Posts Tagged ‘YA’

Spies Like Me By Doug Solter ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: April 20, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller, YA
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Spies Like Me

by Doug Solter

 

(The Gems, #1)
Publication date: October 4th 2016
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

They offered Emma revenge…

When she discovers her father’s plane crash wasn’t an accident, sixteen-year-old Emma wants to punish those responsible. Even if it means becoming a spy for a mysterious organization known as The Authority. They want Emma to join the Gems…four teenage girls with unique skills…who know how to handle dangerous spy missions around the world…like storming a mountain stronghold to stop terrorists from incinerating the world’s food supply.

The Authority thinks Emma is the missing link to make this team work.

Emma thinks The Authority is her only chance for revenge.

Spies Like Me is the first novel in The Gems Young Adult spy thriller series, although all books in the Gems world can be read as standalone adventures. This is a fast-paced action story with diverse characters, cool spy gadgets, girl-power bonding, deep family secrets, ruthless villains, twists and turns, and a romance with a complex boy to figure out.

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Only 99c for a limited time!

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The school’s auditorium stage was bathed in colors. White for the actors. Orange for the wooden set representing the faraway pyramids of Egypt. Blue to emphasize the painted sky backdrop above it all. It was the opening night performance of The Spy Who Loathed Me.

Emma Rothchild strutted across the stage in a gorgeous floor-length silk dress, her costume for this scene. Tonight, she craved the eyes of the audience and knew this dress guaranteed their full attention.

Emma was deep into character. She was Russian spy Olga Tetrovich. Emma had studied online videos of Russians speaking candidly and mimicked their accents as best she could. Her drama teacher had complimented Emma on her dedication to the craft.

The MI6 spy George Bond followed Olga on stage, but hid behind a fake tree. The actor’s rich brown skin might be a shock to the 007 spy traditionalists in the audience, but Emma hoped that his performance would win them over. Bond was following her in this scene, thinking she would lead the English spy straight to the microfilm that was stolen from him by a Brazilian dwarf named Tatu.

From a souvenir stand, Emma picked up a clay model of the pyramids, something a tourist would buy at a market. She smashed the stage prop against the table in dramatic fashion and held up the roll of microfilm hidden inside so the audience could see it.

George Bond made his move. He crept up behind Emma without detection while she slipped the microfilm into her small hand purse. Emma’s hand came out holding a cap-gun revolver. She pivoted on her heels, making her dress swoosh around her ankles, and aimed the gun at Bond. The move looked great in rehearsals.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Bond,” Emma said, with her gentle Russian accent. “Our brief partnership is at an end. I have what my government wants. Now I will take my revenge. Do you remember that man you killed in Vienna?”

“Yes, I do,” George Bond said.

“He was my lover.”

Emma waited for Bond’s next line.

But the actor hesitated.

Emma was about to lose it. Did Lewis forget again? They’d rehearsed this scene, like, twenty times.

“What do you have to say about that, Mr. Bond?”

The line was an ad-lib, something to draw the next line out of the boy’s mouth.

Lewis’s face was a river of sweat as his eyes glazed over, the actor turning himself into just another tree on stage.

“Your silence is a good enough confession for me. Any last words before I fire?” Emma went off script, but Lewis could pick his line up there. She was trying to help him.

But the boy shook his head. Lewis wasn’t taking the hint.

Emma pulled the trigger and the gun hammer snapped forward. She squeezed the trigger numerous times in a series of loud snaps. Emma dropped the weapon. “You planted that empty gun in my handbag, didn’t you?”

Lewis nodded. Okay, he’d reacted to that ad-lib.

It was a sliver of hope, so Emma went with it. “Then I’ll have to kill you with my bare hands.” Emma approached Lewis with her arms raised in a karate-looking stance. The boy blinked, still trapped inside his scary place. What could Emma do now? Physically attack him? Bond was supposed to seduce the Russian agent, not have her attack him.

Then a breath of inspiration hit her.

Emma grabbed Lewis’s shoulders. She guided him over to a bench on the set and made him lie down. Emma plopped her body on top of Lewis and pretended to struggle with him. Emma whispered into his ear, “Now get up and glare at me, Lewis.”

His eyes blinked again. Lewis rolled out from under her and stood on stage. Emma pressed her back against the seat of the bench and stayed there while Lewis glared.

Emma labored her breathing, as if she were being seduced. “Oh, why can I not kill you, Mr. Bond? What power do you hold over me?”

Lewis didn’t move, his glare frozen on his petrified face.

Emma knew this would work better if Lewis helped sell it, but…she lifted herself from the bench like a graceful ballerina, trying to act seduced by Bond’s man-powers. “Why can I not kill you, Mr. Bond?” she repeated.

Emma went for his lips, kissing Lewis with passion, as if the male spy had successfully messed with her brain. As Emma eased her lips away from his…life came back into Lewis’s eyes. He gripped Emma and pulled her towards him and they kissed again.

Finally, the boy was acting.

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About Author Doug Solter:

Doug Solter has worked behind the scenes in television for over twenty-five years. He began writing screenplays, then made the switch to young adult fiction. Doug respects cats, loves the mountains, and one time walked the streets of Barcelona with a smile. Doug is a member of SCBWI, IBPA, and Pennwriters.

If you would like to know when his next book will come out, please follow him on Amazon or visit his website at dougsolter.com and sign up to receive emails about new releases and special giveaways.

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Shadowed Skies By Haley Cavanagh ~ Guest Post And Giveaway

Posted: April 14, 2025 in Dystopian, giveaways, Guest Post, YA Fantasy
Tags: , , , ,
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His mountain solitude shattered.

Her lab prison escaped.

Together they’ll find refuge or die trying.

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Shadowed Skies

by Haley Cavanagh

Genre: YA Clean Dystopian SciFi Fantasy Romance

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Hunted for their blood. Fighting for their future.

River

He’s the last of his kind, a winged warrior
hidden in the mountains. River Shaw has lost everything: his sanctuary, the
only shield from a world that fears and hunts him. When Delene, another of his
kind, crash-lands into his life, wounded and on the run, his solitude is
shattered.

Delene

She’s a fugitive
with a secret, escaping the clutches of dark forces that took everything from
her. Delene Fairborne’s flight to freedom leads her to River and the spark of a
bond neither can deny.

In a landscape
scarred by betrayal and danger, River and Delene must navigate their growing
feelings and the sinister scientist who will stop at nothing to harness their
power. Shadowed Skies is where love takes wing, hope soars, and destiny
entwines. Dive into a world where every heartbeat is a rebellion, every glance
a promise, and every flight a taste of freedom.

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I wake to a muscular, silent figure looming over me, his wings
casting unnerving shadows. Intelligent dark eyes scrutinize
me from his smooth, brown face framed by cropped black hair
and raven quills. He’s been around the block.
My guard shoots up. I’d stand, but my body’s too weak from
the climb. “Your nest, huh? Sorry, I didn’t see your name on it.”
“It’s carved right over there.” He points past me to the
rockface. My eyes travel over the stone, where he’d etched River
in craggy letters. The carved name is so tiny I didn’t notice.
“Now you’re supposed to tell me your name. That’s how this
goes.”
I blink. “Delene Fairborne. Listen, would you mind if I––
ow,” I scrape against the wall and suck air through my teeth. I
clamp my eyes shut.
“Are you okay?”
I shrug the blanket off, and my injured wing flops lamely
near my shoulder. River’s eyebrows lower, and he comes closer.
“Let me look.”
He stows his serrated hunting knife, presents empty hands,
and crouches to examine my injury. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.
Let’s see the damage.” He’s gentle, avoiding the wound and
handling my feathers softly. He lightly touches the bandage.
“Dr. Lytle runs the Stockade, the underground bunker and
lab where the humans imprison and experiment on our kind.
His men hunted me down and shot me with a crossbow as I tried
to escape. The wound is still healing––I changed the bandage
earlier, but without a spare set of clothes, I had to tear strips off
my pants to re-dress it.”

