#Authors, Need Help With Book Promotion? We’re Running a Huge Sale! #books #marketing


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Need some help with marketing and promotion? Now’s a great time to sign up for our services. Buy one service, get one (equal or less value) for free! That’s right, you save 50% off every single service. Here’s a list of our services and pricing:

Tier 2: Book/blog promotion and marketing for a small fee. You have the option of the following and the fee is $11.50 per service:

Author Interview

Author Spotlight

Book Spotlight (includes extended excerpt)

Book Series Spotlight

Cover Reveal

Trailer Reveal

Guest Post (your choice of topic)

Top Ten (your choice of topic)

Character Interview

Twitter Book Blast with Graphics (one day – 7 tweets- I’ll tweet about your book sale to my Twitter followers)

**NEW SERVICE: Twitter Sale Service (one day – 8 custom tweets – I’ll tweet about your book sale with cover/memes/graphics you provide)

Book Review by either Mr. N or Mrs. N (depending on when you need it by, a book review ranges in price)

  • 12 Weeks $11.50
  • 2 Weeks $85.50
  • Rush 3 Business Days $143.00

 

Amazon US Ranking as of March 1, 2017 is 20,648

Amazon CA Ranking as of March 1, 2017 is 4,492

Amazon UK Ranking as of March 1, 2017 is 60,867

 

Tier 3: Advertisement Button on the left sidebar. Authors and professionals in the book industry can advertise on this website for a super-low fee of $6 a week/$20 a month (plus Paypal and processing fees).

We’re also offering a Top Spot Advertisement Button for our clients. You will be at the very top of the sidebar and this is one spot only. First come, first serve.

  • 1 Month $50
  • 3 Months $135
  • 6 Months $240
  • 12 Months $450 (plus Paypal and processing fees)

Tier 4: Social Media Graphics and Memes. I am now offering a memes package plus Social Media Headers.

  • 5 memes using royalty-free images and quotes from your books $20 (plus Paypal and processing fees)
  • Twitter Header $5 (plus Paypal and processing fees)
  • Facebook Cover $5 (plus Paypal and processing fees)
  • Google+ Cover $5 (plus Paypal and processing fees)
  • Website Banner $5 (plus Paypal and processing fees)

Tier 5: Social Media/Book Marketing Advice and Virtual Assistance. Need a marketing plan, someone to come to for advice or help you with various ghost writing projects? I can provide a solid marketing plan as well as help you with ghost writing guest posts, interviews, tweets and/or blog posts. The fee is $30/hour.

**NEW SERVICE: Tweet Package (tweet creation service – I’ll provide daily/weekly/monthly tweets for you to use; pricing on a case-by-case basis – email for a quote)

Note: You can sign up for multiple services and schedule them for an upcoming release later in the year.

If you’re interested please fill out the form below and we’ll be in touch:

#Authors: Get Real on #SocialMedia and Readers Will Respond #ASMSG #IARTG


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“Marketing is first and foremost about connecting.” – Wendy Paine Miller

Today’s publishing market requires authors to wear several hats, one of them being marketer. For many authors, they haven’t a clue what to do or how to get the word out about their book(s). I see it all the time on Twitter, Google+, Facebook, LinkedIn; authors posting about their books in an unending stream of impersonal tweets and posts.

“BUY MY BOOK! BUY MY BOOK! BUY MY BOOK, PLEASE!”

I shake my head because these authors miss the whole point. Social media is at its core, social. It’s a powerful marketing tool, if you know how to use it. Let me give you an example:

Back in 2012, I wrote my debut novel, Princess of the Light. When the time came to edit and publish it, I started chatting with some of my Twitter followers about it. Nothing major, just musings and observations. People started asking me more about it and I shared the story behind POTL. They were intrigued and as a result bought it when it was released. I’m proud to say they were my first readers and have been loyal ever since.

How did I do it? I made a connection and readers responded.

When I’m on social media, I’m a real person, not some robot. I talk about more than my books. I talk about baking, sports, what I’m reading, writing, editing, cooking, interesting articles I’ve read, news, politics, supporting food banks, the weather… the topics are endless. I’m being social and in this day and age of automation and technology, the simple act of saying good morning makes a huge impact.

So, what about book marketing?

I’m a writer and as a writer, I take great pride in crafting attention-grabbing tweets. Words are my thing and especially on Twitter, it’s a challenge to grab the reader by the collar so that they’ll want to click-through to learn more. I love it, though, because it hones my writing skills. I encourage all authors to try it.

Here are ten quick tips to help you get real on social media:

  • Use this formula when posting on social media – 20% book marketing, 10% small talk (weather, exercising, cooking, etc.), 30% retweets, 20% personal (I use this to post baking/cooking pics), 20% other interests (sports, hobbies, news, politics, etc.)

 

  • Post consistently on social media. I know time is a rare commodity for all of us. So whether you’re on Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram or Facebook, post consistently. The so-called experts tell us that we should only be posting x number of times per day/week. Listen, do what works for you. For me, I post on my blog 5 days a week, tweet every 20 minutes or so (thanks to Triberr) and post to Pinterest at least once a week. It’s all I have time for but it works for me. Consistency is the key.

 

  • Use graphics/images in all of your posts. Humans are, as a rule, visual people. We eat with our eyes first, or so says my husband (Retired Chef MR N). People identify with an image and sometimes that image has a bigger impact than the wording below.

 

  • If a follower/reader asks you a question on social media, respond. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tweeted an author and get no response. Listen, you’re not as busy as Harlan Coben or Jamie Oliver. Yet, both of these authors have responded to my tweets. It takes a few moments and yet has a huge impact on the reader.

 

  • Retweet/Like/Reblog on social media. Not only is this a great way to meet new people, it’s a sneaky marketing move to gain new followers. The more followers you have, the bigger your social media reach, the more likely you’ll find new readers to buy your books. I employ the Golden Rule on social media (do unto others as you would like done to you) and it really pays off.

 

  • Be real on social media. I know this sounds obvious but I’ve encountered so many authors who tell me they can’t be themselves online. “I can’t be myself, I’m an author.” Why not? I’m sure if Ernest Hemingway were alive today, he’d be spouting honest tweets in the middle of the night for all of us to see. My point is, you have to be yourself or else no one is going to read your books. Readers are attracted to a story, sure, but they first want to know about the author. Be real and let your followers see a little piece of yourself. I do this with my pics of baking/cooking and chatting with others on Twitter.

 

  • Don’t spam complete strangers on social media. What would Miss Manners say? We all hate spam and spammers are all over social media. I see a lot of authors send tweets to complete strangers about their book, myself included. It grates on my nerves because I’m receiving book sale info about a perfect stranger. Instead, start following people you’re interested in connecting with and once a conversation has been initiated, then maybe mention your book.

 

  • Use hashtags. I can’t emphasize this enough. We’re all busy and lead jam-packed lives. We sometimes only have a few minutes while waiting to pick up the kids from school or on a lunch break so we scroll through our feeds. We subscribe to hashtags and see what’s new. Hashtags are a great way to connect with people of similar interests. Some of my favorite book-related hashtags include: #books, #amreading, #FridayReads, #TuesdayBookBlog, #bookboost, #goodreads, etc.

 

  • Don’t ever, ever respond to a blogger/reviewer negatively on social media. It’s bound to happen. A reader/reviewer/blogger will not like your book. In fact, they may even bash you personally for no reason whatsoever. You’ll feel tempted to correct them or defend yourself. STEP AWAY FROM THE KEYBOARD/DEVICE! I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve seen authors taking to social media in response to a bad review/comment. I call this authors behaving badly. Listen, there’s going to be plenty of readers who won’t love/get/understand/relate to/respect your book(s). It’s part of the being a writer/storyteller. How? Vent to your inner circle via email/text/phone but never by social media. You’ll never convince them and it will make you look unprofessional. Instead, go read a few raving reviews.

 

  • Use the Tupperware marketing approach.

In 1942, Earl Tupper developed his first bell shaped container; the brand products were introduced to the public in 1948. Tupperware pioneered the direct marketing strategy made famous by the Tupperware party. The Tupperware Party allowed for women of the 1950s to work and enjoy the benefits of earning an income without completely taking away the independence granted to women during the Second World War when women first began entering the labor market, all the while keeping their focus in the domestic domain. (Wikipedia)

Word of Mouth marketing is one of the best marketing strategies, especially for authors, because it’s organic and driven by honest customers. Imagine you’re at a dinner party and the topic turns to books. What’s everyone been reading? You then begin to share with everyone at the party about that book you just finished. People pay attention because there’s nothing false about it, just your opinion. No hidden agenda, no secret business dealings, just one reader’s opinion. Authors need to tap into this marketing ploy and here’s how: Ask your readers to leave a review online and if they liked it, tell at least two friends about it. Now, there’s no way to track it but that’s the beauty of it. You’re asking the reader to help you in a very important way. Suddenly, they have an active role, not a passive one. Think organic, think natural, think honest. At the end of the day, that’s how books sell: word of mouth.

 

It’s time to take these easy marketing techniques and put them into practice. Get real on social media and watch your readership grow. It might take some time and planning but then anything worth doing takes time. It takes years of pressure and patience to create a diamond. Trust me, it’s worth it.

 

Do you have any questions and/comments about social media marketing? I’d love to hear from you. If you know someone who might enjoy this article, please share using the buttons below.

Let’s bring back the social in social media!

couple N N Light

N.N. Light is the best-selling husband-wife writing team, commonly known as Mr. N and Mrs. N.

Mrs. N. has been creating stories ever since she was little. Her grandfather remembers when she was two years old, she would stand at the top of the stairs and tell him a story filled with emotion (and in a language foreign to him) with her hands on her hips. Let’s just say she was a born storyteller.

They’re blissfully happy and loves all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art, sports, trains, history, cooking and baking. Their mantra is to spread the Light.

Most of the time you can find them on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest. They’re a proud member of ASMSG and Independent Author Network.

In addition to being authors, they’re also book promoters/reviewers, social media marketers/influencers and the owners of N. N. Light Author Promotions. They both love books, have ever since they were young. Matching up books and readers is something that gives them great pleasure.

Meet Author Lovey @indielovepromo and Her #NewRelease! #books #FridayReads


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I love discovering new books and authors. It’s my great pleasure to introduce you to Lovey. She’s the author of the brand new release, I’m Too Grown for This. She agreed to sit down for an interview. Please welcome her to the POTL Blog and be sure to check out her book, too. Take it away, Lovey:

What is your writing process?
-I just write. I have tried outlines, setting time aside and other tricks but for me; the best thing to do is write when my characters are speaking to me.

Do you have any odd writing habits?
-The only odd habit I have is writing on my phone then transferring it. I think I’m more comfortable with the phone so I use it first.

Just as your books inspire authors, what authors have inspired you?
-My biggest fiction writing inspiration is Sista Souljah because she was able to bring life to a book on The Coldest Winter Ever. My biggest nonfiction inspiration is Iyanla Vanzant. Her work touches on everything life may throw at you.

How important are names to you in your books?
-My character names are the most important thing in the story for me. They tell readers who they are. Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning? I use names I like that are not trendy but cute.

What writing advice do you have for other aspiring authors?
-Find your lane and stay in it. Do not compare your outcome to anyone’s.

Do you write naked?
-I do but I love to be naked so it’s not really abnormal.

What is your biggest failure?
-Not self-publishing from the start

What is the biggest fib you’ve ever told?
-That I wasnt writing anymore.

Have you ever been in trouble with the law?
-Yes, I went to jail for library books.

Have you ever gotten into a fight?
-Yes, when I was younger but I learned that there were people out there that could handle me.

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Title: I’m Too Grown For This
Author: Lovey
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Publisher: PenPoint Publications

Book Blurb:
Loves, Lies, Pain and Deceit are all part of being an adult or grown. Reno and Montana seem to have the perfect relationship besides him being in another relationship with Shira. After he decides to marry one of them everyones life changes. But, will he end up with either of them?

Talia and Montana are like sisters but Montana’s blood sister Dakota has a few secrets that may tear up friendships, marriages and more. Plus, one split second decision including Sampson; Talia’s husband could truly ruin their lives.

Will love conquer all? Can marriages and friendships be saved? “I’m Too Grown For This” is the story of adult decisions and consequences.

Excerpt:
1997

“Monty, why are you so difficult? The dress is fine. Showing everybody exactly what you are offering.”

“Mama, I swear you be sounding like a pimp. It’s cute but it isn’t fitting me right; up top.”

“It is; honey you get them thangs from me so be proud. We are just top heavy. Its in the blood.”

We both laughed and at that moment my sister Dakota walked in the room.

“Monty, I wish I could go with you.  You look nice.”

We hugged.  My mama and sister were my best friends.  It’s always been the three of us.  My daddy isn’t around much but he does send that check every month and when my mama or us calls; he comes.  I never knew what it was like to have real love from any man but tonight I planned to find out.  It’s Prom Night and I promised Carl that we were going to spend it together.  I lied and told my mother that I was staying with my best friend Talia because I didn’t know how she would react.  Talia lied and said she was staying with me because our parents never check in on us.

“Thanks, Kota and your time is coming. At least you got Freshman Dance this year; I couldn’t go to mine because I was babysitting you.”

I punched her in the arm.

“Damg, Monty…you still blaming me for that.”

“Yep.”

“Well, neither of you should have been upset because I had to work.  That’s when your daddy was gone away so I had to hold it down but thank God that didn’t last too long. Kota; run to the corner store and get me another disposable camera before Carl gets here. I done used all the film in this one.”

“Ok, Monty; you good?”

I nodded and watched Dakota walk out of the room.  I sat on the bed because all of this getting ready had made me tired and I needed to clear my head before Carl got here. My mama sat down beside me.

“Montana; listen.  Tonight is a big night for you. I didn’t get a prom because I was pregnant with Dakota at 16 and you were already three.  I don’t regret ya’ll but I do know that things could have been different. Your daddy was and is the love of my life but he clearly doesn’t ever plan to settle down; he even says it.  Still, I know that he is my soulmate so with all his kids and all his mess I deal with him.  Now, I know that ya’ll have seen me with other men but none of them mean a thing.  I also know that Carl is the love of your life and I’m sure you plan on showing him tonight.”

My eyes bucked but I couldn’t open my mouth to lie.

“Just relax. I understand.  Please remember a few things before you decide that you are ready to be a woman.  Carl is a man that has one main objective with women; he needs to feel good. So far, you are doing something right because he seems pretty into you but don’t think giving it up is going to make him love you forever. I’m sure he has had others and he might like them better.  Now, always use protection and I mean it. He should have condoms and I have been hoping that you were smart enough to ask me for a pill but since you didn’t; I have already put a diaphragm in your purse.  Be smart about babies and diseases.  I ain’t raising no more.”

I started to speak but she held her hand up.

“Men are all the same.  They may love you but they are going to love you the way they know how.  It doesn’t matter if you are the best thing that ever happened to them or if they really want to settle down; money along with power and respect make them stray.  They want a woman that is going to help them get to where they need to be financially. They want the power of knowing that they are the man and they want the respect of everyone around them; so they make choices.  Learn now to not get in your feelings about any of it.  If he is the man for you; you will know.  Yeah, you may decide that if he is cutting up that you are going to too but keep your heart open for him.  If he has a wife or girlfriend; do not let her move you…as long as he is coming back; be happy!  I may sound crazy but I know what I am talking about.  I promise that each and everytime I make love to your daddy; it is just like the first time. But, I know that he needs more and I don’t even think about it.”

“But, mama…does he really love you if he is with other women?”

“He does.  The way he knows how and I am not stupid and could have any man I want but he is the one for me; so I am waiting for him. I may never get him but he knows that I am here.”

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N2WNHGG

 

Author Biography:

Lovey aka Indie Love aka Lovey Shareese is an author that is changing the game. Her ability to tell life stories through her pen has set her aside. She gives you truth in fiction and doesn’t hide the pain behind situations. She has over 10 books published in the genres of Urban, Christian and Womens Fiction. She has also published a self help book. She is planning to release several books in 2017 and encourages everyone to make their wave and ride it.

