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

Friday, June 26, 2015

Blog Tour: The Blood of Woobane




Horror
Date Published: January 2015


Once they bayou was thick with it. The buttery yellow petals. The delicately veined green leaves. The seductive scent of wolfbane.

The DAWN OF DOOM...

Philip was happy now that he had his pint of old character and decided to take a shortcut through the graveyard toward home. He paused every now and then to speak to the headstones or crypt of some poor departed soul he had known it better days. Then he heard a moaning. He looked around, spotting a huge mound of earth that he did not remember being there the last time, he took this short cut. Philip decided to look. He staggered toward the mound of earth, stopping as he heard a snarling sound. It was muffled, as it came from the grave itself.

Excerpt
SATAN’S WORK

The cats lay silent in their hidden places, waiting out the storm…and watching, as strange, misshapen creatures rose from out of the ground, cooing out of the dark swamps. The Beasts stood in the rain; they were not fearful of this rain, for they knew it had been sent by their Master. They stretched their arms and loosened their muscles. They had been asleep for a long, long time. And now they were free.

Huge, clawed hands waved through the wet air powerful jaws that dripped stinking saliva snapped at nothing. The fangs of the Beast were four to five inches long, and yellow. The creatures, well over six feet tall when erect, weighed between two hundred and fifty and three hundred pounds. Their eyes were small and evil, with Hell-sent hate shining bloodred. Their bodies were covered with thick, coarse hair.

The cats lay concealed and watched the Beasts as they stretched and growled. And the cats knew that the devil’s work had just begun….


Guest Post
Hardest thing about character development

The character have to talk like themselves and not how I would talk sometimes that involves me talking out loud to see how it sounds.  It is too much like me, then I need to change it especially  if it is  a teenager.




My favorite authors are: 

1. Clive Barker; It is impossible to please everyone when it comes to any form of top 10.  List

2.     Joe Lansdale is one versatile due very spooky

3. Dan Simmons approaches horror well, he’s an attention thief.

4. Dean Koontz I myself however, still consider the man an excellent write who, when he gets it right, gets it really right.

5.    Ramsey Campbell; The man’s mind seems to function on the same intricate plane, that Clive Barker Traverses, and I love it.

6.    Stephen King: isn’t remotely near as Campbell or  even as prolific as Koontz. But he’s got magic in his mind, and it bleeds onto paper in wondrous fashion.

7.     Edgar Allen POE; He creates so much suspense and it’s like he’s right they’re telling you an ancient story that has been passed  down from generations but had neither there less decreased its scariness   

8.      Bram Stoker; One of the greatest writers of all  genres, of the 20th centaury.

9.      Bentley Little; His novels made me stay awake all night, unable to put it down.

10.    Peter Staub;  Every book has written has entranced me spooked the heck out of me.


10 things readers would be surprised to know about me

1. I love to cook
2. I love doges 
3. I three younger sisters
4. My son is my best friend
5. I  love music 
6. I love to read a good horror book

Day  in   my writing life

1 alarm goes off and  I’m to work  checked e-mail
worked 8 hour come home shower, eat dinner  check email
 and phones messages write  for 3 hours

About the Author

Joann Harris was born in Durham, North Carolina and from an early age, she always wanted to write horror. What is it about horror that she finds so tantalizing? For one she finds terror a thrill a minute. Even when she was a teen she taunted her friends and relatives with stories about blood and gore, embellishing on the sordid details as they squirmed and cringed. Harris currently resides in Baltimore, Maryland.





Purchase Links


Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Guest Blog: Spell of Shattering


Spell of Shattering 
Dark Caster Series 
Book 4
Anna Abner

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: Mild Red Books

Date of Publication: June 20, 2015

ISBN 978-0-09914031-4-1
ASIN: B00XDBNURI

Number of pages: 275
Word Count: 70K

Cover Artist: Jaycee DeLorenzo 
at Sweet & Spicy Designs

Book Description:

Dive into the heart-pounding final chapter of the Dark Caster series! 

If the Chaos Gate opens… 

Demons will infest the world. 

When the charismatic mayor of Auburn hires junior agent Jessa McAvoy to acquire him a very specific property, she hopes this is her big break. She’ll do anything to make her first real estate client happy, but the one favor he asks of her is impossible—convince her former friend Derek Walker to come out of hiding. Doing so will not only bring her into the orbit of dangerous casters, but force her to confront long-buried feelings for her missing friend. 

After failing his tasks for the Dark Caster, necromancer Derek Walker is hiding in Alaska from his humiliating defeats as a card-carrying member of an evil dark cabal. But when his old boss begins opening the Chaos Gate, there is nowhere on earth Derek can hide. With no other options, he must return to the last place he wants to go—home. 

When Derek Walker joins forces with Jessa and the entire Raleigh coven, the dark cabal’s biggest disappointment may be the only thing standing between earth and total destruction. 

Available at Amazon

Excerpt:

