Journeys: The Archers of Saint Sebastian by Jeanne Roland

 

Reviewers are raving, calling this book "swoonworthy" and "one of the best books I've read in a long time." Take a peek inside this historical fiction, Journeys: The Archers of Saint Sebastian by Jeanne Roland.

Read Chapter 3 from Charlie's Story by Ann R. McNicol

 

Fourteen-year-old Samantha spends her days exploring the shallow reef behind her island home. With her world locked in a battle against rising seas, scientists deploy genetically modified corals to rebuild reefs and protect the coastline. No one expects the reefs to be a hotbed of evolution, but they are.

When an octopus flows off a rock in her lagoon, Samantha is startled. When he purposefully arranges pieces of coral on the sand, trying to communicate, she is shocked. How she responds may determine the fate of life on Earth.

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Read chapter one.

Read chapter two.

Read chapter 3:

Chapter 3~ Chance Encounter 

I examined a cluster of fragmented star coral colonies on a clear, cool November day. The sky was deep blue and cloudless, and the sunlight made the colonies seem to sparkle. While I counted the coral fragments, a Caribbean reef octopus flowed off a rock in the knee-deep water and settled onto the sand in front of me. I tried to hold perfectly still to avoid spooking him. Then, he started arranging the bits of coral I had just been counting. The sand in front of me soon held a curious coral and rock fragments pattern. The octopus was small, with patches of green and blue light flashing across his head and arms. His two large expressive brown eyes seemed to look straight at me. 

I don’t remember seeing an octopus in the lagoon before. It’s rare to see one in the open. They typically stay hidden, aided by an ability to change colors to match their surroundings. But this one looked like he was posing for me. I used my phone and captured a series of photos as he moved pieces of coral. What should I call you? Watching him work, the name Charlie popped into my head. Charlie was the name of the bird we had when I was little. It seemed to fit, for some reason, although this Charlie was nothing like a bird. A pattern of iridescent colors, reds, blues, and greens moved across his body as he worked his way through the rock rubble. 

I expected Charlie to make a dash and disappear into the rocks at any moment. Instead, he continued to move toward me. Staying as still as I could, I recorded his movements and an eerie sequence of changing colors that moved across his skin. At one point, Charlie was only about two feet from me, and I had to remind myself that the reef octopus is not a poisonous or dangerous animal. I didn’t move away but stayed perfectly still and watched him. I like to think that Dad would have been proud of me. 

Charlie was an invertebrate, lacking a backbone or any bones. His large head, big expressive eyes, and elegant flowing movements made him feel entirely alien at close quarters. And here he was, purposefully moving the pieces of coral I had been counting only minutes earlier! He was obviously aware of me. Was he using some kind of sign language to try to “talk” to me? It felt like it. Colors danced across his body as his expressive eyes continued examining his design on the sand. Suddenly he looked up at me. I blinked, and Charlie was gone. 

I wished Dad were here for the billionth time. He would have all sorts of information to share about the Caribbean reef octopus, about what Charlie had been doing and why. Dad wasn’t here—I’d need to find my own explanations. 

I’d been in the lagoon for almost four hours. It was past time to head home. I walked through the water, avoiding scattered clusters of pink and blue corals and purple sea fans. Before long, the corals gave way to a blanket of white sand in ankle-deep water. I stepped onto the beach, heading away from the shore and toward a boardwalk. 

Why do we have a boardwalk when few people live on this island? Because the sea oats, grasses, and cabbage palms keep sand from blowing away. Even a few trips over the coastal dunes can cause lots of damage, so we stay on the boardwalk and avoid trampling the plants. The raised platform took me over dunes, across marshland, and upward into the shrubs and forest of the island’s center. Our house sat at the highest elevation on the island, raised even higher by stilts. The setting sun over the house painted the sky orange and red. It was almost dinner time. I picked up my pace. 

Placing my palm on the identification plate opened the gate to a staircase zigzagging in a switchback pattern up to the front door. Wood scraped my hands as I pulled on the railing, working my way upward. Platforms broke the twenty-foot climb and provided places to rest. Pausing at the first platform, I examined the dry ground below. There was no evidence of saltwater flooding on the land or benches and storage bins. 

