Showing posts with label Guest Blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guest Blog. Show all posts

Monday, April 27, 2015

Virtual Book Tour: A Devilish Slumber


Devilish Slumber
The Rue Alliance
Book 1
Shereen Vedam

Genre: Regency paranormal romance

Publisher: ImaJinn Books/Belle Books
Date of Publication:  Feb. 19, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-61194-609-3 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-61194-592-8 (print)
ASIN: B00TT7UGR2

Number of pages: 224
Word Count:  85,000

Cover Artist:  Debra Dixon

Book Description:

Beauty awoke, and then the trouble began . . .

Since dealing with the death of her sister and her abandonment by Sir Phillip Jones, the man who professed to love her, Lady Roselyn Ravenstock has lived as if sleepwalking. Mired in grief, she sequestered herself in her home, avoiding all callers. Then she meets Mrs. Helen Beaumont, and Rose starts to come to life . . . until Helen is murdered. But this time, Rose isn't going back to sleep. Vowing to avenge her friend, Rose dons a costume and goes out into the night looking for a killer.

Sir Phillip, the Regent's favored spy, returns from war determined to win back the woman he was forced to leave three years ago. But when he witnesses Rose covered in blood, racing from a brutal scene while gripping the murder weapon, he goes on a desperate mission to unravel what he hopes is a case of mistaken identity.

The investigation leads Rose into a world of enchantment, where people can re-shape their features, fires are begun with a snap of fingers and objects move of their own accord. But the real magic is the blazing attraction that is re-awakened between her and Phillip.

Will Rose ever get her happily-ever-after? Possibly. But first, she'll have to convince Phillip of her innocence-before the killer strikes again. . . .

Available at   Amazon   Google Books   BN   Chapters


Excerpt: A Devilish Slumber Chapter One

Midnight, Wednesday, April 8, 1813, London, England 

A SCREAM RIPPLED across the misty, dockside air. 

Sir Phillip Jones's pulse lurched at that mournful cry. Gripping his walking stick, he raced down the hilly road of the deserted warehouse district in Wapping. A second muffled scream rang out and was then abruptly cut off. No longer concerned about keeping his movements covert, he ran toward those terrified shrieks. Rounding a corner, he tore past a man staring toward where the screams had come from. 

"Imbecile," the large man grumbled from behind him. 

Phillip was ten feet away before it registered that the man had sworn in French. By then, the woman who ran out of a warehouse gripping a bloody dagger had captured his focus. For a split second, her face was clearly highlighted by a stray shaft of moonlight piercing the mist. He stumbled to a halt, his chest heaving for air as stunned recognition sank in. 

Rose? 

The lady started and swung toward him. Had he spoken aloud? Pulling her hood up, she then sprinted off into the night. 

Phillip instantly gave chase, but when he reached the open warehouse door through which she had fled, he pulled back. If that had been his Rose, he knew where she lived. 

Rapidly retreating footsteps behind him suggested the irate Frenchman, probably a sailor, was also prudently withdrawing from this possible crime scene. 

Inside the warehouse, despite the wide open door, it was pitch black, but that coppery scent of fresh spilled blood was unmistakable in the chilly sea air. Instead of blindly stepping in, Phillip pulled out his candle and circular silver tinderbox from his pocket. He had not survived the dangers of being an intelligence officer for the past five years by acting foolishly during a crisis. 

He methodically placed the candle's wick end into the hole on the lid and struck the flint until the candle lit. Then, with flickering candle attached to the tinderbox's socket, he cautiously proceeded inside, his walking stick, with a sword hidden inside, raised to act as a club. If someone lurked within this warehouse, he would need blunt force, not blade finesse. 

The warehouse was empty except for the victim who was slumped on the grimy floor, blood pooling at her side. Her throat had been slit. Her eyes were wide open as if in shock. He lowered his weapon, placed his candleholder on the ground, and knelt to check for signs of life. Her arm was limp and there was no pulse at the wrist, and not even a hint of a breath. Her skin was still warm, but her spirit had been effectively extinguished. 

With a defeated sigh, he searched her reticule and found calling cards which confirmed her identity. This was indeed Mrs. Beaumont, the woman he had come to meet tonight. Not many from this riverside section of London could afford the luxury of calling cards. Her gown was serviceable, but not of high fashion. He strode restlessly around the empty warehouse, kicking aside empty crates and litter, poking at the walls in search of a hidden door, anything to prove that Rose was unlikely to be the culprit of this crime. 

Anger built as he returned, empty handed, to the body. With a grunt of frustration, he flung his weighty walking stick across the room. It struck the wooden wall with a satisfying bang and then clattered as it rolled across the hollow chamber. 

Shoulders set with resolve, he proceeded with his last distasteful but necessary search. He examined the underside of Mrs. Beaumont's sleeves and delved into her bodice. Nothing. He then lifted her gown in case she had strapped something to her limbs. Disappointed there too, he removed her boots and stripped off her stockings. Finding nary a clue, he carefully redressed her, making sure she would be respectably covered before the river police arrived. All the while, words rang through his mind. That cannot have been Rose running away. 

As he re-positioned her arms at her side, he noticed one of the lady's clenched hands. Pulse speeding in anticipation, he raised her fist for closer study. Probing with his forefinger revealed something held inside her fist. He pried her fingers apart until they revealed a scrunched-up handkerchief. Drawing his candle holder closer, he carefully spread apart the material on the floor. There, on the top right, was a small, black, neatly embroidered crest of a raven. 