Social Media Links:
FB: Www.facebook.com/indielove

Twitter: @indielovepromo

IG: @indielove733

The Golden Rule for Empowering Professional Relationships by @ignatius1939 #books


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Title: The Golden Rule for Empowering Professional Relationships

Author: Ignatius Fernandez

Genre: Business/ Corporate Governance

Publisher: Wolf Creek Press, Oregon

Book Blurb:

THE GOLDEN RULE has JESUS CHRIST pointing the way to heightened professional relationships. JESUS is portrayed, not as the spiritual or religious leader the world has known, but as an unmatched professional the world has yet to know. He is an outstanding leader who walks tall, a powerful communicator who touches minds and hearts, and a peerless teacher who influences by example. The Golden Rule is the engaging story – nonfiction that reads like fiction – of a group of earnest professionals who embark on a journey of discovery. Their mission is to find a role model who will inspire them to change the way they act, react and interact. Their search culminates in an encounter with a role model beyond compare – JESUS CHRIST. The life and times of Jesus Christ have been analyzed from many perspectives, but never before from the corporate angle with focus on professional relationships, as in The Golden Rule for Empowering Professional Relationships. Jesus’ example stands out not just for our personal lives, but also for our professional conduct. In short, Jesus emerges as the definitive leader in every respect. As we go on the monumental journey with the characters in the plot, we will find that the Golden Rule goes beyond being a maxim and becomes the very essence of evaluating our personal and professional lives. We uncover secrets, unlearn past programming and make a paradigm shift in the way we conduct ourselves. If we are looking for a book that has the power to transform us, here it is —THE GOLDEN RULE.

Praise for the book:

“How can the ways of JESUS mesh successfully with corporate life? Why would we want it to? Ignatius Fernandez describes the ways of JESUS so well. He describes the humbleness, inclusiveness and forgiving nature of JESUS. He describes the how and why we could include it in business relationships. This book is for Christians of all experiences, all denominations. Also, it is for business leaders of all levels. It is well-written and relevant. It is simple, to the point and poignant.” Stephanie Rollins.

” Ignatius Fernandez has produced a scholarly and absorbing analysis of how Jesus Christ’s behavior sets an example, not just for our personal lives, but also for our professional conduct, and gives a compelling and rigorous account of how Jesus was in fact the definitive leader in every respect.” Paul Sellers, Director, British Council, UK.

Excerpt:

“Speaking of buoyancy, I am thrilled at the idea that our lead could lend some cheer to those who wish to learn. I had in mind other corporations and professionals, in general. I have not known of any team in the Industrial World consciously choosing to follow Jesus’ Golden Rule. I have known of Christian Congregations and Groups who have tried. Some of them succeeded in part; many did not because of the compulsions and temptations in daily life. People outside the religious fold have not made it their driving principle. Imagine what change can come about when doctors, attorneys, judges, consultants, professors, media managers, bankers, retailers, salespersons and service providers join our ranks! How different transactions will be! When the mind-set is changed, the conversion will be easier. People need to be convinced that the Golden Rule is in their interest; that long term gains and enduring relationships can be built only through understanding and following Jesus’ teachings, which are basic. Your customer, internal or external, will be good to you only if you are good to him. You can’t argue against that. Unless you are fair in your dealings you cannot expect your customer to transact with you again. You can’t dispute that. Once professionals like us stop to think, the logic in Jesus’ words cannot be refuted. The problem is in stopping to think when we are in a mad rush to make more and more money. I am hopeful that the change will come, though slowly, when we all try. I shall be using every forum that I have – speaking and writing – to put across my conviction. Forgive me, our conviction. I urge each of you to seize every opportunity you get to spread the word. We owe it to ourselves and to Jesus. In a way, informing and persuading others in our fraternity could be part of our mission. The task is huge, but the rewards are great. While we are busy propagating the new role of the professional, we should redefine what professionalism is. Qualifications, experience, skills, commitment and competence are important. In your discussions yesterday, you agreed that a professional should optimize the use of resources. The question is: How does he do it? So the means he adopts, to optimize the use of his resources, become vital. Therefore, the picture of the professional is incomplete without the finishing stroke of the brush. Unless he can put life into his relationships – by forging lasting and fulfilling relationships – his profile is incomplete and imperfect. When he has done that he is empowered. To us, professionalism will be the achieving of our goals through empowered professional relationships; living the Golden Rule. At Mount Pharmaceuticals we shall try to perfect our profiles. With constant effort we shall try to influence others to do likewise.” (Words of Victor  Banerjee, the CEO of Mount Pharmaceuticals)

Buy Link:
https://www.amazon.com/Golden-Rule-Empowering-Professional-Relationships/dp/1495371751/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1393270817&sr=1-1&keywords=the+golden+rule+ignatius

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Author Biography:

Ignatius Fernandez is a post graduate in chemistry and business management. He was awarded a certificate in higher business English by Cambridge University (grade three) in which they found him to have a high level of competence in writing. He is an author of eight books and sixty articles in magazines and on websites. Professor management studies. Corporate trainer for top management. Senior management professional. Speaker. Counselor. Blogger.

Social Media Links:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ignatius.fernandez.3

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ignatius1939

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ignatius-fernandez-5b874645?trk=hp-identity-name

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/fernandez0709/

Book of the Broken: A Guest Post by Jesse Teller #darkfantasy #books #writing


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On October 5, 2016, my book Chaste was unleashed upon the world, and I have come here to make peace with that, to find a way to ready myself for the onslaught of reviews and criticism it will receive, and in some way prepare myself for this beast being free to roam into the life of anyone who might be interested in it.

Chaste has a mind of its own, a mind dark and deviant, and it is my most terrifying creation to date. It scares me. It always has. It is too honest, too revealing to ever let anyone read it. It reveals all my secrets, and it will affect the reader. To what end, I do not know.

Chaste was written by a broken man. I wrote it in 2004. The four years before, I had delved into my past with a very intelligent, very capable therapist who was like a father to me. I had found a darkness that my mind could barely stand. I had found abuse in every form, abuse enough to bend and twist a man.

One day, I asked my therapist how bad it was. I had reached the point where I was beginning to think I was whining, that I was making things out to be worse than they ever could have been. I asked him how bad it was, and he picked up my file. By this point, his notes were grand enough to stand four inches thick, and he set it in front of me. He said these words:

“If I were to show this file to an FBI profiler, the question they would ask is, ‘How many? How many victims had this serial killer produced?’” He said he had never heard things like I was telling him. He said that it didn’t get any worse.

When you see evil, it gets in your bones. It was in mine. It was deep in me, and it had scarred me. It had stained me, and I never thought I would get that stain out. It had me in its grasp and I felt weakened by it, felt crushed under the weight of it.

I was in love and trying to make a life with a woman who cherished me. She knew it all, all the horror and the insanity, and she wanted me anyway. But I was stunted by the memories I had found, and I had no way of getting past it. Then I started writing Chaste.

I set out to write a fantasy novel. I had an idea. It was a simple thing, a concept that might take me through a whole book, might end after 50 pages. I didn’t know. I had never written a novel before. So I just got to work.

What came out of me was a horror fantasy.

There were broken characters. They were powerful and shiny, bright spots in the world, but they were locked up by shadows, past obsessions, and pain.

One of them mirrored my past in such a way that to write her was torture. She had suffered abuse and horror and had locked it away in her mind, as I had, for decades. She broke my heart and scared me more than a little.

There was a character on a quest for love. He was fighting to get to his love and had dedicated himself to being with her. But he had wars to fight before he could make it to her arms.

There was a deformed man, a man who had grown wrong. He hid himself from the world because he was a freak, and he was haunted by the things he would never be able to do, never be able to be.

They were all haunted and jaded. These, and many more, characters walked into a darkness that was all-consuming and fought to get free of it, to right it, to survive it.

When I wrote Chaste, I was insane. I was twisted and wrong, bent in a way that I could not see myself getting out of. I poured it all into that book—all my fury with God, all my loss and confusion, all my self-loathing and my pain. I put it all down, hammering out the worst I had, so that I might one day heal.

And heal I did. My woman and I built a world of happiness. We fought back all my demons and I found peace. I found love. I found hope.

Chaste is part of that healing. It is where I laid all the darkness. I thought I would never go back, thought I would never bring it out of its rough draft form. I would leave it unclean, a thing unfit, a beast dead and rotting that I would not bury.

Then a friend fell in love with it. I let her read it, and she adored it. She said it was her favorite book she had ever read, that it gave her hope, that it gave her peace. She said it had the power to heal, to bring people from the dark. She said it was beautiful.

And I believed her. I took it out, and I washed it up. I found that the thing I had thought dead and reviled is actually powerful and real. It has a message. It has a place.

Chaste will always be a terror. It woke up screaming. It will always be hard for me to look at, hard for me to live with.

It knows me and it displays me in ways no other work has ever. I thought to hide it forever. I thought to let it rot in a dark corner somewhere and try to forget about it. But I can’t.

Chaste is unflinching. It is brutal and dark. But I think it will help. I think it will make people feel understood, that it will make people feel heard.

It might even bring people peace.

It did for me.

 

originally published on Jesse Teller’s blog at this link:
https://jesseteller.com/2016/09/21/chaste-book-of-the-broken/

 

Title: Chaste: A Tale from Perilisc

 

Author: Jesse Teller

 

Genre: Dark Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

When her devout parents died, Cheryl turned her back on her god. Years of denial and self-loathing have defeated her. Her life consists of taking orders and succumbing to abuse. A group of strangers stops in Chaste for the night, but an unnamed threat is preying on the town. Tragic deaths have become more and more frequent. Cheryl wants to protect these travelers, expose the evil force, and save her fellow citizens, but she must find a way to believe in hope.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Chaste-Tale-Perilisc-Jesse-Teller-ebook/dp/B01J0FVC9S

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31278384-chaste

 

jesse-teller

 

Author Biography:

Jesse Teller fell in love with fantasy when he was five years old and played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. The game gave him the ability to create stories and characters from a young age. He started consuming fantasy in every form and, by nine, was obsessed with the genre. As a young adult, he knew he wanted to make his life about fantasy. From exploring the relationship between man and woman, to studying the qualities of a leader or a tyrant, Jesse Teller uses his stories and settings to study real-world themes and issues.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – https://jesseteller.com/

 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/PathtoPerilisc/

 

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Jesse-Teller/e/B01G0ZB7JG

 
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15269506.Jesse_Teller

 

Fiery #Romance Set in Sultry Spain: Andalusian Nights Series by @FieldingHannah #Books


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Title: Indiscretion

Series Title: Andalusian Nights

Author: Hannah Fielding

Genre: Romance

Publisher: London Wall

 

Book Blurb:

Spring, 1950. Alexandra de Falla, a half-English, half-Spanish young writer abandons her privileged but suffocating life in London and travels to Spain to be reunited with her long-estranged family.

Instead of providing the sense of belonging she yearns for, the de Fallas are riven by seething emotions, and in the grip of the wild customs and traditions of Andalucía, all of which are alien to Alexandra.

Among the strange characters and sultry heat of this country, she meets the man who awakens emotions she hardly knew existed. But their path is strewn with obstacles: dangerous rivals, unpredictable events, and inevitable indiscretions. What does Alexandra’s destiny hold for her in this flamboyant land of drama and all-consuming passions, where blood is ritually poured on to the sands of sun-drenched bullfighting arenas, mysterious gypsies are embroiled in magic and revenge, and beautiful dark-eyed dancers hide their secrets behind elegant lacy fans?

Indiscretion is a story of love and identity, and the clash of ideals in the pursuit of happiness. But can love survive in a world where scandal and danger are never far away?

 

Excerpt:

At first, Alexandra thought she was alone in the chapel, but she soon noticed a man, a few paces away, kneeling on a prayer stool at the foot of Saint Mary of Mercy’s statue. His broad shoulders were hunched beneath a shock of jet-black hair, his face hidden in slender, suntanned hands. It was dark, so why she should think that this was the stranger she had already encountered on the seafront and why her heart was beating so hard against her ribs, she couldn’t say, but she had no doubt at all that it was the same man.

Footsteps and whispering made her turn around. A man began to speak in a nasal singsong voice that echoed strangely from the walls of the little church, disturbing the peace and tranquillity: ‘This is the Church of Santa María.  As in most of our Spanish towns, Our Lady of Mercy is its all-powerful and well-loved patron saint, a friend who protects all, be they lords or paupers.’ It was a tour guide who had appeared in the doorway, ushering his party of tourists into the church.

‘Our land is rich in legends about the Virgin Mary. The most moving is the one about the young Jewish girl who fell in love with a Christian knight. Despairing of ever attracting his attention, the beautiful maiden turned to our Virgin here, on whom everyone called. Humbly, she gave all she possessed: a pin decorated with a tiny glass bead. The miracle happened: the knight passed by at that very moment, saw her, and his heart was forever linked to hers by the pin she had given as an offering.’

The group of sightseers passed Alexandra and disappeared through a low door at the back of the church leading to the crypt. Peace returned.

All the while, the man on the prayer stool had not moved. Alexandra went up to the statue of Our Lady of Mercy to light a candle but a priest had just gone by to clear up the melted wax from the previous batch of devotees’ offerings, and she neither had matches nor a lighter handy. A faint tch of annoyance escaped her lips.

‘Permita me señorita.’

Alexandra had scarcely time to register the quiet words spoken unexpectedly, close to her ear, before the stranger’s brown hand had flicked a gold lighter in front of her, bringing to life a tiny blue flame and at the same time brushing against her arm.

The spark that went through her at the Spaniard’s touch made Alexandra shudder and, emitting a slight gasp, she instinctively drew back in the first instance. But then, as she realized he was only trying to be helpful, she raised her face, smiling as readily and uninhibitedly as she always did.

‘Gracias, muchas gracias.’

There was utter silence in the church. The man did not smile but merely inclined his head, leaving Alexandra, as he had earlier on, with the impression that inbred courtesy had prompted him to lend his assistance, rather than the more usual reasons men found for helping her. Still, her green gaze met his. She was struck by the expression of sadness reflected in his arresting grey irises and the sternness of his hard, regular features.

An almost visible current leapt between them. For a split second, the determined line of his jaw stiffened, his well-defined lips parted and she thought he might speak. Her heart missed a beat…

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Indiscretion-Hannah-Fielding/dp/0992671884/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Indiscretion-romantic-secrets-passion-Andalucian/dp/0992671884

 

Portrait of Hannah Fielding and photos of where she writes.
Portrait of Hannah Fielding and photos of where she writes.

 

Author Biography:

Hannah Fielding is an incurable romantic. The seeds for her writing career were sown in early childhood, spent in Egypt, when she came to an agreement with her governess Zula: for each fairy story Zula told, Hannah would invent and relate one of her own. Years later – following a degree in French literature, several years of travelling in Europe, falling in love with an Englishman, the arrival of two beautiful children and a career in property development – Hannah decided after so many years of yearning to write that the time was now. Today, she lives the dream: writing full time at her homes in Kent, England, and the South of France, where she dreams up romances overlooking breath-taking views of the Mediterranean.

Hannah is a multi-award-winning novelist, and to date she has published five novels: Burning Embers, ‘romance like Hollywood used to make’, set in Kenya; The Echoes of Love, ‘an epic love story that is beautifully told’ set in Italy; and the Andalusian Nights Trilogy – Indiscretion, Masquerade and Legacy – her fieriest novels yet, set in sunny, sultry Spain.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: www.hannahfielding.net
Twitter: https://twitter.com/fieldinghannah
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Hannah-Fielding-Author-Page-340558735991910/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5333898.Hannah_Fielding

 

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Title: Masquerade

Series Title: Andalusian Nights

Author: Hannah Fielding

Genre: Romance

Publisher: London Wall

 

Book Blurb:

Summer, 1976. Luz de Rueda returns to her beloved Spain and takes a job as the biographer of a famous artist. On her first day back in Cádiz, she encounters a bewitching, passionate young gypsy, Leandro, who immediately captures her heart, even though relationships with his kind are taboo. Haunted by this forbidden love, she meets her new employer, the sophisticated Andrés de Calderón. Reserved yet darkly compelling, he is totally different to Leandro but almost the gypsy’s double. Both men stir unfamiliar and exciting feelings in Luz, although mystery and danger surround them in ways she has still to discover.