“Hmm.” He examines the back with a frown. “There’s an
exit wound.”
“Yeah, I pulled it out.”
“Well, that was stupid of you. You could have died if those
goons pierced a blood feather.”
My temper flares. “Oh, as opposed to leaving it in. I’d rather
take my chances, thanks.” My voice is hostile, though I’m
grateful for his help. I still don’t know who he is or what he
wants, and my mother warned me to be on my guard.
River sits back on his haunches, sighs, and meets my eyes.
“Doesn’t look good. How long have you been here, kid? A day
or so?”
“I’m no kid. I’m seventeen.”
“Well, I’m eighteen. So, you’re a kid.”
“By what, a few whole months?” I snicker. “Okay. If a kid
free-climbed in the pitch-black up a hundred-foot cliff to get
here, I guess I’m a kid.”
After examining the wound, he says, “The damage looks
fixable. Let’s clean this well to prevent infection.”
“I’ve cleaned the wound.”
“Clean deeper,” he admonishes. “I don’t have antibiotics, but
I’ll try to get some. Or at least honey. Honey heals.”
He hesitates before retrieving water, then takes a rag from
his pouch and soaks the cloth. With the knife still in hand, he
comes closer.
“Look … You seem all right, but I’m a lone wolf. I operate
solo. You have a target with a big ‘X’ on your back. I feel bad for
you. I do. But you know how it is with our kind.” He gives me
a blatant look, so here’s your cue to leave.
“Gee, I’d kindly vacate the premises, but I can’t fly.”
He rubs the back of his neck, agitated. “The valley’s full of
drones. And they’ve got at least a dozen soldiers combing the
forest.”

“I’m sorry.” I shift my eyes down. “You never asked for any
of this.”
“None of us did,” he waves me off. “The soldiers are here.
I’m screwed either way.” He pauses and assesses me. “Stay the
night. Then after that, I’m sorry, but you need to find somewhere
else to hide.”
The night might be all I need. “Thank you.”

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Behind the Scenes: The Inspiration for Shadowed Skies

Every story has an origin, and Shadowed Skies was no exception. This novel was born out of a mix of inspiration, personal experience, and a love for dystopian adventure with a touch of the fantastical. Today, I’m taking you behind the scenes to explore how this story came to life—from its first spark of an idea to the fully realized world of the Evol-humans.

  • The Spark of an Idea

The first whispers of Shadowed Skies emerged during NaNoWriMo 2019. At the time, life was a whirlwind of responsibilities, and most of my writing sessions took place in the carpool lane while waiting for my kids. It was during those stolen moments that River and Delene’s world began to take shape. I wanted to write a story that blended high-stakes survival with the emotional depth of identity, freedom, and resistance.

  • Wings, Science, and the Ethics of Experimentation

I’ve always been fascinated by the intersection of science and ethics, particularly the unintended consequences of genetic experimentation. What if human beings were engineered for a purpose—only to be discarded when that purpose no longer suited their creators? This question became the foundation of Shadowed Skies and the plight of the Evol-humans. Designed as super-soldiers with avian DNA, they were meant to be resilient, capable of thriving in extreme environments. But as history often repeats, humanity fears what it does not understand. The same people who created the Evol-humans turned on them, leading to their persecution, imprisonment, and fight for survival.

  • A World Shaped by Dystopian Influences

I’ve always been drawn to dystopian fiction, from classics like 1984 and Brave New World to modern YA series like The Hunger Games and The Darkest Minds. These stories highlight resilience in the face of oppression, a theme that resonated deeply with me. However, I wanted to add a unique twist—rather than a purely tech-driven future, Shadowed Skies introduces an evolutionary shift, where biology itself becomes both a weapon and a weakness.

  • Survival in the Wild

Much of Shadowed Skies is set in rugged, mountainous landscapes, inspired by the breathtaking wilderness of Utah. I wanted to capture the raw beauty and danger of the wild—how nature can be both a sanctuary and a merciless force. River, one of the main characters, has learned to live off the land, a skill that not only defines his character but also plays a crucial role in the survival of those like him.

  • Characters with Heart and Struggle

At its core, this story is about two people who refuse to be caged—literally and figuratively. River, haunted by loss and determined to stay hidden, must confront his past and decide if he will fight for more than just his own survival. Delene, who has suffered unimaginable losses, refuses to let fear break her spirit. Their journey is one of trust, resilience, and ultimately, hope.

  • The Journey from Draft to Publication

Like any novel, Shadowed Skies went through multiple drafts, revisions, and deep dives into worldbuilding. Thanks to an incredible editorial team and supportive readers, the story transformed into what it is today—a thrilling blend of action, suspense, and heart.

  • Final Thoughts

Writing Shadowed Skies was an adventure, one that challenged me in ways I never expected. I hope readers find themselves lost in this world, rooting for River and Delene as they navigate a future shaped by both humanity’s cruelty and its potential for redemption.

Thank you for joining me on this behind-the-scenes look at Shadowed Skies! I’d love to hear from you—what are your favorite dystopian worlds, and what elements make them unforgettable to you?

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Haley Cavanagh is
a military veteran, wife, and mother. She was awarded the League of Utah
Writers 2020 Silver Quill Award for Retaliation, the second novel in her
Oceanstone Initiative series. Haley is an alumna of Columbia College, a musical
theater nut, and she loves to dive into any book that crosses her path. Haley
resides with her family in the United States and enjoys spending time with her
husband and children when she’s not writing. She loves to hear from her readers
and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.

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Beyond The Realms: A Limited Addition Collection ~ Spotlight And Giveaway

Posted: April 13, 2025 in Anthology, giveaways, YA Fantasy
Tags: , , ,
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A Limited Edition Collection of YA Epic Fantasy Authors on
PreOrder for 99 Pennies!

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Beyond the Realms

A Young Adult Epic Fantasy Anthology

with stories by

K.M. Jenkins, Christina Wallace, Joli Campbell, Megan
Charlie, R.E. Joyce

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In lands far beyond our world heroes step forward to take on
epic journeys into the unknown. They must face the thrill of adventure, love,
and magic to find themselves as they go. But when fate plays with their
destiny, they find they are on a path they never saw coming. From SwordMasters
to Fae creatures you will find a mix of fantasy creatures that will keep you
reading until the very end. Grab this limited-edition box set before time runs
out.

Written by authors of Fantasy Romance and Epic Quests, this boxset is sure to
take you on an epic journey. Featuring tales by Christina Wallace, debut author
Joli Campbell, International Bestselling author K.M. Jenkins, Megan Charlie,
and R.E. Joyce fill these pages.

Twisting tales of battle, magic, intrigue, love, and tragedy. Perfect for those
looking for light romance with epic adventures to enjoy.

Genres: Young Adult, Epic
Fantasy, Swords and Sorcery, and Fantasy Romance

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, One
Bed, She saves herself, Strong female lead, Fae, Task-based quest/epic journey,
No spice second chance romance, Epic quest, Magical test, Facing ones fears,
Hero’s journey, The mentor, and Love triangle turned inside out.