That further evidence of Rose's guilt left him in choking silence as he battled the urge to compare it to the handkerchief now burning a hole in his breast pocket. Finally, knowing he had no choice, he pulled out the other and gently unfolded it beside the crumpled one. The two crests were a match. His handkerchief had been a gift from Lady Roselyn Ravenstock. 


GUEST BLOG
“Sparkle” could be my middle name…

Hello! To begin with, thank you very much to Gothic Moms for inviting me into their delightfully creepy on-line home. My name is Shereen Vedam and I write fairytale-inspired Regency fantasy romances. 

Having said all that, I’m terrified I might be in the wrong place! And after reading Review Criteria #2 (even though this book is not being reviewed here), I suspect I’m in danger of being hunted down and killed before this guest blog is finished! Because there’s a good chance “Sparkle” could be my middle name. 

“Shereen” after all translates to “sweet” in several different languages. However, my nickname at university was “Screaming Butterfly,” so fingers crossed I come out at the end of this guest blog post with all my vitally important parts still intact. No Tinkerbell, check. No sparkle, check. No Murder mystery, yikes

That means the only thing going for me is that my novel, A Devilish Slumber, is (speaking in loud voice) a Historical! Set along the dangerous dockside of 1812 London, England, this story begins a 3-book paranormal/fantasy Regency series. Though it should be clearly stated that there are no vampires in the alleyways, just footpads and cut-throats. And although I love witches, the only one in this series doesn’t show up until Book 3. Sigh. 

Well, let’s talk paranormal. How dangerous could that be? This book introduces a unique sect of shape shifters who are in hiding. The heroine’s ability is to change her features to look like anyone she wants. And what she wants is to find whoever killed her last remaining friend and ensure he or she hangs for this vicious crime. 

Rose transforms herself into a young man and, in that guise, goes where a young lady from high society would be forbidden to tread. She even agrees to work with the one man who could break her heart, especially since his prime suspect for this crime is Rose, whom he swears he saw running from the scene of this crime. So Rose has lost faith in a life filled with sparkles. But revenge, now that she can get onside with.

Revenge some say is sweet. But I believe revenge can be bittersweet, because the moment you achieve your end, the very next emotion you will likely feel is regret. What’s your take on this violent, yet often tempting, emotion?


About the Author:

Once upon a time, Shereen Vedam read fantasy and romance novels to entertain herself. Now she writes heartwarming tales braided with threads of magic and love and mystery elements woven in for good measure. She’s a fan of resourceful women, intriguing men, and happily-ever-after endings. If her stories whisk you away to a different realm for a few hours, then Shereen will have achieved one of her life goals.







Blog (A step beyond the ordinary): http://shereentwo.livejournal.com/




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Friday, April 24, 2015

Book Blitz: The Holy Dark


The Holy Dark
The Black Parade Series
Book 3
Kyoko M

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: April 24, 2015

ISBN 10: 1511543736
ISBN 13: 978-1511543736
ASIN: B00VULGGBK

Number of pages: 346 (eBook) 
460 (paperback)

Word Count: 147,000

Cover Artist: Gunjan Kumar 
and Christopher Cold

Book Description: 

Sarcastic demon-slayer extraordinaire Jordan Amador has been locked in a year-long struggle to hunt down the thirty silver coins paid to Judas Iscariot. The mere touch of these coins is enough to kill any angel.

Jordan's demonic opposition grows more desperate with each coin found, so they call on the ultimate reinforcement: Moloch, the Archdemon of War. Moloch puts out a contract on Jordan as well as her estranged husband, the Archangel Michael. Now Jordan and Michael will have to find a way to work together to survive against impossible odds and stop Moloch's plan, or else he’ll wage a war that will wipe out the human race.

Available at Amazon

Guest Blog:
Topic-  "Urban Fantasy vs. Paranormal"

To me, the main difference between urban fantasy and paranormal is based on the setting. Urban Fantasy means it’s set in a modern city setting, and Paranormal can be set at any date, time, and setting. I also associate ghosts, angels, and demons more with paranormal whereas urban fantasy usually has more fairies, vampires, and werewolves. For example, The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher are without a doubt urban fantasy: a smart-mouthed Chicago wizard/private investigator getting into trouble with the local supernatural folk, ranging from fairies to vampires to werewolves to skinwalkers. A good example of a paranormal story would be the 2005 film adaptation of the Hellblazer comic series Constantine, which directly deals with angels and demons as well as mentions of the dead reaching through to those who are still living. It is indeed set in a city, but the subject matter focuses mainly on those strange events that interrupt the everyday, whereas a lot of urban fantasy stories have the supernatural folk either out in the open, or at least somewhat acknowledged by the rest of the world, even if it’s only in certain circles. 

I also think that paranormal deals with more horror elements than your average urban fantasy novel. Urban fantasy can have some creepy things happen, but for the most part it seems to be more about the spectacle and the journey, whereas paranormal novels talk about those things that go bump in the night. For my own series, I know I cross the line in both categories. The Black Parade probably fits closer into paranormal, but She Who Fights Monsters and The Holy Dark cross over into urban fantasy because of Jordan’s world expanding further than the three archangels she is friends with. She finds out about other Seers as well as the entire network of underground angels, demons, Seers, and humans who know about their existence. There’s a world behind the world, as Constantine once put it, and she’s discovering all these techniques and secrets she never knew before as the series continues. It’s an expansion on the mythos I loosely based on Paradise Lost and sections of Christianity, and that lends itself very well to a fantasy setting. 

