Showing posts with label Giveaway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giveaway. Show all posts

Monday, April 25, 2016

Blog Tour: The Separation





The Separation
Stormy Corrin Russell

Evernight Teen, 83k words
Distopian, Sci-Fi, Romance


In a world where men and women live on separate sides of a massive wall, seventeen year old misfit Eroyn Fairchild has always been too busy with her broken family to wonder why they live the way they do. When a man from the other side breaks through, Ero holds him hostage, hoping for a ransom large enough to pay for her Elder Grace’s treatment. Things get more complicated as the man is followed by two others who make Ero question everything she’s ever known about her life. As Ero searches for the truth, the lines between right and wrong blur, leaving her to choose between saving her city and saving herself.



Buy Links:    Evernight Teen    Amazon    ARe



Teaser: 

One of the things I love about Grace is that she is the heaviest sleeper I know. So heavy, in fact, she doesn’t hear me dragging a thrashing body through the front door at two in the morning. For the first time in my life, I consider it lucky that we live on the outskirts of the north side. If we didn’t, I would never have been able to get it this far without attracting attention. A loud, confused sound starts to come from the net, so I kick it firmly.
        “Shut up,” I hiss, looking around nervously. I’m not worried about Grace rousing, but I don’t want the neighbors waking up and noticing my noisy cargo. I kick twice more, as hard as I can. Silence, finally. With a sigh, I wipe my arm across my forehead, getting rid of the sweat beading there. I sink down on the couch, staring at the large lump inside the net on my living room floor unblinkingly. Little red flowers are blooming all over the heavy white plastic, and they grow quickly. It’s blood, I realize with a sick feeling. It’s seeping through from the inside and leaking onto the clean white carpet of our house. It can’t be real. It just can’t be.
I see Almond cut across the room and sniff at the lump with caution. With one movement, I scoop him up and press him to my chest in horror. For the first time, I realize the danger of what I've just done. I’ve invited a monster into my house.
        I’ve made a horrible, horrible mistake.
It takes Luna ten minutes to get here five minutes faster than usual but it feels like hours. She lets herself in the back door quietly, but I rush into the kitchen to meet her.
        “Where’s Grace?” she asks with urgency, dropping her medical bag on the kitchen table.
        “What? No, I … this isn’t about Grace,” I stutter. I open my mouth once, then again, but it’s no use. Nothing is coming out, so I turn on my heel and tiptoe into the living room. Luna wordlessly follows, eyeing the netted form. I kneel next to it, holding my breath. With shaking hands, I slide the knife into the plastic and pull it upwards slowly. I know what it’s going to reveal when I pull the plastic away, but it still makes my breath leave my lungs in an audible whoosh. I can’t seem to inhale again once it’s gone. I hear Luna do the same next to me.
        “Is it a…?” She leaves her sentence unfinished, and I nod. The small slit I cut in the plastic shows a thick arm under a rolled-up shirt, far too thin for our recently nasty winter. At the very end of the slit, I glimpse a swollen throat and a jaw covered in a dark shadow of hair. A chill runs down my spine and my stomach turns.
        “Is he alive?” Luna asks, her voice small.
        “I … I think so.” I stare at the floor guiltily. “I kicked him pretty hard to shut him up.” She scoots closer and with trembling fingers folds back the plastic to see his side, where most of the blood is coming from.
        “Cut the rest of it off him,” she tells me quietly. I stare at her in shock.
        “But, he––” She cuts me off with a look.
        “He isn’t dead yet, but he will be if I don’t stop the blood loss.”

        I swallow hard, and comply. 



About the author:

Stormy Corrin Russell is from Orwell, Pennsylvania where she first started writing from the moment she could hold a pencil. She still loves to write there and nearly everywhere else. She loves her family, the outdoors, laughing, eating, and her kitten/writing partner, Maya.





