Saturday, June 14, 2014

'Taking Angels' by C.S. Yelle


Book Info-

Title- Taking Angels
Series- The Angel Crusades Series #1
By- C.S. Yelle
Genre- YA Paranormal/Angels
Published On- March 26, 2013
Published By- Staccato Publishing

Blurb-

Britt Anderson went along with everything the doctors said for nearly four years, but she was still dying at eighteen. The cancer had won leaving her without a future, without any options, and without control. No control, except for how she would leave this world. As Britt tries to end her life by going into the frigid waters she realizes her mistake. She struggles to get back to shore, to cry out for help, but her atrophied muscles are useless and the frigid water steals the breath from her chemo-scarred lungs. Despite her father’s attempts to reach her, she flies over the waterfall.

When Allister Parks finds Britt’s fragile body on the riverbank something calls out to him. Ignoring the warnings of his sister, Allister brings Britt back from the edge of death. The only problem is that an Eternal like Allister isn’t allowed to touch those who have already passed from this world. It is forbidden; an infraction punishable by death.

As Britt relishes her new cancer-free life and senior year of high school, her very existence threatens Allister’s place in this world. Allister struggles to keep Britt a secret from the Eternal Council and out of the hands of the only Eternal who already knows the truth: the one who stole her guardian angel.

Read an excerpt:
“You were dead,” Allister agreed. “I touched you and brought you back, only it was as something different than you were before.”“Uh, I kind of noticed,” I said, waving my hands around my body like a model showing him the latest fashions. “And that little thing about being able to heal people is new. So what did you bring me back as?” The words came out and I wanted to catch them and shove them back into my mouth. Fear swelled within me as I realized I wasn’t sure I wanted the truth…if it was bad.

Read another excerpt:
Just as the tingling began, panic gripped me. I recognized the yard and the house. Mine. 
My room materialized before me as the smell of lilac came to me and I stared through Kendal’s eyes at my bed as I slept. He crept closer even as my mind screamed for me to wake up, to just, wake up. 
My eyes flew open and I sat up. Kendal, only a step from me, jumped back in surprise.

Book links



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About the Author-

C.S. Yelle was born and raised in Grand Rapids, MN, the “almost” middle child of six. He attended Grand Rapids Senior High School where he enjoyed music and sports. He received his BS in Chemistry from Mayville State University, Mayville, ND in 1987. He taught 7-12 Science and coached for six years in several North Dakota schools and currently works as an Executive Account Manager in the Water Treatment Industry where he has been for over eighteen years. He is the father of four and grandfather of one. He writes novels, screenplays, and an occasional short story. He has been writing seriously for over 15 years and plans to continue until his fingers are unable, maybe longer. He currently resides in a Minneapolis, MN suburb with his wife Jennifer.


Links-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/CS-Yelle/368771436505884
Publisher- http://staccatopublishing.blogspot.com/p/cs-yelle.html?m=0
Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6996127.C_S_Yelle
Twitter- http://www.twitter.com/CSYelle
Website- http://p8.hostingprod.com/@csyelle.com/

Friday, June 13, 2014

'Seventeen: Book One' by Mark Diehl


SEVENTEEN

By

Mark Diehl

BLURB:

Most of the world's seventeen billion people are unconscious, perpetually serving their employers as part of massive brain trusts. The ecosystem has collapsed, and corporations control all of the world's resources and governments. A bedraggled alcoholic known as the Prophet predicts nineteen year-old waitress Eadie will lead a revolution, but how can she prevail when hunted by a giant corporation and the Federal Angels it directs?


Read an excerpt:

The mist was clearing. Brian found himself standing in the street outside the bar he had entered earlier. Half a dozen battered and bleeding men stood surrounding him, and at least as many more lay on the gravel, seriously wounded or out cold.

The attack had come from somewhere in the mist, from all directions at once. His head and torso ached and throbbed. He locked his shaking knees to keep them from buckling. Every muscle in his body seemed to be lengthening, pouring downward like water. His eyelids drooped.

One of the standing men took a step toward him, fists raised. Brian tried to turn away from him, his arm flopping behind his back like a fish.

Behind his back! His eyes opened a little wider. He straightened and forced his arm to function, whipping out his revolver and aiming it around at the circle of attackers.