I don’t have a preference for either genre. I like reading and writing both of them because they have their own sort of flavor to them. I like the open worlds of urban fantasy novels and I like the more concentrated stories in paranormal novels. I fully intend to continue writing in either genre for my future projects because I find them so fascinating. 


Excerpt:

Chattanooga had been a nice place to live for the past ten months, a fact proven by my utter disapproval of the hotel we checked in the following night we left. The safe house was in Montpelier, Vermont and by car it was an eighteen-hour drive. However, the two of us were exhausted from the recent fights we’d had and needed some sleep so we stopped in Newburgh, Connecticut. We’d camp out here for the night and then leave first thing in the morning. 

Myra worked at an office supplies store back in Tennessee, which paid alright, but neither of us were exactly swimming in cash. The hotel we chose was not of the highest caliber. The only benefits it boasted were cable television and air conditioning. I missed my thin pillows and slightly lumpy mattress back home.   

We were behind schedule, but only slightly. Myra went to buy some dinner while I opted for a long, hot shower. It wasn’t a nice place to stay, but it had one admittedly awesome amenity—a handheld sprayer with plenty of settings. I stayed in until my fingertips were pruny, mulling over recent events and hoping that a clear solution would arise. No such luck. We were still on defense. I didn’t like it, not one bit. The weight hanging off my soul was starting to make my knees buckle. I had to fix this. I had to save the angels. I owed them. They had shed blood for me more than once. I wasn’t going to disappoint them, not again. Never again. 

I finished rinsing out my hair and groped for the towel with my eyes closed to avoid getting any residual shampoo in them. Weirdly, my fingers hit nothing but the moist air near the rack. Frowning, I reached out farther. It wasn’t there. Had it fallen onto the floor?

“Lose something?”

I froze. A deep, mocking, dry-as-sandpaper voice. No. Please, God, let it just be my imagination.

I pried my eyes open and ducked my head around the shower curtain. There, in front of the sink, stood a tall, pale-skinned man with shoulder-length hair as black as soot and a smile as sinister as the devil himself. His eyes were the lightest hue of blue that existed and the pupils were thin and diamond-like rather than round. His features were vaguely European—small forehead, narrow nose, thin but sensual lips, arched eyebrows—but I knew he didn’t have an accent. 

He clutched my towel in his long-fingered hand, the other tucked in the pocket of his easily seven-hundred-dollar black suit pants. I recognized his favorite dark color scheme—a charcoal grey button up shirt, black silk tie, and Gucci dress shoes. 

“Looking good, my pet.”

The archdemon Belial was standing in my bathroom.

Shit.




About the Author: 

Kyoko M is an author, a fangirl, and an avid book reader. Her debut novel, The Black Parade, has been on Amazon's Bestseller List at #5 in the Occult Horror category. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Lit degree from the University of Georgia, which gave her every valid excuse to devour book after book with a concentration in Greek mythology and Christian mythology. When not working feverishly on a manuscript (or two), she can be found buried under her Dashboard on Tumblr, or chatting with fellow nerds on Twitter, or curled up with a good Harry Dresden novel on a warm central Florida night. Like any author, she wants nothing more than to contribute something great to the best profession in the world, no matter how small.






Newsletter: http://goo.gl/Wu2WIM 


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Monday, April 20, 2015

Guest Blog: S. M. Spencer


Destiny 
Absent Shadows Trilogy 
Book One
S M Spencer

Genre: Young Adult Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: October 2014

ASIN: B00O6WL9IA

Number of pages:  208
Word Count:  75,000

Cover Artist: BookPOD 

Book Description: 

Destiny: ‘The predetermined or inevitable path a person must follow.’

When nineteen year-old Lili McIntyre decides to trade her California summer for a mid-winter visit to Australia, it’s in hope of finding inspiration and direction in the country where her father was born.

But when she arrives in Melbourne, the first thing she finds is the last thing she’s looking for—a brooding man who makes her heart race every time she sees him.
Against her better judgement, Lili finds herself drawn into a relationship that tests her very beliefs about life, reality and fantasy. But the real test is how to follow her destiny as she faces some of the hardest decisions of her life.

Using a modern theme, the author tells an old fashioned love story that you won’t want to put down, even when you’ve finished the last page.

Available at   Amazon    Brag Medallion




Excerpt:

Sometimes, when something bad happens, time seems to slow to a crawl. 

Like that time I was running to visit my friend who lived down the street. I was only about ten at the time, but it seemed like it was yesterday. I remember exactly how it felt as I ran down that street toward her house. And how, when I was only part way there, I stepped on an acorn and my foot rolled out from under me. As I fell, the pavement got closer and closer to my face—in horrible slow-motion. I hit the ground with my hands stretched out in front of me, scraping the skin off both palms. They barely bled but man they hurt like crazy. 

Yes, I could replay that memory like a slow-motion movie in my head even now—years later. 

But this … well, this wasn’t like that. 