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Monday, April 11, 2016

Book Blitz: The Queen's Viper


Title: The Queen’s Viper
Author: Lesley Donaldson
Genre: fantasy, urban fantasy, historical fantasy, contemporary fantasy
Publisher: Aquhorthies Publishing
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: 
Viper is a Blessed One, a Daoine Tor who feeds upon aeir, the life-magic of humans. In Tudor England, she meets Princess Elizabeth and discovers a mysterious amulet that stirs repressed memories. Viper elevates Elizabeth to the English throne to enhance the Kingdom's life-magic and find the amulet. The immortal seeks her kindred, only to encounter a malevolent enemy who imprisons her. Centuries later, Viper inexplicably emerges into 2012 London. She enlists the help of her Foundling, Mouse, and his eclectic cadre of human helpers, to overcome supernatural and man-made threats to her freedom as she seeks revenge upon her nemesis, Annys, and the descendants of the mortals who helped her...starting with Queen Elizabeth II. The Queen's Viper re-imagines Celtic folklore in a story that interweaves history and modern day in a gripping urban fantasy, featuring a complex anti-hero who scoffs at glittery fairy wings.

Bit of extra info: This story is told with two timelines - contemporary and Tudor/Elizabethan history in alternating chapters. SPOILER - There are also "Easter eggs" through the story which lead to book 2.

Warnings: mature themes, violence, sex, strong language




I write books and save lives. I throw axes for fun, and a vampiric unicorn who farts rainbows inhabits my soul.

Between 12 hour nursing shifts and 24 hour parenting shifts, I redefined myself as an authorpreneur with my first book, "Growing A Rainbow: The Premature Journey of a Two Pound Hero." I'm a mother of a former super-preemie with special needs, an often companionable wife, Canadian registered nurse, traveler and hobby medievalist. My debut fiction is "The Queen's Viper," an urban fantasy set in Elizabethan and modern London, with a grimdark spin on UK folklore. I'm also the co-author of "From Blog to Book," published by Publisher P.S.

Sales of "Growing a Rainbow" support The Canadian Premature Babies Foundation. 

Author Links:
Buy Links:
AMAZON LINKS
Print copies can be purchased from the publisher directly from the time being via thequeensviper.com

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Release Day Blitz: Outbreak


Title: Outbreak
Author: Christine Fonseca
Genre: YA Sci-Fi/Action-Adventure
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb: 
Dakota never thought she’d crave her old life in Boresville. Not until the Creator’s assassins came and took everything, everyone, she cared about—all except for David. He’s the only thing she has left, and he wants her to reclaim her so-called gifts once and for all, something that will force her into the very life she’s trying to avoid. 

When a new secret reveals both hope and betrayal, Dakota is forced to face a destiny she no longer wants. Now she must learn how to trust her instincts without becoming the thing she fears most—a killer. 





Award-winning and critically-acclaimed author of fiction and non-fiction. Lover of books, lattes, and family. Passionate about humanity. Recent titles include Transcend, The Solomon Experiment series, and Emotional Intensity in Gifted Students, second edition.

When Christine isn’t writing a book, she can be found sipping too many skinny vanilla lattes next to a beach with a book in her hand.

For more information, visit her website – http://christinefonseca.com.
Author Links:
Author Amazon: http://amzn.to/1ovspOw
Buy Links: Amazon: http://amzn.to/1qksrKX
**Collide, Book One is on sale for #99cents til 4/15**

Seven padded across the room, watchful and silent. He’d learned a few things since the Architect’s death, lessons that included never making yourself too known to others and never becoming too confident of your position within the Order or with the Creator. Both would get you killed. Seven knew he had to play things cool if he was going to survive whatever the Creator had planned.

The floor was cold beneath his bare feet. “Be in touch with the ground whenever you can. You will sense more of the life around you,” the Creator said. “And that will fuel your abilities.” He drilled this into Seven constantly, so much so that he almost never wore shoes at the compound.

But this wasn’t his compound now. That had been destroyed by the very people he was meant to capture. This was something new, some place foreign.

Are you ready for your next assignment? The Creator’s voice soothed Seven’s restlessness.

Yes, Master. Always.

Come to my office. This is something we must discuss first. In person.

Yes, Master. Seven didn’t like feeling summoned by anyone, not even the Creator. Not that he could do anything about it. He was the subordinate, at least for now. One day he would have enough strength to be considered an equal. But not yet. For now, Seven was nothing more than an apprentice.

Seven glanced around his new room, smaller than his quarters in the compound. This place was more like a warehouse, and his room more like a prison cell.

All of the survivors, the few that were left after the vicious attack at the lab, had settled here a few days after the events. Considered nothing more than temporary housing, the facility still looked like the abandoned warehouse it was when they found it over a month ago. Nothing felt like home to any of them, least of all Seven.