He tried to pull back the hammer but too many of his knuckles were broken. He ended up simply pointing it at the closest one, who backed away cautiously. Once past him, Brian walked backwards, still aiming the gun as long as he could see them. Then he turned, moving as fast as he could manage, back toward Dok’s place.

http://amzn.to/1aH83Jw


AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Mark D. Diehl writes novels about power dynamics and the way people and organizations influence each other. He believes that obedience and conformity are becoming humanity’s most important survival skills, and that we are thus evolving into a corporate species.

Diehl has: been homeless in Japan, practiced law with a major multinational firm in Chicago, studied in Singapore, fled South Korea as a fugitive, and been stranded in Hong Kong.

After spending most of his youth running around with hoods and thugs, he eventually earned his doctorate in law at the University of Iowa and did graduate work in creative writing at the University of Chicago. He currently lives and writes in Cape Elizabeth, Maine.

Author’s Website: http://www.markddiehl.com


Mark Diehl will be giving away a $25 Amazon or BN gift card. Follow the tour and enter the Rafflecopter for more chances to win!

'School of Deaths' by Christopher Mannino


School of Deaths
by Christopher Mannino

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

A timid girl finds bravery as the first female Death.

Thirteen-year-old Suzie Sarnio always believed the Grim Reaper was a fairy tale image of a skeleton with a scythe. Now, forced to enter the College of Deaths, she finds herself training to bring souls from the Living World to the Hereafter. The task is demanding enough, but as the only female in the all-male College, she quickly becomes a target. Attacked by both classmates and strangers, Suzie is alone in a world where even her teachers want her to fail.

Caught in the middle of a plot to overthrow the World of Deaths, Suzie must uncover the reason she’s been brought there: the first female Death in a million years.

Read an excerpt:
She wanted to scream but no sound came. She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. The hooded man grinned.

Suzie’s heart pounded as she opened her eyes. Laughter echoed in the back of her head. The terrible laughter she heard every night. She wiped the sweat from her face, pushing aside the sheets. Sunlight spilled into her room from between frilly curtains. Mom would be knocking on the door to wake her soon.

She turned to one side as the dream started to fade. Every night the same nightmare. Every night she heard the laughter. The hooded man with a scythe. The feeling of complete terror.

What did it mean?

Above her clock radio, a worn teddy bear stared at her with its single eye. She pulled the bear to her chest and clutched it with her bony fingers.

Suzie Sarnio. The hooded man had written her name down. He always wrote it right before the laughter began. The man looked like Death. But why would Death have a stammer?

“Suzie,” said Mom, knocking on the door. “Come on, you’ll be late for school.”

“I’m coming.”

Suzie changed, staring at the mirror in her pink-wallpapered room. Each rib stuck out from her chest; she counted all twenty-four. The skin on her face stretched tightly over her skeletal face, and dark patches surrounded each of her gray eyes. As much as she tried to comb it, her long black hair tangled into stringy knots.

Buy links

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Christopher Mannino’s life is best described as an unending creative outlet. He teaches high school theatre in Greenbelt, Maryland. In addition to his daily drama classes, he runs several after-school performance/production drama groups. He spends his summers writing and singing. Mannino holds a Master of Arts in Theatre Education from Catholic University, and has studied mythology and literature both in America and at Oxford University. His work with young people helped inspire him to write young adult fantasy, although it was his love of reading that truly brought his writing to life.

Mannino is currently working on a sequel to “School of Deaths” as well as an adult science fiction novel.

Links:

http://www.ChristopherMannino.com

http://poetsfire.blogspot.com

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8108129.Christopher_Mannino

https://twitter.com/Ctmannino

https://www.facebook.com/CTMannino

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXSSZN6L128


The author will give a $20 Amazon gift card to two randomly drawn commenters and a $20 Amazon gift card to one randomly drawn host. Follow the tour and enter the Rafflecopter for more chances to win!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Check out the UtopYA nominated book trailer for 'Few Are Angels' by Inger Iverson




Blurb:

War is raging between the Immortals and the Dark Prince’s army of half-breed vampires — and gifted Ella finds herself at the center. Can renegade half-breed vampire Kale keep her safe as their forbidden love awakens?




http://amzn.to/1msx1Nv

About the author:

Inger Iversen was born in 1982 to Anne and Kaii Iversen. She lives in Virginia Beach with her overweight lap cat, Max and her tree hugging boyfriend Joshua. She spends 90 percent of her time in Barnes and Noble and the other ten pretending not to want to be in Barnes and Noble.