Luz must decide what she truly desires as glistening Cádiz, with its enigmatic moon and whispering turquoise shores, seeps back into her blood. Why is she so drawn to the wild and magical sea gypsies? What is behind the old fortune-teller’s sinister warnings about ‘Gemini’? Through this maze of secrets and lies, will Luz finally find her happiness… or her ruin?

Masquerade is a story of forbidden love, truth and trust. Are appearances always deceptive?

 

Excerpt:

Luz set eyes on him for the first time from her seat on Zeyna’s back as the fine white Arab mare stepped down the narrow path from the cliff that led to the beach. He was sitting on the edge of the track, leaning nonchalantly against a wild carob tree,watching her while chewing on a sprig of heather. As she drew nearer, she met his steady gaze, spirited and wild. At that moment she had no idea this man would have the power to change her world and create such havoc in her heart, that she would emerge from the experience a different person. Fate had not yet lit up the winding pathway of her life nor the echoes of history along it, but now, in front of this stranger, a disturbing awareness leapt into flame deep inside her and began to flicker intensely. Without thinking, she tugged on Zeyna’s reins to slow the mare down.

For a moment they stared at each other. He was clearly a gitano, one of those people that Luz’s family had always warned her to steer clear of. The frayed, cut-down denims sat low on his hips, revealing deeply tanned, muscular long legs, and his feet were bare as though he had just walked straight from the beach. Unruly chestnut hair, bleached golden in parts by the sun, tumbled to his shoulders; his smooth copper skin glowed more than that of any gypsy she had ever seen. As she allowed her gaze to flick back to his face, Luz caught the flash of amused, provocative arrogance in those bright, burning eyes, mixed with something deeper that she didn’t understand. She swallowed. The overwhelming masculinity of the gitano unsettled her. Luz lifted her chin resolutely, but felt the pull of his magnetism reaching out and gripping her, beguiling and dangerous, so that instinctively she nudged her mount and they broke into a smooth canter. The thumping of her heart sounded loud in her ears. She could sense his eyes on her, as a palpable touch, even as she rode away, trembling, and the feeling remained with her until she knew she was out of sight.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Masquerade-Andalucian-Nights-Trilogy-Fielding/dp/0992994365/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Masquerade-mystery-scorching-Andalucian-Andalucían/dp/0992994365/

 

Legacy cover

 

Title: Legacy

Series Title: Andalusian Nights

Author: Hannah Fielding

Genre: Romance

Publisher: London Wall

 

Book Blurb:

Spring, 2010. When Luna Ward, a science journalist from New York, travels halfway across the world to work undercover at an alternative health clinic in Cadiz, her ordered life is thrown into turmoil.

The doctor she is to investigate, the controversial Rodrigo Rueda de Calderon, is not what she expected. With his wild gypsy looks and devilish sense of humour, he is intent upon drawing her to him. But how can she surrender to a passion that threatens all reason; and how could he ever learn to trust her when he discovers her true identity? Then Luna finds that Ruy is carrying a corrosive secret of his own…

Luna’s native Spanish blood begins to fire in this land of exotic legends, flamboyant gypsies and seductive flamenco guitars, as dazzling Cadiz weaves its own magic on her heart. Can Luna and Ruy’s love survive their families’ legacy of feuding and tragedy, and rise like the phoenix from the ashes of the past?

Legacy is a story of truth, dreams and desire. But in a world of secrets you need to be careful what you wish for…

 

Excerpt:

From her vantage point, Luna had a full view of her gypsy and she could survey him without it being too obvious. His hair was black, thick and shining, swept back from a broad forehead. The hair was rather long, she noted, but perhaps not that long for a gitano. A few tendrils fell across his brow from time to time as he moved his head to the music. His chiselled features were strong, with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose that seemed more aristocratic than gypsy, though this was belied by the crackling  aura of raw danger that seemed to emanate from him.

His mouth was wide and inviting, with smooth, slightly bowed lips that prompted illicit thoughts in Luna, thoughts that raced uninvited through her head and made her shiver despite the warmth of the night. Now she could see that the eyes that had met hers with such intensity were blue, a deep, unfathomable blue, like the skies and the seas of his country. Luna wondered at his age: mid-thirties, maybe a little younger.

As the dancer finished her set and retreated, the gypsy stood up, came forward and murmured an announcement of the next song, making a fresh thrill ripple up Luna’s spine at the husky, masculine sound of his voice. He started the rhythmic clapping of a toca de mano, and the waiter went round refilling glasses while the audience joined in, working up to a crescendo of hand-claps until the whole tavern shook with cries of ‘olé’ and ‘anda’.

The gypsy was much taller than Luna had guessed – over six feet, with a perfectly proportioned, lithe body. Wide shoulders and a broad chest, narrow hips and muscled thighs clad in a pair of jeans that hugged his form so well it left little to the imagination. She was aware of his intense magnetism, which was just as powerful as his steely physique. At this distance, she could detect the dark, curling hair lightly covering his chest just visible at the neck of the faded T-shirt he wore with surprising panache. The muscles of his arms flexed as this time he picked up a guitar and strummed a rapid cascade of chords. He gazed down into her eyes. The dazzling white smile he gave her almost stopped her heart and she lowered her head to hide her confusion.

As the rhythmic clapping subsided, he began to sing. His voice was rich and mellow, warm with vibrant tones and tingling with emotion, beguiling and beckoning like a filtre d’amour that scrambled her thoughts and stirred primitive and alarming desires within her. The music was plaintive and feverish, and as Luna watched his long fingers alternately strum and flick across the strings of his guitar, first lightly and then harder at lightning speed, she found herself wondering how those hands would feel on her skin. His songs were in Caló so she could not understand the words, but she could sense the intensity of feeling that went into the full, vigorous notes and although he sang to the audience, she knew from the sensuous intimacy in his eyes that he was singing for her alone.

Luna sat breathless, her gaze fixed on his expressive face. Luna sat breathless, her gaze fixed on his expressive face, stirred to the depths of her soul.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Legacy-Intrigue-Redemption-Scorching-Andalucian/dp/0993291732/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Legacy-Intrigue-Redemption-Scorching-Andalucian/dp/0993291732/

 

Give Me Chaos (The Wolfegang Series #5) by @JillianAshe #YA #books #coverreveal


Sara Reeder from Asunder by @CurtLock Sits Down With N. N. Light #interview #books


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Sara Reeder – 17 years old, lives on a dairy farm south of Springfield, Missouri, near Wilson Creek

 

My name is Sara Reeder. I’m the only daughter of Lucas Reeder. My three poor brothers are all dead and buried in a little plot near our home. I pray for them each day. The oldest two died when I was six when they went to tussling and fell in a pit of rattlesnakes. We could not save ‘em. My other brother died a few weeks later of a bilious fever of some sort. My ma died when I was about two, so I have no recollection of her. Our slave, my dearest Abram, cared for me and played with me and taught me to read. I have lived with my pa and Abram all these years. He’s a retired army major and mostly deaf because a cannon exploded in the War with Mexico. War is all around us now. It is horrid and fills me with dread. I wish the Yanks would just go home and leave us alone.

 

Which living person do you admire the most?

I so admire my pa with his strong arms and advisement. He’s as strong as an ox. He hates the Yankee president. That Lincoln cheated his friend out of justice usin’ his lawyer wiles and slippery tongue.  My pa loves the Yanks and our Southern boys and wants no more war, and desires to have a comeuppance for Lincoln for bringin’ this war upon the land. His best friend is our slave, Abram.

 Which talent would you most like to have?

Though folks tell me I’ve got a gladsome singin’ voice, I wish for all the world I could play an instrument like our dear Abram does when he plays his banja. He brings such joy to us all, includin’ the soldier boys. He’s gray-headed now and his old hands get some pained, but he’s brave, and I love him so.

What is your most marked characteristic?

You mean my unbecoming attribute? Well, my pa would say it’s my bullheadedness. I see a path that needs followin’ and I do it. I ain’t as a’feared as I oughta be. I guess you’d say I need to let others’ calumny just abide. But I can’t. Pa worries that I have too much fight in me.

Who are your favorite writers?

Well, my pa has a slew of books on botany and the sciences, but I prefer the great novelists, Alexander Dumas and Cervantes.  Of an occasion, I’ll read a tract of some minor author, but my books are my treasures. And, of course, I dwell often on God’s holy word in the Bible.

 

Which living person do you most despise?

There’s none to compare with that foul snake, Frank Richards. He’s bent on stealin’ our livestock and craves to rape me. He’s out there, runnin’ with them marauders, bringin’ devastation to the land.

 

 Who is the greatest love of your life?

I’ll admit I was often smitten with a handsome face and a beguiling singin’ voice, but my heart belongs now entirely to Joseph Favor. I believe God’s hand brought us together, and though he went off with the cavalry, I will find him and be a good wife to him.

 What is your greatest fear?

I have two fears. One is that this loathsome war will go on forever. The fightin’ and the dyin’.  My second fear is that Joseph will not have me. He’s so conflicted, what with his memory thwarted. I know he loves me but he’s in a powerful lonely place.

 

 

Title:  Asunder, A Novel of the Civil War

Author: Curt Locklear

Genre:  Historical Fiction/ Romance

Publisher: Outskirts Press

Book Cover Credit:  Karen Phillips

Author Picture Credit:  Sandra Timm

 

Book Blurb:

“I’M TRAPPED!” Sara Reeder, a headstrong, beguiling, Southern sympathizer is caught between charging armies!

“AWAKEN, SPIRITS”… “Tell me where my husband, Joseph, fell in battle.” Cyntha Favor, an ardent abolitionist and believer in Spiritualism, seeks to free her dead husband’s tormented soul.

EXCEPT… Joseph, a Union soldier, is not dead! Knocked unconscious in battle, he has lost all memory. Nursed to health by Sara and her father, Lucas, a disabled veteran, Joseph feels drawn to Sara, yet compelled to find his past.

WAR SURROUNDS the Reeder home. Transformed into a field hospital, their only support is Dred Workman, a Union traitor.

FORMER SLAVE, Josiah Reynolds, is protector and confidant of Cyntha. Deep in slave territory, he knows the danger he faces.

THE FOX SISTERS –President Lincoln’s wife invited spiritualists to invoke séances in the White House. These most famous of all Spiritualists become Cyntha’s hope.

MARAUDERS terrorize, kill and move ever closer to the Reeders’ farm.

With RIVER PIRATES, INTENSE BATTLES, and CAPTIVATING ROMANCE,

from Texas to New York, Missouri to Minnesota, the WAR rages. Can love triumph? Who will survive? ASUNDER is a GRIPPING EPIC.

 

Excerpt:

Sara looked down at the embers and then at the white smoke that rose between her and Joseph. “These embers are your love for an unknown woman, and this smoke is hiding me from you.”

“My whole life is clouded with smoke,” Joseph responded. “I need your patience and time.”

Sara lowered her eyes.

Joseph looked admiringly at her, then began to pull the wet clothes out of the caldron and loaded them into a handcart. His sleeves were rolled up, but he still got his shirt wet. Sara, too, gathered the bulky clothing, soaking her blouse. She wiped a wisp of hair from her forehead with her wrist. Joseph watched her. Though he felt confusion about the woman in his flashes of memories, he felt an overpowering attraction to this petite, tough-minded girl. He was grateful for her benevolence towards him. He would miss her singing and her smiles. He felt conflicted, bound both to the woman of his dream and to Sara.

He grabbed the handles of the barrow and forced it forward. Not speaking, they cut to the south through the trees on a meandering path, Sara walking a few feet behind him. The hot sun bore down on them, riffling in and out of wisps of clouds. At length, they reached the clear creek, flowing steadily, the bed filled with large, round, smooth rocks protruding above the waterline. The sunlight danced and shimmered on the water. Yellow, curled, elm tree leaves floated on the water like tiny golden boats. More leaves tumbled from the trees with each breeze gust. Turtles basked on the sun-drenched rocks.

Sara picked a daisy by the water’s edge. She twirled it, ran it briefly under her nose, kissed the petals, then handed the flower to Joseph. He took it, smelled it, and placed it on a shelf rock near the stream. Sara pulled her skirt hem up and tucked the front and back into the waistband, revealing her strong legs from halfway up her thigh, down to her ankles. “I know no other way to do this without ruining my skirt,” she said, blushing. “I hope you don’t find me untoward.”

Joseph rolled his pants legs up to his knees. “Not at all. We’ve got to get these clothes done for the soldiers. I hope the glare of the sun off my white legs doesn’t blind you.”

Sara giggled.

They removed their footwear and socks and rolled up their sleeves to the shoulder. Sara tied her hair back with a pink ribbon from her skirt pocket.

Together, they unloaded the soapy clothes on the rocks, then taking a piece at a time, they dragged the clothes through the flowing stream until the suds were washed free. After that, they wrung the water out and spread each garment and bandage cloth on a sun-blanched rock to dry. Whenever Sara was bent, rinsing a piece, Joseph watched her. When she raised up, he ducked his head, working with his own shirt or cloth, at which time, he noticed out of the corner of his eye Sara sneaking a look at him. Neither said anything to the other. Joseph struggled to think of a clever or uplifting thing to say, but his mind was crisscrossed.  I wish she’d sing, he thought. Occasionally, Sara splashed some of the cool water on her sunburned cheeks.

The water was cold despite the late summer heat. Goosebumps rose on their legs and arms. By the time they were finishing, the fronts of their own clothes were again soaked.  Sara’s white shirt pressed against the corset of her full breasts, following their contour. A ribbon of water trickled down her neck.

When she laid out the last pair of trousers, she turned to Joseph. He had quit his awkward glances, and now stared at her with complete admiration. He walked carefully to her, for the flat rock bottom of the stream was smooth and slippery with algae. He placed one hand around her waist and pulled her to him, their feet sliding on the glass-like surface of the stream bed. With his other hand, he traced the outline of her chin, then softly touched her cheek.

Her heart racing, Sara raised her arms, placing one about his waist, the other at his shoulder. She glided that hand up and down his neck in a slow, deliberate, affectionate manner.

He stroked her wet arms, feeling the suppleness and the tightness of her muscles. Her skin shivered with pleasure under his touch. With his forefinger he brushed her full lips. She closed her eyes, and ran her fingers into his blond locks and gently tilted his head towards hers till their foreheads touched. They held each other in that manner, her with eyes closed, deep in his embrace while he gazed at the loveliest face he knew.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon    Asunder, hardback

https://www.amazon.com/Asunder-Novel-Civil-Curt-Locklear/dp/1478770546/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1476898448&sr=1-1

 

Amazon   Asunder, Kindle

https://www.amazon.com/Asunder-Novel-Civil-Curt-Locklear-ebook/dp/B01FINGN9U/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1476898448&sr=1-1

Amazon    Asunder paperback

https://www.amazon.com/Asunder-Novel-Civil-Curt-Locklear/dp/1478769548/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1476898448&sr=1-1

 

Barnes and Noble paperback

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/asunder-curt-locklear/1123745873?ean=9781478769545

 

Barnes and Noble hardcover

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/asunder-curt-locklear/1123745873?ean=9781478770541

 

Outskirts Press

http://outskirtspress.net/bookstore/details/9781478769545

http://outskirtspress.com/webpage?isbn=9781478769545

 

Wordery Online books

https://wordery.com/asunder-curt-locklear-9781478769545

 

curt-playing-guitar

 

Author Biography:

CURT LOCKLEAR – award-winning author, history teacher, musician, composer, and positive education consultant.  In my career, I have delivered presentations to thousands, small and large groups. My talks are always sprinkled with jokes and intriguing stories. If asked, I can play a few Civil War era tunes on my banjo and/or guitar.