Memories haunted me from the last flooding. That was when the Institute moved us, almost four years ago. The ground had grown so wet we were sloshing our way to the boardwalk. Now I make a daily wish. Let the ground stay dry. Let there be no more flooding. If we move, I will lose the reef I explored with Dad. I try not to think about it. I wasn’t sure I could handle moving again. 

I reached our front door as daylight was fading. Mom and Jerry were at the table, waiting for me so they could serve dinner. They both have blond hair and light skin, so they just didn’t look like they should be living on an island. I looked like Dad with curly black hair and skin that always looked tan. Right now, Mom looked annoyed. Yeah, I’m late again. I stepped inside. 

Mom put a plate down on the table. “I wish you would make it back earlier. I worry about you being out after the sun sets.” 

I put my bag down and helped myself to a towel. “Sorry, I was off the reef way before sunset. Guess I lost track of time looking at the base under the house.” 

Her expression changed, and some of the anger disappeared. She shook her head and continued placing plates down for dinner. “Samantha, you don’t need to worry about that. Honest, I watch the data, and I’ll warn if anything changes. Right now, everything seems stable.” 

“I know.” 

“So, is the reef still there?” Mom asked, trying for a lighter topic while placing silverware on the table. Her eyes had a faint laughing twinkle to them, so I knew she wasn’t too mad. 

“The reef is awesome,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping into the room I share with Jerry, and closing the door behind me to change into dry clothes. “I’ll be out in a second.” 

Once dry and sitting in front of my computer, I started a search. Dad showed me how to set it up to retrieve non-technical articles first, then a second pass through the literature to identify scientific journal articles. I could thin down my reading later. The results would be waiting for me long before dinner ended. I opened the door and walked back into the food prep corner. 

Mom and Jerry were standing by the counter. Jerry kept picking up silverware and putting it back down again. He was agitated about something. What’s going on? 

“Jerry, don’t tell me you’re mad at me too. I’m not that late.” I filled glasses with water and brought them to the table. 

He followed me and said in a quiet voice, “Mom was really worried.” 

“OK, OK, I’ll be more careful about the time. Don’t nag.” 

I looked around at the large great room, the heart of our house. It was right next to the food prep corner and had comfortable seats, a ceilingmounted projector, and a white wall that served as a theater screen. We watched the news, and sometimes movies. Jerry watched lots of movies. He said he was going to make films when he grew up. I was particularly proud of our lounge since Mom and Dad has taken my suggestions about arranging the furniture. 

Mom was sitting in the lounge corner. She looked up when I walked over. I think she was waiting for a timer to signal when dinner was ready. 

I sat down next to her and asked, “Mom, what do you know about octopus’ behavior?” 

She looked up from her journal. I had interrupted her reading. 

“I saw what looked like a Caribbean reef octopus on the soft corals in the lagoon today.” I continued. “It seemed like it was arranging pieces of coral. I don’t think I’ve seen an octopus in the lagoon before. I took a few pictures.” 

“Well, the reef octopus isn’t rare. Sorry, I haven’t read anything about their behavior, but I’m sure there’s a lot of literature out there.” 

“I’m running a search while we have dinner,” I said, glancing at the paper she was reading. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she said, closing the journal and placing it on the counter. 

“I’ve never seen an octopus,” Jerry said. “Can I see the pictures you took?” 

Mom jumped in, “We can look after dinner. I’d like to see them too.” 

Dinner was good, or I was just hungry—everything tasted great. Mom was a good cook. Living on an island made meat way too expensive to buy, but Mom’s vegetarian food rocked. Tonight, we’d had a quinoa dish with peanuts, onion, and fresh vegetables from our garden. I thought she used Indian spices. Jerry liked it too. At the end of the meal, there were no leftovers. 

“Mom, that was great,” I said. 

“Thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated.” 

Jerry mopped up the last of his serving with bread and said, “Maybe Sam can catch some fish while she’s on the reef.” He pointed to the casserole dish. “This was good, but I miss the fish Dad used to bring back.” 

I laughed. “Jerry, if I caught the fish that are on the reef flat, Mom would need ten of them to make dinner. All I see are the small fry.” 

“How did Dad bring fish home?” 

“He took the skiff over the edge onto the reef slope. I was with him a few times. It was cool.” 

Jerry looked disappointed but didn’t say anything. 

“Mom, if you let me take the skiff out over the reef slope, I could catch some nice size grouper. Dad just used a drop line. I’m sure I could do it. Jerry is right. Fish would make dinner better.” 