**Only .99 cents!!**

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* Goodreads

 

The Swordmaster
Brothers

by K.M. Jenkins

EVERY YEAR SWORDMASTERS ARE CHOSEN. But first they have to
be tested. Together, Rikkin and Roulle must endure the trials that will reveal
their greatest strengths and weaknesses and possibly lead to their deaths. Can
two brothers survive the challenge of the GrandMaster to become the next
generation of SwordMasters? Only through overcoming their greatest fears can
they change their destinies forever.

K.M. Jenkins is a published international bestselling author that
writes epic battles, forbidden romance, and tales of fantasy and adventure. She
has a big love for the fantasy genre and loves dragons above all creatures.

When she is not writing, you will find her chasing her twin boys around
the house. Between the three she has epic battles throughout the day and
nothing ever gets boring.

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* Goodreads

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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ Forever We Dream By Mark Workman

Posted: March 19, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, YA
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Forever We Dream

by Mark Workman

 

Publication date: March 19th 2025
Genres: Coming of Age, Young Adult

Three voices, one dream, and a chance to uncover the truth.

It’s 1978, and the glittering disco craze is sweeping across America. Identical conjoined triplets Elliana, Bellamona, and Gabriella have one shared dream: finding their mother, who vanished without a trace years ago. Singing is their only solace, and now they have a chance to take that passion to the national stage.

When they’re invited to compete in Your Shooting Star, a famous music competition, the teenage sisters see it as their chance to reunite with the woman they can’t remember but long to know. But stepping into the spotlight means facing their greatest fears. As the underdogs fight to stay in the contest, they must brave ruthless rival Twyla-Violet, a former child model determined to claim the coveted title at any cost.

While the four-round competition heats up, secrets, lies, and conspiracies threaten to tear their world apart. Can the triplets stand strong and use the power of television to reconnect with their past? Or will their dream shatter under the pressure of fame?

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Carla gawked at the triplets, shocked by their wrecked makeup. “What have you done?”

Katherine stepped over to them. “Carla, I’ll take care of the girls.” She took in their disturbed faces. “Did Twyla-Violet do something to you again?”

Mona sniffed back her tears. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Sixty seconds,” Carla announced behind them.

Katherine pulled the girls around her. “Don’t let that bully beat you. There’s no time to fix your makeup. You must turn this crisis into a tactical advantage. I want you to think of the one thing you want more than anything else and imagine how you’d feel if you couldn’t have it.”

Papilio stared up at her, six amber irises adrift in the pain-stained red sclera of their eyes.

“That’s how we feel now,” Mona muttered as another black tear dripped from her chin and soiled more of their white blouse.

“So put those painful emotions into every word you sing and note you play. Understand, Papilio?”

Appearing almost catatonic, the triplets nodded slowly.

Carla pointed at the stage. “Ten seconds!”

Gently, Katherine brushed a black tear from Mona’s soft jawline with the back of her fingers. “And don’t forget to sing the lyrics from a girl’s perspective. Make them personal.” She stepped back and gestured for Papilio to go.

“Thanks for everything,” Mona said as if it would be the last time they ever saw the coach they had come to admire.

An aching feeling in the pit of Mona’s stomach told her something awful was about to happen. She sensed the judges sharpening their axes, anticipating the metallic taste of blood, ready to exact their punishment on Papilio for being naive enough to think three homely zeros were good enough to become America’s Teen Shooting Star. Their wacko mother didn’t even want them—why would anyone else?

As the dimmed lights increased in intensity, Papilio joined hands, put their right feet forward, and marched onstage while being careful not to trip in their tall platform heels. Halfway there, Gabby lost her concentration. Her ankle twisted sideways, and she nearly fell before Mona, anchored by Ellie, pulled Gabby’s arm and helped her recover, preventing an embarrassing human avalanche.

Despite the triplets’ messy state, the crowd behind Twyla-Violet’s cheering section applauded loudly. The Empress fan club, still decked out in violet band T-shirts, filled the front row as if they were permanently cemented to the seats. Their jaws dropped when they saw Papilio’s sloppy makeup and ruined costume. The hecklers were so shocked by their disheveled appearance, they forgot to snicker.

Papilio’s die-hard fan from their school’s math club stood in the middle of the row behind the jeerers. She held a sign that read Go Papilio! Her metal braces glinted as she jumped up and down, black pigtails bouncing, cheering for the band. Two other calculators with her screamed even louder.

Papiliomania was becoming contagious.

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About Author Mark Workman:

Mark Workman toured the world as a road manager and lighting designer with many famous rock bands for 33 years. After leaving the music business in 2015, he worked at a major drug and alcohol treatment center in Malibu, California, for four years, where he earned his certification as a drug and alcohol counselor. Mark now spends his time reading, writing, and traveling. He grew up in Petersburg, Virginia, has lived in Greater Los Angeles for most of his adult life, and currently resides in the Las Vegas area. His estrangement from his late father since the age of six, along with his love for the music of the Bee Gees and 70s nostalgia, greatly inspired his debut novel, Forever We Dream.

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Sam Squared By Cindy Dorminy ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: March 17, 2025 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways, YA
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Sam Squared

by Cindy Dorminy

 

Publication date: March 17th 2025
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Falling in love should be easy as Pi.

Seventeen-year-old Samantha Baughman has one month to raise her GPA, or she can kiss her coveted Auburn basketball scholarship goodbye. Her only hope lies with her high school’s resident bad boy—and closet genius—Samuel King.

The last thing Samuel wants is to get tangled in anyone else’s problems. But when he gets caught helping another student cheat, his teacher offers him a get-out-of-jail-free card. With a one-way ticket to boarding school as his only other option, Samuel reluctantly agrees to tutor Samantha… with one stipulation. They have to keep their arrangement on the down-low. No one can know about their study sessions, especially Samantha’s overprotective brother, who has already warned Samuel to stay away from his sister.

As the “Sams” spend more time together, their playful banter turns into genuine attraction, including one extra-credit-worthy kiss. But Samantha’s brother’s threats send Samuel backpedaling so fast that he denies their encounter ever happened. Now, it’s game on for Samantha to get him to confess. She may need his help to pass her classes, but he’s the one who needs schooling in matters of the heart.

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Samantha

I take out my cell phone and send a quick text before class starts.

Me: Hey, Mule. Need your opinion. In private, please.

His chuckle resonates through the classroom, signaling to me he got my message. My phone vibrates with an incoming text.

Mule: Is this about sec?

Not sure what he means. Auburn is an SEC team, but there is no reason he would ask about that. I suck in a breath. Maybe he means sex. Heat rushes up my neck as I text back.

Me: NO!! Will you meet me at the Green Hills Library after school?

Mule: What’s it worth to you?

Pondering my reply, I take a peek around to see him mouth, Well? He is infuriating, and I can’t believe I’m going through with this.

Me: I won’t tell anyone you cried when Nemo’s mom died.

Mule: You wouldn’t.

While I relive that moment, I bite my lip to keep from laughing. He was a blubbering idiot throughout that entire movie after the first scene. It’s my word against his, but he knows it’s all true.

Me: Try me.

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About Author Cindy Dorminy:

Cindy Dorminy writes about love when it’s least expected. Quirky dialogue and sassy, southern heroines are a must in her romances. When she’s not in her she-shed working on her next novel, she enjoys walking her dog, gardening, and weightlifting. She shares her house with her musician husband, an awesome daughter, and a miniature dachshund who would eat all the food if he could figure out how to open the refrigerator. She resides in Nashville, TN, where live music can be heard everywhere, even at the grocery store.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Dragons, Mermaids, Elves…. And Kitsune? By J.A. Culican ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: March 14, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, YA Fantasy
Tags: , ,
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What if the key to saving the world lies in the one creature
everyone learned to fear?