My father trained a race-horse in the Kentucky Derby. My mother was a librarian. I’m related to the first wing-walker. My heritage is Southern and Northern. My Rebel forbearer once cleverly hid from a Yankee squad in corn crib. My Yankee forbearer was a bugler.

 

Social Media Links:

Website https://curtlocklearauthor.com

Email curt@curtlocklearauthor.com

Twitter @CurtLock

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/curtlocklearauthor/

 

 

 

Get to Know Author @LinWilder and Her Upcoming Medical Mystery #POTLReads #FridayReads


Lin Wilder

We first met Lin Wilder in 2015 and after reading her gripping, Do You Solemnly Swear?, we couldn’t get enough of her writing. We’re big fans and after a few nudgings, she agreed to sit down for an author interview. So, grab your favorite beverage and enjoy! Take it away, Lin: 

 

What is your writing process?

It is not linear. Or analytical or anything like my system when I wrote non-fiction. Totally intuitive, ‘from the seat of my pants’ if you will. During the process of writing my first novel, I wasted many months in futile attempts to come with an outline. Finally, I just began to write the book. As I consider my next book, the 4th in my series, I realize that the title is a very early part of my ‘process’ as are important new characters; their names and an image of what they look like and their outstanding attributes.

Do you have any odd writing habits?

I think most of us writers are odd…therefore odd writing habits are to be expected, aren’t they?

Mine? I never have an outline, title generally appears first—at least early. And have no routine—I write when the words are there, only then. I have learned through many failed attempts to push it that if the words are not there then I will write only drivel. The entire intuitive nature of creative writing feels odd to me—even after 3 novels. And with each new novel, I have to relearn to trust this non-rational, non-system…of waiting until the words appear.

What book do you wish you could have written?

What a cool question! It’s actually a play, A Man for all Seasons by Robert Bolt.

Just as your books inspire authors, what authors have inspired you?

Since I read voraciously and have since childhood, there are many. Too many to list here. However, the writers which immediately come to mind are: Dean Koontz, Jodi Piccault, Daniel Silva, Carolyn Keane, Albert Payson Terhune, DW Buffa, Daniel Pink, Stephen Pressfield and Robert Greene.

If you could cast your characters in the Hollywood adaptation of your book, who would play your characters?

Jodi Foster as Dr. Lindsey McCall, Diane Lane would play Kate Townsend, Gerard Butler as Rich Jansen and Liam Hemsworth as Gabe McAllister. Ask me this question next year and the names would change.

How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?

Names are crucial. But not just the way the name sounds rather the ‘fit’ with the character- the person he or she is. I cannot write about a main character without the name. Sometimes it takes time for the name to show up. But usually they hang around for a while. Here is an example: For the book I’ll start as soon as I ‘recover’ from the just published A Price for Genius, the name Morgan Gardner had been in my mind for close to a year. I knew she was a new character for the next book. A surprise because she is 18 and I don’t write about young characters—teens but I guess that is about to change.

What do you consider to be your best accomplishment?

Not sure what you are asking here. I have had a number of careers since it’s been a long time since I’ve been called ‘young.’ In each of the careers, I worked hard-often too hard and accumulated a list of what could be called accomplishments. One of what could be called both a burden and a blessing for me is that once I understand-get something as in master it, I lose interest. Because I think there is so much to learn in our very short lifetimes. So I am going to reword your question to what is the best decision I have ever made? It is two pronged: When I became a Christian Catholic-and when I married my husband John.

Current accomplishments? Writing better books each time. This next book is better than the last one. That is always the goal.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

It’s a funny thing but I have never made 5 year goals. Ever. I concentrate on what is happening now- on what I am working on now. Even back when I had no title at all, the goal was simple. For the first few decades, it was to complete the next degree. Which took a long time—Then it was to finish this article or that chapter or the textbook. And then it was to get this or that job. Current goal—force myself to wait at least 6 weeks before starting next book.

Have you always liked to write?

Yes. But until 7 years ago it was non-fiction. The switch to fiction was a surprise- unplanned, like most of my life. And a dream I pretended I no longer wanted until suddenly there I was writing my first novel. I was shocked.

What writing advice do you have for other aspiring authors?

Write. Don’t talk about writing, write. Don’t ask others’ opinions, write. Every once in a while, read an author you know is great that you love and let yourself be intimidated, overwhelmed and convinced you can never write like him or her. Because you can’t. Don’t try. Get a good, no a great editor. Promise yourself once you begin that you will finish it.

If you didn’t like writing books, what would you do for a living?

Write plays.

Are you a plotter or a pantster?

Not sure what you mean here but am guessing that you are referring back to my reply to question #2. So think I am ‘seat of the pants’.

Do you read your reviews?

Yes of course! Each and every one! Do you respond to them, good or bad? No not usually. Do you have any advice on how to deal with the bad? Get over it!

What is your best marketing tip?

Develop an email list of interested readers. Then send compelling messages about each new book.

What is your least favorite part of the publishing / writing process?

Editing, proofing, then more editing and more proofing.

Is there one subject you would never write about as an author?

Graphic sex as in erotica or horror.

Do you have a favorite spot to write? No. What is it?

Since I use a laptop, I write anywhere and everywhere. So no favorite.

Is there a certain type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others? Love? Action? Racy?

Initially, the sexual scenes were difficult then the murder…now, who knows?

Is this your first book? How many books have you written prior (if any?)

No, this is my sixth book.

What are you working on now?

A Pale Horse- Malthus Revisited.

What is your next project?

It will be the 4th of the Lindsey McCall series.

 

Now for something more personal…

 

Do you write naked?

No.

What is your biggest failure?

Not starting to write fiction before now. Looking at this answer, I am not sure that’s true because I think my early fictional writing would not be anywhere as good as it is now.

What is the biggest fib you’ve ever told?

That Hemmingway was my favorite author before I had read any of his books, or any authors of literary quality for that matter.

Have you ever been in trouble with the law?

No.

Have you ever gotten into a fight?

Verbally, plenty of times. No, not a physical fight.

Characters often find themselves in situations they aren’t sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you found yourself in a situation that was hard to get out of and what did you do?

I have an absurdly awful sense of direction. My husband and I were in Rome on vacation and we went totally different directions in a weirdly configured museum. I walked in circles for over an hour looking for him. Finally, he found and increasingly desperate me.

Do you drink? Smoke? What’s your vice?

Don’t smoke yes I drink but not to the point that it’s a problem. Biggest vice? Pride, vanity selfishness-the usual banal list.

What is your biggest fear?

Not fully using each of my gifts. Being lazy, wasting time.

What do you want your tombstone to say?

Don’t care what it says. Figure by then I have done all that I can do so what is written there does not matter.

If you had a superpower, what would it be?

Converse with animals- all of them, really understanding one another, the way it must have been in Eden.

If you were a super hero, what would your name be? What costume would you wear?

Wonder Woman- her costume would be fine.

What literary character is most like you?

Both Kate Townsend and Lindsey McCall have similar qualities.

 

What secret talents do you have?

Anything I do well is public knowledge. It’s the stuff I do poorly that I keep to myself.

Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?

Israel. I would like to see where Christ lived.

If you were an animal, what would you be and why?

Humpback whale. I think they have sacred knowledge.

What’s on your bucket list (things to do before you die)?

Don’t have a bucket list.  Am not a list maker. Probably should be but am not.

If you could have any name in the world, what would you choose?

Probably Lindsey.

Do you have any scars? What are they from?

On my knees from road rash.

What were you like as a child? Your favorite toy?

Withdrawn loner. My blue stuffed dog with an unimaginative name: Blue Dog

What do you dream? Do you have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

Yes, trying to escape humungous tidal waves.

 

apriceforgenius-cover-300ppi

 

Title: A Price for Genius

Author: Lin Wilder

Genre: Medical Mystery

Publisher: Wyatt Mackenzie Imprint

 

Book Blurb:

Dr. Lindsey McCall’s worst fears are realized. Not only have both drugs been stolen but two women have been kidnapped- one maybe dead. Lindsey had known Liisa Reardon’s new drug was alchemy, only this time, the end product actually more precious than gold.

The desperate call from Hank Reardon in Switzerland came late at night causing too many questions. And no answers. Could Lindsey and Rich Jansen uncover who was behind the crimes? It was an inside job-could they figure out who had sold out the Reardons? All in time to save Reardon’s daughter and her chief tech Ariana? Were they risking their lives as well?

The evil words smolder in her mind, the contents of the letter delivered to Hank Reardon

Hello Mr. Reardon,

By the time you get this letter, it will be too late. We’ll already have her.

Here are the steps you must not take:

  • Do not call the cops.
  • Do not contact the FBI
  • Tell no one.
  • We’ll know if you or the FBI. We’ll and we’ll kill her instantly.

You must know Sir, there is a price for genius. We trust you will pay it if you want to see your daughter alive.

 

Excerpt:

PROLOGUE

 Lausanne, Switzerland

Suddenly regaining consciousness, Rich Jansen attempted to stand, then instantly regretted the movement. The pain began at the base of his head and exploded in successive and increasingly intense waves of agony, forcing him to close his eyes, hang his head and wait motionless. Remaining on his hands and knees for a minute then two for the pain to subside, for the nausea to fade, Jansen risked opening his eyes. Squinting at the bright light, he very slowly and carefully moved his head from right to left.

So far so good. Linoleum floor, shiny black and white. That noise what is that sound? Aw no, don’t tell me, please God…

The memories flooded back as Rich raised himself up enough to crouch, knowing better than to immediately stand up. Gingerly reaching behind his head with his right hand, he winced when his fingers probed a large wet and sore swelling at the back of his head. Slowly he stood, swaying a bit while the vast room spun about him.

Whatever they hit me with carried a hell of a wallop.

The phone call from Reardon had happened last night? Or was it yesterday? The minute he hung up the phone, Rich had called the airport to secure a seat on the next flight to Zurich. Sixteen hours later, he had arrived at the animal research labs in the corporate offices of Andrews, Sacks, and Levine, one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world, located in Lausanne Switzerland.

The elfin Ariana had been showing him where the test mice were kept when everything went black. Looking around for her Jansen saw only a few spots of blood and some scuff marks. He saw mice scrabbling all over the lab; for whatever reasons, whoever broke in decided to free hundreds of mice and Ariana was nowhere to be seen.

The letter…where is the letter?

Jansen reached into the pockets of his sports jacket, the copy of the one he’d had on since leaving San Luis Obispo, California and breathed a sigh of relief when his right hand pulled out the single page. A page now bloodied from his head wound.

Hello Mr. Reardon,

By the time you get this letter, it will be too late. We’ll already have her.

Here are the steps you must not take:

  • Do not call the cops.
  • Do not contact the FBI
  • Tell no one.

We’ll know if you contact the police or the FBI. We’ll know and we’ll kill her instantly. But we are civilized businesspeople; this is all about business after all. Do nothing at all until you hear from us. And you will hear from us, Mr. Reardon.

You must know Sir, there is a price for genius. We trust you will pay it if you want to see your daughter alive.

In the other pocket of his jacket, Jansen found his cell. He hit her number.

Please pick up, please pick up.

Heart hammering as he counted the rings, Jansen’s knees nearly buckled with relief when his wife answered her phone. “Lindsey, where are you?”

“Neither. I’m at the track, I was just starting a run with Max.” Lindsey stopped still. She could hear the tension in her husband’s voice.

“Honey, I need to you to get here as soon as you can find someone to take care of Max and get a flight out to Zurich. We’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“What’s happened Rich, what is going on?”

“ Someone clubbed me while Ari was showing me around the lab. When I woke up, Ariana was missing and hundreds of mice were running around loose. Ari and I must have surprised whoever has decided to steal Liisa’s research. Hank is…well, you can imagine how he is.” Grabbing a nearby chair to steady himself, “There’s a letter from Liisa’s kidnappers. We need you to figure out how we meet their demands, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Are you okay?” Lindsey was on her phone searching for flights out of San Francisco to Zurich  as she waited for his answer.

Rich swayed from another wave of dizziness and nausea, gulped and replied, “Other than a mega lump on the back of my skull, yeah, I’m fine.. Whoever it was just wanted me out of commission for a few minutes. Ari and I must have interrupted whoever it was.”

Rich surveyed the disarray in the lab. Cages were overturned and he could hear the squeals of mice and the scrabbling of their feet on the tiled floor. That had been the noise he had heard when he was coming to. He was way too old for this crap and knew just who he’d call once he ended the call with his wife.

“I can get there faster from San Francisco. I’m calling Kate to make sure it would be okay to bring Max to their house. I’ll aim to be in Zurich by tomorrow at this time, will call you when I know the time I’ll get in. Be careful Rich, please.” But there was only dead air.

“Hey, McAllister, Rich Jansen here. Are you and Baron still roaming free around the country?

“Yo, Rich!” Rich could hear the smile in Gabe’s voice.

“Are you still looking to work for Zach and me?”

“You mean like as a private investigator?”

“Probably more than just investigation Gabe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Gabe, this could get dicey. Two women have been kidnapped, Reardon has a note threatening that they’ll kill his head of research at his pharmaceutical company Andrews, Sacks, and Levine if he brings in the police or the feds. She also happens to be his daughter. And I’ve been attacked within my first hour here.” Scanning the space once again, hoping that Ariana would materialize, Jansen added, “And it looks as if they grabbed the head of the animal research labs too. She was showing me around when we were suddenly assaulted. She is nowhere to be found.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Price-Genius-Dr-Lin-Wilder/dp/1942545681/ref=cm_wl_huc_item#productPromotions

 

Author Biography:

Lin Weeks Wilder has published dozens of articles, wrote a textbook, and has written four self-help books. Lin has written three medical thrillers situated in Houston, Texas where Lin worked for over 23 years.

The Fragrance Shed by a Violet, the sequel Do You Solemnly Swear? and the third in her series, A Price for Genius. The story of the return to faith, Finding the Narrow Road was an unplanned surprise. In her free time, Lin Wilder enjoys hiking, listening to beautiful music, gardening and last but certainly not least, reading. Lin is married to a former Marine and psychologist with 25 years of experience counseling ex- combat veterans. They reside in Nevada with their two dogs.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lincwilder?ref=hl

Twitter https://twitter.com/LinWilder

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/linwilder

LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/linwilder

About Me https://about.me/lin.wilder

Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Dr.-Lin-Wilder/e/B007L380OM

 

 

Meet Haatim Arison from World on Fire Series by @LincolnjCole #Interview #Horror #POTLReads


haatim-ci

 

My name is Haatim Arison. I’m a recent college graduate with a degree in Theology, and I’ve studied basically every major religion during my tenure at Arizona State University. I love learning about new things, and I write a blog in my spare time. A few months ago, my sister passed away, and it’s been rough on me, but since that happened I’ve found out a lot of things about the world I never imagined possible. Basically, everything that happened leading up to Raven’s Peak changed my life. I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about that, however…

 

What is your current state of mind?

A little hectic and frantic, to be honest. I’ve had a little bit of time to process this new reality that I never expected, but it’s still been entirely overwhelming. Frieda has been good to me and brought me in slowly, but I still feel like I have a lot to learn.

 

On what occasion do you lie?

If you asked me this a few months ago, I would have said never. But, now, I find myself lying more often than I would like. To my family, mostly, but especially my mother. I hated my father for keeping this reality from me, but now I think I’m beginning to understand why he did it.

 

When and where were you happiest?

When I was young with my sister and just being silly and carefree. I miss her so much, and it has really had a huge impact on me losing her the way I did. Losing her like we did was the hardest thing in my life.

 

Which talent would you most like to have?

Sword Fighting. I’m always impressed by people who can hold their own in a brawl. It’s never really been my thing, which is why I think I like it so much. We rarely acknowledge the talents we actually have.

 

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Again, I’m not allowed to talk about what happened in Raven’s Peak…

 

Where would you most like to live?

I love traveling, and especially in these last few months. Frieda is a true globe trotter, and now I think I want to experience a little bit of everything.

