “Lactino.”  Of course, when anyone took offense, the longhaired radio rebel would silence the offended by claiming they “lacked a sense of humor” or “just didn’t get it.”  But as his articulation increased, along with his knowledge of all things political, he found himself moving steadily to the ideological right.  Basically, he developed the ability to shock the public with ideas rather than insults, and became one of America’s most trusted—and polarizing—authorities on current events.

His world view was simple: The government that governs best governs least; empower the military and police to the utmost possible; feminists are fat and ugly; and finally, if you don’t love the United States of America with every inch of your red-blooded heart, then get out of this country, you ungrateful socialist scumbag.

Tanning salons and Marlboro Reds rendered his boyish features a thing of the past, replacing the rosy hue of innocence with a cantankerous scowl and scaly contours.  He still donned a shiny leather jacket and jet-black sunglasses, as if trying to overcompensate for his advancing age and eight-figure income.  All in all, Konrad was desperate to demonstrate that he’s still the same unpredictable madcap rebel who’s always ready to humiliate the establishment, despite becoming a corporate icon and political kingmaker in his own right.

“Greetings across the four corners of Americana,” growled Konrad through his gold-plated microphone.  “I am the living legend of talk radio, the Deacon of Democracy, the Golden Angel of the airwaves.  My name is Nathan F. Konrad and I can run faster, jump higher, dive deeper, stay under longer and come up drier than any man, woman, or animal on God’s green earth.  And that’s all before my morning cup of Colombian coffee!  But let’s dispense with the catch-phrases for a moment.  Normally, I don’t allow guests to sit in the booth with me.  You see, I view my radio booth as sacred territory, the birthplace of freedom for modern America, and I’m careful about corrupting its purity with outsiders.  But for the first hour of today’s program, I’m making an exception.  Just like the rest of you, I’ve been following the nonstop media coverage of the two men, Joe and Israel, who both claim to be the Second Coming of Jesus Christ—and perhaps more interestingly, also claim that the other is Lucifer.

“Now, as you know, when these, uh, men first began appearing on the television dial, I predicted that it was a publicity stunt of one kind or another and the two, uh, entities were working in unison.  While I still believe such a possibility exists, I’m starting to hedge my bets.  Despite the widespread media coverage, nobody anywhere has been able to uncover any photos or documents that ‘outs’ them as being human.  Isn’t that strange?  One would have expected that a graduation picture, a birth certificate or even a mug-shot photo might be unearthed.  Now, this dearth of evidence doesn’t necessarily mean that Joe and Israel are actually God and Satan; the absence of evidence is not necessarily evidence of an absence.  But it does add circumstantial credibility to their claims.

“But even if they’re both liars, they’ve raised an interesting question: How do we, as mere humans, differentiate good from evil?  We’re deceived by leftwing evildoers with such regularity—and most of the time, the lefties aren’t even that smart!  Yes, you and I can smell ‘em out, but over 50 percent of our countrymen cannot.  So think about it: If we can’t even fend ourselves from the deceivers of earthly origins, what prayer do we have against deceivers of unearthly origins?

“And I’m not trying to be an alarmist here, but let’s face facts: Every election day, millions of Americans vote for anti-Christian secular progressives.  And I’m guesstimating that the S.P.s’ median age is, oh, maybe 50 to 70.  You compare this to Satan himself, who’s spent thousands of centuries perfecting his message, and you see that we’re facing a serious experience-gap.  Realistically, what hope do we have?

“To answer these questions, as well as many more, let us welcome Miss Margaret Magdala—the apostle of the, uh, entity she believes is the one true Second Coming, Joe.  Margaret, I’m glad you could join us.”

Margaret the Apostle grinned like the Cheshire Cat.  “Thank you, Nathan!  I’ve listened to your show for so many years now—I’m a super-big fan!”

Konrad motioned for the engineer to lower Margaret’s microphone while scanning through his notepad.  “And we’re delighted as well, Miss Magdala.  My opening question for you relates to my monologue.  Assuming that Joe and Israel are both of supernatural origins, how do you know that you’re following the Son of God and not Satan?  As you may or may not be aware, according to the latest poll numbers, a greater percentage of Americans believe that Israel is the Second Coming, and by a wide margin—a whopping 17 percent.  What do these numbers say to you?”