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Dragons, Mermaids, Elves… and Kitsune?

Keeper of Dragons: Aprella Academy Book 1

by J.A. Culican

Genre: YA Fantasy, Ranobe

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What if the key to
saving the world lies in the one creature everyone learned to fear?

Rhyden was supposed to stay hidden in Ochana, the floating
realm of dragons—isolated ever since Prince Jago’s mysterious death. But with
an unshakable sense of duty, he defies his people’s decree and enrolls at
Aprella Academy, a legendary school where mermaids, elves, fairies, and kitsune
shape the world’s magic.

Arriving as the first dragon on campus in a century, Rhyden
becomes an instant sensation—and not everyone is thrilled about it. Whispers
circulate that the wards protecting the academy are failing. A priceless
artifact has been stolen, dark forces lurk in hidden corridors, and rumors
blame the sudden “dragon presence” for the danger creeping past the gates.

Teaming up with a ragtag circle of new friends—Kairo the
mermaid warrior torn between land and sea, Fenrick the kitsune trickster hiding
unexpected insecurities, Talyssa the elf struggling to atone for her people’s
past, and Lirien the quiet fairy sensing a looming evil—Rhyden races to unmask
the culprit. Yet ominous illusions and shocking betrayals await at every turn,
threatening to shatter the fragile trust he’s begun to build.

When Rhyden’s draconic power finally awakens, it’s as
explosive as the secrets that forced dragons into hiding long ago. Determined
to reclaim the dragon legacy and protect a world that once shunned his kind, he
soon learns that defeating hidden enemies may require forging alliances beyond
imagination—and confronting a darkness older than the academy itself.

Dive into a ranobe-inspired tale of epic magic, unlikely
friendships, and one dragon shifter trying to light the path forward in a realm
built on shadows. Will Rhyden spark a new era for dragons—or remind the world
why they vanished in the first place?

Perfect for fans of
magical academies, secret conspiracies, and unstoppable teamwork, Keeper
of Dragons: Aprella Academy is your next addictive fantasy read.

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* Goodreads

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Flames crackled around my hands as I let the fire within surge free. My skin prickled—scales rippling in a rush of raw power—and I felt wings tear from my back. Even the masked intruder froze for a heartbeat.
“Dragons vanished for a reason,” the figure hissed, voice warped by dark magic.
I exhaled, heat fueling every breath. “Not anymore.”

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J.A. Culican is a USA Today Bestselling author of the middle
grade fantasy series Keeper of Dragons. Her first novel in the fictional series
catapulted a trajectory of titles and awards, including top selling author on
the USA Today bestsellers list and Amazon, and a rightfully earned spot as an
international best seller. Additional accolades include Best Fantasy Book of
2016, Runner-up in Reality Bites Book Awards, and 1st place for Best Coming of
Age Book from the Indie book Awards.

J.A. Culican holds a Master’s degree in Special Education
from Niagara University, in which she has been teaching special education for
over 13 years. She is also the president of the autism awareness non-profit
Puzzle Peace United. J.A. Culican resides in Southern New Jersey with her
husband and four young children.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon
* Goodreads

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Beyond The Cemetery Gate By Valerie Biel ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: March 9, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, Mystery, suspense, YA
Tags: , , ,
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Beyond The Cemetery Gate by Valerie Biel

BEYOND THE CEMETERY GATE
The Secret Keeper’s Daughter
by Valerie Biel
March 3 – 28, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

When the police rule her dad’s death an accidental overdose, 16-year-old Chloe refuses to believe it and vows to find his killer. Alone against a potentially corrupt, small-town police force, a persistent social worker seeking proof that she has adult supervision, and precariously low funds, Chloe learns that her dad’s life as a cemetery caretaker masked a web of family secrets that quite possibly led to his death—and are now putting her in mortal danger. Needing freedom to investigate, Chloe pretends that her only surviving relative, a famous war correspondent, has returned from an overseas assignment to be her guardian. But living alone in the caretaker’s house in the middle of the cemetery, mere feet from the crime scene, puts Chloe’s nerves on edge even before she unearths clues about the shadowy side of her small town. Help comes from unlikely and surprising allies: the colorful owner of the local retro diner, the quiet new classmate with his near-perfect memory, and a spirit who visits in her moments of greatest need.

But as Chloe gets closer to the truth, someone else is getting closer to Chloe, watching her every move. And when her aunt turns up on international news reporting from a war zone, Chloe’s cover is blown. Now the race is on to reveal her dad’s killer—but perhaps—Chloe isn’t as alone as she thought.

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Praise for Beyond the Cemetery Gate: The Secret Keeper’s Daughter:

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Recently voted Notable 100 Best Indie Book of 2024 (from Shelf Unbound) and a Semi-Finalist for the CIBA YA Fiction Book Award (Chanticleer International Book Awards)

“A stand-out mystery…offering readers an unforgettable journey.” ★★★★★ 5-Stars ~ Readers’ Favorite

“This taut, suspenseful mystery goes beyond the cemetery gate and settles, creaking, into our very bones.” ~ Silvia Acevedo, author of the award-winning God Awful series

“A gripping mystery that succeeds due to a headstrong protagonist who’s unwilling to fail.” ~ Kirkus Reviews

“… a must-read and recommended for fans of mysteries looking for a gripping and compelling story.” ~ 5-Stars – Reader Views Kids

“A haunting YA mystery. Touching on everything from police ineptitude and community solidarity to the endless frustration of being patronized as a young person, this paranormal thriller confidently combines timely and relatable themes within a page-turning storyline.” ~ Self-Publishing Review

“Not all secrets are buried in the grave. Beyond the Cemetery Gate is a nonstop read through a dark, twisting plot and the dangerous world of shadows and sinister people that 16-year-old Chloe must outrun and outsmart.” ~ Patricia Skalka, Author of the Dave Cubiak Door County Mysteries

Book Details:

Genre: Young Adult Mystery Suspense

Published by: Lost Lake Press Publication Date: October 31, 2024 Number of Pages: 342 ISBN: 9780998173641 (ISBN10: 0998173649)

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Chapter 1
CHLOE

In the space between sleep and wakefulness, a sound seeped into my consciousness. The sense that something wasn’t quite right pulled me fully awake. I listened beyond my own breathing for it to come again.

A wail pierced the silence. An animal in pain? Only it wasn’t. I knew it was human. I slipped from bed to stare out into the cemetery. The tombstones always made for fascinating or eerie shadows, depending on how you felt about graveyards. I never minded, which was a good thing, considering my house was smack dab in the middle of one.

The sound came again, more of a moan this time, followed by a murmur of voices. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but people were definitely in the cemetery. One of them was scared or maybe hurt. Dad wasn’t going to like this. He locked the gate tight every night. The only way in was to scale the tall, spiked iron fence or pick the lock. Either one was going to piss him off.