He walked to the small mirror that lined the back of his door. His eyes still held the fire, the passion, from before the attack. But there was less naiveté now. Less hubris. Or superiority.
Memories of the attack filled Seven’s mind. The girl that caused the chaos and took the Architect’s life. The boy that fought like a samurai and threatened Seven’s world. The fire that spread through every room, killing many of the recruits, his friends. Seven was not as prepared as he thought; not as strong. He should have been able to stop the two from escaping. If he had—

Seven couldn’t finish the thought. It bothered him to think that his failures were directly responsible for the destruction of the compound. The Creator never blamed Seven, nor had any members of the Order. They didn’t have to—Seven carried the guilt anyway. It powered his motivation, gave him focus.

He noted the scar that stretched across his forehead, over his brow line. It hadn’t existed before that night. Now it served as a reminder, something his guilt could cling to whenever he began to release it.

Why are you still in your quarters?

The Creator’s impatience pulled Seven from his thoughts. Sorry, Master. I’m coming. He closed his eyes and refocused. There was no time for him to wallow, no time to wonder about the past. There was only now, and his need to prove to the Order—to himself—that he was a worthy heir to the Creator.

The walk to his Master’s office seemed longer than usual. Seven’s heavy footfalls on the hard concrete ground sent tremors up his legs, which settled in his torso. Each step brought a new trepidation. Seven again refocused. He couldn’t be in the presence of the Creator in this state. He had to settle his fears and be the disciplined warrior once more.

Voices emanated from behind the closed doors of the office. The Creator’s and more. Seven stopped and stared. Centering his mind, he pushed his thoughts through the heavy, metal door. The Creator’s office came into view. Sterile, stern, unyielding—just like the Creator himself. On the wall projected five pictures, each with one filled with a different member of the Order. Seven looked at his Master, noting the concern etched on his face. As quickly as he’d seen his Master’s emotions, Seven was thrown from the room and back into his own thoughts. He tried again to push into the space but was blocked. Whatever was happening, it was clear the Creator wasn’t about to allow Seven into his inner sanctum. Seven would have to be content to simply listen through the door.

Seven leaned in closer, struggling to make out the muffled sounds. He closed his eyes and focused hard.

“You have failed us for the last time, LeMercier.” The voice was deep, male. And clearly angry.

“What do you mean, failed? Nothing is lost. The experiments can continue.” The Creator spoke in measured tones. “We have everything we need.”

“And what of the Assassin,” a new voice questioned. “You promised she wouldn’t be a problem. She was supposed to have joined you, completed the mission. Instead she is on the loose, out there somewhere.”

Seven had heard this voice before. She had visited the lab once. The Creator had been agitated when she left.

Just like now.

“I am well aware of the Assassin’s whereabouts,” the Creator said. “She poses no threat. When the time is right, she will return to me of her own choice.”

“Can you be sure? Were you not just as certain last time?”

Seven pictured the same frustration on the Creator’s face. “Last time, I—”

The voices quieted, blurred. Seven pressed hard against the door, unable to hear another word. The harder he tried, the less he was able to make out. Only a few strangled words:

“Apprentice . . .”

“. . . will not fail . . .”

“. . . destiny . . . success . . .”

The voices faded completely and Seven edged back from the heavy door, his mind deep in thought.

“Come,” the Creator said, both aloud and through Seven’s thoughts.

Seven straightened, settling his mind before facing the Creator. “Yes, Master. What is my next assignment?” he asked, pretending he’d heard none of his Master’s concerns with the Order.

“You have questions,” the Creator asked. Clearly Seven needed to practice his blocking skills.

“No, Master.”

“You wonder why I am concerned, wonder if you should be concerned as well.”

Yes, Seven needed a lot more practice. “No, Master.”

The Creator scrutinized Seven, touching his thoughts. Seven stilled his body, his mind, everything. He waited until he could feel the Creator withdraw.

The Creator smiled. “Return to your quarters. We will talk tomorrow. This is not the time.”

Before Seven could object, the Creator turned his back, sealing his feelings and thoughts away from the young apprentice.

“Tomorrow,” the Creator said with finality.

“Yes, Master.” Seven returned to his room, a mixture of confusion and apprehension dripping from every pour. Whatever was happening, Seven knew he had to align himself cautiously, had to choose the right side of the impending storm. His survival likely depended on it.

But which side was the right side?

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