Spell of Shattering (Dark Caster #4) by Anna Abner Excerpt

With a little pressure, Derek Walker punched his boning knife through the throat of a dead Silver Salmon. Working the knife like a saw, he removed the head and tossed it into the trash, and then got to work gutting the unlucky creature. Bright fish blood swirled in the lake below, creating an abstract waterscape.
Bo’s voice carried over the sound of the lapping tide. "Ice is the strongest element there is," he shouted at Stubby.
They were certainly surrounded by the stuff. Bits of frost clumped in Bo’s scraggly beard, heavy snow clung to drooping tree limbs, and gray clouds swept across the sky ready to shower ice upon their heads at any moment. Derek hoped the storm would hold off a little while longer, though, at least until the men finished fishing.
"Bullshit." Bo’s friend Stubby dug through the nearby cooler but came up empty. The six-pack was long gone, and it wasn’t even ten a.m. Frustrated, Stubby spit brown tobacco juice into the mud. "Fire's stronger than ice."
Derek shifted weight from one foot to the other and skidded in the mud, catching himself on a rock. It may be August in Alaska, but the wet ground around Bear Lake at first light was cold and seeped through his sneakers.
"No it ain't," Bo argued. "Glaciers carved up the earth, you dummy. A few drops of frozen water will break boulders." He waved Stubby off. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Stubby seemed to take the argument personally. "Fire melts ice. End of story."
Derek prayed it was, but of course, it wasn't. Bo and Stubby could argue for hours over the most accurate brand of deer rifle, the stoutest superhero, or the most potent tequila. The latest debate over nature’s most dangerous element could rage on for days.
Derek sliced up two beautiful fish fillets and wrapped them in paper for his boss’s dinner. Most likely, Derek would sear them on the grill with some peppers and serve them up tonight to a small house party of world-class belchers and bearded survivalists on Bo’s deck.
It surprised Derek he could even wield a knife or a BBQ grill in his condition. The memory spell Holden Clark had hit him with four months ago had devastated his mind. Literally. He may as well have dropped him headfirst from a forty-story building onto broken glass and concrete. Holden had stolen every single memory, skill, and instinct Derek possessed, leaving him alive but hollow.
Waking in a hospital bed blank and vulnerable had been the most terrifying moment of his life. He picked up the second fish and attacked it with the knife.
Generally, the work he did as Bo’s assistant was exhausting, which suited Derek just fine. He didn’t need the money. He needed the distraction.
Actually, it wasn't that much different from the work he’d done in Auburn as Rebecca Powell's assistant. Then, he’d redecorated houses, delivered paperwork, sometimes picked up coffee and her dry cleaning, and most of the time surfed on his computer or chatted with Jessa McAvoy, the adorable junior agent working as Rebecca's protégé. Here, he bought groceries, cooked rudimentary meals, lugged trash to the dump, and drove Bo home when he drank too much.
Whether it was good living or not didn’t enter his mind. It was just living.
"All done, boss," Derek said with effort, throwing the last of the slimy scraps into the trash and tucking the fillets into the cooler. It was a constant struggle to form words and transfer them to his tongue. He was getting better, but he feared he would never be whole again.
"Anything else?" Derek asked, rinsing his bloody hands in the icy lake.
"Yeah, run into town and get another twelve pack, will ya'?" Bo asked.
"Sure." He ambled for Bo’s pickup, jingling a ring of keys as he went.
“You’re putting too much weight on your bobber again,” Stubby accused. “You’ll never catch anything that way.”
“You don’t know what you’re yammering about,” Bo shot back. “I’ve caught twice as many fish as you have, and that’s just today!”
Derek climbed into the truck before he caught Stubby’s reply.
He didn't care. He didn't care about much anymore. Even after the memory-destroying spell had been reversed, he still wasn't the same. Like tying shoelaces. He just couldn't get it. No matter how many YouTube videos he watched, he couldn't make the bunny go round the tree or the fox go in the hole or whatever nonsense he was supposed to do with ease. It worried him how much he didn't remember. What else was gone, never to return?
Kissing, for one. Surely, he must have kissed a woman at some point—he was a grown man—but he couldn't recall specifics. Or even gather the desire to try it again. It seemed silly to him. That and sex. Bizarre, pointless endeavors when he had other much more important stuff to worry about.
Like how he was…
"…A huge fucking disappointment," the spirit spat at him. "A total waste of good space. You think you deserve a second chance? What have you ever done…"
A grizzly of a dead man with a full beard and hunters cap hovered beside Bo’s truck, a gleeful smile on his pudgy face. For the past four months, the ghost had been his unwanted but constant companion.
Derek tuned out the ranting. It was getting a little easier. Night was the hardest. Trying to sleep while a nasty ghost screamed obscenities and curse words at him from the ceiling was challenging. Ear plugs only muffled the noise. They didn’t erase it completely.
The irony was, Derek was especially good at shield spells. With a spirit’s assistance, he could produce an invisible barrier impenetrable to both magic and spirit chatter. With a spirit of his own, Derek could cast banishing spells on all the ghosts the Dark Caster sent to torment his every waking moment. But Derek didn't have a spirit companion anymore. Robert had been destroyed back in Auburn, North Carolina in the magical fiasco that had stolen Derek's memories. And a necromancer without a spirit was just a man.
Almost the way a stray, foul-mouthed ghost couldn’t do any real damage without a necromancer to channel his spirit power.
He and the taunting soul were in the same boat—stuck with each other and frustrated.
It didn’t make listening to his insults any easier.
“Go away,” Derek murmured.
“What’s that, you miserable piece of crap?”
Clenching his jaw, Derek glared through the mud-streaked windshield at his new boss reclining in his favorite camp chair.
“Lost your voice?” the spirit taunted. “Loser,” he chanted. “Imbecile. Idiot.”
Alaska seemed far enough away to be safe.
So far, the worst the Dark Caster had managed since Derek’s escape was the big-mouthed ghost clinging to the inside of the truck.
Derek cranked the engine and steered away from the lake at a leisurely five miles an hour. Driving was something he had only re-learned since he’d been in Alaska. With the way Bo drank, it was a necessity.
Derek drove slow. Probably too slow. He remembered, vaguely, driving his former sports car fast on long, lonely stretches of highway, taking turns at warp speed and weaving recklessly through freeway traffic. Not anymore. Now, he was worse than an old woman. He didn't drive the speed limit. He drove under it. When Bo teased him about it, which Bo loved to do at all times about all things, Derek blamed it on the rain and snow, but it honestly had little to do with weather conditions.
Just one more thing Holden Clark had stolen from him.
He parked in front of the town's shopping center, bypassing a hardware store, a smoke-filled tavern, and the post office to pull open the heavy glass doors of a grocery store. Derek selected a twelve-pack of cheap, cold beer from the refrigerator case in the rear of the shop, and when he spun around, he came face-to-face with the eighteen-year-old checkout girl.
"Hi, Derek," she said, grinning brightly.
It was too cold, too quiet, and too depressing to be so happy.
"Hello," he returned, veering around her.
"Going fishing again?" she asked, trailing him down the baked-goods aisle.
"Bo is." Derek didn't fish. He’d never learned and didn’t see the point.
"I love to fish," she exclaimed, scampering behind the register as he set the beer on the counter. "I'll teach you how. I mean, if you don't know how. Do you know how?"
While he rearranged possible responses in his mind, he studied the girl. Lea, read her nametag. She was young and dewy, and he envied the ease with which she spit out words, but something was missing. There was no light in her. An overabundance of enthusiasm, but no inner glow.
The thought of touching her in any way, let alone kissing her, made him slightly queasy. Definitely uncomfortable. And not in a good way.
"No, thanks," he said, the same as every other time Lea had invited him somewhere.
Her face fell. "Oh. Yeah. Some other time."
He paid for the beer with Bo's credit card and turned to leave.
"You're gay, right?" Lea called after him. "That's it. You only like boys?"
He lowered his eyes and exited fast, tossing the beer in the cab of the pick-up.
Derek had been called worse in his life. It hardly bothered him anymore. He knew what kind of person attracted him. At least, he used to know. Since Holden's spell, it was hard to say what turned him on anymore because nothing did.
He just wasn't interested in being tangled up in someone else's life. Or worse, someone tangling up in his. Because his was a twisted disaster of epic proportions.
To prove it, as if Derek held any doubts, his least favorite ghost appeared in the seat beside him.
“Worthless,” he repeated, making his voice purposefully ominous. “Worthless…worthless…worthless…”
Arriving at the lake a bit distracted, Derek stomped around thick-trunked trees toward Bo and Stubby's camp chairs and silently arranged the twelve-pack in their cooler.
"Thanks, my friend," Bo exclaimed. "Come pick us up later."
"I will." Until then, Derek would be working on his cabin. Struggling, he finally spit out, "Text me if you need anything."
Once Bo and Stubby started drinking, though, they’d be arguing good-naturedly and downing cold beers for hours. Derek would have the rest of the day to himself.
“…just kill yourself already…you spineless worm…” The Dark Caster’s spirit trailed him toward the truck. “…cut your own throat, and I’ll laugh while you die…”