In the distance, a pinpoint of light moved away from where I perched. It was too small to be a flashlight . . . maybe a cell phone? I padded down the hall to Dad’s bedroom, calling for him. His door was ajar, and the hall light was enough to show his empty bed, the covers rumpled and thrown back as though he’d gotten up quickly. He must have heard the same thing. His boots weren’t in their usual spot by the back door, so I knew for sure he’d gone to investigate. I had to help because Dad and I were a team, small and mighty, he said. We always made it through everything together. In my hurry I forgot to stop the screen door from slamming behind me when I stepped out onto the porch, cringing when the sound echoed through the night. I waited a moment and then whispered, “Dad,” as loudly as I dared. No answer. I angled toward the part of the cemetery where the small light had been, thinking I’d find him corralling some kids from high school pulling a prank. It happened once in a while but usually in a few weeks—closer to Halloween. I knew more than a handful of idiots my age who would think this was funny. I hadn’t heard the wailing or voices since I left the house. Maybe whoever it was had left? That hopeful thought disappeared as a weird combination of worry and fear crawled up the base of my spine. Just in case it was something more menacing than kids, I hid my approach behind the cemetery’s largest and oldest tombstones. Maxwell, Bell, Ludington . . . I touched their cold granite and the mossy green lichen growing up their sides as I slid between them. I expected to find Dad by now. Where was he? A terrible thought pushed me into full fear mode. What if the person making that horrible scream was Dad? It hadn’t sounded like him, but … what if he was out here somewhere and hurt? I had to find him! My breath quickened and a damp sheen of sweat prickled my skin. I sped up, more concerned with finding him than being seen. The cemetery was big, but I had to be close to where I’d spotted the light. I calmed myself long enough to pivot in a slow circle, my bare feet sliding on the dewy grass. The main gate was open, obviously where the trespassers came in—and hopefully where they’d gone out. It was quiet and dark. The cemetery had no lights of its own, and the glow of streetlights reached only to the second row of graves. Here and there, solar decorations shimmered for dead loved ones as cheerfully as possible but didn’t shine far enough to be helpful. The darkness didn’t hinder me. The cemetery had been my playground since preschool, so even in the dark I was able to avoid every tree root, odd stone, or divot that might trip me up. I decided to be systematic and jogged a grid pattern, snaking through the rows. I stopped short and gasped at the next turn. A body was slumped against the base of my favorite statue, a white marble angel holding a sword and shield. “Dad!” He didn’t move. In two quick strides, I was at his side. “Dad!” I gave his shoulder a gentle shake, and his head tipped sideways. “Oh my god! Wake up!” I needed a better look and found the light on my phone. What I saw scared me even more. Dad’s face was pale, his eyes unfocused. I needed help—fast! Dialing 911 seemed impossibly slow for three simple numbers. “911. What’s your emergency?” “It’s – it’s my dad. He won’t wake up.” “What’s your location?” “I’m in the city cemetery. My dad is the caretaker here.” “What’s your name?” “C-Chloe Cowyn.” “Okay, Chloe, can you check whether your dad’s breathing?” I bent low and placed my face close to Dad’s mouth. “I don’t think so. Please hurry!” This didn’t make sense. Had someone hit him? I didn’t see any blood. I swept my eyes over his legs and arms—stopping abruptly at what I saw. “Nooooo.” At first, I thought the wailing had returned, until I realized that I was the one making the sound eerily like what woke me. “Chloe, are you okay? I have help on the way. Stay on the line with me until they arrive.” “No. No. No.” My cell phone dropped from my hand as I backed away. Tears blurred my view until I could no longer see the needle stuck in my dad’s arm. *** Excerpt from BEYOND THE CEMETERY GATE: The Secret Keeper’s Daughter by Valerie Biel. Copyright 2024 by Valerie Biel. Reproduced with permission from Valerie Biel. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Valerie Biel:

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Valerie Biel

Valerie Biel writes books for middle grade to adult audiences–stories inspired by her travels and her insatiable curiosity. Her award-winning, young adult fantasy series, Circle of Nine, was inspired by the myth and magic of Ireland’s ancient stone circles. She’s also the author of Haven, a contemporary middle grade novel, and Beyond the Cemetery Gate, a YA mystery suspense story. She helps other authors with their book promotion and marketing and frequently teaches writing workshops to students of all ages. When Valerie’s away from the computer, you might find her wrangling her overgrown garden, traveling the world, and reading everything she can get her hands on. Once upon a time, she graduated from the University of Wisconsin with degrees in journalism and political science. She lives with her husband on a (tiny) portion of her family’s century-old farm in rural Wisconsin, but regularly dreams of finding a cozy cottage on the Irish coast where she can write and write.

Catch Up With Valerie Biel: ValerieBiel.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads – @valerie_biel BookBub – @ValerieBiel Instagram – @ValerieBielAuthor Threads – @ValerieBielAuthor X – @ValerieBiel Facebook – @ValerieBielBooks YouTube – @ValerieBielAuthor

 

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Immortal Dark By Shermon Kodi ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: March 5, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, YA Fantasy
Tags: , ,
13

 

Immortal Dark

by Shermon Kodi

 

Publication date: March 10th 2025
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

The shadows awaken as darkness falls. And these shadows have fangs.

Seventeen-year-old Bexis has survived the frozen streets of Coppejj by trusting no one but herself. With her shadow magic, she’s scraped by as a freelance thief, working for local gang lords and politicians.

But when a routine heist goes horribly wrong, Bexis is branded with ancient magic, making her the target of a bloodthirsty spirit.

Desperate for answers, she turns to an eccentric demon hunter. Together, they uncover a deadly plot by a sinister cabal, threatening to plunge the world into eternal night. As Bexis confronts her haunted past, she faces a grim choice: Embrace the shadows within, or lose everything she holds dear.

To destroy the darkness, she must first become it.

Add to Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The job is simple.

Enter the room unseen. Wait for Ajjan to distract the mark—a foreign dignitary from the south. Then acquire her handbag and deliver it to the other side of town.

No blood. No trace.

My employer was very specific about that last bit. It’s common protocol in my line of work, along with an understanding that pay will be docked by half if I’m spotted. If there’s blood, I might not get paid at all. My mark must never know I was here. Personally, I thought I’d outgrown grabbing purses in the night. But it’s an easy job, and I can use the money.

The red night moon casts the world in crimson light as I pull myself onto the third-story balcony of a slummy brothel in the west end. The window is webbed with ice, obscuring my view inside—I can only make out pale blotches of yellow light. There doesn’t seem to be any movement, but I can’t be sure the room is empty. I just have to hope the Blackbones did their job and set everything up.

I give the windowpane a shove, but it doesn’t budge. Damn. The thing hasn’t been opened in months, and it’s frozen shut. For a common thief, a frozen window stymies a job. But I’m no common thief.

I take out my trapper tone pipe, a metal cylinder with a single reed, tuned to one specific note. The reflective surface catches light from the lanterns below, illuminating my name inscribed along the side in big bold letters: BEXIS. It was a gift from my deadbeat father right before he abandoned me. It’s the last thing I have from him, and if it weren’t so damn useful, I’d have tossed it years ago.

I bring the pipe to my lips and blow. The note is inaudible, like a dog whistle, too high for the human ear to hear. But the vibration weaves through the air and seeps into my skin, where it sparks like flint on steel, and a sonorous ember catches deep in my chest. Resonance hums through my body. The ambient darkness around me shimmers with feathered lines of silver that only I can see.

A burst of power shudders through me, and I hold it within my realm of focus, like cupping a candle against a sea wind.

This is resonance trapping—the first step in performing harmonic magic. Mine is the harmony of shadow. Sparking the ember is the easy part. Trapping it is more difficult, but holding it once it’s been trapped? Well, that’s like riding an angry wolverine. If I’m not careful, I might lose control, and people could get hurt. It’s been months since that’s happened, but there’s always a chance the resonance will lash out, sending me into an episode of uncontrollable power.

Resonance quivers through my veins. I reach my hand to the glass, willing the vibration into my fingertips, and the shadows obey. Tendrils of silver swirl across my wrist and through my palm. I touch the windowpane, and the shadows run through it, seeping like oil into the hinges.