What happened next was like a series of still photos. Tom flew out of the bedroom in a blur, but stopped just long enough for the image of his face to be burnt into my mind. His eyes were no longer soft brown, but were instead a glowing red, and his normally tanned complexion was now pallid grey. 

But what really stood out was the blood that ran down from the corner of his mouth. 

Then I heard Sam’s voice—loud and harsh. ‘Go!’ 

Tom was gone and I heard the door slam.

I closed my eyes for no more than a long blink—it couldn’t have been more than a second—but when I opened them, Sam was in the bedroom, bending over Claire. Was he doing something to her neck? She was so still. 

I ran to the doorway but stopped short of going in. I couldn’t draw a breath to scream or talk. I just stood there, frozen.


Guest Blog:
BEHIND THE STORY - Destiny, Absent Shadows Trilogy, Book One

Hello my name is S M Spencer and I’m the author of the YA paranormal romance trilogy called Absent Shadows that takes place (predominantly) in Melbourne, Australia.

The story is completely fictional; however it is set in real locations. Most of the story takes place in what are some of the oldest parts of Melbourne, namely the Queen Victoria Market and the Flagstaff Gardens. 

I’d like to share with you a bit of the history of this area so you will understand where the inspiration for some of the ghosts that feature in the story came from.

~~***~~

A few years ago, I was working around the corner from Melbourne’s Queen Victoria Market, up near the Flagstaff Gardens. One day while walking around at lunchtime, I started sensing that I the area was the perfect setting for a story about ghosts and vampires. There had been a strong resurgence in the popularity of vampires and ghosts, and I’d always been keenly interested in both. In fact, I’d done a late night ghost tour through the area just a few years earlier. It was on this ghost tour that I first learned the history of the cemetery under the market’s carpark.

When I set out to write the story, I decided to do a bit of research on the area. Of course I headed straight to Google and WIKIPEDIA. I read numerous accounts of the market and the gardens, and although not everything I read appeared to be consistent, the general gist of it was that the area we now call the Flagstaff Gardens was originally referred to as Burial Hill. In the early 1800’s, not long after the colony of Melbourne was established, this became the site of Melbourne’s first burials. 

A few years later a proper cemetery was built, the Melbourne Cemetery, in the area that is now the Queen Victoria Market. This cemetery was used from 1837 until the early 1850’s but was felt to be too small for the growing population. As such, in the early 1850’s, what is now referred to as the Melbourne General Cemetery was built. 

In the early 1900’s there were plans to expand the Queen Victoria Market, so a number of bodies (approximately 900) were exhumed from the Old Melbourne Cemetery and relocated to other cemeteries. Poor records, deterioration of headstones, and numerous other factors prevented the remaining bodies from being exhumed however.

Although there is no doubt that a large number of bodies still remain under the market carpark, the exact number seems somewhat debatable. Some accounts suggested that there were originally over 10,000 bodies in the Old Melbourne Cemetery, so with only approximately 900 having been relocated there would still be in excess of 9,000 remaining.  However, another report suggests that due to a fire in 1864 that destroyed early records, the 10,000 bodies cannot be verified. 

Regardless of the exact number, there is no argument that not all the bodies were exhumed, and when you walk across the carpark, you are walking over the top of some thousands of bodies that reside as little as six feet below. 

Now, with the Melbourne City Council in the midst of massive redevelopment plans for the area, the controversy lives on.

You can read all about the history by simply Googling “Old Melbourne Cemetery”. It makes for some very interesting reading, indeed. 


About the Author: 

S M Spencer was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. 

As a young teenager her mother introduced her to the world of romantic suspense by encouraging her to read the works of authors such as Daphne du Maurier and Mary Stewart. These books stirred a passion in her that would last a lifetime—to become a writer. 

Feeling the need to experience life before embarking on a writing career, Ms Spencer completed a business degree. Her career eventually landed her in Melbourne, Australia, where she has lived ever since. Yet her true passion to be a writer never abated. 

SM Spencer now writes from her home in the outskirts of Melbourne, where she lives with her husband, horses, cats and dogs. 



Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Virtual Book Tour and Guest Post: Devils in the Dark

Devils in the Dark
(The Devil in Miss Drake's Class, 1)
Marcus Damanda

16+ / horror/paranormal/27K


To most of the Facebook 15, bullying Audrey Bales was just a game—until two deep cuts with a Swiss army knife changed everything forever. Audrey didn’t want attention anymore. After five weeks at Fairview High School, Audrey wanted to die.

The doctors did the only thing they could with her: they put her away.

But in Fairview, Virginia, the nightmare is only beginning. The chat session had not gone unobserved. The Facebook 15 have drawn the attention of an ancient evil that lives only to punish those who would prey upon the weak.

They are the ghosts of 1,000 dead children—1,000 suicides—and their master…

Their master likes Audrey Bales.




Buy Links:     Evernight Teen    Amazon



Excerpt:

Underneath the blackened veil of her powered-off monitor, the comments kept coming, kept taunting her.

The observer had stopped watching. He leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling, eyes closed, still eating. The overripe apple had a worm in it, and he sucked it down.

He projected his sight outward, miles and miles from his little home. He didn’t know where he was anymore.

Somebody’s house. An empty room. A closet.

Here he first saw the girl, the one they were tormenting. Her Facebook icon had shown only a skull and crossbones. In real life, she might have been pretty, if she had not worked so hard to hide it.

