Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts

Saturday, May 18, 2013

First Blog Tour: Review, Excerpt and Giveaway


First (Book 1 of Live Once Trilogy) by Chanda Stafford

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Mira works on a farm in the ruins of Texas, along with all of the other descendants of the defeated rebels. Though she’s given her heart to Tanner, their lives are not their own.

When Socrates, a powerful First, chooses Mira as his Second, she is thrust into the bewildering world of the rich and influential. Will, a servant assigned to assist her, whispers of rebellion, love, and of a darker fate than she’s ever imagined.

With time running out, Mira must decide whether to run to the boy she left behind, the boy who wants her to live, or the man who wants her dead.


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Excerpt:                                                        

Don’t say a word.”
Adrian
The room smells musty, unused. Kind of like the back storage buildings on the farm, or the old cellar the Chesanings don’t use any more where we explore and play games. Shafts of sunlight slant through the cracks in the heavy, dark red curtains, and when I take a step, more puffs of dust cloud the air. Chairs covered in white blankets line the walls and tower over me in stacks almost as high as the ceiling. 

“What do you think they’re doing out there?” I whisper, but it’s so quiet, I could be shouting.

My servant, Will, shushes me. “If you listen closely, I bet you can hear your First talking.”

I creep over to the door and press my ear against it. Nothing. As if no one’s on the other side. “Isn’t this the Release Ceremony? Shouldn’t I be out there with him?”

Will nods, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms in front of him. “That’s normally how it happens. This is… odd.”

“Did I do something wrong? Did I make Thoreau mad?” I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. Grow up, Adrian. Stop acting like a baby.

“No, of course not.” He flashes me a quick grin, but I can tell he’s nervous.

“Are you sure?” I hate it when my voice is all shaky like a little baby’s.

“Definitely. I would know if there was a problem.” He shrugs, and a bar of light illuminates his carefree smile. “I bet it’s to save you from having to sit out there for the whole ceremony. Some of them can get pretty long.”

On the other side of the door, I hear clapping. An old man’s voice rises up as the applause dies.

“There, you see?” Will says. “Nothing to worry about.” I turn away and tune him out so I can listen to Thoreau.

“Thank you, my friends, for this most welcome reception. As a First, I’ve lived for hundreds of years, influenced this country in ways the average person can’t even begin to comprehend. With your continued support, and that of Princeton, I will use your gift to change the future and create a better tomorrow. Thank you.”

A dull roar follows his words, and I fidget in my seat, watching the door. My eyes dart to Will.

“This doesn’t make any sense, Will. I should be out there.”

“I’m sure they’ll call you shortly, Adrian. Maybe the usual waiting room was unavailable and—”

A loud boom shakes the room, and I almost fall down. The chairs weave back and forth in their towers, and millions of dust particles rain down. Will shoves me away from the wall and pushes me toward the back of the room.

“Move, now!” he shouts, but my ears are ringing, and I cough from the dust. He looks behind us at the door and forces me to move faster.

“Murderer! Child killer! Free the Second!” a loud, mechanical voice shouts from the other room. “Free the Second! Free the Second!”

There’s more yelling, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Another, quieter boom. Will pushes me to a narrow closet.

“In here,” he hisses and shoves me inside. We stay like that for what feels like a couple hours before the door to our main room bangs open, and I hear the heavy clomping of boots.

“You in here with the Second, boy?” Will stays silent. There is a general grumbling outside, some swearing my mother would never approve of, then the deep, gravelly voice speaks again. “Alpha Code One, this is Underground Robin. Is the cargo safe and accounted for? I repeat, is the cargo safe and accounted for?”

Apparently these are magic words for Will because relief washes over his features.

“Who wants to know?”

“Papa bird.” The men march over to our closet and slide open the door. “Good spot, boy.” The head guard, an older man with a pinched face and a permanent frown sheaths his Artos. The other guards keep theirs out. Why? Is it still dangerous?

“What’s going on out there?” Will asks.

“Nothing we didn’t expect. Stupid rebels, always doing things half-assed.” He grins. “Let’s go.” One of them reaches out for me, but I jerk away.

Will touches my shoulder, reassuring me. “It’s okay, Adrian. We’re safe now.”

I shake my head and step back. “Where are we going?”

“Someplace safe.” The head guard takes my arm roughly in his. “Don’t worry. We won’t let anything happen to you.” One of the other guards laughs, as if that’s somehow funny.

“Is… my First all right?”

“He’s fine, boy.” He drags me from the closet. “Now let’s go.”

“Where?” My feet skitter, trying to find purchase as the guard forces me to follow him. The other men glance at each other, at me, then away again. Even Will won’t meet my eyes. Fear freezes me, and I dig my shoes into the thick carpeting. “Will? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he answers too quickly. “Just a trip down to the medical center, to make sure you’re all right.” He tries to give me another smile, but he’s lying about something. I can feel it.

“But I’m fine,” I protest as the guard pulls me to the side of the room, behind the curtains where, instead of a window, there is another door. “Can’t you just tell them that? I’m fine. I just want to go back to my room.”

Will shakes his head, sadly. “I’m sorry, Adrian, I really am.”

“What’s going on? Why are you sorry? Will?”

“Let’s go,” one of the other guards growls from the rear of our group. “We don’t have all day. Some of us have work to do.”

Disclaimer: I received this book from the publisher in exchange for a review. 

Review: A very realistic portrayal of a very dismal and depressing future.

Unlike many of the young adult dystopian novels I have read recently, First’s dystopian setting is one that I actually believe and find completely plausible, which makes it quite scary. Along with Mira, the reader slowly discovers what Seconds actually do for their Firsts. The history of the world that First takes place in is something I would to love more about. I know that Texas rebelled, but apparently not any other places in the country. There are mentions of the wilderness of the border. What happened to Mexico?

Mira was a strong, sympathetic character whom I rather liked. I also liked Socrates despite what he did to a number of children over hundreds of years. I am not sure what it was about Mira, the rebels, or his wife or some combination of them all that made him make the decision he eventually did in the end. I saw it coming, but was glad Socrates made that decision. I really do wonder what will happen to Mira in the future. Though I thought her love for Will developed too fast, I do hope that she will be able to be with him.