Or maybe not.


About the Author:

Anna Abner lived in a haunted house for three years and grew up talking to imaginary friends. In her professional life, she has been a Realtor, a childcare provider, and a teacher. Now, she writes edge-of-your-seat paranormal romances and blogs from her home in coastal North Carolina about ghosts and magic. You can connect with her online at AnnaAbner.com. 



@AnnaAbner



Local Mystery Man Derek Walker Spotted at the Raleigh Airport By Ray X

Just when you thought things couldn’t get stranger in former bad boy Derek Walker’s life, he showed up at the Raleigh International Airport two days ago looking scruffy and tattered. Things are not looking up for my favorite decorator to the rich and fabulous.

Q: Derek! Oh, my God, is that really you? Where have you been?
A: …
Q: [I spotted the tag on his gym bag.] You were in Alaska? Were you there for business or pleasure? Do you have family there?
A: …
Q: Derek, why won’t you talk to me? We used to be friends, didn’t we?
A: We were friends?
Q: Yeah, of course. We met at the Battleship Bar like a million times. You were the best wing man I’ve ever had.
A: I don’t remember.
Q: Wait, don’t leave! Come on. What were you doing in Alaska? Is that where you’ve been hiding for the past four months?
A: …
Q: Can I ask about the car crash? No, don’t get in that taxi. Derek!

And he was gone. So, friends, what is your take on the mystery that is Derek Walker? Is he home for good? Is he recovered from that frightening single-car accident he caused in April? And why in God’s name was he summering in Alaska?


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Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Guest Blog: Alina Popescu


The Breaking of Bonds Tour Banner
Title: The Breaking of Bonds
Series: Bad Blood, Book Two
Author: Alina Popescu
Genre: paranormal, supernatural, paranormal romance, vampire
Length: Novel

Synopsis

A human sacrifice throws vampires of two worlds, trueborn and baseborn, into an escalating conflict. One side pushes for revenge, the other for freedom. The trueborns stubbornly hunt for Anthony and Louis, pushed by Hesrah’s desire to avenge her human best friend, Alexa. The baseborns are divided between rallying with those challenging the rule of Ankhsis and obeying the trueborns.
breakingbonds_promo
What emerges from the portal between Earth and Ankhsis in the middle of the turmoil rocking both worlds is more dead than alive. Neither human, nor baseborn, and certainly not trueborn. This new being will either damn them all or be their race’s most powerful weapon. Will they trust it not to destroy them, or will Ankhsis decide putting it down is the only solution?
In the end, who is guilty? Who will pay? Will anyone survive its wrath?

Book Trailer


Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00Y4P5C5U
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00Y4P5C5U
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00Y4P5C5U
Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B00Y4P5C5U
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-breaking-of-bonds-alina-popescu/1122051367?ean=2940151945226
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thebreakingofbonds-1814960-140.html
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/546554
2
Make sure you read book one of the series before enjoying book two!

The Edge of Hope – Bad Blood Trilogy, Book 1

badblood cover blog promoEveryone she loved betrayed her. She felt lost and broken. Getting away from the pain and embracing a new path, Alexa decided to leave her old life behind and chase a long forgotten dream in Malta. There she met a gorgeous man, bearing the scent of fresh love. He led her to a new city to explore, Amsterdam. Is the tall, dark, and delicious man a dream come true or just a risky gamble?

Alexa chose hope and new beginnings over fear and warning signs only to be brutally dragged into a world she never really thought existed. Vampires, their feuds, and her future held tightly in their hands.

Trapped in a mysterious world, Alexa gives love chance after chance. Following her quest of self-discovery in a blood bound world, will she survive the journey?