Margaret was unfamiliar with those statistics.  Still, she knew her heart and she knew her faith.  “They say I need to become more forceful at communicating Joe’s message to the world—and appearing on influential programs such as yours is an important first step.  Joe’s message is perfect, even if my presentation, evidently, is not.  You know Nathan, there’s a reason why Christianity caught on like a wildfire and spread throughout Europe, the Americas and the entire world, becoming the dominant religion on the planet.  Islam, Judaism, Hinduism… none of them comes even close to matching the success of Christianity.  And it’s not a coincidence that the greatest scientific achievements of the past 500 years can all be traced to Christian nations.  Christianity succeeds because Christianity is right!  Eventually, Joe’s message will prevail because his message is truth.  Lies are momentary; truth stands forev—”

Konrad jackhammered his gold-plated pen on his desk, distracting Margaret.

“Yes, yes,” interrupted the radio icon.  “Of this we are not in conflict.  I’m not one of those pandering relativists who preach that all civilizations are of equal moral worth, for I believe in the superiority of the American way of life and our Christian system of values.  Take Islam, for example.  That religion silences intellectual debate by labeling free-thinkers as heretics.  As a result, I can’t think of one Muslim philosopher over the past thousand years who’s worth a damn.  Can you?”

Before Margaret could answer, Konrad continued: “Now, I’m not saying that Islam is of no moral worth—you Arab listeners, don’t take my statements out of context and start blowing stuff up again.  Sheesh.  You people have to learn how to accept criticism better.   I’m simply pointing out that the Islamic faith, as interpreted by its radicalized Imams, does not promote rigorous debate in an open marketplace of ideas.  As a result, its philosophy has stagnated, with the majority of Arabs lacking flush-toilets and a military that makes France look like a nation of Rambo’s.”

Now Konrad was really rolling: “My friends, I’ve noticed that these Arabs like to declare ‘Holy Wars’ against America, Israel and Europe.  They never actually win these Holy Wars; they just like declaring Holy Wars.  Can you remember the last time an Arab nation actually defeated a Christian—or even a Jewish—nation?  I think you have to go all the way back to the Ottoman Empire—a kingdom so pathetic, its name is used to describe furniture we rest our feet atop!  Worst kingdom ever!  But while we’re not in conflict on this point, fair-minded individuals can differ on matters of faith, and in my humble opinion, therein rests the key dilemma between Joe and Israel: How do we know which of the two is speaking the word of God and which is deceiving mankind?  As Shakespeare wrote long ago, ‘Even the Devil can quote Scripture for his own purpose.’”

A bright bulb herself, Margaret decided that the best way to handle Konrad and convince his audience of her message’s authenticity was to speak a bit bolder than the host—for while the meek might inherit the earth, only the assertive wins control of the microphone.  (But just to hedge her bets, she allowed her top blouse button to slip out of place.)

 

About the Author:

A nationally-recognized marketing expert, Scott Pinsker has worked with a vast array of sports stars, Grammy-winners and entertainment icons, managing everything from crisis communications to film properties.  His analysis of publicity trends has been showcased multiple times on FOXNews.com, where he occasionally contributes as a marketing expert.

Official Website

 

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Irresistible Reads BT

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Freakin Fridays is my own little meme. I’ll be posting about books, movies, and all things scary.

Feel free to join in and do your own Freakin Fridays posts.

Get your scare on!

Today I have the Book Blitz for Strigoi, The Blood Bond, an event organized by Bewitching Book Tours.

I’m really excited about this book. I have to read it!

I’m sharing the blurb and awesome book cover art, along with an excerpt and the video trailer.

And there’s also a giveaway. So don’t forget to enter.

Let’s have some fun!

Strigoi Banner 851 x 315

Strigoi: The Blood Bond

Tales of the Strigoi

Book 1

Ron D. Voigts

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Genre: Paranormal, Horror

Publisher: Night Wings Publishing

ASIN: B00LQRJBZ6

Number of pages: 231 / Word Count: 72,000

Cover Artist: Rachel R. Colon

Book Description:

 

On the verge of suicide after his wife leaves him, Alex Regal learns he has inherited property located in a small town deep within the mountains. Putting things on hold, he heads to Glade, hoping for something positive in his life. Getting there is easy but leaving proves to be impossible. A spell exists, keeping everyone captive in this hidden place.