Links:

FB: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Inger-Iversen/187900437937819
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KRIS10INGER
Webite: http://ingeriversen.com/

Friday, June 6, 2014

'Against the Darkness (Cimmerian Moon Book 1)' by A.M. Griffin Release Week Blitz!




Against the Darkness - Release Week Blitz
By A M Griffin
Young Adult
Date Published: June 4, 2014


 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png
    


Seventeen year old Sinta Allen has one objective, to get from Tallahassee, Florida to her mother in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Seems simple enough right? Wrong. Hostile aliens have invaded Earth—and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that we’re losing the fight. While the aliens bring devastation and destruction and take people away to God knows where in their spaceships, Sinta, along with some of her classmates must rely on their survival instincts, a little luck and each other if they want to survive the venture across the country. The last thing she needs is for Wade, her school friend and Jason, her rescuer, to distract her along the way. 


EXCERPTS

Excerpt 1

“Please mom,” I say, whining. “I really don’t want to go.”

“Sinta, you know I love it when you help me out, but this conversation is getting old. We’ve been going round and round like this for months. You’re going, end of story.” She pulls into an empty parking space and turns off the car. “I’ll help you with your things,” she says, popping the trunk.

Feeling defiant, and with nothing else to lose, I cross my arms and don’t move. She opens her door and gets out. I hear her saying good morning to some of the other parents and kids, but I don’t budge.

I recognize the kids passing my car with their bags either in their hands or over their shoulders. Some look my way and smile. Some even wave enthusiastically. All are in grades below mine. With this being my senior year, I don’t expect many others from my class to be here. Like I told my mom, band camp isn’t needed for anyone’s college application, especially since most of us seniors applied for college last summer or during the beginning of first semester. Besides Mia and Ian, I expect to be hanging around a bunch of younger kids.

Through the side mirror I see my mom coming up to my door. I quickly lock it. Childish? Yes.

She raps on the window and, when I don’t answer, she raps again, this time faster and harder. When I still ignore her she leans closer to the window. “For the love of God, if you keep it up I will unlock this door and drag your skinny tail out and strangle you in front of everyone here and still make you get on that bus.”

My mom has never hit me before, she’s full of threats and they usually prove empty. I turn to see her glaring daggers at me.

The look on her face says that she intends to do as she said and more. I open the door and step out and around her. I grab my duffle and sleeping bag from the trunk and head to the bus.

“Aren’t you going to at least kiss me goodbye?” she yells out after me.

“I can’t. I need to hurry. I don’t want the fun to start without me.”

“Sinta!”

Without turning I raise my hand in the air, saying bye. Of course she’ll be mad for a little while, but then she’ll start missing me. I’m her only daughter and she forced me to go on a trip I didn’t want to take. I think by tomorrow afternoon she’ll be calling the camp to check up on me.

I set my things next to the other bags on the ground by the side of the bus and climb the stairs. I only stop briefly to see if Mia has made it yet.

Yep.

She and Ian are huddled in a back seat, kissing.

Lovely. The fun is starting already.

I walk down the aisle, passing ninth and tenth graders. Closer to the back are the eleventh graders and, taking up the last three rows, the twelfth graders. Myles Jackson or MJ as he’s called and Shayla Day have a seat across from Mia and Ian. Seeing MJ surprises me, because he’s a jock and the number one football prospect from Michigan. He doesn’t need band camp to go on any application. Michael and Aaron take up another seat, with MJ’s best friend Eric and his girlfriend Melissa across from them. Then there’s Daniel and Andrew taking up a seat, and across from them is an empty one.

“We saved you a seat,” Mia says, pulling her mouth away from Ian’s long enough to talk and breathe.

“Thanks,” I say sliding into it. I put my ear buds in and pull the hood of my Huron Band sweatshirt over my head.

Just as soon as I close my eyes I feel the dip in my seat. Opening one, I peek to catch a glimpse of Wade Hill squeezing into the seat next to me.

“Sorry, Sinta,” he says, after settling in. “I asked Mrs. Franklin for my own seat but she told me there wasn’t enough room. Mrs. Burgess told me to sit next to you, since you’re so skinny.”

I close my eyes. This is a punishment.