About the Author: Chanda Stafford teaches middle and high school English. She loves traveling and currently lives in Michigan with her husband and a menagerie of rescued dogs and cats.

When she’s not reading or writing, Chanda enjoys old zombie movies, authentic Italian food, and comic books.

Visit her blog





Giveaway:

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Saturday, January 12, 2013

The Rise of The Fire Tamer Blog Tour: Review, Excerpts, and Giveaway



Rise of the Fire Tamer by Kailin Gow
After winning a contest for a popular game called Wordwick Games, five teens Gemma, Sparks, Rio, Kat, and Jack, are invited to stay at Wordwick Games inventor Henry Word's mysterious castle and play the newest level of Workwick Games. Little do they know, the castle is the doorway to a wondrous world call Anachronia where words can be used as weapons, power, and commodity. There is unrest in Anachronia, and if the five teens can follow the rules of Wordwick Games and prove to be the best player, one of them will be crowned Ruler of Anachronia.


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Book Trailer




EXCERPT 1:
Gem recognized the voice instantly as that of Henry Word. After his online announcements, she was hardly going to forget. He must have come into the hallway through a side door. She turned to greet him with the others, expecting to look up into the already half-familiar face, and had to adjust the direction of her gaze when it turned out that Henry Word was sitting down.

He was sitting down because he was in a wheelchair.

It was quite a high tech wheelchair, obviously custom made and designed around Henry Word, but there was no escaping the fact that it was there. From the waist up, Mr. Word was dressed conservatively, even elegantly, in a suit and silk tie. From the waist down, his legs disappeared beneath a tartan blanket. They didn’t appear again on the other side.
“A small accident from my army days,” Henry word said, and Gem found herself wondering if he’d read her mind in the second it took to decide that the others probably looked just as surprised as she did. Gem realized that, in all the pictures she had seen of Henry Word either online or in magazines, not one had shown more than his head and shoulders.
Henry Word laughed then.
“I can see I’ve caught you all rather by surprise. Still, before I turn into the main topic of conversation, can I take a moment to welcome the five of you?’ his gaze flicked to each of them in turn, and Gem guessed that he was matching names to faces in his mind. “You are all here, of course, because you have turned out to be some of the biggest fans of my little game. Congratulations on that. For the next week, you’ll be staying in what I hope you’ll find to be extremely comfortable surroundings, and you’ll get the benefit of a very special surprise.”
“What surprise?” Rio asked from behind Gem. Henry Word chuckled again.
“Ah, Riordan Roberts, I take it? Well, there is nothing to be suspicious about. In fact, I think that as fans, you will all enjoy this particular surprise. I have simply decided to allow you access to the tenth level of my game while we are here.”
Gem felt her brow furrow.
“But Mr. Word, aren’t there only nine levels?”
“That’s true at the moment,” Henry Word answered. “Anachronia is rather new. You will be among the first to play it. Still, let’s not focus on that too much now, shall we? Chef has excelled himself in the Great Hall, and I’m sure you must all be hungry after your journeys.”

EXCERPT 2:
“It’s very straightforward really. Your goal when playing it will be to win the crown of the kingdom of Anachronia, using all your wits, skills and talents. The people will only give the crown to someone who can do three things: end the threat of the three-headed dragon terrorizing the land, unite the two warring clans that live there, and help the people of Anachronia flourish. Is that clear?”

            Gem nodded. Several of the others did too.

            “It sounds simple,” Sparks said, beside her.

            “Oh, it’s not as easy as it sounds,” Henry Word continued, “which is why there are a few other things you should know. First, beware the Wickedly Woods where the dragon lives. It isn’t the only danger there. Second, remember that you can work together, even if only one of you can rule in the end. Third, and most importantly, remember that words have power in Anachronia, finding the right words, the Ruler Words, along the way will make your time far easier.”

Review: Disclaimer: I received this book from the author.

An enjoyable young adult fantasy novel with a competent main female character.

I enjoyed the clever mix of science fiction and fantasy. The fantasy aspect obviously takes a much bigger role than the science fiction part, the science fiction aspect brings up a number of intriguing questions. If Anachronia is real, how do you get there and how did they figure out how to get there? What are those pods the kids go into? I am definitely intrigued to read the second book. It looks like it will answer a number of the questions I have. The fantasy aspect was your standard fantasy fare, which I like. 

I liked Gem because she was a smart, competent, and caring person. Unfortunately, she seems too good to be true. She doesn't have any flaws that I can see and she always make the right decision so no one else gets hurts. What I really liked about the first Dragon Age video game was how the decisions were not black and white and someone always got affected by that decision. I would have liked to see some flaws in Gem. I liked the rest of the characters well enough although no one stood out too much. 

Rating:





Recommendation: I would recommend this book to those that enjoy young adult fantasy.

Author Kailin Gow

Kailin Gow is the award-winning, international bestselling author of over 80 distinct books. 

Kailin Gow is also the President of a media company, a media personality, and has been writing full-time since she was first published. Holding a Masters in communications management and leadership positions in Fortune 500 corporations, she puts her leadership abilities, her experience, and desire to help others into her fiction books. As a result, she has written the forthcoming, Finding the Heroine in You book which is also a national tour. She is a mother and spends whatever spare time she has volunteering at the Red Cross, Battered Women's Shelters, and other organizations. 

Currently her Frost Series is in development for a major international MMO Game, and she has over 14,000 and growing Frosters on her facebook fan page. 