“No way in the universe I’m letting you take that skiff into open water. If you remember, Dad took a pontoon boat when you guys went on the slope. The water weather can change fast, and that skiff is not stable. We’re fine without the fish.” 

Jerry sighed. He knew we lost this one. 

Mom perked up and said, “Let me have a look at the pictures you took today.” 

I plugged my phone into the projector and navigated to the videos and pictures. “Watch the colors moving across his tentacles and head,” I said as I started playing a segment of Charlie arranging coral fragments on the sand. 

“Samantha, show that again.” Mom said. Then she asked for my phone and played the video stopping the motion at several places. 

I was waiting for her to say something. Eventually, I broke down and asked, “What do you think?” 

“I don’t know what to make of it.” 

“It’s cool, Sam.” Jerry’s voice trailed off. It seemed he wanted to ask me something else. 

“What is it?” 

He looked out the window avoiding my eyes. “You spend all day on the reef. Can’t you take me with you?” 

“What brings this on? Why not go on your own?” 

He fidgeted with my phone looking at the picture of Charlie then looking down at the floor. Then he said, “Mom won’t let me go out on the reef alone. Not like she lets you. Come on, I can help.” 

I looked over at Mom, who was carefully looking at her calendar. Was I wrong about his lack of interest? Dad never got to take him out and show him the reef, but I could. He sat at the table quietly, facing away from me.

Mom said, “Jerry, if you want to go on the reef flat near shore, I would be OK with that.” 

Mom was trying to let me off the hook, but this wasn’t a good idea. Dad showed me around. Jerry needed a guide too. 

“Mom, would it be OK if I take Jerry out to the lagoon? He’s older than I was when Dad started taking me, and he’s a good swimmer.” 

“Samantha, you’re out on the reef almost every day. I have no idea how you stay on top of your schoolwork, but you seem to be able to do it. I don’t want Jerry falling behind in school.” 

I usually did my schoolwork before going out to the reef. I set my alarm for six in the morning and was done by eight. Jerry didn’t get stuff quickly, and he seemed to take forever to get his assignments done, particularly in math. 

“I’ll be careful. I know Jerry needs time for school.” 

Mom looked at the two of us. “Let me think about it.” 

We knew this meant yes, but with conditions. Jerry positively beamed and gave me a thumbs up. Was this a terrible idea? Well, Jerry wasn’t bad for a little brother. It would be OK. I decided to push Mom for a yes. 

“Mom, I could actually use a hand in the lagoon tomorrow. I want to do more filming, and having an extra pair of hands would make it easier. I promise not to stay out for more than two hours.” 

Mom relaxed her frown and tilted her head. I knew I had her. 

“It would be good for you to have someone with you.” 

Jerry had a big grin hearing this, but Mom glared at him. “There will be limits. We’ll start with two hours. And Jerry, I need to see you being productive with your schoolwork.” 

“I’ll start doing what Sam does—set the alarm for early morning.” 

“This is a big responsibility. I need to know when the two of you are going out.” 

“I can do that, Mom,” I said. 

“You need to keep your phone on you so I can call. I worry enough when you are out on your own. I will be doubly worried about the two of you.” 

I gave Jerry a thumbs up. “Can you give me two hours tomorrow? After that, I can work around your school schedule.” 

“I don’t have any scheduled classes tomorrow. I will log in early to get work done while you’re working on your classes. I’ll put more time in when we are back.” 

Mom gave him a look. “Make sure you do your work.” 

He looked happy, and I felt guilty that I hadn’t asked him before. 

“Samantha,” Mom started sounding thoughtful. “Getting back to your video, I haven’t spent much as time on the reef as you, and never studied biology. But that is a great video, and I think you should send it to Dr. Kelly. I think he will be interested in it.” 

“I think so too. I’ll send it after dinner.” 

“Do you want to take the ferry to the mainland? Dr. Kelly may be able to connect you with people who are working in this field.” 

“I don’t want to go to the Institute yet. Not till I make more observations, but I’ll send the video and ask for an opinion.” 

“Let me know when you want to book the ferry. When you go, there are some things I’d like you to pick up for me.” 

Dr. Kelly had worked with Dad at the Ocean Institute. He knew I was Dad’s unofficial assistant, so he didn’t treat me like a kid. And he knew a ton about coral reef ecosystems. I would send the video and see if he had any thoughts on what Charlie was doing. 