The window squeals as ice crumbles around the edges.

I shift my awareness to the space above my head. Resonance purrs in my chest as I weave gossamer strands of silver around me like a cloak. This is my greatest trick. So long as I can hold the resonance and have enough ambient shadow to work with, I can conceal myself from prying eyes. But I can’t maintain it for long; already, I can feel my energy beginning to drain as heaviness settles behind my eyes.

Best be quick now.

I heave the window open and squeeze inside.

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About Author Shermon Kodi:

Shermon Kodi is a legally blind author who finds inspiration in the quiet knolls of Chittenden County, Vermont, where the long snowy winters drive one to pair wool socks with moccasin slippers and curl up by the furnace with a pot of chamomile tea and a book about monsters in dark places doing dark things. Through his writing, Shermon seeks to explore the resilience of the human spirit, the tenacity of good people faced with hard times, and the relationships that light us up, make our hearts smile, and carry us through every storm.

When he’s not writing, Shermon spends his time thinking about writing.

He knows this is a problem— although, he contends, it’s a good kind of problem to have. Occasionally, he’ll break from his routines and really let go— sleep in till 7 AM, drink tea instead of coffee, read in the mornings, or plug in the ’07 Strat and reminisce about the days when he dreamed of being a rockstar instead of an author.

He’ll be the first to tell you: “No regrets!”

Life is funny like that.

Shermon is the author of Heart of the Valley and Songs of the Rhor, both available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited. Stay connected on TikTok and Instagram for updates on his latest books, behind-the-scenes insights, and creative content.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Newsletter

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Fairies Don’t Forgive By TF Burke ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: February 26, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, YA Fantasy
Tags: , ,
9

 

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 When truths uncovered cannot be forgotten. Or forgiven.

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Faeries Don’t Forgive

Heart of the Worlds Book 2

by TF Burke

Genre: YA Epic Fantasy

 

Returning to Nonderu,
the underworld court, to rescue her dad should have been simple after the
malevolent soul-sucking Boggleman fell to his presumable demise. They just need
to find a way in. And get past the Mockmen trolls.

Instead, Aunia is attacked by a fanatical soldier cult that seeks to kill or
capture her. Plus, her unmanageable magic notifies deadly wererats of her
location. It also hurls her into an evil sorceress’ study. If all this wasn’t
enough, she’s fighting a different battle with Mathias, her pegasus-riding
love. His insistence to keep her hidden is more infuriating than any of their
enemies. It leaves her determined to kick anyone who says first love is easy.

Worst of all are the truths she’s uncovering. Truths that can’t be forgotten.
Or forgiven.

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

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Chapter Seventeen

Clurichauns

What makes a man something worth admiring and when will you doubt his worth? — Queen Didianne, in the reign of the mad queen

A buzzing brushed Aunia’s skin like a hive of bees as she lurched in a mad attempt to keep her footing. The smell of woods, perfumes, and herbs had disappeared and in its place was the stench of waste, unfamiliar food, and burning metal.

A village-full of voices swirled within the buzzing . . . one pulled at her plaintively, though she couldn’t make out the words. Dust skated over Aunia’s feet as she appeared in a long boxed-in area surrounded by bulging timber buildings covered in faded paint and smeared pitch. And pressed within this area were more people than she had seen in her entire life.

“I said let the child go,” a gruff voice said from behind her.

Aunia swiveled.

An older man with a broken-nose, well-muscled and tall, like Oskan from her village, stood in front of two men in red cloaks.

“We don’t take orders from you, Mason,” the shorter of the two red-cloaked men said. He yanked a small boy towards him by the arm and the child’s sandy-haired head bounced off his chest.

“He’s hungry is all,” the broken-nose man said. “I’ll pay for him.”

“Bugger off,” the red cloak said.

Aunia stepped forward. “You can’t let a child go hungry.”

Several of the people glared at her.

“Shut your mouth, rover,” said a pillar-built woman with a messy bun, brown hair streaked in gray. She stood in front of a building with large windows and a swinging sign, which read ‘Forged Tankard.’ “Ain’t no food he stole.”

“Brana,” the broken-nosed man growled.

The woman rolled her eyes and pushed past him, holding up a small ring with two finger-length keys. “Missing these?”

The larger of the two red-cloaked men reached under his cloak patted his side, and his face turned red. “It’s the stocks for ye, boy.”

The boy dropped to the cobblestones and the shorter, red-cloaked man yanked him back one-handed. Held his other hand high to strike.

“Stop it,” Aunia yelled.

The larger of the red-cloaked men turned in her direction.

“Not the stocks.” A bearded man in a long-sleeved patchwork tunic, white powder streaks along his sleeves, stepped forward. “You’ve the boy’s mother in custody already. She was an unbraceleted faeblood. He’d be the same. You know it. It’s prison he should go.”

Faces pressed against the glass windows of the Forged Tankard’s tavern. Some folk stepped forward. Others melted back, including the broken-nosed man.

Aunia shook. Taya was indeed right of cities being dangerous. If this was how they treated small children . . . but what could she do? She was only one in a crowd.

“Stop,” she slid back, beseeching the broken-nose man. “You have to help. He’s just a boy.”

But the man slid into a narrow alleyway between the tavern and another building, and past a pig rooting in a pile of broken barrels, jugs, food scraps, and rags.

“She ain’t my mom,” the child screamed. “Not my real one. She picked me out of the garbage. I was just a slave to her.”

The taller, red-cloaked man yanked the child’s sleeve up. “Unbraceleted. You. Run to the Yanna’s forge. Grab a cuff. Now.”

“Don’t be thinking of calling on any magic,” the shorter, red-cloaked man said, bending to sneer those words in the child’s face.

“I’m . . . not a faeblood.” The child stopped his struggling and with his wrist in the guard’s grip, pointed in Aunia’s direction. “That’s the one you want. A real faeblood. Didn’t you see? She just skipped out of nowhere.”

The larger man straightened. “You. Rover.”

Aunia backed away, nearly colliding with a press of people guarding her back. Rover? But of course, she was wearing their garb. And by their expression and harsh tone, they did not like rovers.

“Don’t think you’re going anywhere,” one woman in a dark gray gown said.

Faeblood . . . this is how the people saw Reina. “I’ve . . . I’m looking for flyers,” Aunia said. “I flew with them over the Grashbear. Mathias. Keston. Fallo. You’ve had to have seen them. This is Dalin, isn’t it?”

The scowls of the people deepened. They shuffled closer. People in front of her and behind her, but the alleyway . . . could she flee with that pig in the way? Pig. She blinked. It had a quilted cloth saddle fastened around its girth with knotted cloth straps. And stitched cloth saddlebags hanging along the pig’s side. Who would be riding a pig?

[for a 700+ word excerpt use the verbiage above OR include the rest of the chapter for just under 1500 words]

“Look alive,” a raspy voice sounded.

Aunia squinted. Amongst the broken wooden boxes and broken jars, two little men, shin-high, drank from a clay jar over half the size they were. Clurichauns with their rosy, weathered faces. They were solitary beings generally. The last time she saw one was in Gaitha’s basement lapping up a bit of spilled apple brandy.

Someone, the taller red-cloak, grabbed Aunia’s upper arm and a raw thrill, like a sharp nail, rose through her throat. “Leave me be.”

She yanked. He held her firm, his fingers pressing into her flesh like a vise.