Familiar too. Something in her eyes and her lips.

She was close, very close, to a bad decision.

She was imagining the ghost of her brother and talking to it, opening boxes that contained his possessions. She listened to him speak words the observer could not hear. Oh, he wished he could. From this distance all he could hear was the pain inside of her, the loneliness, screams within whispers. An oncoming storm.

It made him angry on her behalf.

He returned his gaze to the real world of his apartment. The five of them were still chatting, their cruel banter punctuated by internet abbreviations and emoticons, calling for Audrey-Bear to say something, say something….

More joined the chat.

He shook his head.

You deserve to die, he thought. All of you.
****
Audrey returned to her bedroom and closed the door. This time, she broke a house rule and locked it. She put the blanket back in place and thumbed the monitor back on.

It was nearly one in the morning, yet the number of people on Cody’s page had tripled. Stranger still was the activity coming through on her end.

She gazed in bewilderment.

Benny Talbot has sent you a friend request.

Heather Roberts has sent you a friend request.

Ally Watson has sent you a friend request.

Gabriel Daniels has sent you a friend request.

Eleven requests, all kids from school. Most of them had sent her personal messages too. Some were fake-friendly, some openly mocking. Most pretended to rally in her support, as if they had somehow stumbled upon this Internet lynching by accident, all at the same time, and were offended by it. A virtual party had gathered in Cody’s little corner of cyberspace, and Audrey was the game they were playing.

Had Maggie called or texted them all out of bed?

“Creative,” she said. “You’re really good at this.”

She wasn’t crying anymore. In fact, she was perfectly calm. With the ghost of her brother standing by her side, she set his old Swiss Army knife—he’d gotten it for Scouts, before he had quit—next to the keyboard.

Click Accept, her brother said. For all of them. Now, before they give up and start to log off.

She accepted them all, and the result was chat room bedlam. The comments came faster than she could read. Evidently this was the very height of hilarity.

And, naturally, as soon as she had accepted them all, one-by-one, they unfriended her, and posted.

Just kidding!

Sry! Changed my mind!

What an idiot!

Inspired, she clicked the Like button over every comment. Then, ignoring the perplexed responses to that maneuver, she got to work.

She retrieved the gym shirt from under her bed. Most days this particular item of attire would have remained a crumpled ball in her P.E. locker after school, but she’d had to wear it all day, and so it had come home with her.

“Turn your head, Alex,” she said, as if he were really there.

And as if he were really there, he answered. Not looking, not looking.

Once she had the shirt on and smoothed it out, she sat back at her desk, got out her cell phone, tied her hair in a tail, and took a picture of herself.
****
When the first picture appeared on Cody’s page, the observer knew exactly what was coming. He’d seen it before. The details differed each time, but the common threads were easily picked out: theatrics, spite, spectacle—and from the other end, disbelief. Then there would be panic, frantic attempts to undo the damage, and afterward, there would be remorse.

From most of them.

The picture was off-center. The girl was smiling, posing. The mascara tracks on her face looked like war paint.

Val: OMG, she’s postin selfies!

Cody: Give us a twerk, emo.

How they didn’t see what was coming, the observer could not fathom. But that was part of the pattern too. Bullies, as a rule, didn’t get it until it was too late—for the victim, or less frequently, for themselves.

The observer was truly torn. On the one hand, if she went through with it, she’d set him free. He had made contact with her, though she didn’t know it, and he was the oldest within the host. After many, many years, it was his turn, and he would finally learn what lay beyond this purgatory. But on the other hand, he felt bad for her. He really did.

“Let’s go,” he said to the screen. The suspense was killing him. “What’s next, Audrey?”

A second picture came up even as the first was being liked and shared by nearly everyone on the page. This one silenced most of them.

Audrey was holding an unfolded pocket knife against her cheek with one hand while the other took the picture, still smiling, tilting her head.

At first, the only comment came from Maggie: Drama. Whatever.

Audrey responded: Stick around. This is for your benefit.

Everything slowed down, then. Time rolled out like an empty rug, the Facebook page inert and dead. Minutes passed with nothing.

Then, Val: Audrey?

Still, nothing.

Val again: Audrey, don’t be dumb. Come on.

Five minutes became ten.

Maggie: She went to bed. She wants us to worry all night. As if we would.

After fifteen minutes of relative inactivity, the final picture appeared.

*****

Author Bio:

Marcus Damanda lives in Woodbridge, Virginia with his cat, Shazam. At various times throughout his life, he played bass guitar for the garage heavy metal band.

Mother’s Day, wrote for The Dale City Messenger, and published editorials in The Potomac News and The Freelance Star. Currently, while not plotting his next foray into fictitious suburban mayhem, he spoils his nieces and nephews and teaches middle school English. 


Find Marcus Damanda here:


Guest Post by Marcus Demanda
The Idea Behind The Novel & The Perfect Dream Cast

DEVILS IN THE DARK, and the trilogy it launches, was written shortly after an agent rejected my work, saying, “You’re a talented writer. I might sell you, but I won’t sell your vampires.”

It’s the first non-vampire book I’ve written in ten years, and my goal in its composition was simple: tell a story no one has ever heard before. I knew it would be a horror story, and I knew the target audience would be older teenagers—but at the outset, that’s all I had.