Dad trained me not to be lazy. He made me learn what I could on my own. So, I would start with the easy-to-read popular science magazines then follow up with peer-reviewed journals. The journals have the best information, even if the technical writing is hard to follow. The computer would have a list ready for me by now. 

I glanced at Jerry’s math notebook sitting on the counter. It looked like he was doing OK with it. Sometimes he needs me to help, but I liked that he tried to figure stuff out independently. I didn’t mind helping, but I wasn’t very good at it. Math came easy to me, but I didn’t know how to explain it to someone else. Then I saw Mom looking at Jerry and then at me. I knew what was coming next. 

“You know, most kids your age attend school on the mainland.” 

Mom was right. I should have been on the mainland attending school, and part of me wanted to go. But there was an idea I couldn’t get rid of. I was afraid that I’d be on the mainland, and the floods would come one day. If that happened, I might never see my reef again. 

Am I being irrational? Yes. The water didn’t care if I was here or on the mainland. My being here did nothing to keep the flooding from happening. But, living on the island, I went to the reef almost every day. If the floods started and the Institute moved us, I didn’t want to regret the time I’d lost by being away from the reef at school. And, really, being on the reef in my lagoon made me happy. Isn’t that important? 

“Mom, why are you trying to send me off to boarding school?” 

“Very funny. I will miss you. We would both miss you, but you would still be home for weekends. It would be good for you to be with people your age.” 

“Mom, I’m doing fine with my online classes. 

“I know you are doing well in your classes. I also know you’ve moved an awful lot for someone your age,” she said, looking thoughtful as she handed my phone back to me. 

“Try to think about it. You’ll need to go to school on the mainland sometime. You’re already running out of online classes.” 

Mom didn’t think much of online classes. On the other hand, Dad once told me he preferred online classes. He said when he took classes in person, he got bored. He said it seemed like some students needed things explained that were obvious to him. He’d found many classes tedious. I didn’t know if he was right or not, but I liked studying online because I could go as fast as I wanted.

“There are tons of online classes, and I like them. After this year, I’ll be able to take some online college classes.” 

“Sam, I know you’re smart. You have Dad’s brains. But there is more to high school than just classes. I want you to meet people and have a normal life.” 

It was hard to argue when I agreed with what the other person said. 

“You’re right, and I know you are. But I’m not ready to leave Habitat Eleven. I’m not ready to leave the reef, you, and Jerry, not yet anyway. Maybe I will feel better about it next year when I take college classes. I’ll send Dr. Kelly the video, and I’ll let you know when I need a ferry ticket to follow up.” I headed to my computer to see what the search had turned up.

About the author:

Ann R. McNicol grew up watching space launches and devouring science fiction. Scuba diving, exploring coral reefs and Florida beaches cemented her interest in science.

When not writing, she walks with her husband, bikes, camps, keeps up with her adult children and plays with their attention-demanding cats.

https://www.amazon.com/Ann-McNicol/e/B09TS32X5H/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

https://www.facebook.com/ann.mcnicol.98

I was compensated via Fiverr for sharing this post. I only share those books that I feel will be of interest to my readers.

Read chapter 2 from Charlie's Story by Ann R. NcNicol

 

Fourteen-year-old Samantha spends her days exploring the shallow reef behind her island home. With her world locked in a battle against rising seas, scientists deploy genetically modified corals to rebuild reefs and protect the coastline. No one expects the reefs to be a hotbed of evolution, but they are.

When an octopus flows off a rock in her lagoon, Samantha is startled. When he purposefully arranges pieces of coral on the sand, trying to communicate, she is shocked. How she responds may determine the fate of life on Earth.

Buy on Amazon

(affiliate link included)

Read chapter one.

Read chapter 2:

Chapter 2~ Samantha 

I should start at the beginning. My name is Samantha. I’m fourteen, and I live with Mom and my brother Jerry. I was born in 2035, eight years before the rising sea flooded the Atlantic coastline forcing mass evacuations. Some cities, like Miami, are now part of the ocean floor. The flood covered our house on Georgia’s coast, so we lived in our car for a while until we landed in a temporary tent city outside Savannah. Back then, all I wanted in life was a dry bed and regular meals. At the time, that was a lot to ask. 