The adrenaline spike landed against the pit of her stomach like a stone. Mygul. She sucked in a breath, squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to coax a pinching sensation in her temples. Nothing. Her mouth turned to dry paper. Did she even have her glowing blue globefire anymore? She hadn’t seen it since the Boggleman’s veil tendril lodged itself in her gut when she stood on Hebsolum’s palm. Did that mean Hebsolum had it? Hebsolum, the thief who took her mother’s amulet. The only good thing he had done was to help her cage the roiling blue storm cloud made of Edvaras’ magic . . . but her bit of magic . . . the one that caused mischief, made her an outcast, kept her safe. He must have taken it, too.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Prison. Was that where they were sending her? How would Mathias even find her? A soft mew escaped her and Aunia shook her head. She couldn’t show weakness. And there were clurichauns. Faeries often would help her. Would these?

She turned her head to the alleyway where the clurichauns swilled leftover booze from broken crockery. “Help me.”

One of the clurichauns looked her way, bright eyes going wide. “She sees us.” His voice, gravelly and sing-song, sounded over the clamor of human voices.

“She don’t.” The blonder of the two clapped the auburn one’s shoulder. “She do. Drat it. On our way, Sharpish.” He pointed to the pig.

“She be the one Mara made mention.”

“We can’t be making the Boggles mad now, can we, you know,” the blonde one said. “We go.”

The Boggles? Did he mean the Boggleman? Aunia struggled against her restraint. “I want to, too.”

“Want to what?” the red-cloaked man sneered.

“Want you to let go,” Aunia said between her teeth. “You’re hurting me.”

The man tightened his grip. “I’m barely holding you.”

Aunia struggled toward the alleyway. Saying please would cause possible faery aid to disappear but what poem could she utter? Aunia groaned. “Help me now it’s good folk fashion. Aid to for those who seek compassion.”

“You call that a poem,” the blonde clurichaun said. He shook his head then made a running jump onto the pig’s back. His green pants contrasted with the wine-stained saddle. “Come on, brother.”

“Brandy. I’ll bring you brandy,” Aunia yelled.

“No one bribes the guard.” The stinging heat from his slap rang into her cheekbones. “Where’s that Davis? Cuff her good and she can blubber whatever nonsense with the other lobheads.

“Don’t know,” the shorter of the red-cloaked men said. He still clutched the boy’s arm. “But that face is sweet even with your handprint.”

“Ah, that’s done it,” Sharply said. “Dismount, Gargle. Now.”

Gargle patted the saddle. “There’s another tavern were—”

“Certain things don’t get done. Now off brother, lest you go for a ride.”

The two clurichauns glared at each other while some of the townsfolk shuffled aside and a thin man with iron cuffs jogged forward.

Gargle dismounted. “It’s on you if this is a bad decision.”

“I’m always the one you blame.” Sharply scooped up the neck of a broken bottle, drew his arm back and made a mighty throw at the pig’s backside. It hit with a thunk and the pig gave a squeal. People standing at the mouth of the alleyway fell back as the pig pelted straight for Aunia and the red-cloaked man.

“Doxy-churl,” the guardsmen swore. He staggered back, pulling Aunia with him out of the way but Aunia yanked with everything she had in the other direction. The man’s fingers slid over her upper arm painfully. There was the sharp rip of fabric. And then she was free.

Aunia ran.

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Faeries Don’t Lie

Heart of the Worlds Book 1

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Can Two Worlds Survive an Augury?

Releasing a Chandarion’s god-like magic into the world isn’t what
sixteen-year-old Aunia, the village’s outcast, intends. She only wants to
impress Mathias, a visiting seventeen-year-old pegasus flyer, who fiercely
believes the choice—either Faery or Mortal world surviving—has come.

Her action calls forth the Boggleman, a soul-sucking ghoul, who abducts her
dad, eats her faery friends, and sets Dagel demons on her isolated village. And
worse.

The worlds of Ahnu-Endynia are full of faeries, pegasi flyers, myths, secrets,
and themes of belonging, despite being misunderstood. And if you don’t watch
carefully . . . You might be pulled into the Betwixt. . . the space between the
worlds.

**On Sale
for Only .99cents!**

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Explaining true love to a garden faery wasn’t easy. Aunia tapped her pitchfork against the stone-slabbed floor and wrinkled her nose against the golden dust while her faery friend, Jennium, landed between a nanny goat’s ears. The escaped animal froze in place in front of the long wooden goat pens while the faery sat cross-legged on her furry perch, folding her iridescent wings, purples, blues, and yellows.

Another of Jennium’s mind-pictures arose in Aunia’s head. This one was of the villagers, old and young, dancing arm-in-arm in twisting steps around a bonfire—fiery sparks rising to the stars.

“That’s the party afterwards. True love is how you feel. How your heart would give away every constellation to see your beloved smile.” Aunia flipped her blond braid over her shoulder and wished she could disappear into the slithering crack along the stable’s high-vaulted ceiling—or, better yet, fly away to the faery world . . .if that doorway wasn’t watched. “But like I said, there’s no one here for me.”

Unlike the two lovers exchanging mating beads this night, she would stand in the shadows as an outcast, too different to be accepted. At sixteen years of age, she needed to accept this would be her life. She scooped another pitchfork of dirty hay onto the dung heap.

Jennium propelled another image—Aunia’s father standing, back turned and shoulders slumped, at his favorite fishpond. The faery tipped her raven-haired head as if to ask, “And where’s your father’s true love?”

Aunia’s hands slid on the pitchfork. She couldn’t answer that. Her father refused to talk about her. But it was obvious he clung to her memory—whoever she was. And he had to have loved her real mom desperately. Why else would he have treated Nehla like a sister. A sister he couldn’t save from being skewered by a wild boar. An accident. An awful, terrible accident.

Stomping, Aunia passed the long pen of bleating goats and turned up the middle junction of horse stalls to the quadruple-sized hay-less stall that had been Nehla’s pottery work area. She frowned at the grain buckets lining the shoulder-high wall where clay boards used to stand. She padded to Nehla’s pottery wheel, draped with a green and yellow blanket, and pressed her knuckles against the scratchy wool. Three years later and it still hurt.

With a light jingle, Jennium landed on Aunia’s head and projected another image—a woman’s silhouette, but not Nehla.

Aunia pulled her hand away from the pottery wheel. For a moment, she made out the curve of the woman’s left cheek, so like her own. Then, the silhouette was gone.

“I don’t remember my mother,” Aunia said. “But she probably had faery sight like me. Maybe she could even see people’s glows.”

A whiny buzz brushed against Aunia’s hair and a shiny green bug dove behind the stall’s black walnut wood.

Jennium launched up, and Aunia winced at the tug, reaching to free the faery’s tiny feet from her braid. Jennium yanked through, chittering, and landed on an empty pottery shelf—one that rested on iron spikes nailed into the wall. Those spikes had been made from Nehla’s sacrificed pot hooks to keep faeries from breaking freshly made bowls.

“How are you—”

A screech from the stable’s front door sent Aunia crouching behind the pottery wheel.

“The bottle in the back ought to muffle the evening proper,” said Sigmus with his deep wheezy voice.

Aunia tensed. Her father’s closest friend would still be livid about the faeries shoving tadpoles in his boots from yesterday’s yesterday. But it had been his own fault. He had insulted the water fae.

Aunia tiptoed forward and peeked over the stall’s wall. These two were supposed to be stacking wood for the cooking fires. Her father’s head and shoulders, glowing with his usual brick-red aura, seem to float above the horse pen-wall—or did until he dodged a buzzing insect.

Sigmus swiveled, cracking his hands together, presumably squashing the bug. “Ain’t no grace-fall smushing your own pest.”

Dad jutted his jaw. “I can’t do that.”

