After tragedy strikes on the day they were to wed, Jayden must support Kadesh as he ascends the throne and becomes king of Sariba. But with the dark priestess Aliyah conspiring to control the crown, and the arrival of Horeb, Jayden’s former betrothed, Kadesh’s kingdom, as well as his status as king, is at stake.
Jayden knows that the time to be merciful has come and gone, and that some enemies can only be halted by death. Now she and Kadesh must prepare to fight not only for their love, but also for their kingdom.
This is the final book in the epic trilogy that began with Forbidden and Banished. Jayden and Kadesh’s love will be put to the ultimate test as they fight a war to save their kingdom.
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Enjoy the excerpt.
Last night should have been one of bliss. After all Kadesh and I had been through—the loss of my family, the trek through the harsh desert . . . this should have been our night, the first as husband and wife in the marriage tent. I’d imagined us sipping wine and bathing in a marbled bath. Lying in perfect luxury on a golden bed, together at last.
Instead, Kadesh and I were like lost children, orphaned by the sudden death of his uncle, King Ephrem, and our wedding ceremony that had been irrevocably destroyed mere hours ago.
While King Ephrem’s pyre burned out, the last of the red flames snapped at the salty sea air, devouring the body of the King of Sariba.
A hot wind whipped at my bridal gown. I wanted to scrape the horror of the night from my sight until my eyelids were raw.
Praise for the Book
Booklist (starred review)
“At its core, this is a romance, with all the push and pull that goes along with impossible love, and Little elevates the story by creating a perilous landscape, both outward and inward, as Jayden must deal with the hardship of desert life as well as her own desires. . . descriptions of the landscape are evocative in both desolation and in beauty. Just as good is the pacing, which gets the blood pumping for both characters and readers. This will heighten anticipation for a no-doubt exciting conclusion.”
Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
“Rich historical details are deftly woven into Jayden’s narration, and the dynamics of Jayden’s tribe are vividly drawn. Jayden’s story becomes as much about finding herself as it is about finding love.”
Reader: “This book took my breath away. I loved the immersive story and the rich setting of ancient Mesopotamia. The customs, traditions, and beliefs of the desert people were captivating and every time I set the book down I couldn’t wait to pick it up again. I’ve never read anything like this before.”
Reader: “Forbidden was so captivating that I awoke early in the morning, while my family was still sleeping, so I could finish the last pages of this beautifully haunting tale.”
Author Kimberley Griffiths Little
Kimberley Griffiths Little is the author of ten award-winning Middle-Grade and Young Adult novels with Knopf, Scholastic and Harpercollins, including the Whitney Award, the Arizona/New Mexico Book Award, the SCBWI Crystal Kite, the Southwest Book Award, and others. ALA BOOKLIST named FORBIDDEN, the first book in her Ancient Mesopotamian historical fantasy a Young Adult Top 10 novel for the Historical category, Romance category, and Religious/Inspirational.
Kimberley adores anything old and musty with a secret story to tell. She once stayed in the haunted tower room at Borthwick Castle in Scotland and didn’t sleep a wink; sailed the Seine in Paris; ridden a camel in Petra, Jordan; shopped the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul; and spent the night in an old Communist hotel in Bulgaria. She was born in San Francisco but now lives on the banks of the Rio Grande with her husband and three sons.
Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.
I have a special treat for you from Marilyn Peake.
Genre: Horror / Fantasy
My Review
I first read this as individual novellas in the series. It was fun to finish one and make myself wait until the next night to read another. I did that for all six novellas, and when I finished them, I wanted more. Now I’ve read them all back to back in this omnibus and found them even more emotional.
It’s too often true that the monsters we need to fear the most are the human ones. Those with power and money want more power and money and don’t hesitate to unleash hell on the innocent to fulfill their own desires. What happens is wrong on so many levels. You’re put through the emotional wringer as characters struggle to survive and make sense of the end of their world.
Once the human monsters let loose the Z Virus, the zombies wreak havoc and blood and brains splatter throughout. Marilyn knows how to please her zombie fans.
I’m one of those zombie fans and ate this up!
5 Stars
~~~~~
Synopsis
Omnibus Edition of All Six Books in the Mutation Z Series
Ebola, one of the most feared of the hemorrhagic diseases, begins spreading across the borders of countries in West Africa. Soon after, the disease mutates into the “Z” or Zombie Virus. Journalist Hunter Morgan uncovers a disturbing connection between Chen-Zamora Pharmaceuticals and this mutation. Further investigation reveals a web of sinister intrigue connecting the pharmaceutical company to a treatment and research camp in West Africa, U.S. government officials, the CDC and the World Health Organization. Racing against time to find a cure, Hunter and several scientists go underground in order to hide from powerful forces trying to silence them forever.
Marilyn Peake is the author of both novels and short stories. Her publications have received excellent reviews. Marilyn’s one of the contributing authors in BOOK: THE SEQUEL, published by The Perseus Books Group, with one of her entries included in serialization at THE DAILY BEAST. In addition, Marilyn has served as Editor of a number of anthologies. Her short stories have been published in seven anthologies and on the literary blog, GLASS CASES.
Awards: Silver Award, two Honorable Mentions and eight Finalist placements in the ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Awards, two Winner and two Finalist placements in the EPPIE Awards, Winner of the Dream Realm Awards, and eight Top Ten Finisher Awards in the Preditors and Editors Readers Poll.
The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.
Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!