Real-life issues with family, along with similar issues I have to deal with as a teacher, led me to the idea of cyberbullying being at the story’s core. What if a kid was driven nearly to suicide? And what if that kid had unknowingly attracted the attention of a thousand ghosts that really had, as children, taken their own lives?

Oh, yeah, I thought. Let’s go with that.
If I could cast THE DEVIL IN MISS DRAKE’S CLASS, the whole trilogy, as a movie, I'd love to see Maisie Williams in the role of our bullied hero, Audrey Bales, and Thomas Brody-Sangster in the role of Jack Maddox, master of the thousand ghosts. I know those are both GAME OF THRONES choices, but honestly, that's who I see. Williams has the full range of pathos and spunk in her acting repertoire, and Brody-Sangster conjures mystery and dread like he simply sweats it out on a hot day.

In a few years, I imagine Shailene Woodley would be old enough to play the relatively young teacher, Miss Drake. She’s the most popular teacher in the school, even though there are secrets and dark shadows in her past, and I can totally see Woodley pulling off both of those character aspects in her performance.

Give me the old, creepy rock star Meatloaf to play the equally creepy Mr. Downing. Meanwhile, Amandla Stenberg would be absolutely terrific as Monica Adams.

In my fantasy world, I'd take Linda Blair back to her 13th birthday and ask her to play Gale Hastings. Such possibilities, both with her sweetness and her ... other side.

A guy can only dream, you know?


***Giveaway:  1 ecopy of Devils in the Dark to a lucky commenter on any of the participating blogs.  

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Virtual Tour and Guest Blog: Keeper of the Gate

Keeper of the Gate
Paula Kennedy
Evernight Teen 
Paranormal  TeenRomance, 63k


Anna, the girl with flaming red hair and attitude to match, always felt like an outcast. In her final year of high school, when she can’t even connect with the right guy, she meets mysterious bible-loving Devin and feels strangely drawn to him. 

There’s more to Devin than good looks and his weird obsession with scripture, and Anna finally understands the emptiness she’s felt her entire life. Join Anna as she searches for answers about her past with Devin, struggles to accept her true identity, and begins an adventure into the City of Fire to reseal the gates of Hell. 


Buy Links:    Evernight Teen    Amazon




Keeper of the Gate: Guest Blog #1

Thanks so much for inviting me as a guest on your blog. I had a lot of fun writing Keeper of the Gate and let me tell you it was hard when it ended. Who knows what the future holds, however, and my mind is already spinning with ideas for some series books based on Keeper of the Gate.

Today I'd like to talk about my dedication for Keeper of the Gate. Generally, deciding on the dedication takes me time and careful consideration. My first book, after much debate, was dedicated to my husband, "The most patient man in the world" and the second to my parents. With Keeper of the Gate I knew right away who was going to be listed in the dedication. It reads as follows: To Kristen for pushing me to write this story. Kristen is the oldest of my four children with a spit fire of a personality just like her mother. When I told her I was going dedicate my latest book to her because she had inspired me to write it, she crinkled her nose and said, "Book? What book are you talking about?" I had to laugh, and hold onto the nearest solid surface. The heated conversation we'd had so many years ago about what type of book I should write next was just a fleeting moment in her life. She had no idea I'd spent the last two years writing a story based on her desire to read a love story with angels in it. After some prompting and bugging - and possibly some tap dancing and head stands - Kristen finally nodded weakly and smiled.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Book Blitz: Sanguinary


Blog Blitz Headersanguinary final














A Night Shift Novel

Only fifty years left before vampires rule the world.

When Dallas police detective Cami Davis joined the city's vampire unit, she planned to use the job as a stepping-stone to a better position in the department.

But she didn't know then what she knows now: there's a silent war raging between humans and vampires, and the vampires are winning.

So with the help of a disaffected vampire and an ex-cop addict, Cami is going undercover, determined to solve a series of recent murders, discover a way to overthrow the local Sanguinary government, and, in the process, help win the war for the human race.

But can she maintain her own humanity in the process? Or will Cami find herself, along with the rest of the world, pulled under a darkness she cannot oppose?

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Forthcoming October 8, 2014

Order on Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/Sanguinary-Night-Shift-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00MR5VGV8/


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My Top Five Favorite Vampire Books/Series

A Guest Post by Margo Bond Collins  

  1. The Coldest Girl in Coldtown by Holly Black http://www.amazon.com/Coldest-Girl-Coldtown-Holly-Black-ebook/dp/B00BAXFB3C/
I loved Black’s short story of the same name and was initially a little disappointed to discover that the novel was not, in fact, a continuation of the same story but rather a new story set in the same world. But that disappointment quickly disappeared as Black’s novel drew me in. The vampires here are horrifying—and being the single (potential) exception to that rule makes the love-interest vampire equally terrifying and attractive, adding up to the kind of vicarious adrenaline rush that draws me to vampire tales in the first place.
 
  1. Sunshine by Robin McKinley http://www.amazon.com/Sunshine-Robin-McKinley/dp/0515138819/
I re-read this book every year or two—I just finished the latest re-reading in November. McKinley does a beautiful job of setting up a world that is almost, but not exactly, like our own. The eponymous protagonist almost seems to ramble sometimes, but the voice is perfectly her own and the things she reveals about herself are beautifully woven back into the plot. Also, the vampires are creepy as all get-out!  