Links:

Tour Giveaway
$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash
Ends 1/31/12

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, Not A Writer http://iamareader.com and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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Tour Schedule

January 7th
Tour Kick Off - I Am A Reader, Not A Writer
A Dream Within A Dream * The Bunny's Review * The Book Diva's Reads * icefairy's Treasure Chest * Chapter By Chapter * Cuzinlogic * Nikki's Book Blog * Promiscuous Diva * Beck Valley Books * Blkosiner's Book Blog * Books, Books the Magical Fruit * Peace from Pieces * The Mod Podge Bookshelf * Julie Reece * Froze8's Blog

January 8th
Book Blast - Multiple Blogs

January 9th
Ever and Ever Sight - Review
Magical Manuscripts - Review

January 10th
Reviews by Martha's Bookshelf - Review
Of Thoughts and Words - Review

January 11th
Parsimonious Posh - Review
Read My Breath Away - Review

January 12th
A Bit of Dash - Review
Sher A Hart: My Written Art - Review

January 13th
The College Crawl - Review

January 14th
Bookworm Lisa - Review
Vonnie's Reading Corner - Review

January 15th
Always YA at Heart - Review
Getting Your Read On - Review

January 16th
StoreyBook Reviews - Review

January 17th
My Book Mark Blog - Review

January 18th
Hardcover Feedback - Review
3Ps in a Pod - Review

January 19th
Scribbler's Sojourn - Review
A.D. Duling's Diddley Doodle Dandy Writings - Review

January 20th
Pieces of Whimsy - Review

January 21st
GeoLibrarian - Review
A Casual Reader's Blog - Review

January 22nd
Mom with a Kindle - Review
Indie Author How-to - Review

January 23rd
Lovey Dovey Books - Review

January 24th
Oh the Books You'll Read - Review
Debbie's Inkspectations - Review

January 25th
Every Free Chance - Review
Fiction Prediction - Review

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Guest Post and Excerpt by Steven Manchester

Today I will be featuring a guest post about the writing process by Steven Manchester, author of Twelve Months and Goodnight, Brian along with an excerpt of Goodnight, Brian.

My Writing Process
by Steven Manchester

I suppose I discovered the writing world by accident – or perhaps it discovered me.
I’d just returned home from Operation Desert Storm, and was working as a prison investigator in Massachusetts. Needless to say, there was great negativity in my life at that time. I decided to return to college to finish my degree in Criminal Justice. During one of the classes, the professor talked about police work but nothing else. I finally raised my hand and asked, “The criminal justice system is vast. What about the courts, probation, parole – corrections?” He smiled and told me to see him after class. I thought I’d finally done it! In his office, he explained, “There’s no written material out there on corrections or prisons, except from the slanted perspective of inmates.” He smiled again and dropped the bomb. “If you’re so smart,” he said, “why don’t you write it?”
Nine months later, I dropped the first draft of 6-5; A Different Shade of Blue on his desk. From then on, I was hooked. I was a writer.

I’d written a lot at my job (report writing), but it all started with my college professor’s challenge. Perhaps because of my age and experience, I understood right away that writing is a craft that takes time to evolve; to mature, so I spent the next several years PRACTICING my chosen craft. Under the pen name, Steven Herberts, I wrote in every venue of print I could get my name in: newspaper, magazine, etc. I also penned two collections of poetry, and wrote drafts for two more books. After five solid years of writing, I finally believed that I’d found my voice; MY STYLE – and was ready to contact an agent.

The greatest challenge for me has been time. First and foremost, I am a dad and my children come first. After that, there are other responsibilities that need my attention. Yet, my passion to write has constantly gnawed at my soul. To overcome the obstacle of time, I made writing a priority over watching TV and sometimes even sleeping. Once my family is taken care of and the world closes its eyes, I’m up for a few more hours each day – chasing my dreams on paper.

It has taken thousands of words, hundreds of pages, before I finally identified with a particular genre. I decided that my voice was a more sensitive one: a male perspective to a female audience. My novels, Twelve Months and Goodnight, Brian are evidence of that.

Goodnight, Brian synopsis:
Fate was working against little Brian Mauretti. The food that was meant to nourish him was poisoning him instead, and the doctors said the damage was devastating and absolute. Fate had written off Brian. But fate didn’t count on a woman as determined as Brian’s grandmother, Angela DiMartino – who everyone knew as Mama. Loving her grandson with everything she had, Mama endeavored to battle fate. Fate had no idea what it was in for.

An emotional tale about the strength of family bonds, unconditional love, and the perseverance to do our best with the challenging gifts we receive, Goodnight, Brian is an uplifting tribute to what happens when giving up is not an option.

Early Reviews include:
“Steven Manchester has a gift for expressing through his writing the complicated and transcendent beauty of the human experience with poignant clarity.” – Yolanda King, eldest daughter of Dr. Martin Luther King

“Steven Manchester’s Goodnight, Brian is a poignant, inspiring story about resilience and faith and one family’s enduring love that should be a model for us all.” – James S. Hirsch, bestselling author, Willie Mays: The Life, The Legend

“Steven has once again proven his deep insight into human emotions and relations and his ability to craft a well written and entertaining story that also has the power to inspire courage and hope. Goodnight, Brian is a fine read.” – Bob Price, WPZZ Radio Personality

Now that I have nearly two decades of writing and getting published under my belt, I enjoy trying to help new writers break in. My advice is always the same:
  • Be true to yourself, always.
  • Write constantly.
  • Keep the faith!!!
  • And NEVER, EVER, EVER quit. Most people in this industry would agree that more than talent or skill or even luck, perseverance is the one trait that will always get the job done.
  • Knock on every door you can, and keep knocking. I promise that eventually someone will open and the warmth you feel on your face will more than validate every hour spent alone in the darkness.