My 56 for this week is from:
The Breedling & The City In The Garden
The Element Odysseys #1
by Kimberlee Ann Bastian
Genre: YA Historical Fantasy
From page 56 in the paperback.
He was not surprised to see them loitering, for nothing happened on Morgan Street without Frankenstein knowing about it. He cringed at the thought of what story they might tell, his friendly exchange with the kid and the bird attack noteworthy news.
~~~~~
Read on if you want to know more.
Synopsis
Absolute obedience, servitude, neutrality.
These were the laws that once governed Bartholomew, an immortal soulcatcher, until one ill-fated night when he was forced to make a choice: rebel against his masters or reveal an ancient, dangerous secret.
He chose defiance.
Imprisoned for centuries as punishment for his decision, Bartholomew wastes away—until he creates an opportunity to escape. By a stroke of chance, Bartholomew finds himself in the human world and soon learns that breaking his bonds does not come without a price. Cut off from the grace that once ruled him, he must discover a new magic in 1930s Chicago.
Armed with only a cryptic message to give him direction, Bartholomew desperately tries to resume the mission he had started so long ago. Relying on the unlikely guidance of the streetwise orphan Charlie Reese, Bartholomew must navigate the depressed streets of the City in the Garden. But in order to solve this riddle, he must first discover if choice and fate are one in the same.
Welcome to Freakin Fridays, where I share my reviews of books that scare you, thrill you, and get those endorphins pumping.
Got a good one today. It’s the sixth in a series but could easily stand alone.
The Spirit In St. Louis
From the Files of the BSI #6
by Mark Everett Stone
Genre: Fantasy / Urban Fantasy
My Review
I ain’t afraid of no ghost. Yeah, right. An office building is taken over by an evil entity and everyone runs for cover. Who you gonna call? The BSI. And when they send a team and the team never comes out, who do they call? Kal Hakala, that’s who.
Kal is one of the best agents in the BSI (Bureau of Supernatural Investigation), but he’s been riding a desk since a dust up and some bad decisions on his last mission. He takes the assignment and hand picks his team. All except for one. A magician is required for every team. It only makes sense to fight magic with magic.
Kal picks a motley crew, but he has his reasons.
Rat. The magician. Not picked by Kal. A pervert and totally unlikable. Hopefully he’ll have the right stuff when the going gets tough.
Dove. A hell cat. She’s double tough and a match for any man. But it’s no man waiting inside that building.
Ghost. With an IQ off the charts, he joined his mind with the internet. The go to guy without a body, he’s linked to each team member by their headsets.
Billings. A diagnosed sociopath who, so far, has curbed his impulses to killing what needs to be killed and not his own team.
Ng. To look at him, you’d think he has no business being on the team. But he’s calm in a crisis with a fight tooth and nail attitude.
And then there’s Buffalo. Super smart. Competitive and goal oriented. Built like a tank and a good guy.
They enter the building. What awaits them is anyone’s guess. Who will come out? Maybe nobody.
Hang on to your boot straps. This is one hell of a ride. The thing in the building isn’t a ghost. It’s something much worse. Not long after entering, the team becomes separated and each must face their own horror. They go to hell and back, not all of them making it out alive.
There’s something about a book that won’t let go. That keeps you focused on the next sentence, paragraph, page. I tore through this, fearing the worst and getting plenty of it.
If you’re a fan of horror and thriller movies, there’s lots of quips you’ll recognize. I caught myself looking for them.
My best description of this book: Predator meets Doom. There’s lots of cool gadgets and monsters.
And while I may have jumped into this series late, with it being the 6th one, I had no problems following along. There were brief mentions of previous events that cleared up any confusion and made me curious to go back and read the earlier books.
This is a sneaky story. The cover doesn’t reveal what’s waiting inside, but once you read the book, you’ll see it works. I had a blast and would recommend this to anyone that enjoys urban fantasy with a dose or two of horror.
5 Stars
~~~~~
Some favorite quotes:
“God, you’re such a pain in the ass.”
“Part of my undeniable charm.”
and
“Think of Q Branch in the Bond films, but with more explosions and things being turned into puddles of goo.”
~~~~~
Synopsis
The whole world now knows of the existence of the World Under, thanks to fallout from the terrible events in Omaha a year back. As the World Under’s most effective foe, Kal Hakala performed actions that were both heroic and horrific. Now, sidelined as an Agent, he serves the Bureau of Supernatural Investigation as its public face, charming talk show hosts and training new recruits known as “Green Peas.” However, the World Under never rests, and events force Kal back into action. A malevolent spirit occupies St. Louis’s Quint Building, and the team sent in to combat it disappears after their leader is driven to suicide. The BSI has no choice but to send in Kalevi Hakala and his team to solve the problem. As each of the individual members of Kal’s team is isolated and dumped into his or her private hell, Kal begins to wonder if he hasn’t finally met his match: the most powerful force the World Under has to offer. Book 6 in the From the Files of the BSI series.
Born in Helsinki, Finland, Mark Everett Stone arrived in the U.S. at a young age and promptly dove into the world of the fantastic. Starting at age seven with the Iliad and the Odyssey, he went on to consume every scrap of Norse Mythology he could get his grubby little paws on. At age thirteen he graduated to Tolkien and Heinlein, building up a book collection that soon rivaled the local public library’s. In college Mark majored in Journalism and minored in English. Mark is feverishly working on his next book, The Judas Line, while his amazingly patient wife, Brandie, keeps him and their two sons, Aeden and Gabriel, in check.