 

What do you most value in your friends?

Honesty. I love people who are open and honest about everything.

 

RavensPeak

ravens-fall

 

Title: Raven’s Peak (Book I, World on Fire)/ Raven’s Fall (Book II, World on Fire)

Author: Lincoln Cole

Genre: Horror/Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Kindle Press

 

Book Blurb:

Raven’s Peak:

A quiet little mountain town is hiding a big problem. When the townsfolk of Raven’s Peak start acting crazy, Abigail Dressler is called upon to discover the root of the evil affecting people. She uncovers a demonic threat unlike any she’s ever faced and finds herself in a fight just to stay alive.

Abigail rescues Haatim Arison from a terrifying fate and discovers that he has a family legacy in the supernatural that he knows nothing about. Now she’s forced to protect him, which is easy, but also to trust him if she wants to save the townsfolk of Raven’s Peak. Trust, however, is something hard to have for someone who grew up living on the knife’s edge of danger.

Can they discover the cause of the town’s insanity and put a stop to it before it is too late?

 

Raven’s Fall:

Abigail was arrested by the Council, and now she’s awaiting trial for the decisions she made leading up to and culminating in the events of Raven’s Peak. She is restless while she waits for answers and knows that there is a real threat outside their walls plotting to bring them down.

Meanwhile, Haatim is getting a crash course in this world he knew nothing about and finding out that nothing is as it seems. He’s being taught how to survive, but will it be enough?

There are dark clouds on the horizon and it is coming whether they are prepared or not. Will they be able to weather this storm?

 

Excerpt:

“Reverend, you have a visitor.”

 

He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with the pain. When agony first turned to pleasure, and then to joy. Of course, it hadn’t always been like this. He remembered screaming all those years ago when first they put him in this cell; those memories were vague, though, like reflections in a dusty mirror.

 

“Open D4.”

 

A buzz as the door slid open, inconsequential. The aching need was what drove him in this moment, and nothing else mattered. It was a primal desire: a longing for the tingly rush of adrenaline each time the lash licked his flesh. The blood dripping down his parched skin fulfilled him like biting into a juicy strawberry on a warm summer’s day.

 

“Some woman. Says she needs to speak with you immediately. She says her name is Frieda.”

 

A pause, the lash hovering in the air like a poised snake. The Reverend remembered that name, found it dancing in the recesses of his mind. He tried to pull himself back from the ritual, back to reality, but it was an uphill slog through knee-deep mud to reclaim those memories.

 

It was always difficult to focus when he was in the midst of his cleansing. All he managed to cling to was the name. Frieda. It was the name of an angel, he knew. . . or perhaps a devil.

 

One and the same when all was said and done.

 

She belonged to a past life, only the whispers of which he could recall. The ritual reclaimed him, embraced him with its fiery need. His memories were nothing compared to the whip in his hand, its nine tails gracing his flesh.

 

The lash struck down on his left shoulder blade, scattering droplets of blood against the wall behind him. Those droplets would stain the granite for months, he knew, before finally fading away. He clenched his teeth in a feral grin as the whip landed with a sickening, wet slapping sound.

 

“Jesus,” a new voice whispered from the doorway. “Does he always do that?”

 

“Every morning.”

 

“You’ll cuff him?”

 

“Why? Are you scared?”

 

The Reverend raised the lash into the air, poised for another strike.

 

“Just…man, you said he was crazy…but this…”

 

The lash came down, lapping at his back and the tender muscles hidden there. He let out a groan of mixed agony and pleasure.

 

These men were meaningless, their voices only echoes amid the rest, an endless drone. He wanted them to leave him alone with his ritual. They weren’t worth his time.

 

“I think we can spare the handcuffs this time; the last guy who tried spent a month in the hospital.”

 

“Regulation says we have to.”

 

“Then you do it.”

 

The guards fell silent. The cat-o’-nine-tails, his friend, his love, became the only sound in the roughhewn cell, echoing off the granite walls. He took a rasping breath, blew it out, and cracked the lash again. More blood. More agony. More pleasure.

 

“I don’t think we need to cuff him,” the second guard decided.

 

“Good idea. Besides, the Reverend isn’t going to cause us any trouble. He only hurts himself. Right, Reverend?”

 

The air tasted of copper, sickly sweet. He wished he could see his back and the scars, but there were no mirrors in his cell. They removed the only one he had when he broke shards off to slice into his arms and legs. They were afraid he would kill himself.

 

How ironic was that?

 

“Right, Reverend?”

 

Mirrors were dangerous things, he remembered from that past life. They called the other side, the darker side. An imperfect reflection stared back, threatening to steal pieces of the soul away forever.

 

 

Buy Links:

Raven’s Peak: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FVEZ6G2

The Ninth Circle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01KKOBKRC

Raven’s Fall: https://www.amazon.com/Ravens-Fall-World-Fire-Book-ebook/dp/B01LW31JLU

 

Lincoln Cole

 

Author Biography:

Lincoln Cole is a Columbus-based author who enjoys traveling and has visited many different parts of the world, including Australia and Cambodia, but always returns home to his pugamonster and wife. His love for writing was kindled at an early age through the works of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King and he enjoys telling stories to anyone who will listen.

 

Social Media Links:

https://www.facebook.com/LincolnJCole

https://www.twitter.com/LincolnJCole

https://www.amazon.com/Lincoln-Cole/e/B00AUIOU3A/

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

THE TWO SINBADS: A Guest Post by Clive Johnson @AuthorClive #books #POTLReads #amreading


THE TWO SINBADS: A Guest Post by Clive Johnson

Clive Johnson, author of the newly-published ‘Arabian Nights & Arabian Nights’, reflects on the common nature of Sinbad the Sailor and his patient companion, Sinbad the Porter.

 sinbada

 

The adventures of Sinbad the Sailor occupy most of the column inches in the seven tales that feature him in the canon of the Arabian Nights. His voyages, discoveries in strange lands, and many near-death experiences are described in wonderful detail, enchanting anyone who hears them. In many ways, these tales embody much of what is enthralling in The Nights – they are filled with color, intrigue, magic, and surprise, to mention just a few of their many virtues.

However, there’s another Sinbad who features in each of these tales – Sinbad the Porter. This poor street-dweller doesn’t have a shekel to his name–at least before he meets Sinbad the Sailor he doesn’t–and spends much of his time bewailing the injustice of his lot. How can it be, he ponders, that some people such as the sailor can have so much, while so many lack even a daily meal or clothes to protect their bodies?

This is a question that we may well ask today, but that’s a topic for another time. What interests me is how the two Sinbads interact. Their first encounter is cordial, but the porter wonders what the motive of the sailor is. The poor man is invited each night to join the sailor in his house, to enjoy a lavish meal, and be entertained with another of the great adventurer’s stories. He even is offered a monetary gift each time the meal ends, leaving him in no doubt that his host is genuine in his wish to show hospitality.

As the seven tales unfold, it becomes clear that the sailor uses his storytelling as a way of expunging his guilt for some of the bad things he has done during his voyages (like killing). With the ever-more fantastical adventures that he describes testing credulity, we might begin to wonder whether he doesn’t occasionally embellish what really happened. He seems desperate to impress, and possibly lost in something of a fantasy himself.

The porter, meanwhile, becomes more comfortable in himself, increasingly feeling satisfied when he leaves the sailor’s house each evening. The two begin to act out a dance, indulging each other’s company, and possibly even becoming slightly dependent on each other. One projects aspects of himself onto the other; even if they don’t see it, there’s a person they recognize in the character of the other.

Some commentators on The Nights suggest that the two Sinbads are really meant to represent one person. Both may have faults, seen in their shadow selves. It’s by coming together and seeing how they can complement and teach other that both men are able to move on from their current states of mind.

We all have shadow selves, the part of us that is unseen and gets projected onto others. Often it’s those closest to us who are best able to reflect back something of this hidden character. That’s one reason why we are attracted to some people – they are perfect partners for helping us grow. I think that there’s something of the porter and the sailor in all us.

 

anan_cvr_v01

 

Title: ARABIAN NIGHTS & ARABIAN NIGHTS. TRADITIONAL TALES FROM A THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS, CONTEMPORARY TALES FOR ADULTS

Author: CLIVE JOHNSON

Genre: FICTION / SHORT STORIES (CLASSIC AND CONTEMPORARY)

Publisher: LABYRINTHE PRESS

 

Audible version available soon.

 

Book Blurb:

Magic carpets and flying horses, caverns glittering with gold, unexpected plotlines following the fortunes of heroes and villains–who cannot fail to be enchanted by the magic and wonder of the tales of the One Thousand and One Nights?

This most celebrated collections of tales feature shape-shifting and miraculous transportation across continents, powerful jinn who rise like smoke from simple vessels, dreams that delve into the secrets of the subconscious, and gigantic, man-carrying birds.

The backdrop for the tales moves from barren deserts to spectacular cities, from the edge of the world to the inner sanctuaries of mighty rulers. Kings and paupers, benevolent sages and devious magicians, worthy princesses and unscrupulous harlots–all play their part in teaching important truths and providing lively entertainment.

This innovative book offers retellings of a selection of tales that have captured the imaginations of countless people over many centuries. Accompanying each is a short story set in a contemporary context, which reframes the messages and teachings of the original, specifically written for an adult audience.

Here are stories of betrayal and murder, exploitation and sibling rivalry, soul-searching and discovery. The modern parallel tales swap the busy alleyways of old Baghdad for the horror of Saddam’s prisons, move from following caravans sweeping across the Sahara to modern day pilgrims trekking along the Caminos of northern Spain, and lift Aladdin out of his cave to unwittingly face Triad gangsters and antiques smugglers.

Wayward Baptist ministers, adulterous accountants, and eco-warrior backpackers follow in the footsteps of the no-less colourful characters than those that feature in the original tales.

Each pair of stories is accompanied by a commentary on how they might be interpreted. The result is a gripping collection of tales that may continue to bring the mystery and magic of the Nights to life, as well as provoking fresh thought and feeling for adult readers. Prepare to be surprised, uplifted and–in the spirit of the original Arabian Nights Entertainments–enthralled.

 

Excerpt:

A journalist had picked up on the news of Todd’s arrest, and by some means had been able to identify him as a Baptist pastor. Soon, the news of my husband’s escapade with the prostitute had made not only the front page of the Louisville Courier-Journal, but had carried across the state to Lexington too. I dreaded to think what the decent people of our church would say when they saw the photograph of their pastor being paraded in front of a police identification plate.

 

When we returned to Lexington, most people seemed to want to avoid mentioning the topic. It was obvious to me that they had been deeply unsettled by Todd’s indiscretion, but to our faces at least, they promised their love, assuring us that ours is a God of love, able to forgive every sinner–even a wayward minister.

 

Todd was not afraid to show his contrition before his flock. Were Oscars awarded for emotional outpouring by those in church ministry, Todd would surely be nominated for an award. Whether or not his tears were genuine I do not know, but he certainly gave a powerful example of how to show repentance when he took his place on the dais.

 

“O my Father, how I have failed you! How I have let these, my beloved brothers and sisters, down! Forgive me, for I am the worse among sinners!”

 

His cries and wailing knew no limit. Kneeling before the congregation, Todd accepted the prayers and blessings of the people. Two of the deacons laid hands on him, commanding the demons that were in him to depart.

 

Perhaps this display was good for our community. Other men in the congregation came forward to confess their infidelity, and to receive the forgiveness of the Lord Jesus and those of us who serve Him. In fact, I don’t think that our church had for a long time felt so overcome by the love and warmth of The Holy Spirit.

 

The experience had certainly been a shock for Todd. He knew that his position as a pastor would be under threat were he to backslide again. More than anything, I think that he was genuinely aware that he’d been unfaithful to his Lord.

 

He had been unfaithful to me too, and privately I went through a period of hurt and suffering. But the fast pace of events, and Todd’s apparent regret for his actions, kept me focused on supporting my husband.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon.com: http://goo.gl/ks4rLB

Amazon.co.uk: http://goo.gl/24yhro

Amazon.ca: http://goo.gl/Y2FWlh

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/mIP8kB

 

clive-johnson

 

Author Biography:

Arabian Nights & Arabian Nights is Clive Johnson’s seventh book, and the second in the series that takes old and often familiar tales and retells them alongside modern-day versions. Taking this approach, Clive says that he aims to recapture some of the magic and important messages that can be found in traditional fairytales, stories from mythology, etc, while inspiring fresh wonder among adult readers.

His earlier books were aimed at business readers, and he’s also edited an anthology of interfaith wisdom. Recently, Clive has also started narrating and producing audible audiobooks for other authors, which is an activity that he says he particularly enjoys.

Clive spends most of his time in the UK, where he was born, although he has no fixed home. This allows him to follow his heart from place to place, often house and pet sitting for friends and others who are taking a break away. He also often takes in or hosts retreats and workshops on various themes. Many house sits introduce him to some wonderful furry friends, and provide the perfect opportunity for settling into some serious writing!

Having an autistic condition and with a strong interest in mysticism, Clive likes to approach his work with a keen curiosity. He says that he enjoys researching and imagining a story almost as much as he does writing it.

Clive is an avid reader, and an ordained interfaith minister.

 

Social Media Links:

Goodreads: http://goo.gl/VLfGVL

Clive’s Author Facebook page: http://goo.gl/hVrz3e

Clive’s blog (‘The autistic mystic’): http://goo.gl/ZcBNnD

Clive’s Twitter profile: https://twitter.com/AuthorClive

 

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Take These Broken Wings by @LiviaQuinn is Available Now! #POTLReads #ASMSG #IARTG


Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Title:    Take These Broken Wings

Author:  Livia Quinn

Genre:  Southern Paranormal Cozy

 

Book Blurb:

Welcome to Mayberry, or should I say Middle Earth?

 

I’m Jack Lang, the Sheriff of Destiny, Louisiana. After my sexy redheaded mail lady zapped me, this seemingly normal small town turned into a never-ending stream of supernaturals – fae, dragons, vampires, djinn—not to mention some plain ol’ kooks. Ironically, I was all set to accept the dark side when I discovered the secret in my own DNA and, well, to say I was in shock would be like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.

 

There’s one thing that can get me back on the job – a murder investigation. But I’ll also have to deal with supernatural hitmen, dragon hunters and being in the doghouse with my girlfriend. If I don’t get a handle on “My new life” before long, I’m going to lose the respect of the Paramortals, not to mention the woman I love.  Maybe I should just holler uncle now. Things can always get worse.

 

After all, this is Destiny, and ludicrous is its middle name.

 

Book 5 is the completion of Jack and Tempe’s Paramortal arc, an epiphany of sorts, but the story continues. If you enjoy the Paranormal Urban Fantasy Cozy worlds of Kristen Painter, Darynda Jones or Molly Harper, try the Destiny Paramortals series.

 

Excerpt:

Jack watched, sunglasses hiding his expression as Montana and her partner, Rafe, unloaded the gurney from the back of the truck. A slender older man with wire rims stepped out and grabbed a black bag from inside. He took stock of his surroundings before walking toward us. It was Dan Thorpe, the ME who had worked with Jack last spring, examining and testing several supernaturals, including Jack’s ex.

He stopped when he reached us and stuck out his hand. “Jack. It’s good to see you. I heard you were out of town at some kind of school.” The story we’d circulated round town to keep it simple.

Jack took Dan’s hand and said only, “I’m back.” A fortuitous word choice. Did he mean back in town, back to work, or that my Jack was back? I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case… yet.

“Where’s the deceased?” The ME asked.

Jack made a half turn and pointed at the large puddle to his left created by his big dragon foot. We knew this but to Dan it looked like just another pool of backwater created from the recent rains. He knelt by the puddle working his way toward the pieces of one exposed bone. After examining them for several minutes, he straightened, “Damn. It looks like someone ran over them with a bulldozer.”

Jack asked, “Postmortem?” I laughed covering it with a fake cough receiving a glare from Jack. “Show some respect for the victim, Ms. Pomeroy.” Zeus, he was good. I glimpsed a touch of humor in his eyes.