Take advantage of the sale for The Edge of Hope – $0.99 everywhere
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JEBJXDQ
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00JEBJXDQ
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00JEBJXDQ
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-edge-of-hope-alina-popescu/1119064391?ean=9781497436305
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theedgeofhope-1472664-143.html
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/424918

Excerpt

I shook my head, trying to focus on Seth. “Don’t move,” I said in what I imagined was a stern voice, but to be honest, it shook a little. “Not a muscle.”

“What are you doing,” Seth asked. He did not seem scared either, but he certainly did not trust me around him. 

“Just shut up and do as I say!”

I got closer to him and it all became harder to bear. The smell of his blood, the sight of it, the sound of it running through his veins, the scent of his sweat, it all made my vision blurry. My head was pounding and my stomach hurt worse than ever before. I reached out and put one hand on his shoulder, right next to the bite. I took a few deep breaths, but I tried to get used to the feeling of his skin under my touch and all that closeness to… well, my favorite dish. When it seemed to become something I could take without sucking him dry, I pushed his head toward his right shoulder. He resisted the move but finally moved it. 

The closer my lips got to the bite, the harder it was to keep in mind what I was supposed to do. I was breathing heavily and moaning, I think. There were some sounds coming out of my throat, but I was unsure what it all was. I licked tentatively and stopped when my brain registered the taste of his blood. I had vivid images about bleeding him dry distracting me, but I pushed through and continue to lick the fang marks a little longer, till I was sure I had covered it all in my saliva. 

All I wanted was to be far from him, fast. And the moment the thought formed in my mind, I started running backwards. I bumped into the furthermost wall and stopped. Seth and Magnus seemed to react very slowly, as if they were moving in slow motion. I could see their startled expressions at the sudden move but only long seconds after I had touched the wall. 

“All right, it seems you also have speed. Almost full feral powers on Ankhsis. That will certainly be a problem,” Magnus said in a surprisingly steady voice. In my experience, people tended to panic a little when they discovered a problem. Oh, shit was one of my go-to phrases. 

After making it through the earlier challenge, I started to trust my abilities of self-control more. So I walked back to the bed and sat on the very same chair that Seth had been sitting on when I had woken up.

“Are you OK?” My shaky voice made me cringe a little.

“Yeah, fantastic,” Seth mumbled, arching a brow and staring right at me. It did not take a genius to figure out he was being sarcastic; even Sheldon Cooper would have picked up on it that one time. 

“I’m really sorry.” I winced at the thought of what could have happened and averted my eyes. 

“I’m sorry, that was harsh,” he said, taking me by surprise. I hadn’t expected him to let it go so quickly. I sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten over someone trying to suck the life out of me so quickly. “We’re both new to this, I guess. I am not used to be someone’s prey; you don’t know how to control your urges. My ego is what you have bruised the most.’

“I truly am sorry, Seth! It really is unlike me to behave like that.”

“You mean bleed strange men dry after trying to sexually take advantage of them?” He smirked but his smugness was not funny in the least.

“I don’t remember you resisting that second part much.” I sneered and clenched my fists, starting to feel less guilty for having attacked him. 

“Now, now, kids! Don’t fight,” Magnus said, getting closer to us, probably imagining they could have done a better job at stopping me together. 

The anger was so thick I could have cut it with a knife… if it took a material form. Oh, damn it, who cared, I felt it seething and my stomach coiled with the need to cause some damage and fill up on blood in the process.

“Oh, no, Alexa, I wouldn’t dare say I wouldn’t have… encouraged you to have your way with me,” Seth continued on the same half-amused, half-mocking tone. “But see, I was not the one calling some idiot’s name when I finally emerged from the portal.”

I couldn’t say if I ever had a chance to even think I should try to control my rage. I just threw Magnus across the room, grabbed Seth by the neck and jumped on top of him, on the bed. I could have just squeezed his neck a little and there would be no more mocking me. 

The skin on my inner thighs was touching his abs. A perfect six pack, I could feel it without looking. The raw sexual desire slowly overpowered the anger and the hunger. He was smiling, I eventually noticed. His hands were suddenly moving and I shivered at his soft but steady touch. He caressed me from my ankles upward over my knees and finally settled around my waist. I could smell his arousal and it only made my physical reaction worse. 

“Want to forget about him for a while?” Seth asked and I realized I had stopped holding him by his neck and I was tracing his upper arm muscles instead. I ran across the room once more. I heard him laugh, so I just ran out of the room and out the door. I kept running down the stony alley and into the woods.


Guest Post by Alina Popescu
Sometimes things don’t go according to plan

I’ve spoken about my writing process at length. I start to write the script in my head, I see the characters interacting as their journey comes to life, and when every piece of the puzzle is worked into the thread, I start writing. By the time I start typing it all out on my computer, I know where I’m going. But sometimes characters are nothing but menaces that just won’t go along with my initial plan. 

With the Bad Blood trilogy, that happened twice so far. The first time was easy. I was planning out The Edge of Hope and Louis came out of nowhere, demanding his place in my story. He wouldn’t shut up about it, so I included him in Alexa’s story line early on. It turned out she needed Louis, in more ways than I could have guessed. 

The second time… well, this happened during my planning phase for book two, The Breaking of Bonds. I was used to it by now, but then it happened again while I was writing the story. Seth refused to be a good little supporting character. His relationship with the female lead was supposed to be a sexually charged one, but never move past an initial distraction. Seth was not supposed to play a more significant role in the story. 

Boy, was I wrong! I was dead wrong about him and his importance, or so he kept claiming. I went along with it because I now know better than to fight it. I suppose it’s up to the readers to decide if it was the right call. 

The bottom line is things don’t always follow the path you’ve imagined they would. Characters are loud mouths that refuse to let you shut them up. Stories change, and sometimes the shift is so shattering, you can’t help freaking out a bit. Okay, a lot. The right thing to do? Breathe, relax, and trust the story you’ve imagined and the characters you’ve created. For all intents and purposes, they are not real. But they are the voices of your instincts, telling you where you should go. 