Goodnight, Brian
(brief excerpt)

Enough time had passed for the shock of Brian’s condition to wear off. Joan had stumbled beyond the grieving process and had given up negotiating with God. She was now at a place called rage. Mama sat with her daughter at the kitchen table, trying to help her make sense of it all. “Maybe Brian’s a test from God?” Mama suggested.
“Why would God test a little baby who’s never done a thing wrong? Why would He test an innocent child?” Joan snapped back.
Mama shook her head. “I didn’t say God was testing Brian,” she said evenly. There was a thoughtful pause. “Maybe He’s testing everyone around Brian?”
“I don’t want to hear that!” Joan roared. “My son will never be able to enjoy the life of other people who don’t…”
Mama slapped her hand on the Formica table, stopping Joan in mid-sentence and turning her face into that of a seven-year-old girl’s. “Not another negative word, do you hear me?” she yelled back, quickly grabbing her daughter’s hands and holding them tightly. “Positive, Joan—everything must be positive! Negative calls for negative and positive brings forth positive. Brian’s already facing some unfair challenges. We have to be positive, Joan. We just have to be!”
Joan wiped her eyes. “But what if the doctor’s right, Ma?” she muttered in a tortured voice. “What if…”
Without letting Joan’s hands go, Mama took a deep breath and started in on her own tirade. “The doctors don’t know what the hell they’re talking about! I had a grandmother who lived her whole life as a brittle diabetic, but she ate anything she wanted. She died three days before her eighty-fifth birthday. Your grandfather supposedly had cirrhosis of the liver, but lived with his bottle for forty more years until old age took him. They don’t know beans! Besides, we need to have faith in a higher source.” She pulled her crucifix away from her neck and kissed it. “You have to believe, Joan. Before any of the healing can take place, you have to believe that it will.” She nodded and lowered her tone. “Only God knows how…and that’s enough.”
Joan placed her face in her hands and began to cry. She was now completely removed from her rage and safely returned to the stage of grief. “I’m…just…so… scared,” she stuttered, sobbing.
Mama stroked her hair. “Don’t you worry, love. They say that children are raised by a village.” She nodded her gray, curly head. “I think it’s about time we had a village meeting.”

Friday, December 21, 2012

Lethal Inheritance Tour: Excerpt and Giveaway

Lethal Inheritance Tour 



Lethal Inheritance is a YA/adult mystical fantasy novel, the first  in the Diamond Peak Series by Tahlia Newland, author of the acclaimed You Can't Shatter Me. The story has action, adventure, romance, mystery, flashes of humour and a mix of fantasy and reality

Synopsis If last night was real, Ariel should be dead. She’s not, but her mother has disappeared, there are bruises on her neck and the hideous beast in the photo looks frighteningly familiar.  

You can’t send police into a tunnel that doesn’t exist after a villain they can’t see, so when shadow demons kidnap her mother, Ariel has to mount the rescue mission herself.  Hot on the trail, she enters a hidden layer of reality only to find that the demons are hunting her, and they feed on fear. Ariel must defeat them before they kill her and enslave her mother. But how do you kill terrifying demons when your fear makes them stronger?

A quirky old guide teaches her how to locate and unleash her inner power, and while battling hallucinogenic mist, treacherous terrain, murderous earth spirits and self-doubt, she falls in love with Nick, a Warrior whose power is more than either of them can handle.  Ariel’s journey challenges her perception, tests her awareness and takes her deep into her heart and mind to confront, and ultimately transcend, her fear and anger.


What readers are saying


‘I have read a lot of fantasy and I consider this outstanding. It is so exciting and surprising that I didn’t want to put it down. I could never guess what would happen next. It’s a great adventure story bursting with wonder and magic and has an excellent ending.’ Geoffry Beatson.

‘Newland weaves another fantastic tale of supernatural amazement and peril. This story was filled with symbolism and allegory. Dealing with the very real problem of evil, this is no light-hearted, meaningless read . . . Lethal Inheritance was a fantastic and fun read with lots of action and truly spectacular imagery. The emotional lives of the main characters were honest and tumultuous, drawing the reader in.’ Kate Policani, author.

‘In this exciting allegorical YA urban fantasy/magical realism novel, author Tahlia Newland weaves philosophical questions about perception, fear, compassion and love into a fast-paced fantasy adventure that is a highly entertaining and metaphysically fascinating tale for readers of all ages.’ Krisi Keley, author.

‘Fast paced and full of adventure, this story has a wide appeal. Tahlia offers strong characters in a well constructed world. A theme she continues throughout her writing focuses on self respect, self reliance and mental strength.  This book was a delight to read.’ Annie Evett ‘Lethal Inheritance was engrossing from the earliest pages with original characters, plots and settings. The pace doesn’t slow throughout the novel, which made me continually want more and hungry for the next book. I loved the Gimps, in fact I loved the whole concept of the book and especially the little challenges throughout, such as the Lures, Reeds and Shifting Stones.’ Racheal Gillespie.

‘Lethal Inheritance has a unique blend of spirituality, philosophy and magical realism (or realistic magic) . . . a fun read, seamlessly layered with philosophical themes adding depth to the adventure, with engaging characters and evil antagonists, a bit of humour and romance and great action sequences’  Kevin Berry, author.

Purchase Links The prequel short story, including chapter one is FREE. Download links here. US Kindle Store UK Kindle Store Kobo Store Apple ibook store Barnes and Noble

Excerpt


Chapter 1—Abduction

A strange black shape flittered past the window.  It could have been someone in a hooded cloak silhouetted against the street light, except that it appeared to glide rather than walk, and no one could possibly be on the side path of Ariel’s house in fancy dress.

Despite the balmy evening, a flash of cold shivered down Ariel’s spine. She raced to the window, stuck her head outside and looked down the path. Whatever it was had disappeared into the darkness—if it had been there at all. Ariel suspected it was merely the result of tired eyes and an overworked brain.

She slid the window closed, turned her back on the mystery and glared at the books strewn across the dining room table. Tension squeezed her skull. Its cause, her Maths book, lay open, its jumbled symbols exposed by the stark circle of light cast by the reading lamp. She slumped into the chair and switched off the too-revealing beam. It only illuminated her never-ending work load.

The street light cast an eerie glow into the old dining room. The wooden sideboard, almost invisible in the dark, hugged the wall, and the chairs clung to the table like shipwrecked sailors to the remains of their battered ship. They floated, but she sunk. Darkness closed in around her and dragged her down with the weight of final exams only two weeks away. It wasn’t fair. She deserved a life. Something, anything, other than exams.

‘What are you doing in the dark?’ Ariel’s mother’s voice cut through the gloom as light cut the darkness and exposed the room in all its tatty glory.

Ariel blinked and spun to face her mother. ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing,’ she replied with satisfaction.

Her mother, Nadima, leaned through the doorway, one hand resting on the light switch. Her straight fair hair swung around her shoulders and framed a worn but pretty face. Her eyes were a little red, but it was the first of September, she’d probably been crying, and Ariel knew better than to mention the unmentionable.