An old tale tells the story of how a little man named Rumpelstiltskin spun straw into gold and tricked a desperate girl into trading away her baby. But that’s not exactly how it happened.
The real story began with a drunken father who kept throwing money away on alcohol and women, while his daughter, Aoife, ran the family farm on her own. When he gambled away everything they owned to the Duke, it was up to her to spin straw into gold to win it all back.
With her wits and the help of a magical guardian, she outsmarted the Duke and saved the day.
Well almost…
Her guardian suddenly turned on Aoife and sent her on a quest to find his name, the clues to which were hidden deep in the woods, a moldy dungeon, and a dead woman’s chamber.
This is not the tale of a damsel in distress, but a tenacious, young woman who solved a mystery so great that not even the enchanted man who spun straw into gold could figure it out.
The morning mist had almost lifted in the village of Stanishire, the farmers and fishermen were readying the market, women were shouting chores to sleepy children, and Aoife was on her way to collect her father from the town brothel, where the painted ladies entertained men’s nocturnal needs.
When she reached the main street, she dismounted and tied her horse to a hitching post. She walked around the corner of the brothel where no one could see her, adjusted her skirt, and ran her fingers through her hair. Practice had taught her how to jiggle the finicky latch so its reluctant grip released and granted her entrance. The back hallway was dark and quiet. Maggie, the young girl who helped cook and clean, was opening windows to release the sweat and perfume-laced air. Broken glass littered the floor, and cards from unfinished games lay scattered on tables.
“Maggie,” Aoife whispered.
Maggie turned into the dust motes in a sliver of daylight. Over the years, Aoife had learned to call her gently and not to sneak up on her lest she startle the young girl as she had done the first time they met here when Aoife was eleven and Maggie just nine.
“Eeeeef-uh!” Maggie’s eyes lit up as she called Aoife’s name. She had always over-enunciated each syllable in what sounded like a sigh of relief.
She took hold of Aoife’s hand, pulling her around the corner and into the kitchen, one of the only places in the residence that passed for a respectable room.
“Wait here,” Maggie said, kissing Aoife on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
Aoife looked around at the pots hanging on the wall that Maggie kept so shiny. A rolling pin on the counter was coated with flour and the smell of bread baking in the oven filled the dimly lit room. In the corner was Maggie’s chair with a basket of women’s stockings waiting to be darned. Aoife turned her back to the parlor door and everything that happened there, pretending her visits with Maggie by the fire were no different than a visit with any other village girl. The sight of Maggie humming as she patched up stockings always made Aoife think of her younger sister, Tara, lying under her heavy blankets, sewing away at some pattern their mother had her working on. Aoife felt that Tara and Maggie would have enjoyed chatting over their sewing, if only Tara were not stuck in bed with a perpetual cough and Maggie the progeny of a brothel.
“Aoife. You look quite bright and alive considering the early hour.”
Aoife jumped as Maeve strolled over and pulled a leaf from Aoife’s hair.
“I see you’ve been busy with your studies,” Maeve added.
Aoife touched her hair, searching for more debris. Maeve’s dressing gown exposed her cleavage and her long, dark curls draped over her bare shoulders without apology. Aoife had seen her dressed, powdered, and painted since she was a girl, and she admired the way her gaze, so piercing, seemed to command respect from everyone. But what had captivated Aoife the most was something more powerful and more impressive than Maeve’s beauty. Although crow’s feet now punctuated her eyes, and her waistline had thickened, the most powerful men deferred to her, bowing their heads in her direction when she traveled through the streets.
“I couldn’t resist the path through the woods,” Aoife replied, knowing she could hide nothing from her.
Maeve stared at her. The affection in her appraisal was always slightly distant, stopping just short of motherly.
“Seamus is taking care of things,” Maeve said with her usual calm.
Aoife nodded and looked again at the shiny pots, trying to focus on anything but Seamus’ highly embarrassing ritual of waking her father, the fairly infamous Finnegan, from wherever he had ended his evening and saddling him on his horse. Maggie pulled a loaf of steaming bread from the oven and set out plates, knives, and a bowl of fresh butter. Each of them took their place around the table as Maggie generously portioned out the bread. Maeve let her shawl fall over the back of her chair and straightened up her shoulders, exposing even more of herself. Aoife flushed and bit quietly into her bread, savoring the flavor and the moment.
There was an honesty and warmth in this kitchen that she never felt in the presence of her own mother. Conversation and warm bread was what made coming to get her father for all these years worth the lashings she used to receive from her mother when she returned home.
“I hear that your latest suitor was seen heading out of town yesterday,” Maeve said. “I gather his hasty departure means that there will be no nuptials?”
Aoife shook her head and cast a quick smile at Maggie.
“I can’t imagine why you didn’t want to marry that one,” Maeve said. “Lots of gold, a manor house to the east with more land than you and your horse could ever discover, and handsome, too. What more could a girl want than a man with piles of gold and a good set of teeth?”
“A man who is blind and deaf and preferably feeble – with deep pockets, of course. Then I can live my life in peace and never have to worry about his teeth – or mine for that matter.”
Maggie giggled, and Maeve raised an appreciative eyebrow, offering her signature half-smile, half-smirk. Aoife grinned and took another bite of the steaming bread.
“And what do your parents say?” Maeve asked. Her features had softened, but her thoughts remained inscrutable. “I can’t imagine they find your refusals as entertaining as we do.”