Giveaway

Prizes: 3 e-copies of The Edge of Hope, 2 e-copies of The Breaking of Bonds, 1 bundle of Bad Blood, books 1 & 2
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1

About the author

Writer, traveler, and coffee addict, Alina Popescu has been in love with books all her life. She started writing when she was ten and even won awards in local competitions. She has always been drawn to sci-fi, fantasy, and the supernatural realm, which explains her deep love for vampires and is also to blame for this trilogy.

Social Links
Site & Blog: http://alina-popescu.com
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/authoralinapopescu
Twitter: http://twitter.com/alina_popescu
Instagram: http://instagram.com/alinapopescuwriter
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/alina-popescu
Google+:  https://www.google.com/+AlinaPopescu
Amazon:  http://amazon.com/author/alinapopescu

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Guest Post and Spotlight: 2 Worlds 2 Men


BLURB:

Jocelyn and Neely are having a perfectly pleasant dinner at the Sheep Heid Inn when it happens: Jocelyn suddenly finds herself sitting across the table, not from Neely, but a strange man dressed in medieval garb. This man is no apparition. His eyes, the deepest brown, clearly look on her in intimacy; his touch causes her pulse to rise.  Jocelyn realizes two things: from his clothes, he is clearly an aristocrat, and that she, Jocelyn Stewart, seems to be in some sort of romantic relationship with him! Minutes later Jocelyn returns to Neely, in the present day, weak and terrified. Together they begin to unravel the forgotten past and find themselves facing the reality of medieval Scotland. A strange world steeped in folklore and superstition; where life begins and often ends with the sword. 

As Jocelyn travels back to medieval times she learns that the man she keeps seeing is no other than Sir Colin Campbell of the powerful Campbell Clan. When Jocelyn is with Colin, she wants never to leave his side; then she returns to the present and cannot imagine herself with anyone but Neely. Jocelyn struggles with a choice. 

Which man will gain her heart when both offer such different love? She is in love with two different men in two different worlds.


Excerpt:

Jocelyn looked around for the driver who was supposed to be waiting for her arrival with a sign. She had hired someone to pick her up because, as an American and first-time visitor to Scotland, she had figured it would be less stressful.

She didn’t see the driver anywhere; then, just as she started feeling nervous, she saw a man holding a sign with her name on it. And what a man he was! He was broad shouldered, strong and had dark brown hair with reddish tints. He exuded masculinity like some cologne, and even across the airport, she thought she could smell it. Smoothing her unruly hair, she started to walk over to him.

The man, seeing her approach him, took a step toward her. “Are you, Jocelyn?”

When he spoke her name, she found herself frozen in place unable to respond. She’d heard this voice before; she knew this voice. This man spoke her name exactly like the dream she had had all those years ago! She had been stirred awake in bed by a voice of a man, who spoke her name with a Scottish accent. His voice was gentle and low; as if he wanted to gain her attention, but not cause her alarm. Jocelyn had clutched the sheets to her chest and stared out into the darkness of her bedroom almost feeling his intimate presence beside her. She lifted her hand up to her ear having sworn his warm breath had brushed her skin. Jocelyn remembered she had turned her head, anxiously, toward the pillow next to her and almost thought she would be looking into the eyes of a stranger; yet she had not been frightened. This man, his voice, somehow comforted her.

Now, she stood in the airport and caught her breath as she faced the man before her. Her eyes searched his face for something; though what it was she wasn’t sure. Jocelyn felt her heart beating so fast she was certain the man could hear it as memories flooded her mind of that night so long ago when he or someone spoke her name in the darkness. Was that the reason for her vacation to Scotland? Was she unconsciously trying to find the man?


“Have you always been a fan of Paranormal?” 
By Joy Frawley

As a kid I remember being inspired by Paranormal stories, such as C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I was totally smitten with the idea of walking into a wardrobe that led to another world filled with strange creatures and adventure. What child wouldn’t want a talking lion as a friend and protector? However, I had no idea that one day I would write my own Paranormal adventure with Two Worlds Two Men. 

For me, the attraction with Paranormal stories is that we can be transported into a completely different realm. There are no limits or boundaries to imagination. When we read a standard modern day story we can somewhat predict what kind of lifestyle the characters live such as housing, foods, and the workplace. We often have those same habits or features in our own lives. When reading Paranormal the reader breaks free of probabilities or the ability to necessarily know what is going to happen next. In Two Worlds Two Men the reader goes back and forth between modern day Edinburgh and medieval Scotland. Most of us, myself included, do not have firsthand experience in the lifestyle of a woman in the medieval Highlands so that aspect alone leaves the reader somewhat uncertain what features he/she will read next. I find that exciting. Paranormal is fun on both sides, both as a reader and a writer, because our imagination is one of the most unique aspects of humanity. Having an outlet like Paranormal books gives us all an opportunity to stretch that imagination to whatever limits we allow ourselves. What do you feel like today? A bit of futuristic space travel or maybe a trip back to King Arthur’s court? Whatever your poison may be you can rest assured you will find that passion quenched in a Paranormal book. 


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Joy Frawley is an author and writer of the upcoming romance novella; Two Worlds, Two Men due to release on October 2014 by Resplendence Publishing. Joy lives in beautiful Traverse City, Michigan relishing in living the life of the classic “townie” with her two dogs Piggs and Diggs. 



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Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Name Before the Masses Tour: Beacon



Beacon
Ripped Ties, Book 1
Angela Brown

Evernight Teen, Released Nov 21st., 73K
Romance, Dystopian, Urban Fantasy, Interracial

Tsunamis reduced the USA into a shell of itself, called The Fold. Surviving humans and vampires joined forces to form The Colony, where registered citizens do as their told.

They donate blood quarterly and dream of being chosen as Attendees for the Jubilee celebrations, that is, everyone except Macie Breen. With high school graduation near, she’s anxious to ditch the rules in hopes of starting a new life with Thane, an unregistered and also her best friend.