I hear the creak of the door closing and, after a few minutes, the bus begins to move.

“Testing, testing,” Ms. Burgess’ voice projects over the loud speaker. She’s the new young teacher who just started teaching at our school this year. “How about I sing everyone a nice little lullaby to get you all to sleep, hmm?

Oh. My. God.

“Can someone please tell her she isn’t auditioning for American Idol,” I mutter.

Wade laughs. His meaty arm brushes up against mine as he does.

Let the fun begin.




Excerpt 2:

It shouldn’t be a problem with just seven of us.

“Even so, I hate us being out in the open.”

“It’s our best hope right now. That area has plenty of trees for cover. We can build shelter and blend in with the surroundings.”

I nod, affirming what Wade said. “It’ll be perfect.”

“We thought the last place was perfect,” Shayla mumbles.

There were forty people hiding in some woods by a residential area, I want to tell her. That’s not perfect. That was a disaster waiting to happen. I clench my jaw tight to stop myself from pointing out the obvious.

“What about food?” MJ asks. He puts up his empty hands. “When we left, we didn’t have time to get to anything, food or water. We had to leave everything, even our backpacks.”

Crap.

Wade pulls his pack off his back and rummages through it. “I have a flashlight, four bottles of water, two sleeves of crackers, a lighter and Swiss army knife. Sin,” he says, looking over to me. “What do you have?”

I don’t have to pull my bag off to recite its contents. “Two bottles of water, one sleeve of crackers, four slices of bread and I have my knife tied to my sweats.”

“Awesome. We’re definitely prepared to head back to Michigan,” Ian says.

“What did you bring?” I ask him, since he’s still being a smartass.

He glares at me before turning the other way.

“Let’s get going. Our circumstance isn’t going to change by just standing here,” Wade says.

We let him lead the way with Mia and I following close on his heels. Shayla and Ms. Burgess are at our backs and MJ and Ian are behind them.

We move silently through what used to be the residential areas. Everyone is on edge, watching out for aliens that could come out from behind trees or what used to be buildings or houses. We also keep peering up, watching for their ships.

Under the cover of night, we go through the few houses that don’t threaten to topple on us. We search for anything that will help us survive. We don’t find any more bottled water, but we are able to find a lot of canned goods and, luckily, an opener. We load what we can carry in three plastic bags. We don’t take so much that the bags will slow us down and only take what is needed.

By the time we get to the lake, its well into the night. We scout out the best possible spot, somewhere with trees thick enough to hide us. Once we find our hide-out, Wade directs us to gather all the wood we can find.

After watching him make a stick shelter that’s only two feet high, we set out to make our own. We each pick spots along the lake, under a tree, and position the openings so that we can see at least two other shelter entrances. We don’t talk about what happened—about how we think everyone else is dead. We hardly talk at all, besides to help each other find sticks and build the hobbit huts that we’ll live in for the next two days.

It’s past ten p.m. before we’re finally done and it’s so dark we can barely make out what’s around us. We’re tired, mentally and physically. There’s nothing left to do but to rest and think about all we’ve lost.

I crawl backward into my shelter. I won’t be able to sit up. I’ll hardly be able to turn around or shift my position. It’s long enough so that I can stretch out. I’m so short that my shelter won’t appear out of place against the bank of the lake. The guys had to make theirs shorter, and have to sleep curled up.

Once I’m fully inside, I glance over to Mia’s shelter. We made ours facing each other. I rest my face on my hands and she does the same, watching me too. I watch her until her eyes finally close for the night. When I’m sure that she’s sleep I roll over onto my side. This position is just as painful as lying on my stomach. Trying to get comfortable on the cold ground with only a few tufts of grass sprinkled in among rocks, dirt and twigs is the least of my worries.

Right about now is when I again start to have my recurring wish for the gift of foresight. But I’m sure everyone in the world has probably wished for the same thing. At least then there could have been some kind of planning. The military could have been ready for the aliens’ arrival and mounted an attack. Not only that, but the government could have organized some kind of evacuation. Although I don’t know to where exactly.

How do you evacuate an entire country?

At any rate, the gift of foresight would have helped us all. Maybe, with it, my mother wouldn’t have forced me to go on the stupid field trip. I remind myself how I’d begged and begged her not to make me go.

But I bet she regrets it now, especially since I’m almost a thousand miles away from her during the worst possible time.