‘Are you all right?’ Nadima asked.

‘Fine.’ If you don’t include imagining things. ‘I’m over it. That’s all. Sick to death of all of this.’ Ariel swept her hand across the table and knocked the books to the floor with a clatter.

The corners of Nadima’s mouth curled slightly but never made it into a smile. ‘You’re just tired. You need a break and some apple crumble.’ 

The thought of dessert made Ariel’s smile large enough for both of them.

‘Come and get it while it’s hot,’ Nadima called as she left the room.

Ariel heaved herself out of her chair and followed her mother down the gloomy hall into the kitchen/living room at the back of the old Federation style house. The white walls and copious light in the renovation lifted her spirits the moment she crossed the threshold, and the smell of hot apples and cinnamon drew an appreciative rumble from her stomach.

She caught sight of herself mirrored in the wall of sliding doors that opened onto the veranda and leafy garden. Her ghostly auburn-haired reflection, clad in lumpy sweater and jeans, echoed the sense she had of herself as an insubstantial form floating through an illusion called life. Jaded at seventeen, she thought dryly. 

Nadima lifted a bundle of old towels from a box on the floor and deposited it on her photo-strewn desk on the other side of the room.

‘Not another one,’ Ariel said with a hint of a whine.

‘How could I say no?’ Nadima replied as she unwrapped the bundle and revealed a bright-eyed baby wombat. ‘He’s so cute. Aren’t you Spud?’

Ariel screwed up her nose. ‘Ew.’ Cute sure, but the smell . . . at least this one had hair already. ‘I refuse to do night duty.’

‘Oh, darling. I wouldn’t expect you to,’ Nadima replied.

Famous last words, Ariel thought. As soon as her mother got too tired from getting up every two hours to feed him, Ariel would have to step in, or suffer a horribly grumpy mother. The last orphaned wombat they’d taken in had ended up in one of Nadima’s photo-shoots. Ariel’s favourite was a Photoshopped image of a woman in an evening gown lounging on a giant wombat as if he were a sofa.

She spooned dessert onto a plate, added some ice cream, stuffed a glorious spoonful in her mouth and watched her mother change the wombat’s makeshift pouch. Ariel liked his name. Spud. It suited his potato shape. He wriggled and waved his paws, his soft belly and innocent face a stark contrast to the lethal claws, a little like the unease that raked beneath the calm exterior of Ariel’s life.

Nadima gathered the re-swaddled wombat in her arms, picked up a doll-sized baby bottle, stuck it in Spud’s mouth and began pacing. While Spud tugged on the teat, Ariel sat at the breakfast bar and munched on the stewed apple and its scrumptious crunchy topping. A strange feeling rustled up her spine, a sense that someone watched her. She peered warily through the glass sliders and scanned the garden.

At first, nothing. Then two red spots, like fiery eyes, penetrated the darkness and raised goose-bumps. A very large dog? More likely that stupid kid from down the street with laser pens. But the red spots disappeared too fast for Ariel to be sure she’d even seen them. She leapt up and pulled the curtains. The creepy feeling disappeared, but she’d have words with that kid at the bus stop tomorrow. He had no right skulking about in their garden.

The wombat sucked on in a steady rhythm but Nadima stopped pacing, her knuckles white where she gripped the bottle. Had she sensed something too? ‘I think we should leave early,’ she said.

‘What?’ Ariel’s spoon stopped an inch from her mouth.

‘The camping trip. Let’s leave tomorrow morning.’ Nadima plonked the now empty bottle on the bench. 

Ariel lowered her spoon. ‘No way, I’ve got training after school tomorrow. There’s a race coming up, remember? I’m planning to beat Molly Gainsbrough in the eight hundred metres.’

Nadima pursed her lips, hugged the wombat tighter and patted his back. ‘You’d win the fencing medal if you went back to it.’

Ariel grimaced. ‘Give it up, Mum, I’d rather run than stick a blade in someone.’

Nadima sighed. ‘Fine, we’ll go Friday.’

‘Why?’

‘We’ll make it a long weekend. We could both do with the extra day.’

Ariel frowned. What was going on? Her mother never let her skip school. But why complain? ‘Fine. Where are we going?’

Nadima stared into space and began rocking the wombat like a baby. ‘Somewhere new. It’s a surprise.’ 

‘New? What’s new within a two hundred kilometre radius?’

‘You’ll see.’ Her clipped tone signalled the end of the conversation. Ariel let it go. She figured she’d find out soon enough and, although she loved immersing herself in nature for a whole weekend, right now, even talking about walking for miles with a pack on her back was just plain exhausting.

She licked her bowl while Nadima stowed the wombat back in the cardboard box on the floor. ‘Sleep well, Spud.’ She turned to Ariel and opened her arms. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart.’

Ariel’s heart ached at the sadness in her mother’s eyes. Even the comforting embrace they shared couldn’t make up for the absence that plagued their lives.

Ariel’s mobile rang. She broke the embrace and grabbed her phone from the coffee table. ‘Hi, Tamara.’ 

‘Love you,’ Nadima mouthed.

Ariel waved her mother goodnight and turned towards the door.

‘Hey, guess what?’ Tamara sounded pretty hyped up.

‘A walrus is sitting on your cat.’ Ariel flicked on the hall light and wandered towards her room.

‘What? Oh, shut up. Mitch’s asked me to go to the formal.’ Ariel smiled.

‘I told you he would.’

‘Yeah, well, he might not have. What about you and Mathew and the movies?’

Ariel shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. He wants to see some blood-thirsty thriller. Yuk.’

‘Hey, he’s hot. You’ve got to make a few concessions.’

‘He’s also a surfer, Tamara, and I’m not cut out to be a surfie chick. Freckles, remember.’ She walked into the saffron walled sanctuary of her bedroom and turned on the light.

‘He’s also a really hot runner.’

‘Duh! That’s how I met him.’

‘Oh yeah. Hey, you could go jogging together.’

‘Red-faced and sweaty is not my best look, Tamara.’