Dan said, “Given the condition of the remains, and all this backwater, I’m going to need more equipment and different tools.”

“What equipment do you need exactly?”

Dan stroked his jaw and made a list, “A pump to displace the water away from this area for probably fifty feet. We’ll start with that. Maybe we’ll get lucky and all the evidence will be contained here. I have to go back to my office and get some suitable clothing, waders and tools.”

Rafe said, “I’ll run you back to town.”

Jack said, “Dan, if you’ll cordon off the perimeter where you want it, I think I’ve got a pump in my car.” Then his eyes cut to me. He wasn’t serious…

“Where is your car?” asked Dan.

“Uh… down the levee a piece. Tempe and I were walking when we spotted that bone near the bank.”

That was such a lie but the humans must be protected at all costs. It was part of the Paramortal banner—Don’t let the mere-mortals see your magic! If I wasn’t mistaken, I was fixin’ to be called upon for some moisture manipulation.

Rafe made a u-turn down the side of the levee and left. We waited until the sound of the truck’s engine could barely be heard. Conor didn’t bother to remain aloof when it was just the four of us. He took Montana in his arms not caring whether we watched or not and gave her a deep ardent kiss as if he hadn’t seen her in days. Not since their morning tea at least. I cast a glance at Jack, sadness a heavy weight in my chest.

Jack crooked his finger at me. It was too much to hope that he wanted to lay some of the same action on me. Sure enough, he walked about twenty feet the other side of the body and said, “Can you clear this water out of here?”

My brows rose and I put my hands on my hips. Really? Not even a Please, Tempe? “Do I look like a bilge pump to you?”

He did laugh then, but I didn’t see the humor. Suddenly I was furious. I considered refusing. I should, I really should and I would. Next time. But the fact that he was impatient and wanted to get started investigating this tragedy was a step in the right direction. As stubborn and as bossy as he could be, I welcomed that.

“I might help you out. This one time,” I added narrowing my eyes at him. “But you’ll owe me.”

I could almost see his dragon face as those silvery eyes flashed. “Fine. Do it. Just try not to disturb the bones.”

“Says the man—the dragon—who stomped on the evidence with his big clumsy feet,” I retorted.

“Okay. Quid pro quo. Now what are you going to do—spin up a whirlpool, tornado, inhale the water and spit it out somewhere else?”

I gasped, “Are you kidding me? That’s slimy nasty, foul backwater. I suggest you hold onto that tree, or do your dragon thing.” I closed my eyes. Menori was happy. Unlike countless times before when I didn’t know what would happen and needed emotion to even stir a breeze or zap a door lock, she was part of me now. We worked in sync.

I called the wind, feeling the breeze across my face first as it gathered and plastered my clothes to my body. The distant wail announced its approach. Sometimes people don’t realize what they’re hearing, until it’s gotten a good head of steam. It’s as powerful as any force in the universe.

We didn’t need a straight-line wind for this simple job, but I figured it was the easiest to explain. This time of year they came out of nowhere. I held my hand out toward the water and guided the wide swath of wind toward the slew, over the berm and out toward the main channel of the river.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jack called. My eyes popped open again and I saw him clinging to the only tree around for dear life.

I shut off my power and asked exasperated, “Why didn’t you shift?” His hat was gone and his hair stuck up everywhere. He released the tree straightening his shirt and nodded past me with a raise of his eyebrow.

Zeus’ hand-me-down knickers! I made a great bilge pump if I did say so myself. The water was gone from the puddle, which was clearly dry. Hmm, maybe I went a bit too far. The ground was dry as well. This would be tricky to explain to Dan.

With my fists propped on my hips I turned to Jack, my expression all innocent-like, “Well, weather is known for being unpredictable.”

He rolled his eyes, “Clearly your weather is.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com//dp/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon UK  https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/uk/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon CA https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/ca/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takethesebrokenwings-2140770-140.html

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1118777289?mt=11

Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940153209159

Page Foundry  http://www.inktera.com/store/title/d4e2e093-1630-4de2-a54c-62861bf58f41

Scribd  http://www.scribd.com/book/313905436

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Love happens…when you least expect it. So does the weather. So magic in one form or another, and storms, are at the heart of most Livia Quinn books. A DC native who lives on the bayou in Louisiana, Livia has stored up a wealth of quirky stories from her jobs as a mail lady, sales person, plant manager and small business owner that she’s anxious to share with her readers. Visit her soon on her new website https://www.liviaquinn.com

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: liviaquinnwrites.blogspot.com

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com

Website: http://liviaquinn.com

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/liviaquinnwrites

Twitter    http://twitter.com/liviaquinn

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8286639.Livia_Quinn

Livia’s Author Central page http://amzn.to/1T5qmhN

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LiviaQuinn

Linkedin http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

Independent Author Network http://bit.ly/2dlAr8L

Author Central http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KPDXXE2

 

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We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

The Forgotten Fairytales by @angelaparkhurst is Such a Fun Read #YA #FairyTales #BookReview


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The Forgotten Fairytales
by Angela Parkhurst
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: February 10th 2014

 

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Summary from Goodreads:

Once upon a time, seventeen-year-old Norah Hart believed in the lure of fairytales and happily ever afters. That was before she was forced to live in a fairy tale nightmare.

A psychotic, couture-clad, shoe obsessed Princess.
A not-so-charming, alcoholic Prince.
A hot Big Bad Wolf that she absolutely cannot fall for—no matter how well he kisses.

If Norah had known she’d be attending a boarding school for the nut job reincarnations of fairy tale characters, she would have insisted on going to Moscow with her father. But getting out isn’t as easy as she thought. Especially once Norah realizes she, too, is a storybook character. An Unknown. The first one in over one hundred years. Soon Norah learns she has the ability to rewrite the stories, putting everyone’s Happily Ever After in jeopardy.

Some princesses will do whatever it takes to protect their endings. Even if it means betraying the one closest to you.

 

Add to Goodreads

 

My Review:

Reimagined fairy tales are all the rage and if you’re looking for something fun, sassy and hysterical, grab this book. I loved the sexy big, bad wolf (alpha male yumminess). Norah takes us on an eye-opening journey through my favorite fairy tales, combining the irreverence of Bridget Jones with Hans Christian Andersen. Cinderella as a Mean Girl was an original twist but I went with it. The school she attends is downright entertaining and while there were parts of the plot that were predictable, I still enjoyed myself.

 

A must-read for anyone who loves fairy tales, romance and pining for their own happily ever after. Fans of Once Upon a Time will swoon over this one.

 

My Rating: 4 stars

 

Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Createspace

 

Book Trailer:

 

 

angela-parkhurst

 

About the Author:

I am the author of the Forgotten Fairytales series.
I love reading YA and NA books. I have 2 toddler boys, 2 mini doxins & I’m married to my high school sweetheart. I have an obsession with books, Disney, and am fueled by a wicked coffee addiction.

 

In addition to YA fantasy, I write contemporary young adult and new adult novels.

 

Author Links:

Website | GoodreadsTwitterFacebook

 

GIVEAWAY:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Blog Tour Organized by:

YA Bound Book Tours

 

 

 

 

Single Chicas by Sandra C. Lopez is a Fresh Take on the Single Life #BookReview #WomensFiction


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Title: Single Chicas

Author: Sandra C. Lopez

Genre: Short Stories, Hispanic Fiction, Women’s Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

Perfection is a Barbie doll, and, unless you’re looking for a guy with a fake smile, a hard head, and no genitalia, then you’re better off NOT being perfect―Single Chicas

 

Single Chicas is a collection of stories about modern Latinas being in, out, and around the zany hurdles of relationships. One woman receives strange calls from a lonely soul, another seeks advice on how to love herself, and another wakes up in a parallel universe to a man she’s never met. These chicas will make painstaking effort to survive the complexities with humor and grace. Once again, López dazzles audiences with her brilliantly candid craft. Smart, witty, and funny, these stories will explore the true endurance of singlehood.

 

My Review:

There’s a brand new voice in Women’s Fiction and her name is Sandra Lopez. Single Chicas brings a new perspective to the trials and tribulations of being a single woman. A Hispanic group of women dealing with everything from being hit on by men in the grocery store to a crank caller to learning to love oneself to trying to please your family. These six short stories will make you laugh, cry, nod your head in agreement and so much more.

 

Sandra Lopez knows what she writes and it adds truth to the characters in these stories. She sprinkles humor throughout while bringing up serious topics like love, friendship, stalkers, self-esteem and what it means to straddle two cultures. I laughed at loud at the story when a chica attempts to diffuse an unwanted suitor trying to pick her up at the grocery store by pretending to be a lesbian, only to have it back-fire on her in a big way.

 

Both single and married women will enjoy these stories. As a married woman, I remembered fondly going through similar experiences as a single woman. Not to sound like a cliché but I could totally see this Hispanic Sex and the City group of women becoming a hit for television. A must read!

 

Favorite Quote:

“Guys really suck. I mean, are they stupid? Do they realize how much they suck?” – The Lesbian Theory

 

My Rating:  5+ stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Single-Chicas-Sandra-C-Lopez-ebook/dp/B01KG85F1Y

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/658343

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/single-chicas

Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/single-chicas-sandra-lopez/1124415443?ean=2940153681405

 

sandra c lopez

 

Author Biography:

Sandra Lopez is considered one of today’s influential Latina writers in young adult literature. Her first novel, “Esperanza,” a teen fiction novel, was published in March 2008 WHILE she was still in college! “Beyond the Gardens,” is the sequel to her engaging and inspirational heroine, Esperanza.

 

She travels as much as she can and is currently at work on her next book.

 

To find out more about her books, please visit her website at www.sandra-lopez.com

 

Social Media Links:

Website http://www.sandra-lopez.com/pages/home.html

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1656820.Sandra_C_Lopez

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sandra-Lopez/173657042664609

Blog http://sandrasbookclub.blogspot.com/

Shelfari http://www.shelfari.com/sandrasbookreviews/shelf

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

The Phoenix Syndrome by Claire Gem @GemWriter + #EntertoWin Amazon GC #Romance #MFRWAuthor


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Title:    The Phoenix Syndrome

Author:    Claire Gem

Genre:     Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction

Publisher:  Erato Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

Turning forty, for lab technician Lannie Marvin, is rough. It’s the day she discovers her husband is leaving her for a younger “soulmate.” At work, a crazed mouse brutally bites her. Then Lannie goes a little crazy, too.

Seems she’s recently developed a serious crush on the drummer of her son’s favorite heavy metal band. Waking up to her husband’s empty closet, her finger still throbbing from the mouse bite, Lannie snaps. Under the ruse of a shopping trip, Lannie kidnaps her sister-in-law/best friend and heads toward Bethel, New York – the site of the original Woodstock concert.

Just so happens Dreamwish is playing a concert there, and Lannie managed to procure the pair of tickets her son won but couldn’t use.

Tristan Allard, the band’s drummer, holds this breast cancer benefit every year in memory of his late wife. The musician is beginning to doubt his ability to write the band’s music without his wife’s inspiration – she was also his muse. Plus, he’s damn lonely. So when a sexually charged, extremely attractive, slightly older woman literally plows into him at the backstage reception, Tristan is ready to learn more about her – and her long-buried interest in musical composition.

The two head off for a wild ride of a weekend, but reality boomerangs way too soon. Tristan is headed back to the UK to audition his next album’s scores. And for Lannie, an elevated libido isn’t the only side-effect of that experimental drug.

Lannie soon discovers the treated mice are going deaf.

 

Giveaway:

Enter to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Winner will be drawn on 10/5

 

Trailer:

 

 

Excerpt:

But then there was the drummer. If not for the overhead monitors panning in for close-ups during the performance, I might never have known he existed. What a travesty that would have been.

In a word, he was . . . magnificent. He sat like a king on his throne at the elevated rear of the stage, sparkling silver-flake drums surrounding him like loyal minions. The monitor directly over our seats focused on him often, so close and so clear I could see the sweat glistening on sculpted upper arms, bare beneath a black muscle shirt stretched taut across a broad chest. Some sort of ink crawled over one bicep. A black-and-white paisley bandanna covered most of his head, but long, dark curls framed his face and clung damp against his neck. His facial hair, limited to a sparse mustache and goatee, was chocolate brown. I indulged in the fantasy that his eyes were that same sweet, smoldering color.

His passion for his work was palpable. Hands flying, head bobbing, he was completely engrossed, as if the music were a drug he was tripping on. His hooded eyes gave him the look of a sleepy lover, but when he did open them, I could swear he was gazing directly at me.

Looking back on that night, I can’t be sure how long we’d sat there before I fixated on my drummer boy. The music, which at first grated on my senses as way too loud and completely discordant, gradually began to permeate my brain. Before long, my bare toes started tapping against the carpeted floor. I freed one hand from my cup of wine to pat my thigh in time with the music. When my head began to bob, almost of its own accord, I smiled.

Ah, now I know why they call progressive metal fans head bangers.

 

We were climbing into my brother’s SUV, Paul at the wheel with Jeri and Jay next to him in the front. I sat squashed between my husband and son in the back.

“So, what did you guys do for all that time?” Ryan asked.

“We saw Dreamwish,” Paul piped up from the front, sounding as though his statement actually made sense.

“You saw our concert? You guys?” Jay sputtered through his laughter.

I opened my eyes to find my son staring at me in much the same way Jeri had been earlier.

“How’d you like it, Mom?” Ryan asked in a slight singsong of ridicule, which I chose to ignore.

I hesitated, clearing my throat. “The music is . . . different,” I said.

I caught my brother watching me in the rearview mirror. He was wearing an impish grin. “It’s true, Ryan,” he said. “For a while there, we were afraid your mother might run off with one of the roadies.”

“To hell with the roadies,” I snapped. “If I run off, it will definitely be with the yummy drummer.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2bIMkHJ

 

clairegem

 

Author Biography:

Claire writes intensely emotional romantic novels. Her vision is to transport her readers into another place and time, creating characters so real, readers miss them when they reach The End. Her heroes are hot, & her heroines strong and brave: a combination producing the spark to fan the flames of your most intense romantic fantasies. Claire’s characters are human, just like you & me. They make mistakes, they get clumsy sometimes, & they’re not too proud to laugh at themselves & each other.

 

The keyword here is EMOTION. Big on the Sigh factor, Claire’s stories aim to hit you straight in the heart and leave you smiling through happy tears.

 

She writes in two genres: romance w/a ghostly twist, and sexy contemporary. Claire’s books are like a thrill ride at a theme park. Whether it’s spooky-scary, angst-ridden relationships filled with gut-wrenching turmoil, silly chuckle moments, or hot-flash-inducing sex, Claire guarantees to take you on an emotionally intense romantic journey.

 

Social Media Links:

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Amazon Author Page

Pinterest

 

Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13) by @irishwinters1 #MilitaryRomance #Romance


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Title: Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13)

Author: Irish Winters

Genre: Military Suspense Romance

Publisher: Windy Days Press

 

Book Blurb:

TEAM Agent Ky Winchester survived a brutal encounter with a Taliban madman only because of a woman with green eyes, an angel he thought he’d dreamed in the depths of torment. She came to him in that far off torture chamber, cloaked in the tender magic of hope, and because of her, he was willing to believe he might survive his nightmare. It’s too bad he never thought to ask her name. Too bad he’ll spend the rest of his days searching for her.

Whoever she is…

FBI Agent Eden Stark is the Bureau’s number one and very top-secret psychic asset. While running from a different kind of madman, this one intent on mechanizing America’s military, turning them into controllable drones, Eden’s plane goes down in the frigid Canadian north. It’s very probable she won’t survive the night. Two meched-up FBI agents are already tracking her. Maybe wolves.

Maybe someone else…

 

More about the In the Company of Snipers series from the Author:

This series revolves around ex-Marine scout sniper, Alex Stewart, and his covert surveillance company, The TEAM, home-based out of Alexandria, Virginia. An obsessive patriot and workaholic, he created the company to give ex-military snipers like him a chance at returning to civilian life, a chance at normal, with a decent job.