I know what I’m doing and I try to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. If I’m mad at her then I won’t miss her as much.

Just as I have that thought, my eyes begin to water. Being mad at her usually doesn’t last very long at all. I can’t make it. For all it’s worth, I know she’s regretting she ever made me go and she’s missing me just as much as I’m missing her.

I sniffle back the trickle of liquid that’s making a trail from my nostril and across my cheek. Tears fall in fat drops from the corners of my eyes. I’m crying so softly that I doubt anyone can hear it.



Excerpt 3:

He snaps his fingers, bringing my attention back to his face.

He mouths something that I can’t make out. I shake my head.

He creeps closer. I notice a few other things about him. Like the gun that he’s holding in one hand and some kind of knife in the other.

My eyes widen in understanding.

He’s here to save us.

I peer to my right and left. No one else is paying attention to him. I turn back to him.

“Where are they?” he mouths again.

I nod toward the cabin where Ms. Burgess is screaming.

“How many?” he mouths.

“Three,” I mouth back to him.

He nods and goes back into the woods.

No, I want to yell. Come back, don’t leave us here.

I’m about to do just that when he returns with another man, this one older, but similar looking. They creep closer to us, their eyes scanning everything around them. As they come closer I see the rifles strapped across their backs, the guns in shoulder holsters, the knives strapped around their legs and pistols in their hands. I want to cry.

If anybody can save us from the Tanners it’s them.

The tickle of a tear is on my cheek. I use a shoulder to wipe it away.

I don’t say a word as the younger one crouches behind me and uses his knife to cut through the ropes that bind my wrists. The other man goes behind MJ to do the same. I see him whispering something to MJ and MJ nodding in response. Once my hands are free, he moves down to my ankles and begins to saw away at the ropes there.

He glances up to me, his eyes focused squarely on mine. I have a hard time looking away and I think that’s his intention. “What’s your name?”

Instead of my name a cry escapes my lips.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, still sawing away at the ropes. He takes a quick peek to his right, where the other man is working to free MJ’s feet. “My name is Jason, but all my fraternity brothers call me JC.” He attempts a smile. “You can call me JC.”

“I…I’m not your frat brother,” I say, in a stutter, as confusion clouds my mind. “I’m a girl.”

Why did I point that out?

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Huh?” I’m as confused as ever.

With my feet free, he crawls quickly up to my side.

“Are you still with me? You look like you’re about to freak out and bolt.”

I nod. Yes I’m okay and yes, I’m going to run.

“Stay with me sweetheart,” he says, in a rush. “I’m going to give you this knife and you’re going to free the other girls. After they’re free, I want you to take them where you first saw me, okay? Behind those trees are some backpacks, you wait there for us. Do you hear me?”

Yes.

“Answer me. Do you understand what I want you to do?”

“But what if you don’t make it. They can kill you,” I whisper. I can’t cover up the fear that is smothering me.

The smile he gives me this time is genuine, not at all forced, and all I notice are the deep dimples in his cheeks. “We got this.”

And for some reason I believe him. “Okay.”



Excerpt 4:

“Shayla,” I say with my voice in a mixture of a whisper and whine. I’m scared to say anything louder.

Stomp, stomp, slide.

My left.

I peer in that direction, lifting my sword, pointing it to whatever will come at me. It shakes in the air, my hands almost too unsteady to hold it.

Stomp, stomp, slide.

Shayla approaches my back. “Your turn.”

Stomp, stomp, slide.

“Something is here,” I choke out.

She inhales sharply and steps back, away from me. Only after I feel the tug on the back of my shirt do I realize that she has me, pulling me with her. I take a slow deliberate step back and then another, letting her guide me as I keep my eyes peeled for them. We move to the far corner of the room. All the while the stomp, stomp, slide comes closer and closer, louder and louder.

Briefly I wonder if they can hear it in the basement. They have to. Will they come up and save us? Could they even risk it? I don’t think so. We’re on our own until the aliens leave.

I know we’re at the wall when Shayla stops abruptly and she leads me to rest my back on the wall. We’re standing side-by-side, but I get the feeling that I should stand in front of her. I’m the only one with a weapon. So I do.

“No,” she whispers. “What are you doing?”

“I have a sword.”

“Yeah, one that you’ve been having for all but five minutes.”

“Shhh,” I hiss.