‘You might have a point there. But, look, he really likes you and I thought you liked him.’

Ariel shrugged. ‘Not that much.’ She kicked the pile of clothes on the floor, salvaged her pyjamas, shook them out and threw them on the bed as she talked.

‘You’re not scared, are you? About his reputation, I mean.’

‘No, I’m not scared. I just don’t want to be his girlfriend.’

‘Yeah, well, I suppose it’s not surprising that you’re a bit slow with guys. I mean, no brothers and all.’

Ariel opened her mouth but Tamara cut in. ‘Whoops, Mum’s yelling. I gotta go. See ya tomorrow.’

‘Okay, bye.’ Ariel switched off her phone, walked to the window and stared into the night.

Slow with guys, huh? Sure, she was cautious. With good reason. She’d seen girls fall head over heels in love and land on their faces with their brains turned to mush. Mind you, Tamara was right about the lack of males in her life. She and her mother never had a man in their house unless he’d come to fix something. She couldn’t even remember her father, and her mother never dated. Fifteen years after the event, her mother still wouldn’t tell her exactly how her father had died.

Agitation simmered in her cells and fuelled a growing urge to rock whatever boat she was in, even to dive in and see what was underneath. But Ariel didn’t know where to dive, what into, or how. She felt disconnected, unreal, as if she only floated on the surface of life and beneath her fathoms of dark water remained unexplored.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was thinking that nothing major would change in a hurry. Two hours later, she discovered she was wrong.

***

Ariel jolted awake to the brutal sound of splintering wood and a resounding crash at the side door.

‘Ariel. Run!’ Her mother’s scream sliced through the fog in Ariel’s brain.

Her eyes flew open. She catapulted out of bed and stumbled towards the door in confusion. A series of thuds came up the hallway, getting closer, as if someone was kicking all the doors open. Ariel grabbed her fleecy Ugg boots, opened the window and jumped out just before her bedroom door crashed open.

She flung herself under a leafy shrub and pushed back against the fence. Bright street light spilled onto the side of her red brick house, but none penetrated her hiding place in the fence’s shadow. Even so, her heart pounded and every muscle in her body tensed in fear. She peered through a gap in the leaves and shivered. 

Something black and vaguely human-shaped struggled out the window, cursing in a voice as spiky as ice shards. Its skin, hanging in folds like the fabric of a long hooded cloak, rippled as it turned. White flames flicked, like snake tongues, from two slits in its hideous face, and a thin-lipped mouth curled into a sneer. The claws on its long loose arms flexed and unflexed as if warming up for a fight, and it stunk like rotten potatoes.

Ariel froze, eyes wide, struggling to comprehend the creature before her. Nothing like this existed in her world. It had to be a dream. But it felt horribly real.

A chilling voice from down the path raised the hairs on the back of Ariel’s neck and the creature swung towards the sound. ‘The spawn’s run off. I say we take this one and come back for the other.’

The owner of the voice, another creature, came into view, eyes blazing red. Ariel gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound. But the beast’s attention fixed on Ariel’s mother who hung limply in the red-eyed creature’s arms, her hands tied behind her back. Something black and shiny gagged her. 

Ariel’s world began to unravel. This could not be happening, and yet, it was. She stared at the impossible creature and one word only penetrated the numbness of her mind. It rose as if from a long forgotten memory—demon.

‘Stand and walk,’ the red-eyed demon growled as he set her on her feet, ‘or I’ll stick you with this.’ It raised a clawed index finger in front of Nadima’s face and the claw grew into a silvery talon the length of Ariel’s forearm. The fiery line of the creature’s mouth curled with sadistic pleasure.

Nadima jerked into life and ran, but the white-eyed demon threw a noose over her head. It jolted her to a stop and turned her scream into a choked gurgle. 

Ariel pressed her lips together, stifling the urge to cry out.

The red-eyed demon held its gleaming talon to Nadima’s throat just above where her white-knuckled hands gripped the noose, her eyes wide and glassy. ‘Try that again and we’ll forget our meal and send you to hell instead.’

‘Feed us,’ the white-eyed demon hissed and placed its talon on the side of her neck.

Nadima froze. Her face reddened and tears seeped from her eyes. The tip of Red-Eye’s talon caressed her throat and came to rest on the other side of her neck. A rumbling sound emerged from the demons’ throats, a kind of demonic purr. Their bodies grew, their eyes flickered more brightly and their satisfied smirks bore a perverse resemblance to bliss.

Ariel’s stomach churned. Fear numbed her mind and froze her in place.

The larger, red-eyed demon eventually removed its talon from Nadima’s neck and jabbed her in the back. She flinched. ‘Walk,’ he growled. The other demon yanked on the rope and pulled her towards the road like an unwilling dog on a leash. Ariel’s mother stumbled after them as if in a daze.

As soon as they’d gone, Ariel pulled on her Ugg boots, her fingers trembling, and crawled out from under the bush. What now? Police? By the time they got here, her mother would have disappeared. She had to find out where the demons were taking her and, if possible, free her. But how? She didn’t even have a weapon. Or did she?

Ariel raced down the path, through the shattered door and into the kitchen where she grabbed the largest, sharpest knife before running onto the street after the demons. She saw them several houses away, heading towards the hill at the end of the street. You can do this, she told herself, then dashed after them. Past the unseeing eyes of curtained windows and the silent mouths of closed doors, she followed them, being careful to stay out of sight. Her neighbours were probably all asleep. No one to see, no one to speak of it, no one to help, even if they could.

The only sound came from a party in the Thompson’s backyard. There, voices laughed and talked loudly over the pounding music that streamed from the garden. She wondered if she should go in and ask for help, but figured that, no doubt tipsy by now, they would just laugh at her, and before she got anyone to take her seriously, Nadima could have disappeared, or worse.

At the cul-de-sac at the end of the road, the demons took the dimly lit path between the houses, then the footbridge over the stream. Ariel hurried after them and crouched out of sight behind the bridge railings. The weight of impending doom settled on Ariel as the threesome left the path, and Nadima stumbled over the rough ground lit only by the silver light of the waning moon. The three stopped at the base of the hill before a dense shadow so dark that it seemed to suck all light into its blackness. All light and all hope.