 

This is not a serial with each book ending at a cliffhanger. I wouldn’t do that to you. I hate cliffhangers! In the Company of Snipers is a collection of passionate love stories involving strong men and women who are tough enough to take on the world alone. Each is a stand-alone read, complete in itself.

 

Spoiler alert: Every story contains adult scenes including sexual situations (some explicit), language, and violence. I don’t write sweet romance, so be forewarned.

 

Book 1, ALEX, reveals how The TEAM came to be, as well as how Alex met Kelsey, how they fell in love and fought all odds to stay together. Each of the following books is a complete romance in itself where, in the course of an active TEAM operation, one agent comes face to face with his or her demons. The men and women I write about are all patriots and warriors, dealing with what they’ve lived through or the mistakes they’ve made.

 

It’s my hope that you’ll come to realize, along with my heroes, that Love Changes Everything…

 

Excerpt:

The cold solved her perspiration problem. She shivered, but didn’t stop struggling with each step.

 

Still pulling. Still—argh. My arms are killing me. “I. Can. Do. This!”

 

Her voice sounded shrill and slightly hysterical in the whisper of the quiet pines. So be it. She’d been slightly hysterical before. Certain times required hysteria, maybe dementia. Maybe even outright crazy, the way this day had gone. Surely the day you fell out of the sky demanded a scream at all the crazy gods who let it happen, right?

 

But screaming would only burn energy she couldn’t afford to waste, and she knew better. Besides, it reminded her of the day her father had left. Make that, deserted. She’d screamed plenty when that happened, her heart torn out of her at Drake Franklin’s ultimate betrayal to his child. What good had  screaming, ‘Daddy. Don’t go. Daddy, please. Don’t leave me!’ done?

 

Nothing. Drake Franklin hadn’t even looked back—just said he’d had enough of all the bullshit and walked out of her life. Left Casey Franklin and her seven-year-old daughter, Eden, without a car or a dollar to their names.

 

Eden grew up fast, believing every word her mother taught her. Who wouldn’t believe the woman who worked her heart out to support her child? The wise woman who taught her: Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Never give up. Work your heart out and your heart will steer you true. Stuff like: I do believe. I do believe. I do. I do. I do.

 

Young Eden became a positive-thinker out of necessity—a glass is half-full kind of a girl. She believed in the inherent goodness of people. It worked until the day an illegal immigrant had broadsided her mother’s rattletrap of a twenty-year-old Honda Prelude in rush-hour traffic in the middle of Podunk Boise, Idaho, and left her dead at the scene. How a guy with no insurance and no driver’s license got released from jail on his own recognizance in time to flee south of the border made no sense to a fifteen-year-old girl without a friend or a relative in the world.

 

One of her mother’s girlfriends took her in. Eden legally rejected her father when he didn’t step forward to claim her. She assumed her mother’s maiden name, Stark. Life went on.

 

But nothing had hurt as bad as standing alone at Casey’s grave telling her mother goodbye for the last time. Unless you factored in Eden’s dumb-butt, seventeen-year-old boyfriend, Stan’s, betrayal with that hooker waitress at Denny’s the day after the funeral. Stan claimed he only hooked up with her because he was lonely. The ass didn’t have a clue what lonely was. The one day that Eden could’ve used a real friend, all she got was another rude awakening. Guys lie. Guys cheat. Guys only think about themselves and that puny, little thing dangling between their legs.

 

“I sure know how to pick ’em,” she told the bundle sliding quietly along behind her.

 

Night threatened in black and blue shadows at the edge of the sky she could no longer see. Too many tall, bushy trees obstructed her view. Pines, every last one of them. She used to love the lacy, elegant Noble pines when decorated with snow and glistening icicles the way these were. Pines always reminded her of tinsel and Christmas, one of the few good holidays left in the world. Not anymore. These Nutcracker Suite bad boys just might be the death of her, which could be a good thing in the long run. Freezing to death seemed a better way to go than a double tap to the cranium, her brains spilled out for the wildlife to sample. An Eden buffet. Hmmm.

 

She blew out a deep breath of frosty air and staggered on. Even gliding over snow-covered ground, her load was a heavy one. Ten feet to go. Then five. Then I can rest and maybe this

headache will stop.

 

At last Eden dropped to her knees, sure she’d done the best she could. This was the only bare patch of earth within dragging distance, sheltered beneath the fan-like branches of a densely packed stand of evergreens. It almost seemed serene, this spot. Serene and surreal. A little reverent. Sacred even. But mostly— diggable, if that was even a word.

 

Yes. It would do. A single shaft of the weak winter sunlight fell across her snow-dusted boots. A brave little bird flitted in the chilly branches overhead, but it didn’t sing. Didn’t even chirp. What the heck did birds have to sing about in the frozen north?

 

She took a moment to catch her breath, but ended the break before her limbs had the chance to seize from exhaustion or her backside from the cold. This next chore would be harder. She still had to bury the body.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ky-Company-Snipers-Book-13-ebook/dp/B01JQ4ST5S
irish-winters

 

Author Biography:

Irish Winters is an award-winning author who dabbles in poetry, grandchildren, and rarely (as in extremely rarely) the kitchen. More prone to be outdoors than in, she grew up the quintessential tomboy on a farm in rural Wisconsin, spent her teenage years in the Pacific Northwest, but calls the Wasatch Mountains of Northern Utah home. For now.

The wife of one handsome husband and the mother of three perfect sons, Irish divides her time between writing at home and travelling the country with her man while – writing. (Seriously, what else?)

She believes in making every day count for something and follows the wise admonition of her mother to, “Look out the window and see something!”

To learn more about Irish and her books, please visit www.IrishWinters.com .

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.irishwinters.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/IrishWintersAuthor?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/irishwinters1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7500339.Irish_Winters

Blog: http://irishwinters.blogspot.com/

Newsletter Sign-Up (also on Blog sidebar): http://irishwinters.us10.list-manage.com/subscribe/post?u=436858228bbc9d7fb4feaea3c&id=838318d2fe

 

Storm Crazy Bonus Edition (Books 1&2) by @LiviaQuinn #ASMSG #IARTG #TuesdayBookBlog


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Title:       Storm Crazy Bonus Edition (Storm Crazy and Cry Me a River)(Books 1&2)

Author:    Livia Quinn

Genre:      Southern Paranormal Cozy Mystery

Publisher:  Campbell Hill Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

Welcome to Destiny, or I should say Middle Earth…

 

Jack Lang, sheriff, ex-Navy pilot. To say Destiny was not what I expected would be like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure. I’d been looking for Mayberry, a quaint little safe town to raise my daughter. Not That ship sailed when I met Tempest Pomeroy, who turned out to be a storm witch with a djinni brother and an ex who was… hell, I don’t know what he is. But I wasn’t sure I could stay. I had a teenage daughter to consider.

 

Tempe Pomeroy, Tempestaerie, mail lady, and as Jack likes to say, trouble magnet.  Isn’t it just like a man to exit a relationship when he finds out a woman’s got a few little secrets? Jack’s finally investigating my little brother’s disappearance but time is running out and our relationship’s gone from attraction to suspicion, support to friendship, romance to oh-my-god-get-away-from-me revulsion.

 

Jack’s an ex-Navy pilot. He says he wants to know “everything”. He may stick around, help me save my brother and discover the whereabouts of my parents, but I doubt he’ll still want to take me to the Mardi Gras ball, once he knows “everything”. He’ll probably take the first jet out of Middle Earth…there’s a lot of everything

 

Sign up for my newsletter here and get this bonus set free or an alternate.

 

Excerpt:

The chatter around us quieted suddenly. Montana and Jack looked over my shoulder.

Montana hissed behind me, a sound I’d never heard from her. “Mother of all the gods! Who is that?”

We turned as the elder at the door called out, “Conor de Sept-Flambe, Knight of his Majesty’s realm.”

Jack stiffened and muttered, “Which Majesty?”

“What realm?” I wondered aloud.

“Where’d he get those damn swords?” breathed Montana behind me. Leave it to a warrior goddess to appreciate and hone in on the most obvious feature of the newcomer’s costume.

The—it seemed lacking somehow to call him a man though he appeared to be, but I could see why both of them had reacted to the stranger.

He wore a beautiful black and red mask, which was slightly reptilian in design, strapped around his shoulder length black hair. He was shirtless and radiated danger with intricate red and black tattoos that resembled bat wings across his shoulders and triceps. He didn’t need a costume t-shirt with abs painted on it. The ridges of his torso indicated strength and discipline. Matching leather strips banded his bulging biceps and matched the jagged hemmed samurai pants floating about his muscular calves.

“Looks like someone left their video game on too long,” said Jack.

The Knight Flambe did indeed look like he’d walked straight from the Martial Arts/Samurai Assassin video game into the Grand Ball. His boots were exquisitely tooled silver and bronze, with a belt of the same metals, which glimmered flat against his lower abdomen. When he turned to hand his invitation to the elder there was a collective murmur and Jack made a low guttural sound.

Two long deadly looking gold and silver swords crisscrossed his back and seemed to shoot fire with each movement down their jagged twisting length. As he listened to the announcement, the knight’s hands, girded at the wrist in pewter, bronze and gold to the elbows, fisted and relaxed, making the tendons flex from elbow to chest. Whew!

Montana stood like a statue of a Valkyrie, her hands clenching and unclenching, piercing cobalt eyes locked on the figure dressed in precious metals, leather and a lot of bronzed skin. Menori reacted restlessly to the dark knight.

So did Jack. It was as if they were meeting as equals on some arena of war—not as I’d described him and Dylan—like dogs fighting over their Poodle. This was something elemental, as if they knew each other at their core. It lasted mere seconds but it was as if time during those few seconds amplified, expanded to push away all other sounds and only those of us who saw, felt, and understood, well, I didn’t understand except to know that something of impetus had passed between them.

Party sounds filtered in again from the other room and the Knight Flambe’ took three deliberate steps off the platform, glancing toward Montana and away. His sharp predatory gaze met each attendee briefly, making each person acknowledge his presence, like he was studying them one by one and simultaneously erasing himself from their minds. I shook my head. We’d had our share of supernaturals, but this powerful looking ‘soldier’, a sexy sword-wielding samurai warrior… it was a first.

The newcomer bowed and walked deliberately through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea for the Israelites, to give him and his swords an unencumbered path to the bar. Montana devoured him with her eyes. She had not moved since he walked in the door. Interesting.

“Reckon that’s a costume? Or is he some kind of knight in shining armor?” I asked.

Jack said, “He doesn’t seem the type.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://amzn.to/2d1gmDk

Amazon UK http://amzn.to/2cVdMC3

Nook http://bit.ly/2dgYzh1

Ibook    http://apple.co/2cIdfAL

Kobo    http://bit.ly/2cqoi0n

Inkterra Page Foundry  http://bit.ly/2cWoCb6

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Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Love happens…when you least expect it. So does the weather. So magic in one form or another, and storms, are at the heart of most Livia Quinn books. A DC native who lives on the bayou in Louisiana, Livia has stored up a wealth of quirky stories from her jobs as a mail lady, sales person, plant manager and small business owner that she’s anxious to share with her readers.

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: liviaquinnwrites.blogspot.com

 

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com

 

Website: http://liviaquinn.com

 

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/liviaquinnwrites

 

Twitter    http://twitter.com/liviaquinn

 

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn

 

Goodreads http://bit.ly/22VXuev

 

Livia’s Amazon Author Central http://amzn.to/1T5qmhN

 

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LiviaQuinn

 

Linkedin http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

 

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

 

Independent Author Network http://bit.ly/2dlAr8L

 

Shopping for an Heir by Julia Kent @jkentauthor #Romance #EntertoWin #BookBoost


Shopping for an Heir
Julia Kent
(Shopping for a Billionaire #10)
Publication date: September 20th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance

Gerald Wright works for billionaires. He never imagined he’d become one.

The former Navy Seal is a chauffeur by day, artist by night, so when hotter-than-ever ex-fiancée Suzanne Dayton interrupts his nude model sculpting class to serve him with inheritance paperwork from a man he’s never heard of, he assumes it’s a joke.

Turns out the joke’s on him. There’s just one catch. A big one.

And it might be Suzanne — in more ways than he ever dreamed.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

gerald

SNEAK PEEK:

He smelled like home. Like love. Like promise and comfort, like passion and disbelief.

“What’s wrong?” he snapped, his face alternating between joy and anger. “Why are you here?”

Coming to her senses, she extracted the thick envelope from her brief bag, looking him square in the eye. “Legal matter. I’ve been instructed to deliver this to you.” She used remarkable restraint in not peering around Gerald to get more of an eyeful of Declan McCormick’s stately form.

Then again, Gerald was an impenetrable wall of muscle himself, not easily subverted. She’d need taller heels to peer around him. He did not move his palm from her arm, and his touch infused her, a deeply satisfying sense of connection slowly creeping along her skin, her breath quickening, his touch ringing bells inside her that had been dormant for a decade.

“What is it?”

“Read it. You’ll understand.” She turned on her heel and started to leave, shaking inside so hard she might trigger the New Madrid fault.

He glared at her. “What? That’s it? Ten years and that’s it?” He pulled back, breaking contact.

All her anxiety faded, like an antidote injected straight into the heart, his words kicking in, providing such clarity.

“Ten years you chose, Gerald,” she hissed, mouth curling, throat seizing. “You do not get to put this on me.” Grief flared in her, a burst like a fireball, and then it turned to the ash of anger, a light coat settling over every spare surface of her heart.

His eyebrows shot up, eyes gliding away, his nose twitching and mouth tightening as if holding back.

Squaring her shoulders, Suzanne decided to make this easy for him. God only knew why. “My law firm is handling the estate of deceased billionaire Harold Hopewell. You’ve been named in his will.” She tapped the thick envelope in his hand. “These papers explain everything.”

“Explain what?”

“You’re his heir. One of them, at least.”

 

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Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

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“Original Storyline” – A Sibling in Always by Ernest Gordon Taulbee #IARTG #fiction @gordtaul


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Title: A Sibling in Always

Author: Ernest Gordon Taulbee

Genre: Literary Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

When a severely deformed corpse lands on his embalming table, skilled mortician, Horace Carver is forced to confront his apathy towards life and the dark secrets hidden within himself, his family, and his hometown of Always, Indiana.

This engaging novel finds a depth that is often missing in many of today’s books. Laden with literary devices and allusions, including themes borrowed from ancient mythology, this book immerses itself into the broadened and modernizing Mid-Western culture of the late 1970’s to 2008, highlighting the prose with delicate harmonic overtones of the Near South.

The prose has the classic sensibilities with the poetic nuances and timing. It also uses tightly metered poetry that often serves as the reader’s guide while experiencing the novel.

 

Excerpt:

What am I to make of you?

The one to whom I will speak

The nature of your design

I am beside of myself

I ask, do you have a name?

Tell me how you want to look

This chance is perfect for me.

 

It is perfect for you too.

We must have a way to go.

How shall we proceed, my friend?

What will I turn you into?

Someone is hiding in there.

I want to know your true name.

These years you waited to die.

 

Could there have been anything,

Only madness in the dark.

Darkness is in this light too,

And there are things you may lose.

 

Did you ever hold something?

You have ever felt possessed,

Since those who are never do.

(Madness is on this side too.)

 

I keep saying it is not routine. Dying that is. But neither is living in most cases. People have such a thing as an average life. There is a median income for American families. People have two kids on average. They buy cars and go to movies. They get their teeth pulled when they get old and they buy their grandkids Christmas presents. I know all this. I have seen the family pictures adorning the funeral home. Plucked from mantels and tables from around homes and placed around the coffin in the viewing room. Smiling faces. Cooked turkeys and full bellies. Happy people. I have never had that life, but I know it to be real. I see it time and time again throughout the years. A couple funerals a week: that is what we average. More than enough to keep the home afloat.