After a blink, it’s there, blocking the entrance. A lizard, green and scaly. Eight feet tall, rippling muscles, staring at me with yellow eyes with black, diamond-shaped iris.

How can a lizard be muscular? My mind screams.

I whimper as it stares down at me, its breathing heavy.

A warm rush of urine travels down my legs.

Shayla’s scream seems to pierce through me.

“You will submit to us.”

Oh, God, No!

In two strides it’s at us. It reaches out for me and all I can focus on are the claws, three black claws, almost like talons, coming closer to me. Instinctively I cringe away from it. But those claws keep coming toward me.

With a “swish” of my sword I swing as hard as I can. It glides through his skin like through butter. A gush of warm liquid sprays me in the face and torso.

I’m not the only one who is surprised by what I’ve done. The lizard stares at his arm with pure shock. I’m in pure shock too. Not that I’ve done it, but that I’ve taken his hand clear off.

Before I can over think about what I’ve done, I take another swipe, this time at its leg. It’s not wearing any clothes, besides some kind of utility belt, so aiming for its knee is easy. The lizard roars as the sword passes through it, making him buckle and fall to his left.

I take a bold step forward and, as it’s falling down, I bring the blade of my sword down across its thick neck, separating its head from his body.

“Oh God!” Shayla cries out.

“I killed it. I can’t believe that I killed it.” My eyes are focused on the ooze instead of blood that’s dripping from my sword and hand.

“We have to get back to the basement.” Shayla rushes past me, but I grab her arm stopping her from leaving the room.

“We can’t. If there are any more aliens, we’ll lead them straight to the others.”

She pulls her arm out of my grasp. “They have guns. They can kill them!” She runs through the door, leaving me to stare at chopped up lizard.

But I have a sword.

Just as quickly as she leaves, Shayla comes back, screaming. “There’s another one!” She runs past me and to a small window on the back wall.

Another lizard, just like the first comes through the door. It takes a quick look at the carnage of its friend and in that time I raise my sword, readying for it.

I killed one. I can kill another.

With a growl it turns and uses its tail to knock me from my feet. As I hit the ground, so does the sword. I hear the clang of metal sliding across the floor and out of my reach. I can’t take my eyes off of it. It peers over me to where Shayla is. It lifts up a foot. I see how rough its skin is, the way his black claws curl inward.

It’s going to step on me and dig its claws in my flesh, ripping me apart.

        
About the Author:
 photo AMGriffin_zps99624e9a.jpg

A. M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.


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$20 Amazon GC

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Meet K.D. Van Brunt, author of 'Win the Rings'


What is the first curse word that comes to mind? How often and why do you use it?
God dammit. Too much. Force of habit, really. There might be a psychological element to this—my parents were strict about forbidding that curse word (and others).
How would you spend ten thousand bucks?
Probably use it to make some home repairs. No matter how much I spend on this house, it’s always ready to suck down another $10 grand.
What are 5 things within touching distance?
Computer keyboard, coffee cup, iPhone, my Bose noise cancelling headphones, and an Edward Cullen/Twilight mouse pad (don’t ask me why).
Do you have a crush on anyone?
No. I may have fantasies, but they fall short of crush territory.
What is your least favorite word?
Currently, I’m on the warpath against overuse of the words “suddenly” and “just” in my writing. Those are usually useless filler words that communicate little or nothing, and they’re often strewn throughout a book like garbage along the interstate.

Win the Rings
by K.D. Van Brunt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

Jace has been the property of the U.S. Army since they found out about her when she was five, and now she has become one of its most valuable weapons. But Jace is not the only one of her kind. Gray is one too, but with the help of his sister, he has spent most of his sixteen years hiding from the Army.

Now, the Army has found out about Gray and they cannot allow him to roam free. Operating on the theory that it takes one to catch one, Jace is sent out with a special ops squad to hunt Gray down. But Jace is not the only one pursuing Gray, and the competition is after her too. What ensues is a desperate chase through city after city as duty and honor collide with love and sacrifice.

Read an excerpt:
“I’m Mark,” he says.

“Tina,” I blurt out before I know what I’m doing.

“Princess Tina from the kingdom of Berwick,” Mark says with a wolfish grin.

I can’t help myself. I shoot him a flirtatious smile. I’m about to tell him that he looks like Justin Bieber having a bad hair day, in a kind of blended compliment-insult thing, when Nia’s words crash into my head.