The town of Glade is run by a Shapeshifter called the Strigoi. The creature needs to drink human blood to survive. In folklore, taking the form of a man or an animal, the Strigoi became the basis of stories about vampires or werewolves. Now Alex must discover a dark secret before he becomes the vampire’s next meal.

 

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=8wo4l7U-Xm4]

 

Available at Amazon

Enjoy the chilling excerpt!

Maggie awoke in darkness. She blinked. Inky black filled her vision. She recalled the stag standing in the road, losing control of the car, and the accident.

She tasted salt and metal. Her lower lip felt fat. A dull pain throbbed at the side of her head. She slid her fingers across her scalp and felt a bump.

Her hand shook as she reached out and touched the steering wheel. She ran her fingers along the column and felt the keys dangling in the ignition. The engine no longer ran. Moving farther, she touched the headlight switch and turned it.

The world lit up in front of her. The car had nosed into a tree. The headlight beams didn’t travel too far, absorbed by the brush, nearby trees, and the night. The dash clock read 2:13.

By best estimate, Maggie had been knocked out for about ten hours. Hopefully only that. She didn’t feel too bad except for the pain radiating from the bump on her head.

Now came a decision. Leave the car and head down the road, or stay?

A black shadow passed in front of the car lights. If she’d blinked and she might have missed it. Possibly the night playing a trick on her eyes.

Something hit the car hard. The vehicle rocked for a second and then grew quiet. Maggie held her breath and listened. All was silent like before.

Above her, something moved on the car’s roof. First, the sound came as gentle thumps, like someone walking above her. The noise grew louder. Pounding and scratching. Maggie realized whatever had leaped atop the car meant to claw its way in.

“Stop,” she screamed.

The sound became intense, the action more violent.

She cupped her hands over her ears and screamed, “Please, stop.”

Another boom came from overhead. A silhouette passed in front of the car lights again and vanished into the darkness. Maggie wondered if it had left.

Then the shadow appeared again, she heard a crash, and the left headlight went dark. Maggie thought this could not be happening. Things didn’t happen like this in the real world. Another crash and the right light went out.

The only light in the car came from the dashboard. Whatever was outside could see her by the glow. Her fingers fumbled for the switch, twisted it, and darkness once more wrapped around her.

Her breaths came in short pants. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her eyes opened, her eyes closed—the darkness remained the same. Minutes passed without a sound. The quiet grew unnerving.

What had it been? She’d heard of bears attacking vehicles. Certainly that would explain the agility and size of whatever it had been. But did bears come out at night?

A sickening feeling overwhelmed her—she was not alone. Something still remained outside, perhaps only feet from the car. She had not heard anything for a while now. Reason said it had left, but she knew it hadn’t. Whatever was outside waited for her.

She raised her hand and touched the underside of the car’s roof. Her fingers dragged across the surface of the liner, sweeping in gentle arcs until she found the dome light. Her fingertip slipped over the rocker switch.

A cold feeling washed over her. Her imagination played with her. If she pressed the switch and lit the interior, would something be outside, waiting? Would that be the trigger to provoke it?

When she could no longer stand it, she pushed. Light flooded the inside of the car. Nothing happened. She was alone. The light soothed her and kept the darkness away. The night had no power over her.

Then it hit the windshield. Fur pressed against the glass. A patch of fog wafted from the nostrils of a black nose. Fangs glistened in the light. Two red eyes stared at her.