I didn’t get a bed in the camp, but I did get a dry sleeping bag. It was better than trying to sleep in the car. Jerry was only four, and he shared a mattress with Mom and Dad. The camp was crowded, loud, and hot. I spent most nights awake listening to kids crying. Some days we got a hot meal, but mostly it was peanut butter sandwiches and a milk box. I missed Mom’s cooking. We didn’t know how long we would be at the camp or where we would go next. 

Then the Reef Restoration project recruited Dad as a biologist and Mom to record data on tides, currents, water temperature, and pH. They gave us a modular house on an island five miles off the mainland at a field station named Georgia Coastal Habitat Ten. It was great to have a place of our own again. The house was on the highest part of the island and raised on a platform. You needed to climb the stairs to get to the place, but you could see the ocean once you did. I had my own bed, and Mom cooked our meals. My school was online, which suited me just fine. We lived at Coastal Habitat Ten for eighteen months. Long enough for it to feel like home. Long enough to feel safe. 

But the water started rising again. At first, there were just a few high tides where the ground under the house got wet. Then, it got worse. Sometimes there was so much water that fish were swimming under the house. I couldn’t stop crying when they said we had to move. Dad tried to make me feel better. He said the Institute would take care of the move. But I started waking up in the middle of the night, thinking we were back at the tent camp and couldn’t get back to sleep. Mom started taking me to a doctor for depressed kids on the mainland. 

The Institute gave us boxes for our clothes and personal stuff a week before we were to move. We packed our boxes and had them ready when they came. They dismantled our house and moved it to another island. Mom described the houses as “KISS” (Keep It Simple Silly). The house had waterproof polymer panels for walls, floors, and ceilings. They unbolted the pieces and took everything to the new location. So our new house is really our old house, just in a new place. 

I wanted to visit our old island and reef, but Dad said no. He said the island would soon be under water. When I asked about visiting the reef flat, he said it was already too deep. We would need to use SCUBA. He looked sad, saying no. I think it hurt him a lot when he lost his reef. 

But things were different at Coastal Eleven. I was older, and Mom and Dad let me pick colors for curtains and make choices about arranging the furniture. Mom took me around the island, showing me all the places to explore. Dad started taking me out on the reef with him. We’d walk off the shore, and soon we were knee-deep in water on the reef flat. In under an hour, we were in the lagoon, swimming around sea fans, soft corals, and small coral heads. The lagoon was so shallow that I could stand with my head above water, at least at low tide. Going out to the lagoon with Dad and seeing the corals made me remember what it was like to be happy. 

Didn’t you know there were coral reefs in Georgia? Well, they haven’t been here long. Corals reproduce by sending eggs and sperm into the ocean—the larvae travel with the currents. The Georgia corals moved here from Florida. With the seas getting warmer, they could settle and start new reefs here in Georgia. 

The bioengineered heat-tolerant corals saved the Florida reefs and unexpectedly spread northward and deeper. Now Florida and Georgia both have thriving reef systems. That is the good news. The bad news is that much of Florida is now under water. I think Dad loved reefs more than anything else. And after spending time with him, I came to love them too. The reforestation and reef restoration projects were part of a push to slow and reverse global warming. The hope was that robust and expanded reefs, with bioengineered corals, would protect the mainland from storms and flooding. Corals don’t just protect the mainland from wave action. They remove carbon dioxide from the air when they build exoskeletons. Coral growth slows climate change, so they are essential to everyone. 

Don’t get me wrong. It’s great that reefs are good for the planet, but I would love them anyway because they are just so beautiful. The colorful fish are everywhere, and the soft and hard corals are amazing. I had a hard time believing Dad when he told me they are animals because they look more like plants. My favorite coral is purple and takes the shape of fingers. It’s called Porites furcate, or purple finger coral. The lagoon floor looks like a garden of flowers with yellow, green, and purple sea fans (soft corals) waving in the current. Dad taught me not to touch any corals because touching them can give them diseases. He said I should never step on them and taught me to stay on the patches of sand. It took a lot of concentration to learn how to avoid stepping on coral, but I do it instinctively now. 

We were on the reef almost every day back then. But in 2045, there was an outbreak of dengue fever. Dengue is spread by mosquitoes, and it seemed like everyone was getting sick. We used repellent and tried to stay inside at dawn and sunset when the mosquitoes were really biting, but Dad got sick. The hospital was so crowded that his bed was in a hallway instead of a room. He died five days later. 