Aoife fell silent. This was an unexpected detour in the script. They avoided direct references to Aoife’s family. It made breaking bread between them possible, since the money Maeve took from Aoife’s father by night was one of the greatest strains on her family’s resources, reputation, and love. The medicine that Tara often went without after her father’s reckless trips was reason enough for Aoife to despise Maeve, but she had learned to avoid dwelling on these realities. She needed Maeve enough to tolerate her father’s indiscretions, since rescuing him had now become a means of escaping her life. Discussing her family jeopardized everything.
“Well, no, they are not exactly pleased,” Aoife replied, her brashness fading.
Maeve wiped the corner of her mouth and cleared her throat. Something in the air had changed.
“You know, at some point, perhaps sooner than you might expect, they will stop coming. First, the young ones with stacks of gold and good teeth. They have the most fragile egos and will seek out friendlier pastures. Then eventually, even the wrinkly ones, with and without gold, will find calling on you not worth the effort,” Maeve paused. “The tales of your beauty will be replaced by tales of new faces with more welcoming smiles. The choices left to you will be slim.”
The bread balled up in Aoife’s throat. She could have had breakfast in her own home if she wanted this type of talk. She suddenly felt incensed that Madame Maeve dared to criticize her.
“My mother mires me in these traps daily,” Aoife dusted the crumbs from her hands. “She appreciates neither the risk to my reputation I take coming here nor the fact that I am the one who has run the farm for years now.”
“This is true. Your family would be in the poor house and your sister probably with God if not for your courage and your brains,” Maeve said. “But I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about you and your future. You must understand that there are consequences for you, whether you say yes or no to the suitors who come your way.”
She raised an eyebrow, which seemed loaded with a warning left to Aoife to decipher. It had a familiar ring to it, like the warnings her mother made so often about the consequences of Aoife’s trips to Maeve’s house.
“No respectable man will ever want to marry a girl who consorts with vile women, not when he thinks he can pay a few coins for her instead,” her mother would say.
Her mother lived in such a dream world she did not recognize that Aoife was trying to protect the family’s reputation and as much of their finances as was possible. Her mother worried more about Aoife’s reputation than the food on the table and Tara’s medicine. And because of that, a chasm had grown between them too deep to ever cross.
“My choices are just as narrow as every other girl’s. I know that,” Aoife said standing up abruptly. Her shawl dropped to the floor, its power to protect her no match for the storm brewing in the kitchen. “But I’d never compromise myself – or give men control over my body for money like you do. Of that you can be sure.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Maeve replied, completely unruffled. “But it’s interesting that you did. And, Aoife, no matter what choice you make – your husband’s house, my house, or the nunnery – you are exchanging control over your body for money. Of that you can be sure.”
“I have given half my life already to protecting my family. Everyday, whether I’m seeing that fields are reseeded and sheep are sheared or carting my father home from here, I am picking up the pieces of my family’s fortune that my father has broken apart,” Aoife said with less command of her voice than she would have liked. “And now, after I’ve done everything I can to save this family, they – and you – expect me to sell myself off to the next buyer, supposedly to protect them? I can’t do it.”
Aoife knew there was no way for a woman to survive in the world without the protection of a man, yet the security they offered was never guaranteed. Her father’s choices still chipped away at the pieces of what was once her mother, Bronagh. Still bedecked in the jewels of their courtship, she found her only solace and comfort in embroidering ornate and regal designs and patterns by the night fire, awaiting his return from Maeve’s as if her delicate hands could somehow stitch back together the girl he had unraveled and the lives he had torn apart at the seams. Bronagh would not even consider selling her tapestries or needlework to help support her family, for that would have been beneath a woman of her status. Aoife, however, was not built to sit and sew while their fortune and Tara’s health deteriorated at the hands of her father. She needed to be on her feet fixing the problem, not decorating the home they were sure to lose if no one intervened.
Bronagh had traded away her soul for a broken promise of safety and love, and she expected Aoife to do the same. But now Maeve, too? Her advice was nothing less than a betrayal.
“For women not made to curtsey obediently through life, there is no easy choice.” A subtle urgency belied Maeve’s calm. “However, refusing every suitor is not a means of controlling your life, but rather giving over control to whatever or whomever is left over.”
“So I should marry the next man who comes along or end up in a whore house like you?” Aoife said, wincing at her angry words.
She was angry that Maeve had taken her mother’s side, but she did not relish wounding the one person who had always been a source of strength and understanding. Despite her words, Maeve’s features revealed not even the slightest hint of hurt.
“What I am saying is that you ought to turn away any option which would leave you without hope of peace and contentment,” Maeve replied. “But do not fool yourself into waiting for a perfect choice to present itself, because it never will.”
Aoife felt her stomach lurch. She needed to get away from this house, this woman, and the truth. Turning around, she marched outside where her father was standing. She walked to her horse and looked to see if he needed assistance. The legacy of too much mead weighed on his haggard figure as Seamus helped him to his horse.
“I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you this morning, my sweet Aoife,” her father’s worn voice eschewed sadly.
“I know, father,” she replied. “You’re always sorry.”
He swayed precariously in either direction and then took Aoife’s hand suddenly.
“You’re too good to me, Aoife,” he whispered. “You should be reaching for the–”
“Stars,” she finished. “I know, Father.”
He closed his eyes and pressed her hand between his.
“My hand’s grown since we spent our nights stargazing.”