Despite the warm night, Ariel’s skin turned cold. But if she didn’t do something, who would? She dashed to a large rock and hid behind it, her heart thumping.

Suddenly, Nadima came to life. She ducked to the side, yanked the rope out of the white-eyed demon’s hands and fled. But Red-Eyes spun and tackled her, then locked his long arms around her and pulled her to her feet. She jabbed her elbows backwards and kicked hard, but the gruesome creature didn’t flinch. Nadima struggled uselessly as he dragged her into what Ariel could now see was a jagged hole in the hillside.

Panic hit, hot and blinding. Ariel raced towards them, knife at the ready, but White-Eyes leapt from the shadows and grabbed her wrist with one clawed hand.

‘Got ya,’ he growled, eyes flaring.

Giveaway: a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Angelfire by Hana Peach: Excerpt and Giveaway


Angelfire (Dark Angel 1) by Hanna Peach


Title: Angelfire
Series: Dark Angel
Author: Hanna Peach
Available: November 22, 2012
Format: E-book
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
Length: ~90,000 words
Review formats: .Mobi, .ePUB, .PDF
Blurb:
An army of angels walk among us. They have kept us safe and ignorant, so far.
Earthbound for centuries and ruled by the Elders, they have established hidden cities, a society and The Code: obey your Elders, kill all demons, eliminate Rogue-angels, protect the mortals, remain hidden. Their warriors are the ungifted earthborn angels armed with blades and the ‘borrowed magics’ of distilled angel-blood tattoos.
Alyxandria is a young warrior with a fondness for customized knives and illegal night-races. If only she could overcome the taint of her parents who abandoned her to become Rogues.
When Alyx saves Israel, a gifted mortal with a past, she is forbidden to see him again. But she can’t help herself, drawn to him through their Guardian-bond, an ancient and long-forgotten bond; if he dies, she dies.
An encounter with a handsome Rogue leaves Alyx questioning all she has been taught to believe. Alyx begins to dig into the Elders’ secrets. Two thousand years of secrets that begin with the death of the Archangel Raphael. She is not prepared when she uncovers an Elder’s dark plan.
Somewhere on earth is a key to unlock hell. Somewhere on earth are pieces of an amulet that controls Lucifer and his army. Somehow Israel is the link and now both sides are after him. Who can Alyx trust when Good and Evil is no longer clear?
The war for earth begins.
EXCERPT:
This is going to sound crazy.” She presses her palm to her forehead.
He laughs softly. “Remember who you’re talking too.”
Right,” she says. “I think it’s time I admitted some things to you. But you have to promise not to freak out or get angry before I finish, okay?”
Okay.”
Remember the last time we met, you asked me how I happened to come by the alley in time to save your life…”
A lucky coincidence.”
It wasn’t. I knew you would be there, I knew you were being attacked.”
Israel frowns. “How?”
Alyx takes a deep breath - no turning back now - and begins to tell him about her visions of him. Then to prove she isn’t lying she describes each one.
Let me get this straight,” he says. “You see things through my eyes?”
Essentially, yes. That’s how I knew where to find you then. And tonight.”
Do you hear my thoughts as well?”
Just whatever thoughts you have at the time.”
That is...” his eyes blaze at her, “...so frickin’ cool.”
Her mouth parts as she sucks in air, realizing that she has been holding her breath. “You think so?”
Think about it Alyx. You have been inside my body, felt my heart beating as if it were your own, felt how I feel, thought as I thought. You know what it’s like for me.” He leans forward as he speaks, grabbing her hands. “You don’t just know me, you know me.”
Alyx swallows, hard. His eyes have a way of making her feel like she is underdressed. Alyx wonders for a moment whether he can see inside her as she does him.
About the Author:
Hanna Peach
A writer of fantastical things, especially stories with fangs, magic or wings.
I want to tell you tales that will rip away the glamour from your life, keep you running and fighting and gasping long past the devil’s hour and maybe, just maybe, reality will look a little bit different when you return.
Sit with me around this witchlight. Let me tell you a story.


Find out more about her at:
Giveaway!
One lucky winner shall receive a digital copy of the book (in Kindle or ePUB format).

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Above Ground Tour: Excerpt and Review


Above Ground by A. M. Harte


Summary: The first glimpse of sun may be her last.

When Lilith Gray goes above ground for the first time, she hardly expects to stay there — much less be trapped on the surface with no way home.

Hunted by trackers and threatened by the infected, Lilith is on the run, desperate to return underground. Her only hope for survival lies with a taciturn werewolf with a dark agenda of his own.

Lilith’s old carefree life has been reduced to one choice:

Adapt. Or die trying.

About the Author: A.M. Harte writes twisted speculative fiction, such as the post-apocalyptic Above Ground and the zombie love anthology Hungry For You. She is excellent at missing deadlines, has long forgotten what ‘free time’ means, and is utterly addicted to chocolate. She lives in London, a city not half as foggy as some seem to think.
Buy the Book: Amazon (US) and Amazon (UK).
Excerpt: 
Emma sank onto one of the cots, her line of questioning derailed by King’s casual comment. Lilith had been above ground for two hours. Who knew what had happened in that time? Who knew how many people had died?

“The theatre has been secured,” King continued, “and all vampires exterminated.”

Emma bit on her tongue—bit hard—using the pain to push through her emotions. There was no time for shock or disbelief; she shoved the feelings into the smallest corner of her mind and focused on what truly mattered: uncovering the truth.

She swallowed, forced her voice to remain even. “Who do you work for? Precision Horizons, the DEI, or both?”

“You should rest,” he said. “It’s been a long afternoon.”

His avoidance of the question only made her more determined. Emma crossed her arms. “You have the DEI uniform and the PH logo. I’m thinking you work for both, which leads me to believe that PH isn’t quite the innocent technology company it pretends to be.”

He shrugged. “There are many conspiracy theorists who would share that opinion.”

“And what is the truth?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” She stood, the adrenaline making her legs tremble. “You may not care but I do, Mr King. I’m in prison and my best friend’s in danger. Of course it matters!”