When Dad died, I lost my teacher and my best friend. Now, what helps me most is going out on the reef flat. When I’m on the reef, I feel like I’m with Dad. I can almost hear his voice telling me the names of corals and tropical fish. Being on the reef makes me feel less alone and less sad. I promised to stay on the reef flat or in the lagoon, in the section close to shore (although sometimes I’m not all that close.) I had to work on Mom, but she gave in, and now she lets me go out on my own. 

Dad died two years ago. I still spend most of my time on the reef studying marine life. I do my online schoolwork, but it doesn’t compare to what I’m learning on the reef. I’m keeping detailed journals on everything I see. Everyone calls me a science geek. It’s true. I get busy with ocean stuff and forget to show up for meals. Mom fusses at me because I’m too skinny. It’s not that I don’t get hungry. I just sometimes forget to come in.

About the author:

Ann R. McNicol grew up watching space launches and devouring science fiction. Scuba diving, exploring coral reefs and Florida beaches cemented her interest in science.

When not writing, she walks with her husband, bikes, camps, keeps up with her adult children and plays with their attention-demanding cats.

https://www.amazon.com/Ann-McNicol/e/B09TS32X5H/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

https://www.facebook.com/ann.mcnicol.98

I was compensated via Fiverr for sharing this post. I only share those books that I feel will be of interest to my readers.

Read chapter 1 from Charlie's Story by Ann R. McNicol

 

Fourteen-year-old Samantha spends her days exploring the shallow reef behind her island home. With her world locked in a battle against rising seas, scientists deploy genetically modified corals to rebuild reefs and protect the coastline. No one expects the reefs to be a hotbed of evolution, but they are.

When an octopus flows off a rock in her lagoon, Samantha is startled. When he purposefully arranges pieces of coral on the sand, trying to communicate, she is shocked. How she responds may determine the fate of life on Earth.

Buy on Amazon

(affiliate link included)

Read chapter 1:

Chapter 1~ Night Encounter 

I knew it was risky when I took the skiff out at night, but I had to do it. Small comfort as swells lifted me into the air and dropped me onto the seat. My knee was braced against the hull, keeping me from falling to the floor. The chaotic bouncing made my stomach churn, and sour liquid tickled the back of my throat. Terrific, why not throw up and make matters worse? I gripped the throttle, urging the skiff forward toward the collection boat anchored off the reef crest. The skiff was too small to be out on open water, and I knew it. 

Occasionally, a small fin from a blacktip shark crossed in front of me. Sometimes, when the shark was in a wave crest, the moonlight showed its silhouette like a shadow puppet. I bet sharks don’t get seasick. What if I sink? No one knows I’m out here. Mom will kill me when she finds out I took the skiff at night. If I reach the collection boat, what can a fourteen-year-old say that will stop them? 

It seemed to take forever to reach the boat, but then I was there, only ten feet or so from its side. My relief was mixed with panic. What happens next? I eased the motor, slowing my approach. Men in wetsuits gathered at the railing, watching me. I lost sight of them when a blinding floodlight blocked everything from view. 

“Hello?” 

“Please lower your lights. I can’t see.”

“Jesus, it’s a kid,” a deep voice called out into the night.

About the author:

Ann R. McNicol grew up watching space launches and devouring science fiction. Scuba diving, exploring coral reefs and Florida beaches cemented her interest in science.

When not writing, she walks with her husband, bikes, camps, keeps up with her adult children and plays with their attention-demanding cats.

https://www.amazon.com/Ann-McNicol/e/B09TS32X5H/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

https://www.facebook.com/ann.mcnicol.98

I was compensated via Fiverr for sharing this post. I only share those books that I feel will be of interest to my readers.

Life in a Nutshell by Kay Cee

 

This book follows the story of a 17 year old boy named Jesse. He goes from wanting nothing out of life and struggling with his mental health to becoming a person he never thought he could be.

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Read a sample of the book!

I was compensated via Fiverr for sharing this post. I only share those books that I feel will be of interest to my readers. 