He nodded and Aoife felt a pang of nostalgia sweep over her. She missed the way he used to pick her up from her mother’s side by the fire and take her out of doors to look at the moon and stars. The memory of the polished scent of him from her childhood came back over the stench of mead that clung to him now. He had been a good father once upon a time. She looked up, searching for any fragment of the man who tossed her high in the air as a little girl. The sparkle of a tear danced at the corner of his eye. There he was. She kissed his forehead tenderly and he sighed with the soft smile reserved only for Aoife. His favorite.
About Author Bonnie M. Hennessy
Bonnie grew up a shy, quiet girl who the teachers always seated next to the noisy boys because they knew she was too afraid to talk to anyone. She always had a lot she wanted to say but was too afraid to share it for fear she might die of embarrassment if people actually noticed her. Somewhere along the line, perhaps after she surprised her eighth grade class by standing up to a teacher who was belittling a fellow student, she realized that she had a voice and she didn’t burst into flames when her classmates stared at her in surprise.
Not long after that, she began spinning tales, some of which got her into trouble with her mom. Whether persuading her father to take her to the candy store as a little girl or convincing her parents to let her move from Los Angeles to Manhattan to pursue a career at eighteen as a ballet dancer with only $200 in her pocket, Bonnie has proven that she knows how to tell a compelling story.
Now she spends her time reading and making up stories for her two children at night. By day she is an English teacher who never puts the quiet girls next to the noisy boys and works hard to persuade her students that stories, whether they are the ones she teaches in class or the ones she tells to keep them from daydreaming, are better escapes than computers, phones, and social media.
Welcome to My Monday Minis Reviews where I share short reviews of books I’ve read. For today I’ll be sharing two books with the same titles but different authors and story lines.
Ink and Bone
by Lisa Unger
Genre: Mystery / Thriller / Horror
My Review
After reading the synopsis for this book, no way was I not reading it.
A father and son shot, left wounded in the Hollows while the daughter, Abbey, is dragged away by her abductor.
A young woman, haunted by dreams and ghosts, paints her body with tattoos, slowly losing control of her gifts.
The Hollows, buried in winter snow, not giving up it’s secrets.
A mother struggling to stay sane, makes a last desperate attempt to find her daughter.
I enjoy it when a story pulls me in right from the beginning and the author did just that. I lost track of things going on around me and kept reading …. kept reading, until I was done.
The character’s are strongly developed and drive the story, and the plot is busy and exhilarating, reminding me of a dangerous winding road. You race around each bend, never knowing what waits in the road to send the story out of control.
A real page turner for anyone looking for a thriller with some suspense and horror, plus a bit of the paranormal thrown in.
4 Stars
Synopsis
An instant page-turner (Lisa Gardner) that straddles the line between thriller and horror…sure to appeal to a wide range of readers, including Stephen King fans. (Booklist, starred) A young woman’s mysterious gift forces her into the middle of a dangerous investigation of a little girl’s disappearance.
Twenty-year-old Finley Montgomery is rarely alone. Visited by people whom others can’t see and haunted by prophetic dreams, she has never been able to control or understand the things that happen to her. When Finley’s abilities start to become too strong for her to handle – and even the roar of her motorcycle or another dazzling tattoo can’t drown out the voices – she turns to the only person she knows who can help her: her grandmother Eloise Montgomery, a renowned psychic living in The Hollows, New York.
Merri Gleason is a woman at the end of her tether after a ten-month-long search for her missing daughter, Abbey. With almost every hope exhausted, she resorts to hiring Jones Cooper, a detective who sometimes works with psychic Eloise Montgomery. Merri’s not a believer, but she’s just desperate enough to go down that road, praying that she’s not too late. Time, she knows, is running out.
As a harsh white winter moves into The Hollows, Finley and Eloise are drawn into the investigation, which proves to have much more at stake than even the fate of a missing girl. As Finley digs deeper into the town and its endless layers, she is forced to examine the past, even as she tries to look into the future. Only one thing is clear: The Hollows gets what it wants, no matter what.
A book about the Great Library of Alexandria, and a fantasy to boot. I was sold and knew it would be a good fit for me.
Owning books is forbidden in this world. You can view and read books through the use of alchemy, but can’t actually own a book.
I don’t know about you but I love my physical books. I just know I’d break the rules and something terrible would happen. And so it goes with this story. Jess breaks the rules with his illegal cache of books. How interesting as he’s assigned to spy on those who break those very rules. When something wondrous and potentially dangerous is created it could change the world. Chaos ensues and it’s not just books that will be burned.
Ooh, now how does that grab ya? Once I got familiar with this world I was quickly swept away. Lots of intrigue and suspense kept me enthralled right to the finale.
This is an exciting beginning to a promising fantasy series. I’ll be visiting it again.
4 Stars
Synopsis
In an exhilarating new series, “New York Times” bestselling author Rachel Caine rewrites history, creating a dangerous world where the Great Library of Alexandria has survived the test of time.
Ruthless and supremely powerful, the Great Library is now a presence in every major city, governing the flow of knowledge to the masses. Alchemy allows the Library to deliver the content of the greatest works of history instantly but the personal ownership of books is expressly forbidden.
Jess Brightwell believes in the value of the Library, but the majority of his knowledge comes from illegal books obtained by his family. Jess has been sent to be his family spy, but his loyalties are tested in the final months of his training to enter the Library s service.