This time he looked at her—properly looked—and seemed to finally see her as something more than a schoolgirl. “King,” he said, abrupt. “Just King.”

But Emma wasn't done. “Speaking of Lilith, why are you so interested in her? She wasn’t even supposed to come to the theatre because her mother forbade—”

The dawning realisation was a bitter taste at the back of Emma’s throat. The special ops, the surveillance room, the tracking device they’d implanted in Lilith....“You knew,” she accused. “You didn’t just think the attack would happen, you knew it would.”

King’s face grew cold. He stood still, back straight, head tilted to one side. He had enviable cheekbones, a delicate nose and generous lips, but the hard edge in his blue eyes belied the femininity of his features. His was an alien, frightening beauty, and Emma could not help but shrink away.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” he said slowly, eyes flat as he appraised her. “I thought you were cleverer than that.”

Review: Disclaimer: I received this book from the author in exchange for a review. 

An intriguing book that combines myth and science, magic and technology, and fantasy and dystopia.

The world Harte has created is fascinating. She does an incredible job of creating a fascinating world where technology, science, and a dystopian world exists underground and magic, supernatural beings and a fantasy world exists above ground. Each world would be fine on its own, but Harte combines the two. It brings up a lot of questions and I very eager for the answers. I personally feel more partial to the underground world because I am a big fan of dystopian fiction. The connection between the affected and those who live underground is a tantalizing one. 

I must admit to being wary of Silver and Lilith's relationship at first because of the bond that forms between them. I dislike reading most fiction about werewolves since I don't like the idea of soul mates and that occurs too often when werewolves are involved. Luckily, they are both wary of the bond and even dislike it at times like logical beings. I was not expecting the ending, but it's always nice when the author doesn't take the easy way out. I hope to see more of Emma, Liam, and the underground world in the next book.

Rating:






Recommendation: I would recommend this book to those that enjoy werewolves, fantasy, dystopia, or any combination of the aforementioned items.

Giveaway:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Saturday, November 17, 2012

The City of the Mirage by Jerome Brooke

The City of the Mirage by Jerome Brooke is now on Amazon. The Divine Astarte is one of the last of her race. Her kind seeded many worlds with life. One of these realms was the planet of the Warrior.

The City of the Mirage in a dark fantasy.

Astarte is feared, not loved by her people - she is the Destroyer of Worlds. She is served by a legion of shield maidens. These cruel warriors are feared by all. They commit all manner of atrocities, such as impalement.

The people of her empire are also terrorized by the Beast Men. They are the offspring of members of an alien race and the daughters of men. They feed on human flesh. They use captive women to breed more of their kind.

Jerome Brooke was born in Indiana. He now lives in the Kingdom of Siam. He is married to Jira, a princess of the lost Kingdom of Nan.

Brooke seeks to write texts that are suitable as eBooks. Readers may desire to print out chapters or short stories. Texts that can be read in a single evening are often best.

Series of stories and books are a good option. The Conan stories are a good example. They can be read as solo stories. Read in a series, they have some of the qualities of a novel or narrative.

Jerome lives in Chonburi, near Pattaya. He has written a number of other books and stores in the Divine Astarte series - and a number of related series and cycles. Many short stores in the series have appeared in Welcome to Wherever and other magazines.

The Astarte and related series share the same setting. The stories take place far into the future. The stars have been seeded with life by the race of Astarte. She and her kind are worshiped as gods by the people of their realm. Many of the books and stories share the same characters. Read in sequence, they often form a narrative. I think of the series as a hybrid. The chapters were published as short stories in magazines, and can be read alone. Read in sequence, they form a novella or cohesive book. The same was true of the Conan series of Robert E. Howard or the Sherlock home stories.


jeromevbrooke@yahoo.com

Excerpt:
The muse stood at the side of the blind bard.  She whispered in his ear, telling him the history of the demigod, of the Conqueror. 
Myth of the Lady of the Myst, II, vii.           
The mirage appeared very close.  I could see the white towers of the city, as they shimmered on the horizon.  I wiped the sweat from my brow with my sleeve, and took a sip of water from my canteen.
I looked over my shoulder.  I could no longer see the enemy chase cars. They had been in pursuit since last night, when my plane went down.  I had parachuted from my wounded craft, and landed in the desert. After I landed, I fled into the empty waste, hoping that my beacon would be heard by our rescue.
I resumed walking.  Perhaps I had come all this way only to die of thirst in this wasteland.  I checked my canteen.  Almost empty.
I tried my radio once more.  Nothing – not even static.
I continued walking in the light breeze.  I soon came to a boulder field.  I walked among the rocks for a few minutes, until I came to the edge of a ravine.  I glanced over the edge, and saw a fast moving stream below.
I climbed down the steep slope to the floor of the ravine.  I filled my canteen, and pulled off my flight suit.  I plunged into the water, and rinsed off the dust.
I sat upon a rock near the edge of the stream, to rest for a time.  I soon pulled on my flightsuit, and began to follow the stream.  As I walked, a strange blue mist began to form, near the ground.  The mist persisted, even tho a breeze began to stir the air.
I came to a large bolder jutting out into the stream.  I walked around it, and saw movement out of the corner of my eye.  I turned, and saw a woman of middle years stepping out of the stream.
Hello,”   she said with a smile.  She spoke with a heavy accent.
Hello,” I replied, and smiled.  She had black hair, and dark, olive skin.  She did not seem to mind that she had nothing on, in the strong breeze.  This was all passing strange.
I am the Lady of the Myst.  Are you lost, Warrior?”
Well, yes.  I am heading west,”  I managed to collect myself and say.
She pointed down the ravine. “Follow the stream.  It leads to the plain.  If you see anyone else, they may help you.”
I nodded.
I must leave you now.  But you will see me soon, when you are ready.”  She came up to me, and wrapped her arms around me.  She kissed, and gently bit my neck.  I felt a little dizzy, and also felt a strong attraction to her.
Am I Enthralled by the Lady, the beautiful Lady Without Mercy?”  I asked myself.
--
November 2012