  1. Quiver by Holly Luhning http://www.amazon.com/Quiver-Holly-Luhning-ebook/dp/B005BTJUHE/
Unlike most of the books I read, Quiver is not speculative fiction. It’s a psychological thriller about obsession—specifically, obsession with Elizabeth Bathory, the psychotic sixteenth-century Hungarian countess who bathed in the blood of her (many!) victims in an attempt to make herself younger. Luhning’s depiction of a dissatisfied academic pulled further into a world of horror and intrigue is both compelling and unsettling. So this isn’t really a “vampire” novel in the strictest sense—but it draws on vampire mythology in interesting ways.  

  1. Guilty Pleasures (Anita Blake, Book 1) by Laurell K. Hamilton http://www.amazon.com/Guilty-Pleasures-Laurell-K-Hamilton-ebook/dp/B0030MTPU6/
This was probably the first book I ever heard called a “urban fantasy”—though the term Hamilton used for it was “paranormal mystery.” In the early novels of this series, Anita Blake, is based more on the gritty noir detective than the romance heroine. Though the series shifts toward the erotic later, the early novels are still among my favorite paranormal mysteries/urban fantasies.

  1. Skinwalker (Jane Yellowrock, Book 1) by Faith Hunter http://www.amazon.com/Skinwalker-Jane-Yellowrock-Book-1-ebook/dp/B002AU7MSG/
This series has landed on my favorite vampires and my favorite shapeshifters lists. I’m a fan of shapeshifter novels in general, and of this series in particular. I like Hunter’s twist on the shapeshifter standards—in these novels, Jane shares her body and her consciousness with a big cat she calls Beast. Watching the two of them negotiating their shared life is almost as much fun as watching them work through whatever mysteries and problems come their way because of Jane’s job as bodyguard to vampires.

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MargoBondCollins
About the Author:

Margo Bond Collins is the author of urban fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal mysteries. She has published a number of novels, including Sanguinary, Taming the Country Star, Legally Undead, Waking Up Dead, and Fairy, Texas. She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. Although writing fiction is her first love, she also teaches college-level English courses online. She enjoys reading romance and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, monsters, cowboys, and villains, and the strong women who love them—and sometimes fight them. _____________________________________________



Connect with Margo
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/margobondcollins
Email: MargoBondCollins@gmail.com
Website: http://www.MargoBondCollins.net
Blog: http://www.MargoBondCollins.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MargoBondCollin @MargoBondCollin
Google+: https://plus.google.com/116484555448104519902
Goodreads Author Page: http://www.goodreads.com/vampirarchy
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MargoBondCollins
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/mbondcollins/

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Sign up to join the Sanguinary Blog Blitz:
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1RLYDdWUKApxPKO5D8-hAQ8p4_EuXrqmSQJBw7OxWWfw/viewform?usp=send_form
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Monday, October 6, 2014

Guest Post: The Secrets About the Horror Genre

The Secrets about the Horror Genre 


About The Unholy 

"A young curandera, a medicine woman, intent on uncovering the secrets of her past is forced into a life-and-death battle against an evil Archbishop. Set in the mystic land of Aztlan, the Unholy is a novel of destiny as healer and slayer. native lore of dreams and visions, shape changing, and natural magic work to spin a neo-gothic web in which sadness and mystery lure the unsuspecting into a twilight realm of discovery and decision." 


Guest Post 

The greatest secret about the horror genre is that it is so multifarious and multiparadigmatic that it defies description. You get S. King with increasingly rich stories as he is ageing, a man who not only has lived and knows horror, but knows longing and love as is evident in his more mature stories written over the past few years especially Lisey’s Story. Then at the other end of the spectrum you get the rough and wild bad boy of horror, Edward Lee. The guy has some seriously demented characters that never ever can be redeemed. I mean what kind of character is the main character in Portrait of a Psychopath as a Young Woman

Horror is such a varied genre. In The Unholy you get more of a classic good guy and bad guy scenario but played out on a supernatural venue featuring the mythopoeic realm of Aztlan. This is a cultural realm with deep spiritual meaning for the mestizos of New Mexico. This is a story of church politics, culture, misogyny, and the struggle to find a sense of self within this multifarious and tormented drama. I don’t think anything short of a horror story (I won’t clean it up at this point by calling it a psychological thriller) could convey the terror of conflicting energies of culture, church, abandonment and the desperate need for courage in a world that seems like it has gone to hell in a church pew! 

I love horror and I love horror because it is so multifaceted, rich, and into extremes that pop out the realities behind the scenes of everyday life. That’s the secret of horror…it’s into extremes so as to express truth…if you got something to say, an old professor of mine used to quip, why not exaggerate to get the point across. Horror does that. The Unholy does horror and goes to extremes to pop out the reality behind what is observable.


About The Author:

Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D., is a psychologist and writer living in Albuquerque, New Mexico who has treated survivors of the dark side of religion for more than 30 years. He is a member of the Depth Psychology Alliance, the Transpersonal Psychology Association and the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy. Dr. DeBlassie writes psychological thrillers with an emphasis on the dark side of the human psyche.

Book Information
Name: Paul DeBlassie III
Book Title: The Unholy
Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Sunstone Press



Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Guest Post and Excerpt by Author Lisa Beth Darling

Guest Post by Lisa Beth Darling

Author of the Of War Series


Why the Greeks?