When his friend inadvertently commits heresy by creating a device that could change the world, Jess discovers that those who control the Great Library believe knowledge is more valuable than any human life and soon both heretics and books will burn.”
Got a good one to share with you today, so let’s get to it!
Vincent, Survivor
Vincent Series #1
by O.L. Eggert
Genre: Fantasy / Urban Fantasy
My Review
This is a gritty read to sink your teeth into.
The story goes….Vincent Li isn’t the nicest guy. He’s had to do some bad things to survive in Oakwood. Not the best of neighborhoods. He’s thrilled when his brother Dante shows up. Been doing a stint in prison.
They’re on their way to go see Grandma and not looking forward to it. Bette is affectionately known as Grandma to many in the neighborhood and helped the brothers survive the streets when they were left on their own. She may look frail, but her tongue lashings are sharp as a whip.
Shortly after arriving and taking the heat from Grandma, they discover she actually has a real granddaughter, Elise. There’s no time to get into the fact that Grandma always said she didn’t have family because things go sideways.
Minotaurs appear on the streets. And other strange beings start emerging everywhere. Gates have been opened and creatures from another world are pouring through them, hell bent on taking over the planet for their own.
This is one of those books where the pace and action starts fast and never slows down until the finish. It’s filled with strange creatures and some genuine characters.
I’d have to say Vincent, Dante, and Grandma are my favorites. Vincent and Dante have a tight bond, not just because they’re brothers, but also because they’ve had to go through and do some bad things to survive. They’re rough around the edges, but fierce when things turn to crap.
And Grandma is a tough cookie. She may be in her sixties, but she’s full of spit and vinegar. Her tough love helped to keep Dante and Vincent from being statistics on a police blotter.
One other to add to the list is Flea. A pint sized enigma. He’s from another world and seems a bit clueless at times, but he comes in handy when things get ugly.
There are plenty of other characters, some minor and some major, that flesh out and add to the plot. Too many for me to mention here. And more than one storyline, which I’m hoping I’ll learn more about in upcoming books. This is the first book in the series, and I’m sure we’ll meet many of the characters again in the other books. At least those that survive this one.
With ghouls and killer sentient Minotaurs, along with some other mythical beings rampaging through this story, I’d tag this as an urban fantasy with a pinch of science fiction added in. Lots of action and danger and some well developed characters keep the plot moving fast and the suspense building. And, while this is a series, and the story doesn’t end here, there’s not a huge cliffhanger. You get answers along the way, and an opening for more.
4 Stars
~~~~~
Some favorite quotes:
“Have you ever known life to be fair? I’d say it’s a downright bitch.”
**
“Nothing binds us together tighter, nothing makes us fight harder, than a healthy dose of hope.”
~~~~~
Synopsis
Vincent Li always assumed he’d die in Oakwood. If the local gangs didn’t get him, then cigarettes and alcohol eventually would.
Now, he’s pretty sure minotaurs will kill him instead, and if not them, the ghouls dragging people into the dark will.
In the wake of an unexplained spike in homicides, a masked figure opens portals to another world—a world filled with dangerous magic and mythological monsters. Creatures that shouldn’t exist suddenly do, and they don’t mix well with humans. Vincent is trapped in Oakwood as the city is torn apart, but he’s no stranger to violence and will do whatever it takes to survive.
O.L. (Oliver Leland) Eggert has always been a reader of fantasy and sci-fi. His love of the genre spread to everything else in his life, so he ultimately became a big game/book/movie geek. He also enjoys the occasional anime.
He currently resides in the Silicon Valley with his soon-to-be wife and two dogs: Arya and Dexter. Can you guess which characters the dogs are named after?
To learn more about his current writing projects, follow him at:
The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.
Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!
My 56 for this week is from:
Guarded
The Silverton Chronicles #1
by Carmen Fox
Genre: Fantasy / Urban Fantasy
From page 56 in the paperback.
He grinned. “Am I the best friend, or what?”
I chuckled. “You are. Remind me to get you a mug that confirms that.”
“Another one? Yeah, alright.”
I’m going to be reviewing Guarded and the second book, Bound, next week. I hope you stop back by. This series is such fun.
~~~~~
Read on if you want to know more.
Synopsis
When everyone’s existence depends on the lies they tell, trust doesn’t come easy.
Ivy’s neighbors have a secret. They aren’t human. But Ivy has a secret, too. She knows. As long as everyone keeps quiet, she’s happy working as a P.I. by day and chillaxing with her BFF Florian, a vampire, by night. When a routine pickup drops her in the middle of a murder, her two worlds collide. While Florian knows how to throw a punch, deep down he’s a softie. His idea of scary? Running out of hair product. It’s time Ivy faced facts. Even with a vampire on stand-by, one gal can only kick so many asses.
For help, she must put her faith in others. A human, who might just be the one. A demon, who will, for a price, open the doors to her heritage. And a werewolf, who wants to protect her from herself.
Torn between these men, Ivy must tread carefully, because one wants her heart, one wants her body, and one wants her dead.
Wow. Petra and Sig, her adorable coyote companion, are up against a wolf killing Wendigo. You just never know what they’re going to bump into which each new book.
This is the third book in the series. I’ll do my best not to spoil it for you. Just sayin.
The wolf pack Nine Of Stars goes up against a creature that collects the skins of wolves. It ends badly for one and they’re now being hunted down. A magical being, it’s relentless and darn near unstoppable in its pursuit.