Her hopes fizzle when Macie is selected as an Attendee, forever registered. Any future with Thane…impossible. Being chosen comes with another unexpected price.

Truths about The Colony blaze into ashes and lies when she discovers the vampires haven't kept their part of the bargain. Worst still, Macie’s life unravels as her stint in the city of Bliss forces her to face daunting truths about who, and what, she really is.


Buy Links:     Evernight Teen    Amazon    All Romance eBooks

Excerpt:

"We’re not kids anymore, Macie. You’ve learned what little The Colony had to say about the vampeer, wights and devil spawn. There’s something else they’ve hidden from you. From all registered citizens. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time why we met. Just how special you really are. But you won’t want to be my friend anymore once you know the truth. Losing you would be…”

Words trickled from my mouth unfiltered. “I, what do you mean I wouldn’t…”

He turned to me, chewing his bottom lip. The last time he did that was the day I broke first blood.

We were playing at knight warriors, a favorite of ours since we were kids. I thrust my wooden sword forward. It clattered to the ground as I doubled over from a sharp spasm in my stomach. I tried to shoo Thane away, deal with the pain on my own. But, noticing the grimace on my face – I really tried hard to be quiet, but I cried out anyway – he wouldn’t have it. When he glanced at my yellow cargo pants, he chewed his bottom lip, eyes wide. My gaze trailed down to the bloody mess I’d become. My face couldn’t have flashed hotter if I set it on fire.

Now he was doing it again, chewing his bottom lip. What could he possibly have to say? He opened his mouth to speak when the tent flap ripped away. We jerked our heads around to face a tall being covered in shaggy, brown fur from scalp to hoof. A shadowy glow encircled it like a dirty aura. Two arms protruded from both sides. Jagged teeth crowded its mouth. Drool leaked down its chin. Reptilian eyes shone bright white with a red slit down the middle. One set of eyelids blinked side to side as the second set followed up and down. It snarled, spat and drooled some more. My bladder felt one moment away from losing it.

“Frag me,” I whispered as my world collapsed into a nightmare.

Guest Post:
Blame it on Anne

Thanks so much for having me here today. Here’s an interesting question I pondered for today’s blog tour stop:

"What is the first Paranormal novel you read that made a real impact on you?" (Great question, by the way)

I sat and wondered, thinking of the various novels I’ve devoured. So many books to consider. It couldn’t be one I simply enjoyed, but that first one to have an impact. Then, it wasn’t the book that made me stop and settle into that familiar feeling of antsy excitement. It was the movie and the book I read AFTER the fact.

I’m sure some of you are familiar with Interview with the Vampire. If not - wait, how could you NOT know this movie? Let me move on before I digress into a bunch of girlish gibberish about how this is a must see movie for any person with the slightest inking of liking vampires or Brad Pitt. This movie captivated me. There was something inherently magnetic about Louis and Lestat. So I had to read the book.

I was drawn to the pain and suffering wrought by the longevity of immortality and the bloodlust required for survival. Love was but a butterfly to flit in and out of their lives, a beautiful thing to behold, capture, and enjoy, but fleeting. Anne Rice made something normally portrayed as cold-blooded evil into something we as humans could understand. Vampires didn’t have to be the bad guys. They could be heroes, albeit faulty ones that had to get their food source from somewhere since they couldn’t just pull up to the local McDonald’s and order a large bag of O negative blood.

I blame Louis, Lestat, Claudia, and Armand for my fascination with vampires and other preternatural beings. I blame the Mayfair witches, too, because that trilogy rocked. I blame Anne.

So for you, what was the first paranormal novel to impact you? What author do you blame? Please feel free to share because I’d love to discover more authors to blame 


Author Bio:

Born and raised in Little Rock, AR, Angela Brown now calls Central Texas home. She's a lover of Wild Cherry Pepsi and chocolate/chocolate covered delicious-ness. Steampunk, fantasy and paranormal to
contemporary - mostly young adult - fill her growing library of books.

Mother to a rambunctious darling girl aptly nicknamed Chipmunk, life stays busy. Her favorite quote keeps her moving:  "You may never know what results come of your action, but if you do nothing there will be no result." ~ Mahatma Gandhi. She's released Neverlove and They All Fall Down of the Shadow Jumpers series, Frailties of the Bond and Atone of the NEO Chronicles, and BEACON, a YA urban fantasy dystopian published by Evernight Teen publishing.


*****


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Monday, March 23, 2015

Virtual Blog Tour: The Ragnarok Chronicles


ragnarok-640
Title: The Ragnarok Chronicles
Author: Nicki J. Markus
Length: novel (678 pages)
Genre: Fantasy, Adventure, Mythology, Romance, Young Adult
Suitable: 16 years and above

Synopsis

For Ragnarok will be completed….
Nothing marks Cassandra out—except her visions. She’s only ever seen small, insignificant things. That is until the strange frost arrives.

Adobe Photoshop PDF
With her normal life turned upside down, Cassandra is plunged into an extraordinary and terrifying world of Norse gods and rampaging giants, ancient feuds and broken prophecies.
A handsome stranger offers aid. But can Cassandra really trust him? More importantly, can she trust her own judgment when his slightest touch sets her heart and her body aflame?

Book trailer


Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SW0TV46/
Amazon UK: www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00SW0TV46/
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00SW0TV46/
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ragnar-k-chronicles-nicki-j-markus/1121134764?ean=9780994234612
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-ragnarok-chronicles
Paperback
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Ragnarök-Chronicles-Nicki-J-Markus/dp/0994234600
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ragnarök-Chronicles-Nicki-J-Markus/dp/0994234600
The Book Depository: http://www.bookdepository.com/Ragnarök-Chronicles-Nicki-Markus/9780994234605

Excerpt 

   When the frost came, clinging murderously to every leaf and blade of grass, Cassandra was not surprised. Others viewed the carnage and bewailed the death of their summer gardens, muttering about climate change, but she knew better. For days now she had felt it coming. Her joints ached and she saw ice in her mind’s eye; glittering stalactites dripped into her field of vision, growing more persistent as the days passed. Ignoring the scoffing glances of her neighbours, she had carried the few potted plants she had not already killed off indoors where they would be protected from the coming chill.