Annie Jones And The Animal Sanctuary Part Two: Jersey's Unexpected Arrival by Tami Colby

 

Annie Jones struggled to make sense of what her gut was trying to tell her. Her entire adult life, up until this point, was centered around one prevailing thought — staying as far away from Murphy, Texas, as she possibly could. She didn’t fully understand what she was about to do, but in typical Annie Jones fashion, she pulled the trigger anyways. After sitting on the couch, for more than an hour, rehearsing what she was going to tell Ralph, she made the call. “Ralph, I’m taking the farm off the market. This town needs me, and for some strange reason, I think I need this town.” This sequel will answer many of the questions that Tami Colby left readers to ponder at the end of ANNIE JONES AND THE ANIMAL SANCTUARY, ANNIE MEETS MOLLY. So, sit back and enjoy the ride that Annie is about to take you on.

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Click on the cover to learn about Annie's first adventure!

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Annie Jones and The Animal Sanctuary: Annie Meets Molly by Tami Colby

 

Annie Jones couldn't wait to leave behind the small-sleepy town of Murphy, Texas. She needed to spread her wings; and that she did. After graduating high school, Annie attends New York University where she earns a degree in journalism and becomes a reporter at one of New York's largest newspapers. Her life was finally going all according to plan... or was it? A phone call from home suddenly forces Annie to re-examine her life and make decisions she never dreamed she would have to make.

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Click on the book cover below to learn more about Annie's next set of adventures!

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Bellocaro (Teen and Young Adult Vampire Series - Book 1) by PS Meraux

 

A page-turning novel in the tradition of stories like Twilight or Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer, or A Shade of Vampire by Bella Forrest. Bellocaro is a paranormal vampire romance fueled by an unusual mystery, a magical location, and a fight to stay alive.

"TWILIGHT MEETS PRIDE AND PREJUDICE"

Bellocaro will transport anyone who loves a gripping romance to a new world.

Trapped on a mysterious island and fleeing the school jock who thinks she should be his, Skye Moon encounters a strange boy in the woods. After meeting the captivating Thatcher Blue, she is dragged into a nightmare. Skye is targeted by a vampire who wants to kill her just for being near the alluring Thatcher.

With a target on her back, she doesn’t know if she’ll survive. Skye has known fear before, helping her mother battle a life-threatening illness but never has she had to deal with a vampire stalker.

Skye hopes that the dark-eyed boy from her premonitions will keep her safe, if he ever reveals himself.

She is astonished when Thatcher and his family come to the private academy on the mysterious island run by an equally enigmatic headmistress. Thatcher has managed to keep the secrets of his monster family hidden for more than a century, but not from Skye. She rightly suspects the new kids are something other than ‘kids.’

Complicating matters is the way Thatcher looks at her, like she means the world to him because he has visions too. The pair find themselves caught between danger and longing.

Will Thatcher save her?

Or like his visions have predicted －kill her?


Profoundly thrilling, Bellocaro captures the life and death struggle for these teenagers on an island that isn’t as dormant as it appears. Readers Favorite Award-winning, best selling author P.S. Meraux brings humor and heat to this novel that will drive fans of vampire love stories wild with enthusiasm.

Read an excerpt:

Whatever was coming — it was getting closer.

Feeling tense my eyes scoured the dark bushes, trying to discern whatever was in the gloom. Tegwyn’s admonishments rang out in my memory, “Nothing should be able to hurt you here, but don’t push it.” Should? Surely there weren’t wild animals on the island too, right?

There was a flicker of movement, a dark shape barely visible against the blackness of the surrounding forest it traveled through. I narrowed my gaze trying to figure out what it was. The shape slowed. Head dipping to the ground like it was sniffing at something or had caught a scent. A thudding heartbeat later I realized what it smelled was me.

Suddenly the massive bulk of a muzzle shifted through the conifers, jaw dropping to reveal a glistening row of sharp white teeth. The intimidating display of lethal-looking incisors must have been a foot long!

Panting from its run, the creature came to a stop after passing by the last branch of a bald cypress. I used the word creature because it defied common sense. Having quickly caught its breath, the tongue pulled back in the muzzle and the paws began to move.

What I saw was freaking enormous, covered in dark fur. Paws the size of horse’s hooves were steadily coming closer. The monster was unquestionably more lupine than equine.

“Oh my God,” I huffed out a frightened breath, fearing I might hyperventilate. A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the October evening breeze.