Petra is grappling with some personal issues but that takes a second seat when wolves are being attacked and killed in the park. She’s also having to deal with the new sheriff, an odd duck who’s set his sights on Gabe as the killer. And Gabe has problems of his own. Human ones, to be exact.
It’s going to take everything they have and then some to stop Skinflint Jack. The bitter cold and a huge winter storm add to the struggles for these characters. I like when the elements come in to play. A reckoning is coming, and who survives the battle isn’t certain.
I loved this book. I’ve loved all of the books in this series. Petra is bad to the bone and loves with such intensity. And Sig is, well, Sig. What can I say about the wily coyote. He’s something else.
So much has happened in this series and I wonder what’s coming next. Can’t wait to find out.
5 Stars
~~~~~
About the Book:
Following on the heels of her critically acclaimed prequel novels Dark Alchemy and Mercury Retrograde comes the first installment in Laura Bickle’s dark contemporary fantasy series, Nine of Stars, a Wildlands Novel
Winter has always been a deadly season in Temperance, but this time, there’s more to fear than just the cold…
As the daughter of an alchemist, Petra Dee has faced all manner of occult horrors—especially since her arrival in the small town of Temperance, Wyoming. But she can’t explain the creature now stalking the backcountry of Yellowstone, butchering wolves and leaving only their skins behind in the snow. Rumors surface of the return of Skinflint Jack, a nineteenth-century wraith that kills in fulfillment of an ancient bargain.
The new sheriff in town, Owen Rutherford, isn’t helping matters. He’s a dangerously haunted man on the trail of both an unsolved case and a fresh kill—a bizarre murder leading him right to Petra’s partner Gabriel. And while Gabe once had little to fear from the mortal world, he’s all too human now. This time, when violence hits close to home, there are no magical solutions.
It’s up to Petra and her coyote sidekick Sig to get ahead of both Owen and the unnatural being hunting them all—before the trail turns deathly cold.
He’d run as far as he could, into the summer grass that came up almost to his chest. He fantasized for a brief moment about what it would be like to hide in this grass, to build a fort and live among the cows and the ravens that always seemed to mass over the land in swarms, like flies.
He crouched in the grass, making a nest. No one could see him here. He could be out here forever, and no one would ever find him. This world of sunshine and grass and sky would be far preferable to dealing with Sal’s petulant wrath and the anger of his aunt and uncle, who treated Sal like he was the heir to the universe, a young King Arthur wielding a Popsicle stick.
Maybe he was. Owen remembered peering through the grass walls of his hideout into the valley below, at all the vast land and green and gold. He felt a pang of jealousy, but then he saw it.
Something weird.
A man walked along a beaten-down path in the grass along a barbed-wire fence. He looked odd—like he had no arms. The sleeves of his plaid shirt hung at his sides like wet laundry, and he trudged along, looking up at the sky. Ravens swarmed overhead in a seething mass, cawing.
And then Owen saw them dive toward the man.
Owen gasped and clapped his hand over his mouth. The ravens were about to attack that poor crippled man, were going to tear him apart. He crawled forward out of his nest, terrified but compelled to watch.
The ravens slammed into the man, a dozen of them, one after the other, whacking into his body from the front and back. The man stumbled in the flurry of feathers, turning like a scarecrow in a storm as they assaulted him. But that was the funny thing—they didn’t bounce off with chunks of meat in their beaks. They just . . . disappeared.
The man staggered upright, surrounded by a miasma of dust and a few feathers. With a start, Owen realized that his arms had grown back. They’d grown right down past his sleeves, with pale hands that opened and closed.
Owen squeaked.
As if he heard him, the man in the field turned toward Owen with a black and distant gaze.
Owen scuttled backward in the grass, clawing through the stems, and scrambled to his feet. Keeping his head down, he ran as fast as he could back toward the house. His aunt and uncle’s punishment were nothing compared to . . . to that. Whatever that was.
About Author Laura Bickle
Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio, reading entirely too many comic books out loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll. After graduating with an MA in Sociology-Criminology from Ohio State University and an MLIS in Library Science from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, she patrolled the stacks at the public library and worked with data systems in criminal justice. She now dreams up stories about the monsters under the stairs. Her work has been included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016.
More information about Laura’s work can be found here
No matter which holiday you observe at year’s end, they all share something in common: traditions.
I grew up in the four seasons of northeast Pennsylvania, where Decembers were snowy and cheer-filled. We wore skiddoos and went sleigh-riding and came in the door pink-nose and snow-crusted.
On Thanksgiving night, the borough would light the holiday street decorations for the first time. We’d sit at the front windows, cheeks against the glass, straining to see down the block to the main street, waiting for the moment the bells and candy canes would light up.
Those lights meant one thing: Christmas was almost here!
Some of my fondest memories are from our family Christmases, which were brimming full of special traditions.
Many of them came from my Polish grandparents, involving the crèche and the special Christmas Eve dinner. I think that I will forever see Christmas through the lens of my dad’s old 8mm camera, sounds of laughter and singing replaced by the whir of the projection reels and the occasional comment about our early-seventies fashion sense.
Holidays have always held sentimental value, a sense of community and family and simple togetherness—not just for my Pennsylvania family in the plaid-stricken seventies, but for so many people and places, across the span of centuries.
In my voracious research of the Victorian era (while writing my historical fantasy THE HEARTBEAT THIEF), I encountered an entirely new world of Yuletide traditions.