Maggie pushed on the steering wheel, and the sound of the horn blared.

~~~

About the Author:

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Originally from the Midwest, Ron D. Voigts now call North Carolina home where he and his wife have a small house off the Neuse River. Ron’s writing credits include the Penelope Mystery Series for middle-grade readers and the dark mystery thriller, Claws of the Griffin. His reading taste is eclectic and depends if the first sentence captures his interest. When not writing and reading, he enjoys watching gritty movies, cooking gourmet food, and playing games on his PC.

Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads

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Tour giveaway

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It’s time for the Cover Reveal of Breathing Black

I can’t wait for you to see it!

Are you ready?

I am!

Here ya go!

Breathing Black cover GR SW(1)

New Adult/Adult Contemporary Romance/Thriller

Releasing December 2, 2014

Cover designed by Okay Creations

Pre-Order on Amazon

Goodreads

GRITTY. INTENSE. EMOTIONALLY HONEST.
A stunning debut novel that will leave you breathless.

A desolate childhood; a scarred, jaded, damaged girl. Larkin Grant knew she couldn’t end up like her mother … so she ran. All her belongings packed in the back of a rusted, brown Cadillac, her best friend June in the passenger seat as the co-pilot, she fled Aspen and never looked back.

A new life in a new city, Larkin was finally starting to breathe again, an unfamiliar sense of happiness seeping into her lungs. Landon Black, the boy she loved from afar, came back into her life despite leaving him and her awful memories buried hundreds of miles away. A weakened pulse brought back to life.

He said she was beautiful. She was starting to believe him. He pursued her and changed the course of everyone’s plans. Life had dealt Larkin a cruel hand, but maybe this was it. Maybe the boy that never knew she existed finally saw her and came to free her from the darkness of her past.

But we are never truly free. There are secrets that bind us and lies that unravel from the most beautiful of lips. Blackness that suffocates and makes us question everything we thought we knew. Larkin and Landon are intertwined in ways they never imagined, their future unclear as ghosts come back to haunt them.

Friendship. Revenge. Love. Drugs. Murder. Deceit.

The first in a two-book series, Breathing Black is a mix of suspense and breathless romance. It’s a provocative tale that challenges what one is willing to do to protect the ones they love. An emotional journey where trust isn’t an option and falling in love never hurt so bad.

Breathing Black Quote  Nerves

 

EXCERPT

My mother once said love is like a drug, fast and euphoric. Licking lips, high on the idea it’s going to last forever, until you’re clawing at your skin trying to escape the destructive poison you let inside.

 

I woke up to my phone vibrating in my purse. The realization of the darkness that surrounded me came crashing back into my pounding head along with everything else that had taken place. I sat up and crawled on the cold tile floor, following the sound of my phone drumming into the ground. I grabbed it out of my purse and dismissed an unknown Colorado area code number.

4:30 p.m. I’d been in this bathroom for hours.

By choice.

I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want move or face reality, so I chose to lie there and let the crippling fog of sleep take over so I could pretend none of it happened.

I peeked under the bathroom door into his office. It was dark and silent so I felt up the wall finding the light switch and turned it on. Walking over to the bathroom sink and looking into the mirror was painful, a visible reminder of how pathetic I truly was. Splashing water on my face wouldn’t rinse away the misery. I left as quickly as possible, peeking out of the blinds into the hallway until the coast was clear so I could open the door and run down the emergency exit stairs.

Right when I got home, I got into the bathtub. All I wanted to do was cleanse myself of Landon Black, but the water wouldn’t get hot enough, and my hands couldn’t scrub fast enough. I wanted to wash away the way he made me feel. I wanted to wash away everything he did to me Saturday night. I was so disgusted with myself. How could I be so blind? Sobs strangled my lungs as my cries tore up my throat until after a while I finally just stopped. Like a blown fuse, my body shut off. I lay in a white bathroom, in the white tub, with white noise resonating in my ears, yet all I could think about was red. I sat in the bathtub letting the hot water that had now turned to ice soak my skin. He used me. Everything that happened between us was a goddamn lie. So many questions raced through my mind. The biggest one was why?

Breathing Black Quote Flaws

 

To sign-up for the Breathing Black Tour this December 2nd – 20th , visit AToMR’s site!

Piper Payne is hosting a reveal giveaway!

 Enter to win an ARC of Breathing Black and a $25 Amazon Gift Crad.

Click on the rafflecopter below to enter.

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About the Author

piper