Calling it a wolf was an insult to nightmares. While it was shaped like one — it was like a wolf on steroids. The bad kind, that made the user ginormous, stupid, and overly aggressive. I imagined bulging, ugly veins hidden under the thick fur.

The clouds must have drifted past the moon, I didn’t dare take my eyes off the creature to make sure. Moonlight illuminated its fur revealing touches of gray and silver in the mud-splattered hide.

My earlier dark thoughts about stepping off the railing cast aside, now I really did wonder if this was to be my last night on Sceadu.

To the left I heard something else coming through the bushes, fast with more agile footsteps. Was there another one? My hands began to grow clammy against the cold metal.

“Oh crap!” I gulped, terrified.

Unexpectedly, as the noise of whatever followed the massive beast got closer, there was a flash of blue fabric in front of me. Then two things happened so swiftly I couldn’t tell which happened first.

“No chase! No!” A voice hissed in the gloom so softly I could have imagined it.

“What the hell—” the soft voice said a second later, sounding more aggrieved.

Darting through the branches of two mature cedars bounded another monster wolf. It shifted from the cover of the forest into the clearing with such speed that it took a moment to discern that it wasn’t alone; not one but two more giant wolves! Neither as big as the first but now swarming around it. Massive teeth nipped at the grayish creature like they were trying to bite it or halt it.

They seemed to perceive this nocturnal excursion with more intensity than their larger cousin, adamant in the attempt to get the monster wolf’s attention, trampling the weeds and grass in a slapdash manner.

Frightened out of my socks, I forgot there was nothing but a long drop behind me and lifted one foot off the rail with the intention of running like the wind, abruptly stumbling. I gasped and quickly tried to correct my mistake, wildly groping the metal rail with slick hands. My body vibrated with fear as I stared into the black abyss below.

Without warning, cool fingers gently encircled one wrist, locking it in place with the power of a vice. Another set grabbed the opposite forearm as I struggled to get my feet firmly back on the slippery perch.

“I’ve got you.”

Glancing up I saw a boy standing there. His strong hands kept me from falling to my death. A disgruntled expression traveled across his face, eyes becoming distant for several seconds as though assessing some inner thought and the grimace vanished, well almost. His mouth remained twisted down.

Staring in astonishment — my mind couldn’t function properly. Unable to fathom where he came from, I knew he shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t safe.

Incisors of the monster wolves were snapping and gnashing less than twenty-five feet away. Yet he acted as calmly as if we were alone. Didn’t he see them?

The smaller creatures seemed to be corralling the grayish wolf or altering its course. And the big one didn’t like it.

Rearing back on hind legs the monster wolf growled at the other two, immense jaws scissoring open and shut over their heads as if in warning. A deep snarl that erupted from the large mouth could have been saying, “Cut it out,” if it had a voice.

The wolf with the light brown fur ignored the warning, hurtling a muscular shoulder against the gray one’s exposed midsection. The big wolf made a gagging noise that sounded like a grunt. The second newcomer hoisted dark forepaws against the same area and together they succeeded in knocking the third backward. All three landed in an explosion of yelps, barks and snapping teeth.

I gasped.

“Are you okay?” the strange boy asked in an annoyed tone.

Too stunned by what I saw to speak, I merely nodded.

Clouds hid the moon again. The clearing fell into darkness. I squinted to see where the monster wolves were. I felt rather than saw my would-be rescuer’s head shift.

“Find him,” the boy hissed so quietly I thought I might have imagined that too. Who was he talking to?

The darker wolf growled lightly, head quickly swinging toward us before returning to the downed one, muzzle pushing against the muddy body forcing it to move with some urgency. The monster creatures merged into one shapeless blob in the shadows. Unable to see them but knowing they were out there only heightened my fear.

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After completing her degree in broadcast journalism at USC in 1999, P.S. Meraux used her love of writing to land multiple jobs in broadcasting, winning several awards, including a DuPont - Columbia University Award and an Emmy from the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences for breaking news coverage of the 2004 Asian Tsunami. Rising through the ranks to editor, she claimed a spot at a major publishing house before branching out on her own to write novels in 2013, which have won numerous awards, including several Readers’ Favorite accolades.

Bellocaro is a semi-finalist in the 10th Annual Kindle Book Awards Contest.

Twitter: @psmeraux
Instagram: @psmeraux

I was compensated via Fiverr for sharing this post. I only share those books that I feel will be of interest to my readers.