Some are still widely celebrated (thanks to Doctor Who Christmas specials, my kids adopted a love for crackers) while some have largely fallen out of practice (such as a parlour game called Snapdragon, which seems like a good way to get a burned finger! Talk about dangerous drinking games…)
One Victorian tradition that has always appealed to me is Wassail. A verb, to wassail means to go singing door to door, after which one is invited to drink punch from the family’s Wassail bowl.
A noun, wassail is the punch itself—and every family had their own recipe (kind of like Boilo recipes here in northeast PA). The punch was served in a wassailing bowl. A greeting, “wassail” was a wish for good health to those we cherish.
Everyone would drink the hot spiced cider together, fostering a lovely sense of community and togetherness, which is the truest spirit of the holidays.
Since immersing myself in the culture and traditions of THE HEARTBEAT THIEF, I wanted to find a recipe for my own family and promptly found about six million different versions (thanks, Google).
They all seem to have a few elements in common, though: apples, spices, and warmth. Some contain ale or wine while others are more kid-friendly; some involve baking whole apples and placing them in the punch bowl; some even contain a whipped egg mixture (like this one from Alton Brown. Considering he is the Einstein of food, I would NEVER refute his wisdom.)
I like this one the best, though—the tanginess of orange juice and the lemony zing of fresh ginger make my mouth water just thinking of it.
Plus, the convenience of a slow cooker is a must with my crazy schedule…not to mention that it’s like potpourri you can drink while warming your hands! All wonderful things, especially when the weather turns chilly and grown-ups are stuck in the house, too old to go sleigh-riding or playing outside in the snow.
• 1 1/2 inch piece of fresh ginger, cut into slices
• 1 apple, sliced into rounds
• 1 orange, sliced into rounds Directions:
1. Place all the ingredients in a slow cooker and cover.
2. Turn the slow cooker on high heat and cook for 3-4 hours, until the color has darkened and the fruit is soft.
Remove the tea bags and serve hot.
Maybe when my kids are older, I’ll adjust the recipe to a more adult version. For now, I’d like to make something the whole family can enjoy. It’s tradition, after all, and where’s the fun in a tradition that excludes some of us?
Happy holidays, everyone. Be sure to raise a glass to your loved ones!
My Victorian fantasy THE HEARTBEAT THIEF follows the journey of the Forever Girl, Senza Fyne. Terrified of death, of growing old, of being forced into an arranged marriage, she makes a deal with the mysterious Mr. Knell and learns the secret of eternal youth and beauty…
I can picture Senza at a Christmas ball, in high London society, her hair upswept in a pile of curls the color of winter fire, her forever 18-year old figure trimmed out in a luscious gown of emerald silk and taffeta.
She’d be the girl with whom every gentleman must dance, the one with whom everyone sought introduction. If you were lucky enough to speak with her, she might treat you a glimpse of her wit and wisdom, far beyond her years…to the sound of her charming laugh…and perhaps she’d touch your hand in a personal gesture.
One touch, and your heart might skip a beat. An entire dance and you just may be left reeling, your senses spinning. Senza Fyne tends to have that effect on a person…
Soon it would be time to gather around the wassail bowl, the spicy sweet scents of apple warming the air, reminding us all of the bounty of harvest and fortune, the cheer of friends gathered for Yuletide.
You might be tempted to raise a glass to her in particular…but your wish for good health would be better spent on someone else. Senza Fyne had no need for wishes, not when her immortal youth, beauty, and perfection were secured by the strongest of magicks.
But you wouldn’t know that because it’s a secret she’d never tell. If she did, the heartbeat thief would be caught.
.
Seek out THE HEARTBEAT THIEF
Haunted by a crushing fear of death, a young Victorian woman discovers the secret of eternal youth—she must surrender her life to attain it, and steal heartbeats to keep it.
In 1860 Surrey, a young woman has only one occupation: to marry. Senza Fyne is beautiful, intelligent, and lacks neither wealth nor connections. Finding a husband shouldn’t be difficult, not when she has her entire life before her. But it’s not life that preoccupies her thoughts. It’s death—and that shadowy spectre haunts her every step.
So does Mr. Knell. Heart-thumpingly attractive, obviously eligible—he’d be her perfect match if only he wasn’t so macabre. All his talk about death, all that teasing about knowing how to avoid it…
When her mother arranges a courtship with another man, Senza is desperate for escape from a dull prescripted destiny. Impulsively, she takes Knell up on his offer. He casts a spell that frees her from the cruelty of time and the threat of death—but at a steep price. In order to maintain eternal youth, she must feed on the heartbeats of others.
It’s a little bit Jane Austen, a little bit Edgar Allan Poe, and a whole lot of stealing heartbeats in order to stay young and beautiful forever. From the posh London season to the back alleys of Whitechapel, across the Channel, across the Pond, across the seas of Time…
AJ (Ash) Krafton writes because
if she doesn’t, her kids will…and NOBODY wants that. A speculative fiction girl
through and through, Ash writes paranormal romance and urban fantasy novels as
well as poetry and short fiction. Her work has won a bunch of awards and was
even nominated for a Pushcart Prize. When she’s not writing, she’s practicing
Tai Chi, listening to loud rock and metal, or crushing on supervillains.
Most recently, she’s re-released
her urban fantasy trilogy THE BOOKS OF THE DEMIMONDE because she never really
left the world of Sophie and her Demivamps.
Author Kimberley Griffiths Little
Blast Giveaway