“And you get a grumping every beading.”

Dad’s red glow dulled. “I am happy for them.”

“Sure. It makes all the sense you hankering to sneak off to the sheep cave.”

“Fish pond,” Dad clarified.

“Well, I’ve a better idea. Wait here.” Sigmus waddled up the middle aisle toward her.

Aunia ducked, pressing a hand over her mouth. Her sigh filled her palm when his footfalls veered toward the nearby tack and storage room.

Sheep-cave? No one was allowed near them. Dad himself had told her the Boggleman lived there now. She eased to a trousered knee and considered. Sigmus was probably just saying that for shock and her father was looking to wander off to be alone.

She had wanted to sneak away earlier, too. Sneak past the gate-minders to the woods for a game of tag with the moss-gnomes or maybe cajole a dryad into playing a whistle-tune. She had almost made it through the gate but got caught, so she ran and hid in the stable.

Aunia leaned against the chest-high wall. It would be better to stay with faery friends instead of being in the village.

The tack room door grumbled open, followed with chalky scuffles from dried leather and thud-clack of ceramics. Sigmus hooted. He probably stashed another bottle of the apothecary’s cider brandy.

Sigmus exited the tack room, popped the bottle, and shouted, “Figure you’ll get a fair healing, spilling out your sorrows.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” her father called back.

Stars. How long am I going to need to hide while they drink?

Sigmus pranced past her stall. Aunia inched forward. Her father stood about ten yards from her in the middle aisle and close to the dung heap.

“Ah, so you say,” Sigmus said. “But I knows these beading ceremonies remind you of yer Tamorian lady wife.”

Tamorian? Lightning crackled in Aunia’s belly and erupted against the back of her throat. “You’ll tell him about my mother but not me.”

Dad whirled in her direction, his glow retreating to a scant fingers-width around his head. She marched out of the pen while Sigmus stepped in her way.

“Move, Sigmus,” she said. “I’m talking to my father. My dad, not yours.”

Sigmus raised his hand. “You’re supposed to be stirring them stew pots.”

“Like you gathering wood?” Aunia tried sidestepping him but Sigmus’ elbow clipped the side of her head. She hunched-over, wishing she could melt Sigmus “Sourling-Beast” into pudding ash.

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TF Burke currently
works with NYT David Farland’s Apex-Writers as an admin and marketing
specialist, where she schedules industry leaders for weekly multi-Zoom calls,
provides content for social posts, and hosts several writer-focused Zooms.

Her published works includes hundreds of newspaper articles, blog posts across
various platforms, anthologies, including MURDERBUGS, the second volume of the
Unhelpful Encyclopediam a collection of short stories in WHIRL OF THE FAE, and
the first book of the Heart of the Worlds Series, FAERIES DON’T LIE.

When not writing or wearing other hats, she can be found with a sword and a
dagger in her hands for medieval-style fencing tournaments and melees,
something she’s been doing since 2010.

Website *
Facebook * Instagram
* Bluesky * Bookbub *
Amazon * Goodreads

 

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Signed copies of both books + Swag! (US only)

$20 Amazon gift card (WW)

-1 winner each!

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Would You Rather By Kimberly Baer ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: February 23, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, Paranormal or fantasy, YA
Tags: , ,
7

 

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The luck of the draw has never been riskier.

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Would You Rather…

part of The Haunting of Pinedale High Series

by Kimberly Baer

Genre: YA Paranormal

Pick a card, any
card…

Would you rather be an amazing artist or a brilliant mathematician?

Would you rather lose your mother or your father?

Would you rather roast to death or freeze to death?

It’s a silly game hosted by a substitute teacher, an exercise in exploring the
workings of the teenage mind. Twenty-three students make their choices, and the
game is forgotten—until the chosen scenarios start coming true. Classmates Ava,
Blake, and Charlie are determined to track down the mysterious teacher and
persuade him to end the curse. But the clock is ticking, lives hang in the
balance, and the foe they seek is more menacing than they could imagine.

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Amazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo * Bookbub * Goodreads

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Deej stared at his card for a long time. Then he shot Mr. Trinkley a dark look. “This is effed up.”

Mr. Trinkley said, “Read the card aloud, Mr. Nolty.”

Deej’s mouth twisted like he was chewing something nasty. He read, “ ‘Would you rather die of cancer or be killed in a vehicular collision?’ ”

A horrified silence followed. Jared mumbled, “That’s harsh.”

Deej said flatly, “So either way I’m screwed.”

“Some may see it that way,” said Mr. Trinkley. “Regardless, you must choose. Surely one scenario is preferable to the other.”

Deej shook his head, his lips pressed together. Mr. Trinkley glanced around the classroom. “Thoughts, anyone?”

For the longest time no one spoke. Finally, Charlie said, “If you die fast, you don’t suffer. Dying slow gives you time to reflect back on your life.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” said Mr. Trinkley.

“Fine,” said Deej. “Then kill me in an accident. I’ve only lived for sixteen years. I don’t have much to reflect back on.”

Blake wondered if everyone else was as eager for class to end as he was. He glanced at the clock. Twenty-five minutes to go. He wished the bell would ring before his turn came up, but that was unlikely. There were only six people between him and would you rather.

His heart thudded sickly, a fight-or-flight response with no rational basis. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself. Everything is fine. It’s just a silly game.

But was it? His gut insisted something was very wrong.

Mr. Trinkley moved to the next desk and then the next. Blake felt like a fly caught in a web, waiting for the spider to scuttle over and devour him. Would you rather scenarios flowed into his ears and took root in his imagination, like horror-movie shorts.

Would you rather live in a house infested by bedbugs or by spiders?

Would you rather roast to death or freeze to death?

Would you rather have a grotesque rash or chronic diarrhea?

The room blurred and shimmied around him, and he clutched the edges of his desk to steady himself. This whole situation seemed surreal, like a dream. A nightmare, actually. Why were so many of the scenarios bad? Nobody’d had a good one since Jared.

A shape materialized at Blake’s side, dark as a shadow. “Your turn, Mr. Pedley.”

Blake wondered suddenly how Mr. Trinkley knew everybody’s name. Had he memorized the seating chart before class started? That didn’t seem possible unless the guy had a photographic memory.

Blake eyed the tray apprehensively. The cards were no longer lined up neatly but had gotten jumbled, like objects jostled around by an earthquake. The card backs were ivory in color, though it was possible they’d started out bright white and had yellowed over the course of many years. Each one featured a dark blue star with a staring eye in the middle of it. A fancy curlicue design danced around the border.

Blake reached for a card near the middle of the pile but then withdrew his hand. He almost chose a card that was half hidden under several others but changed his mind. He finally selected a card that was off by itself in a corner of the tray.

He winced as he turned it over.

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Kimberly Baer is an author
and professional editor who was born and raised in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, a
town marginally famous for having endured three major floods. She even lived
there during one of them. She enjoys power-walking on days when it’s not too
hot, too cold, too rainy, too snowy, or too windy. On indoor days, you’re
likely to find her hard at work on her next novel or binge-watching old
episodes of Survivor, her favorite guilty pleasure.

 Kim has had her nose in a
book practically since birth. Her first story, written at age six, was about a
baby chick that hatched out of a little girl’s Easter egg after somehow
surviving the hard-boiling process. These days she writes in a variety of genres,
including young adult, middle-grade, and adult romantic suspense. Her books are
published by The Wild Rose Press and have won several awards.

Website * Facebook
* X * Instagram
* Bluesky * Bookbub *
Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.

GIa Rafflecopter giveaway

.

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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