It often surprises people when I tell them that Ares and Aphrodite aren't just characters in my books they are my Heavenly Mother and Father. Quite literally, for you astrologists out there, I am a Libra with Ares Rising so one could call it fate that they are my Patrons and Characters in My Head.  Yes, you could call it that, all I really know is that I feel as close to them as I do to any living creature—probably even a bit more so.  That can present some very interesting challenges when writing about them as characters. Especially the way I do it. Yes, sometimes I do worry about getting a lightning bolt or fireball in an unpleasant place but, all in all, we just consider it good fun.

Let me explain a bit further so you can understand what would make a little Scots/English/Irish girl like yours truly write about the ancient Greek Gods. Why she would adopt such odd and old pagan ways.
I grew up Roman Catholic and Baptist. (Yes, you read that right.) Up until my senior year of school I was only vague aware that there were any other Gods outside the Holy Trinity. I'd heard of ancient Egyptian 'gods' and old Norse 'gods' they were always treated in an off-handed manner. No respect.  So I never gave them much thought. It was in the 12th grade that my English teacher, Mr. DePeter, totally blew my mind when he gave us the Greek plays and tragedies as assigned reading. 

I truly felt as though I'd 'come home' in a spiritual manner. It was as though some big piece of me that I didn't even know was missing was suddenly filled in for me. My life began to 'click' and to make sense to me. I found the ancient Greek Gods completely fascinating and intriguing. I couldn't get enough.  I read all I could and in the course of that rediscovered other pantheons in books that respected them and didn't treat them as sort of Second Class Citizens. 

Yes the Celtic one did call to me and I do write about it often. I use a lot of the old Celtic ways on my spiritual path it is a rich and very eclectic.  It's my path and it makes me happy it makes me strong, confident, and peaceful. I write about them to honor them, to keep them 'alive' in some small way, to keep the connection between us vibrant so that my soul stays fulfilled.



Author Bio:  


Lisa lives in her hometown of New London, CT with her husband of 28 years, Roy. Together the two have raised two adult daughters and, as of this writing, are anxiously awaiting the arrival of their first grandchild.




WEBSITE     GOODREADS     FACEBOOK     TWITTER     BLOG


Kingdoms of War by Lisa Beth Darling
Of War Finale
July 15, 2014

Synopsis -

With nearly four billion souls lost to the ravages of anarchy and the dreaded disease Major Falls, Ares and Raven journey the Mortal World vainly reaching for a sliver of what was only to discover what will be. Unleashed by Apollo, Major Falls—a weaponized version of the flu and rabies-- has wiped out every person of watery Mortal Blood. 

From the fiery wreckage a new world is slowly arising one where the descendants of Olympians, Celts, Dark Fae, and all manner of Magickal Being will rule. For the last millennium the Dark Kingdom has sent small legions of its Daughters in search of its Lost Queen. Among their number is Lenora, a sharp tongued Dark Fae who joins up with ARES hoping to get close to its leader, Raven. And she does.

The Wolf inside the God of War contracts Major Falls. As Ares and Athena wander the world hoping to curtail further damage by obliterating weapons of mass destruction he slowly succumbs to the sickness taking over his fevered rabid mind. Ares may not live to see the glory of Olympus restored nor fight to keep his Wife. If he does, how high will be the price for Ares' life? How long will Alena have to keep paying Apollo?

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Excerpt (For Adult Eyes Only)-

Ares' hips moved upward in a meaningful stroke, he pierced through her body penetrating deep into her snug walls slick with waiting, making her flinch, making her cringe and shudder. She shrank away from him a moment. The hand cupping her bottom went to her jaw to hold it firmly, "You fear me?  Your Lover?"

There was no flinching or hesitation, "Never."

As she slumped against him, sliding further down on him, Ares dark eyes rolled back in his head until only the whites showed below his fluttering lids. For a second his knees threatened to give out he began sinking to floor.  Letting go of her wrists pinned above her head he expected her arms to fall limp at her sides but they didn't they wrapped around him filling him with a new strength as they raked across his back and called to his wild nature.  Feeling the fire explode to a full grown inferno, Ares stood up again planting his hand on her ass, the palm encircling her jaw eased over her chin, caressed her neck, just before it clamped around her throat as his lips closed down over hers, he felt it work hard as his tongue invaded her mouth, cutting off her air.  The legs around his waist squeezed, the wet walls suckling his cock swelled, and instead of fighting for precious air she kept her legs locked tight, using her thighs to pump up and down on him, to grind against him and welcome him home.

For what seemed forever, lost in the velvet embrace of pleasure, Ares forgot himself.  It was easy given her enthusiastic reception.  He bent deeply at the knees, surging upward time and again with a quickening pace that she did not deny but encouraged with rocking grinding hips and her talented tongue.  With the intoxicating scents of musk, honeysuckle, and the deep green of the forest filling the air, he reached down to plant his forearm under her for her ass to rest upon.  He found the soft flesh slick with the oil of their lovemaking, so he gripped the cold rock for better purchase. 

Liking her new perch, Alena kept going, she kept grinding and writhing, taking all of him inside as she moaned with the bliss of passion.  The sweet sound echoing in his head making it even lighter, until he thought he'd float away with rest of the world and all of its cares.



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