My love for literature and writing is an addiction. My mind is continually telling stories and I have a queue of books I want to write being stacked up in my brain. I don’t know how to write pretty and perfect so I write perfectly flawed and unpredictable. Just like life.

I’m married to my best friend and I’m mother to three little miracles. I love going to farmers markets, bookstores, and long drives with my family in my ruby red Bronco. I also have an unhealthy love for makeup, Oreos, Halloween, queso dip, psychic readings, sushi, massages, and Redd’s Apple Ale.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Amazon

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I love sharing books with fellow word lovers.
Come on in and check out Fading Light, the second book in the Shadow Born Series by Angela Dennis.
I have an exciting excerpt to share with you.
And there’s a giveaway too, so don’t forget to enter.
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Title:  Fading Light
Series:  Shadow Born #2
Author:    Angela Dennis
Published:  September 23rd, 2014
Publisher:  Samhain Publishing
Word Count:  72,000
Genre:  Urban Fantasy
Content Warning:  Sexual Material and Violence
Recommended Age:  18+
 
Synopsis:
Everyone has a breaking point.
Her hundred-year penance lifted, Shadow Bearer Brenna Baudouin returns to the Earthly plane with her partner, Gray Warlow, to keep the peace between humans and supernatural creatures—and to prevent another apocalyptic war from happening.
The attraction between them is nearing a critical point, but their checkered history has left Brenna unable to trust either her heart or her instincts.
It’s chaotic business as usual until humans begin turning to statues of dust. There is no explanation, no sign of magical foul play or a biological toxin. The humans are convinced it’s the work of a deviant supernatural faction, twisting the knife in the already tense relationship between their species. Brenna and Gray agree—the deaths have a former comrade-turned-rogue stamped all over them.
In a race against time, they enlist the help of both friend and foe to save the human race and stop the impending civil war. Along the way, they are forced to come to terms with their past and decide, once and for all, whether they will come together or fall apart.
Warning: Contains a heroine who knows her weapons but not her own heart, an outbreak of supernatural proportions, copious bloodletting, and a race to save an endangered species—humans. All tied up in a tight bow of sexual tension.
Excerpt:
Darkness embraced Brenna like a thick wool blanket. It wrapped around her, blocking the dim lamplight as she walked toward the seedy bar. Glass residue from the riots crunched beneath her leather boots. Mixed with snow, the bits of broken beer bottles and smashed windows glittered like an army of broken icicles. She breathed deeply, inhaling the cool night air. It smelled of sour beer and clove cigarettes and left a bitter taste on her tongue.
Shadows embraced the sides of the stone structure that housed the Dirty Ruby, one of the few multi-species bars in Denver proper. They stalked across the snow and mixed with the night to merge into a black mass. From its midst stepped a man. Well over six feet, he moved with grace in contrast to his size. The moonlight played across his face, highlighting his chiseled features.
Brenna’s pulse quickened and she took an involuntary step forward. Self-conscious, she ran a hand through her copper curls, freeing them from the careless bun. The thick strands streamed down her back like fire as she moved, her breath coming in quick harsh bursts. She slipped off her black leather duster and draped it across her arm. Without it the tight black corset left her taut belly and back exposed, but she didn’t feel the cold. She never did around Gray.
“Four demons. Thirty humans. Keep the casualties to a minimum.” Brenna brushed past him, tossing him her coat. “I’ll bring them out. You send them back to hell.”
“Hell?” Gray grinned. His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “You speak human now?”
She shrugged. “When in Rome.”
Her back to him, she turned toward the freshly white-washed door. But before she could move, he had her shoulder in a vise grip. His fingers twined in the hair at the base of her skull. His breath hot against her cheek. “I know your other partners let you boss them around.” He turned her to face him. “I’m not them.”
He stepped forward, forcing her back. They moved in an awkward dance until her ass hit the stone wall. Trapped, she stared at him, wary. A shadow fell across his face hiding all but his piercing violet eyes.
“We enter together. Once they’re dead, we leave.” He stepped back, loosening his hold.
“The humans—”
“Won’t remember a thing.” He crushed his lips to hers even as he slid the duster across her shoulders. “And I’m not your coat rack.” Releasing her, he stepped back.
Brenna rubbed the back of her hand against her bruised lips. Gray would be the death of her.
If she didn’t kill him first.
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About the Author:
Angela Dennis lives outside Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, son and a sheltie with a hero complex. When she is not at her computer crafting stories, she can be found feeding her coffee addiction, playing peek-a-boo, or teaching her son about the great adventures found only in books.
 
 
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