   Cassandra gazed out of the window at the frost-bitten world beyond her ground-floor flat. The summer sun had reached its peak, its rays warm even through the glass, yet strangely it was not enough. The frost gripped its victims still, refusing to budge, refusing to surrender. It stayed within her mind too, bringing a vague, pulsing chill to her bones. She crossed her arms and retreated to her reading chair, flopping down onto the cushions and hugging one tightly to her chest. It will pass, she told herself over and over.

   For as long as she could remember she had had an uncanny ability to sense things before they happened. As a child, she would announce suddenly at dinner that it would rain in the morning, even though the weather report had just predicted a fine day. Or she would inform her frantic mother that the missing mobile phone was in the glove box and not in the house at all. It had freaked out her parents when she was small, but her grandmother had always winked at her and called it a gift, before launching into another of her famous tales of fairies and magic, gods and giants. Usually the message Cassandra received was fleeting—a flash of an image or a vague sensation in her mind, gone as quickly as it had arrived—but not this time. No, this time it lingered, icy tentacles wrapping around her, passing back and forth before her eyes. Tomorrow I’ll be fine again. Tomorrow when the frost clears.

Of Gods and Giants: Writing the ‘Other’ in Fantasy Fiction
Nicki J Markus

   One of the great challenges in fantasy writing is to find a way to represent non-human figures so they maintain their alien qualities while also being recognisable and believable to readers. There are a number of ways writers can approach this. It can be accomplished through the character’s appearance, mannerisms, mode of speech, beliefs and values, and in the way they dress. I have tried to employ all these techniques in my new book The Ragnarök Chronicles in the hope of creating characters that are realistic to readers but retain their quality of being ‘other’. 

   All my mythological characters speak differently from the modern day humans. They never contract words and their language and sentence structure is more archaic to give an impression of their age and the fact English is not their native language. The different races of the nine realms have different styles of dress, reflecting their respective cultures and ways of life. Their appearances too are diverse. The two groups of giants have visages that relate to the realms in which they dwell, while all the gods are handsome beyond compare.
   
   All these elements set them apart from the humans, and yet their motivations remain deeply familiar—love, hate, jealousy, lust, a desire for power, and the will to survive—because fantasy fiction is not just about strange new worlds and beings, it is, at its heart, a reflection of our own world, and the characters need to show that in order to engage the reader.

   So let me invite you all to my world of gods, giants, and ancient prophecies. I hope you will enjoy the journey.

Giveaway

Prizes: 3 x eCopy of The Ragnarok Chronicles and Swag signed by Nicki J. Markus



Author Pic 2015About the author

Nicki J Markus was born in England in 1982, but now lives in Adelaide, South Australia with her husband. She has loved both reading and writing from a young age and is also a keen linguist.
Nicki launched her writing career in 2011. She published works through Wicked Nights Publishing and Silver Publishing before both companies closed their doors. She is now self-publishing some of her works.
Nicki also writes M/M fiction under the alternate pen name of Asta Idonea and has had several short stories published by Wayward Ink Publishing.
Nicki works as a freelance editor and proofreader and in her spare time enjoys: music, theatre, cinema, photography, sketching, history, folklore and mythology, pen-palling, and travel.
Social media links
Blog: http://www.nickijmarkus.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/NickiJMarkus
Twitter: https://twitter.com/NickiJMarkus
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nicolamarkus
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4567057.Nicki_J_Markus

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Guest Post and Spotlight: Gray Island

Gray Island
J.C. Aster
Evernight Teen/69k
Teen Romance/Paranormal/Shifters

Sage Murdock has always felt different from the other students at his high school in Boston, and being bullied and ostracized has become a way of life he accepts…but at the same time, he worries that the whispers are true and that he is, in fact, mentally abnormal.

After a bullying incident at school provokes Sage to violence, his mother and stepfather tell him he is being sent to live with his biological father on Gray Island, a small weather-beaten island off the coast of Maine. There, Sage encounters many strange people who all seem to be hiding something.

A single bright spot is Cadi, a free-spirited girl about his own age. Unfortunately, Cadi is a member of a strange cult-like group that lives on the opposite side of Gray Island. Before long, Sage learns that his relationship with Cadi must end or the consequences will be catastrophic.


Buy Links:   Evernight Teen    Amazon    All Romance eBooks

Excerpt:

“I was out walking,” she answered, to his relief. She shook her head, sending a cascade of glistening raindrops from her honey-brown hair. The droplets seemed to descend in slow motion, twinkling like stardust.

“In the rain?”

“It isn’t raining anymore. Besides, I don’t mind. Rain is part of nature. We’re part of nature. It all fits, right?”

“I guess. I prefer to stay dry.”

“Oh? I can’t help but notice you’re out here, same as I am.”

“I…uh, yeah. I couldn’t sleep. And then I spotted you from my window.” He paused, fumbling for his next few words. “I…um…I saw Ivar tonight.”

Her rosy lips thinned. “I heard. I’m sorry he tormented you.”

Sage shrugged self-consciously. “It’s a public place. I guess he had a right to be there, same as I did.”

“Stuff like that happens because we have only one restaurant on the island. I know he goes there with his friends once in a while.”

“Do you ever go with him?” Sage asked hopefully.

“No. My parents won’t let me go anywhere that serves alcohol… besides, that place is a little noisy for my tastes.”

“I know what you mean.”

They fell into step together as they trudged through the sodden forest. The water dripping on her skin didn’t seem to bother her at all, nor did the chilly air. She was used to it, Sage supposed. Maybe he’d get used to it one day, too. But, no—he had no idea of staying that long.

Cadi did make it tempting to stick around a while, though.