Gray, I think it’s him. 
Where?

By Au Bon Pain. He has a dark green trench coat on, but I saw a flash of the hoodie underneath.

“Shit,” I say out loud, grabbing the wheel back from Tina. I toss the paper and bolt for the restaurant.

“Hey, wait a sec,” the Biebs shouts to me.

As I turn the corner of the newsstand, I hear Nia’s frantic words.

He’s pulling something from his coat.

I see him now. He’s standing in front of a plate glass window looking in on a crush of people inside, sitting at tables and queued up behind counters to buy lunch. He’s pulling back a slide on an automatic assault rifle, preparing to pump the first of a hundred rounds of bullets into the crowded restaurant. There’s no time to find a policeman. In seconds loony tunes will be shooting.

We have to stop him, I say, and then I see Nia sprinting at him like me.

We both slam into him at the same time just as he’s leveling the gun to fire, and all three of us tumble to the hard, icy concrete. I’m lying on my side facing Peter Eklend and he’s on his side facing me. I’ve wrenched my shoulder and it’s too painful for me to sit up. Peter Eklend shoots a glare of such hatred at me that I flinch. Then I see that he still has the gun in his hands. Nia is on her feet now, but before she can do anything, Peter pulls the trigger. The explosion brings a sudden quietness to my ears, as if I’ve just gone deaf, and I feel a stabbing hot pain in my chest, as if I’ve been impaled on a red-hot fireplace poker. I cough, sending a froth of blood spraying out of my mouth. I need to breathe, but my lungs aren’t working.

Then my ears start working and I hear Nia scream. Others are now wrestling with Peter. Another shot goes off. It doesn’t hit me.

Gray. Shift. You have to shift!

I’m losing consciousness. I can’t breathe. My lungs are filling with blood. This body is dying. I can feel it. I’m seconds away from the last, icy embrace of death. I have to get out of this body, leave it behind and flee to another body—a healthy, unwounded body. I need to shift now. With one last shred of will power, just as awareness winks out, I shift back to me.

A crowd has gathered around me by now, and I hear a collective gasp when they see me shimmer and change. I’m lying on the ground in a sticky, syrupy pool of blood, but I’m back in my own body now—my own bullet-free body. Nia is immediately at my side pulling me to my feet. Some of Tina’s blood stains my pants and sweatshirt as I roll away from Peter Eklend. I’ve shifted away from death in the nick of time. A strange exhilaration causes my skin to tinkle and a rush of adrenalin floods through me. I’ve evaded eternity by mere nanoseconds.

Run! Nia says, bringing me back to the moment.

http://amzn.to/1rJF2pr




Author Bio: 

K.D. Van Brunt has been writing professionally his entire career and has published an extensive list of nonfiction works. Win the Rings is his first fiction book. When not writing, he reads and listens to audiobooks during his daily drive through the sea of gridlock that is commuting in and out of Washington, DC. A long time resident of Maryland, he can often be found tromping around the many civil war battle sites in the area. To find out more about K.D. Van Brunt, including bonus content relating to Win the Rings, check out his website--www.kdvanbrunt.com--and follow him on twitter--
@KDVanBrunt.

Twitter: @kdvanbrunt

Website: www.kdvanbrunt.com

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/K.D.-Van-Brunt/e/B00IUFSVCG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21395951-win-the-rings

Facebook: www.facebook.com/KDVANBRUNT


Prizes for the tour are as follows:
• One randomly chosen commenter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
• One randomly chosen host will receive a $25 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Follow the tour for more chances to win!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

'Uncharted Storms: Short Stories of Hearts at Risk' by Jackie Anton


Uncharted Storms: Short Stories of Hearts at Risk
by Jackie Anton

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

Weather is our constant companion, and when it behaves like a benevolent parent we pay little attention to it. Angry or out of control it becomes terrifying and can change the landscape as well as lives. So I asked my characters to take a ride on the wild side of weather. “Uncharted Storms” takes readers on a journey from a gentle summer rain to raging storms in the cosmos.

What if you were caught up in Uncharted Storms?

What if? Erica’s world didn’t come to an end in 2012 while she was in middle school? She manages to make it through college before an apocalyptic event changes her life forever. The science fiction story Terra Beyond 2012 shares Erica’s voyage.