“What’s the deal with you and Ivar, anyway?” he finally asked, unable to keep a note of strain from his voice. “You said once he wasn’t your boyfriend. But is he…I mean, are you and he…?”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. “I don’t like labels, personally. Do you?”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to tell what’s inside the can without one.”

She laughed, a genuine and easy sort of laugh that banished the cold from his body. He smiled too. They walked on, side by side, not touching but enjoying the moment. At least, he was. And she seemed happy enough to stay beside him.

“I’m glad you have a sense of humor,” Cadi said. “Not many people around here do.”

“The weather makes them that way, maybe. No sun. I’ve been feeling kind of strange myself.”

“Not because of the weather. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” She stopped and looked at him intently.

“No. What do you mean? Figured what out?”

“Sage…you don’t know your father very well, do you? Or much about his life here?”

“Nah. Why would I? My parents split up and he took off when I was less than a year old. I haven’t had much contact with him since. Then, all of a sudden, my mother got this bright idea to send me out here to live with him.”

“She didn’t tell you why?” Cadi seemed genuinely concerned.

“Not in so many words. I figure she couldn’t handle me anymore. You know, hormones, bad temper, the usual teenage stuff.”

“No, Sage. It wasn’t the normal teenaged stuff. Trust me.”

“What do you mean?” He scowled and started walking again. “Are you trying to tell me my father is a serial killer or something?”

“No! No, Jeremy’s all right. I admit, my parents aren’t crazy about him, but they live on the other side of the island, so that’s to be expected.”

Sage scowled. “Don’t you come over to this side for school?”

“No. We have private lessons in the compound. Ivar’s father, Laurent—he’s sort of like our governor—appoints teachers for us. Sometimes he lectures to us, too. We can study at our own pace. I kind of like it that way. I don’t think I’d do well in your kind of school.”

“You’re kidding. That sounds like something from another century!”

“No, it’s modern enough. We have electricity and everything.” Her sardonic laugh ended in a sigh. “There’s a lot about this place you don’t understand, Sage.”

“I’ll be the first to admit that.”

She took his hand. He squeezed back. “You’ll find out a lot, soon enough. Too soon, and I hate thinking about it. I want to remember you like this: just a normal guy from Boston, taking an innocent walk with me through the forest. I wish it could stay like that.”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean? I’m lost.” He looked around at the dark trees that hemmed them in on all sides. Nothing looked familiar. “In more ways than one.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t be for long. Don’t try to answer these questions too soon. Let some things be a mystery. Once you look for answers, everything gets complicated.”

“I guess so. But I’d still like to know the truth.”

“And I like mystery. Maybe we’re not so compatible after all.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Then let some things stay unsaid. Don’t ask me things. Let’s just spend time together and enjoy it.”

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“I do, and I want things between us to be special. Like magic.” She grasped his hand, pulling him to a stop. Then she leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Startled, Sage responded awkwardly at first. Despite what he’d seen in movies and TV shows, he wasn’t quite sure which way to tilt his lips, and at one point his front teeth knocked against hers. When she didn’t move away, though, he decided to let instinct guide him. That worked out better, as their mouths began to slide together in a balanced and highly enjoyable rhythm.

Magic was an understatement.


Guest Post by J. C. Aster
YA THEN AND NOW

Every time I look through the shelves in the YA section of the local big-box bookstore, one thought goes through my mind—“if only they’d had so many cool books like this when I was a kid!” Don’t get me wrong, I read all the time, but almost all of my choices were grown-up books (some of which were so “advanced” that they horrified my teachers and the local librarians).I just couldn’t get into the “age appropriate” stuff they were farming out to us in school, and the mid-seventies was the age of the blockbuster, with books like Roots, Shogun, Jaws, and The Thorn Birds dominating the bestseller lists. I read all of those and more between the ages of ten and fifteen. My parents didn’t object in the least. They were avid readers, too, or maybe it was just that those huge books kept me quiet for long stretches of time and gave them some peace.

It wasn’t until I was older that I began to make sense of my aversion to the typical classroom fare. It occurred to me that most of the books I was forced to read and really disliked were all books that had a decidedly male perspective—The Chocolate War, The Old Man and the Sea, 1984, and even Great Expectations.  Don’t even get me started on the ones where some boy has to prove his manhood by killing a pet or some innocent animal, like Old Yeller, The Yearling, The Red Pony, and A Day No Pigs Would Die. It got to the point where I wouldn’t go near a book with an animal on the cover for fear of what I would find (a policy I maintain to this day, and I’m not the only one—my friend Rachael still has nightmares about Watership Down and avoids covers showing rabbits).

On the other hand, when I did read children’s lit back then, I would find myself captivated by the Little House series, biographies of Helen Keller, and Island of the Blue Dolphins. What made the difference, I realize now, was that all of these stories were about the issues that matter to girls—among them relationships with family, forming a strong sense of identity, and last but not least, compassion for animals and respect for life.

Today, when I look at the new books available for teens and younger readers, I am delighted to see gender and racial diversity and a more humane perspective represented in many titles. I hear that the proliferation of titles about female protagonists came about  because young men and boys don’t buy books at anywhere near the rate girls do. But when you look at what were once considered typical “male” stories, is it any wonder? I can’t help but think the “old standbys,” which are still taught in many schools, are responsible for turning a lot of young males off from reading. Maybe they would rather cuddle an animal than pick up a shotgun, too. I, for one, think that’s a good thing. 

Maybe it’s time for some new paradigms in books meant for boys. I’d be interested to hear what others think!

About the Author:
J.C. Aster is a teacher and freelance writer who is a huge fan of young adult fiction, especially stories with a paranormal twist (they sure didn’t have cool books like that when she was a kid or she might have had a more exciting childhood!).  GRAY ISLAND started as a National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) project and quickly took on a life of its own.  She is currently at work on new projects and hopes to visit the magical shores of Gray Island again soon.


Giveaway:    $10 Evernight Teen Gift Card


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