What if? You and your best friend were traveling down the highway on the way home from an extended trip when you are caught in a blinding thunderstorm, and then are hit by lightning? To make matters worse you are injured, and wake in a strange world. Find out what happens to Chris in the tale Riding Lightning.

What if? You were on your way to meet a friend for dinner and caught in a flash flood? That is exactly what happens to Alexandra in the story Flashflood Texas Style.

What if? A boy you haven’t seen in two decades winds up sitting on your front porch? Find out what Casey comes up with on A Rainy Night.

What if? You were caught out in a winter storm on icy, drifted, walks and streets when a skidding car comes directly at you? Find out what happened to eighteen-year-old Annie when she is hit from behind in the short story A Tumble in the Snow.

Buy links

Autographed Paperback Copies are available at Jackie’s Author’s Den:
U.S. Readers click on the cover of your choice and follow the Signed Book link to order.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Jackie Anton is the mother of two grown children, and grandmother of two. She and her husband, of forty-three years, continue to ride daily. They live on a mini-farm in rural Ohio, and share their little slice of horse heaven with two Quarter Horses, a Haflinger, a rescued dog, and a calico barn cat.

Jackie is an accomplished equestrian, with a life time of experience: as trainer, exhibitor, 4-H and youth club coach, as well as a horse show judge; the author brings many years of experience working with horses and young riders to her award winning Backyard Horse Tales Series:

Uncharted Storms: Short stories are aimed at the Young Adult and older reader. Look for more short tales in the future.

Backyard Horse Tales: Sox 2nd Edition Brings to light the mutual love between a handicapped colt and a lonely child with a learning disability. Find out how this pair team up to triumph over life’s roadblocks, and why their story won the prestigious Mom’s Choice Award of Excellence for Family Friendly Media. (Reading level age 8 thru Adult)

BYHT 2 “Frosty and the Nightstalker” was one of four finalists in the E-Book Fiction category for the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, then the paperback went on to earn the Mom’s Choice Award for Juvenile Historical Fiction.

Jackie is hard at work on BYHT 3 Don’t Call Me Love. You can catch a peek at her beautiful cover on the Backyard Horse Tales Face Book Fan Page: : http://www.facebook.com/pages/Backyard-Horse-Tales/190283981002767

Author Website: http://talesbyjackie.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jackie.anton2

FB Adult Novel Fan Page: page: http://www.facebook.com/authorjmanton?ref=hl

Email: talesbyjackie@gmail.com

Online Autographed Book Covers: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/backyardhorse

Blog: Writing for readers in a .com world http://jackieanton.com/

Amazon J. M. Anton (adult novels): http://www.amazon.com/author/jmanton

Jackie will be awarding a paperback edition of “Wind River Refuge” penned as J.M. Anton (US only) or a digital edition of "Fateful Waters" (INT) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Follow the tour for more chances to win!

Sunday, June 1, 2014

'Mystic Meadow: Life of a Teenage Trailer Trash Psychic' by Roberta Peters


Blurb:

'Mystic Meadow' follows the story of Gypsea Lanson, whom lives in a camper trailer with her OCD disabled mother. Gypsea encounters many problems, both social and emotional, while in high school; including being a suspected accessory in a shooting. She soon finds herself enthralled in love with a young man named Joseph, but it is nothing of what it seems. She soon sees the dark side of Joseph, but she can't bring herself to let him go. When Joseph's ex-girlfriend shows up with an unexpected surprise, Gypsea's world falls apart.

Love, murder, chaos: Dear Mystic Meadow...

WARNING: This story contains graphic nature and adult content. Reader discretion is advised.

http://amzn.to/T57N0n

About the author:

Roberta Peters grew up in a small town in Texas. She soon found herself bored with small-town living and set out for greener pastures, in South Dakota, where she now lives with her husband of twenty years, her two children, and five grandchildren.

Roberta enjoys writing and loves having a new story in her head. When she is not writing, she is spending her time spoiling her five grandsons whom range in age from four months to ten years old. She is a doting wife and loving church member.

During her spare time Roberta finds herself taking walks on the family farm which sits on 120 acres with a beautiful lake in her backyard. This is where she gets much of her inspiration and her passion for life.

There are many more stories to come from this fun-loving author who has invited us into her world of wonder, chaos, and excitement.