 

My uncle doesn’t live at the funeral home like I do — me in an efficiency apartment in the back of the home. Now our new employee is living in the apartment above the garage. I don’t know if he is paying rent or if it was just something he and Seth agreed to, that way Seth could pay him less money. I have no idea. I don’t get into the business. I know my skill and I do it well. I like the challenge of it sometimes. But as violent and dismembering as it is, I am rarely shocked at what I see. I know that people die in violent ways, and that is where I make my mark. It eases people to see the violence removed.

 

But no violence tonight. None.

 

Sometimes I like to think my uncle and I have come to a place of forced mutual respect. We have never operated on a familial level. It is a façade and it took until I was at least thirty to develop, but it is in place now. It is necessary for us to work together as we do. One of the points is we respect each other’s privacy. I never invite him into my home. He does not invite me to his, though I have seen if from the outside; a few miles from the funeral home. Not flashy, but elaborate. He makes the money in the place. He has been married for years, but I have only met his wife a few times. She doesn’t consider me family.

 

Nonetheless, we respect our mutual privacy. That is our way now. I began living in my apartment when I was young, almost immediately after my mother was committed (we stayed in the apartment above the garage when we lived together). In my twenties it was nothing for Seth to barge in unannounced and uninvited as if he owned the place. In actuality he did own the place, but it was mine in my head. We fought and argued. I threatened to quit the business dozens of times. Now I have my privacy, but tonight my uncle broke it.

 

I had never bothered to have the locks changed, so the key that sat unused on his chain still worked after years of idleness. I was in a deep sleep when he entered, so I did not hear him come into my apartment. He came into my small bedroom, and he turned on the lights.
“Horace, wake up! I need you!” he says loudly, but not yelling.

 

I sprang to my feet: scared and disoriented.

 

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

 

“I need your help,” he says.

 

“Get the f**k out!” I demand, but he doesn’t move. That is odd for me. I rarely use profanity. I did when I was younger, but I accidentally used foul language in front of a customer, and Seth berated me for it. Since then, I have removed it from my language, only letting it out in moments of intense frustration, like now, with my uncle standing in my room unannounced in the middle of the night.

 

“It’s business, Horace, get dressed. We have to go to a house on Ingersoll Street. It’s urgent.”

 

“What happened?” I ask.

 

“There has been a death,” he answers.

 

“What’s urgent about that?”

 

“The benefactor. The one from the other day with the old man. He has a death in the family and he called me to say it is urgent. He said for me attend to it, and he said to bring you.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“I have no idea, Horace. I don’t even know how he is aware you exist. Now get dressed and meet me at the hearse.”

 

“Should I get Mason to drive us?”

 

“The man didn’t ask me to bring Mason, he asked me to bring you. You’re wasting time. Get dressed and meet me at the car. Five minutes.”

 

With that, he leaves and I go to my closet. This may be my first middle-of-the-night call, but I know jeans and t-shirt won’t be the appropriate attire. Thankfully, my time spent in the business has afforded me the ability to collect some black suits. I hurriedly dress and make my way to the hearse, still adjusting my tie as I approach.

 

 

Buy Links:

https://www.amazon.com/Sibling-Always-Taulbee-Ernest-Gordon-ebook/dp/B01J1LG8T0

 

gordon-taulbee

 

Author Biography:

Ernest Gordon Taulbee grew up in a small town in Eastern Kentucky called Salyersville. He received both a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree from Eastern Kentucky University. Upon completing his MA he moved to Louisville — where he has lived most of his adult life.

Love of reading and writing has been a theme in his life. Through the decade and a half since he finished his MA, Mr. Taulbee has worked a variety of jobs, from populating a cubicle in a large corporation to making and selling mead. Throughout his whole life, writing has remained his singular professional and artistic passion.

He enjoys writing that is both entertaining as well as writing that borders on high art.

The thesis for his MA was the first 100 pages of a novel. He would complete that novel in the months after finishing his graduate degree. After additional months spent proofreading and editing, he submitted the manuscript to small publishing houses and select agents who considered literary fiction. The stacks of rejections letters became less painful, when he received an email from a small, art house, stating they would like to publish this novel. That joy was squashed about a month or so later, when the publishing company informed him an unexpected financial situation would cause the publishing house to close.

He would continue to write short stories and outline for longer works over the next few years, until he was struck with the idea for what would become his novel, A Sibling in Always, while waiting for the bus.

Once the manuscript was complete, he continued to write prose and to submit the novel for consideration by small houses and publications.

After a year and a half, he decided to join the do-it-yourself culture that had influenced much of the books, music, and art he had come to admire.
He believes that art, including fiction, is a vital part of society, so — if you are not going to produce it — appreciate it and try to improve it.

He currently (as was stated previously) lives in Louisville, Kentucky with his wife, Tina, and their two daughter.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ernestgordontaulbee/

Twitter https://twitter.com/gordtaul

IAN http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/ernest-gordon-taulbee.html

 

#FridayReads – Arabian Nights and Arabian Night by @AuthorClive Johnson #bookreview #shortstories


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Title: Arabian Nights & Arabian Nights: Traditional Tales from a Thousand and One Nights, Contemporary Tales for Adults

Author: Clive Johnson

Genre: Classic Literature, Reimagined Literature, Short Stories

 

Book Blurb:

Magic carpets and flying horses, caverns glittering with gold, unexpected plotlines following the fortunes of heroes and villains – who can fail to be enthralled by the magic and wonder of the tales of the One Thousand and One Nights?

 

This most celebrated collections of tales feature shape-shifting and miraculous transportation across continents, powerful jinn who rise like smoke from simple vessels, dreams that delve into the secrets of the subconscious, and gigantic, man-carrying birds.

 

The backdrop for the tales moves from barren deserts to spectacular cities, from the edge of the world to the inner sanctuaries of mighty rulers. Kings and paupers, benevolent sages and devious magicians, worthy princesses and unscrupulous harlots – all play their part in teaching important truths and providing lively entertainment.

 

This innovative book offers retellings of a selection of tales that have captured the imaginations of countless people over many centuries. Accompanying each is a contemporary short story that reframes the messages and teachings of the original, specifically written for an adult audience.

 

Here are stories of betrayal and murder, exploitation and sibling rivalry, soul-searching and discovery. The modern parallel tales swap the busy alleyways of old Baghdad for the horror of Saddam’s prisons, move from following caravans sweeping across the Sahara to modern day pilgrims trekking along the Caminos of northern Spain, and lift Aladdin out of his cave to unwittingly face Triad gangsters and antiques smugglers.

 

Wayward Baptist ministers, adulterous accountants, and eco-warrior backpackers follow in the footsteps of the no-less colourful characters than those that feature in the original tales.

 

Each pair of stories is accompanied by a commentary on how they might be interpreted. The result is a gripping collection of tales that may continue to bring the mystery and magic of the Nights to life, as well as provoking fresh thought and feeling for adult readers. Prepare to be surprised, uplifted and – in the spirit of the original Arabian Nights Entertainments -enthralled.

 

sinbada

 

My Review:

I remember reading Aladdin and Ali Baba when I was young, imagining I had a magic carpet and could fly all over the world. Now, Clive Johnson has breathed new life into these fantastic stories with his collection of modern-day stories. From Aladdin to Scheherazade to even Sinbad the Sailor, these classical tales are paired with a modern retelling along with detailed analysis and insight.

 

It’s clear that Johnson is a scholar and has studied these tales. His passion for these stories, as well as the modern retellings, comes through clearly and it drew me in. Seven stories featuring everyday people dealing with astonishing circumstances.

 

If you loved reading about Sinbad the Sailor or Aladdin as a kid, you’ll love these retellings as an adult. A great way to escape for a few hours and a must read!

 

My Rating:  4 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Arabian-Nights-Traditional-thousand-Contemporary-ebook/dp/B01LFX8VCO

 

Barnes and Noble Paperback http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/arabian-nights-arabian-nights-clive-johnson/1124459549?ean=9780993202964

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31688975-arabian-nights-arabian-nights

 

clive-johnson

 

Author Biography:

Clive is an interfaith minister, having a particular interest in mysticism and mythology. He is a follower of the perennial tradition, or the belief that at their heart, all of the world’s great religions speak about the same principles for living and connecting with God.

 

Before training for ministry, he spent several years working in management consultancy, and latterly as a specialist in conflict management. His earlier career was in project management and IT. He has worked for clients in many parts of the world and across a wide range of industries and is a qualified coach.

 

He is an itinerant with no fixed home and says that he is happiest when riding a horse on the Sussex South Downs or roaming in some remote part of the world. A self-confessed beginner in most things, he nonetheless likes to try his hand at just about anything – everything from Bollywood dancing to driving Arctic lorries.

 

Social Media Links:

Publisher Website http://www.labyrinthepublishers.com/arabiannights.html

Website http://www.interfaithministry.co.uk/

Blog http://www.labyrinthepublishers.com/blog/

Twitter https://twitter.com/AuthorClive

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

Out of His League by Best-Selling Author @ChantaRand #Romance #RomanticComedy #giveaway


out-of-his-league

 

Title: Out of His League
Author: Chanta Rand
Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy
Publisher: Chanta Rand Books

 

Book Blurb:

Growing up, Ace Dalton had dreams of playing in the NFL. Today, he’s a wide receiver for the California Predators. With a multi-million dollar salary and a playboy reputation, he can have any woman he wants—except Sylvia McMasters. Everybody tells him she’s out of his league, but twelve years ago, they shared an erotic encounter that he’s never been able to forget.

Recently widowed, Sylvia McMasters spends her days raising money for her philanthropic efforts. Her late husband left her with wealth, connections, and an empty bed. When she sees Ace at a charity event, she realizes the attraction she felt for him over a decade ago burns even hotter than ever. The problem is he’s a womanizer who can’t be trusted. She’s not trying to be another notch on his belt.

When Ace offers Sylvia a staggering donation in exchange for one night with her, she sees the chance to get the money her charity so desperately needs. She agrees, telling herself it’s for a good cause. Can Ace convince her he’s that good cause? Or will she continue to think she’s out of his league?

 

Excerpt:

Sylvie made her way into the kitchen, where the aroma of food lured her like Hansel and Gretel. She zeroed in a mountain of ribs stacked high on a silver platter resting on the soapstone counter top. Yum. She’d attended too many stuffy charity events lately where caviar was a staple on the menu.  She just couldn’t resist some good old-fashioned hog. She grabbed a Styrofoam plate, loaded it up, and plopped onto a bar stool perched at the counter.

That was where Ace found her moments later—happily munching on spare ribs that practically fell off the bone.

“Mmm, can I get some of those,” he teased.

“There’s more over there,” she motioned toward the platter.

“I don’t want a lot, just a sample.”

The tone of his voice indicated he wasn’t referring to the food.

She grinned as he sidled up to her. Charmingly predictable. There must be some rule about eating ribs with a bare chested hunk in the host’s kitchen. She licked the thick flavorful sauce from her fingers. “Too bad,” she taunted. “You’ll have to find your own sample.”

Quicker than she could blink, Ace closed in on her and grasped her wrists. She watched, mesmerized as he licked the barbeque sauce from her fingers. His mouth was hot. His tongue, nothing short of talented.

Sparks of desire blasted through her. If this was the foreplay, she had to admit, she was damned ready to taste the main course. As Ace sucked and nibbled, heat pooled between her legs. Jeez, she would never eat ribs again without thinking of this moment.

A throat cleared in the background. “You know we have hand soap for that.”

Sylvie’s head whipped around to see an older woman walking toward the stainless steel Sub Zero refrigerator. Oh, God! Tyrek’s mom. How embarrassing.

“Uh, Mrs. Powers, we’re just…”

“Um hmm. I know what y’all were just…doing,” the shrewd matriarch admonished. “You and your boyfriend need to go find a room.”

Ace grinned. Sylvie wriggled free and shoved at his chest, not caring if she got remnants of the sticky sauce on his firm pecs.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, really?” Mrs. Powers opened a drawer on the fridge and lifted a tray of pre-prepared shish-ka-bobs out. “So, he’s just a one night stand, huh?”

Sylvie’s jaw dropped. She was so shocked she couldn’t say anything. The woman had no idea of how close she’d come to the truth.

Ace drawled. “I’m not a one-night stand, yet ma’am. But I have high hopes.”

 

 

Giveaway:

My sexy novella, RUINED, features a fifty-something hero and a sassy, plus-sized heroine. For a chance to win a free eBook of this erotic short, answer the following question:

 

As you look back on your life, what was your favorite age and why?

 

Names of commenters will be entered into a drawing and a winner will be chosen at random. Good luck!

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: amzn.to/2axEVGT

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/656578

 

chanta-rand-pic

 

Author Biography:

Chanta Jefferson Rand is an Emma Award-Winning Debut Author of the Year, a multi-published, best-selling author of sizzling-hot romance, and the former host of The Chanta Rand Show. An avid reader of all genres, she stepped onto the scene in 2010 with her first published historical romance, Pharaoh’s Desire.

In 2016, she was appointed Chair of the Diversity Committee for Romance Writers of America (RWA) with the mission of increasing the awareness of diversity in romance.

The author of over twenty-five novels, Chanta is a history junkie, a Walking Dead fan, and a recovering shoe addict. She never met a stiletto she didn’t like! If you still want more, check her out at http://www.ChantaRand.com or email her at Chanta@chantarand.com.

To sign up for Chanta’s newsletter and get free swag and updates about her work, copy and paste this into your browser: http://www.chantarand.com/contact.html

 

Social Media Links:

Amazon Author Page

Website

Blog

GoodReads

 

 

First and Again by @JanaRichards_ #romance #giveaway #MFRWAuthor


first-and-again-by-jana-richards

 

Title:  First and Again

Author: Jana Richards

Genre: Contemporary romance, small town romance

Publisher:  Carina Press

 

Book Blurb:

Bridget Grant is back in Paradise. Paradise, North Dakota, that is.

 

She’s swallowed her pride and moved back to her hometown with her daughter after her divorce and the loss of her catering company. Now she’s trying to navigate the strained relationships she’d left behind – including her first love, Jack Davison.

 

Jack never forgot Bridget, or the day she left town – and him. When Bridget caters a lunch at Jack’s tourist ranch, old flames reignite. They have more in common than ever – Jack’s also a single parent. Though they both try to keep things casual, Bridget, Jack and their girls are starting to look a lot like a family.

 

But Bridget’s only planning to stay in Paradise until she’s saved enough to relaunch her business. Jack’s invested too much in his ranch to leave. And with their daughters involved both have a lot more at stake than heartbreak. How can they risk falling in love?

 

Excerpt:

She climbed into the cab, slammed the door shut, then buckled her seat belt. She smoothed the apron over her lap, suddenly feeling stupid and regretting her decision to accept the ride. Jack probably thought she was crazy, or at best, unbalanced. There was no way she could explain the fear that had controlled her life the last two years.

 

“I have a punching bag,” he said, his eyes on the road ahead.

“Excuse me?” she said, confused. Had she missed part of this conversation?

“When I can’t get things or people to do what I want them to do, or when I’m just plain pissed off, I go down into my basement and beat the hell out of Bozo the Clown.”

 

She stared at his profile. “Bozo the Clown?”

“I have an old Bozo punching bag, you know, one of those toys that’s weighted on the bottom so it keeps popping back up. Bozo takes a licking and keeps coming back for more.”

 

“Oh, I see,” she said cautiously.

He turned and flashed a dazzling smile. “No, I’m not crazy. At least no crazier than you. Everybody needs some way of getting out their frustrations or they’ll eat you alive. Mine happens to be beating the crap out of Bozo, and I suspect that yours is walking briskly down country roads.”

 

She relaxed against the seat. “Maybe.”

“Next time lose the apron. You can’t pretend you’re a serious jogger if you’re wearing a frilly pink apron.”

 

“No, I suppose not.” She grinned, the weight of embarrassment lifting from her shoulders. Jack’s quirky sense of humor had always intrigued and delighted her. “Next time I feel the urge to take a hike I’ll throw on some jogging pants and tell everyone I’m training for a marathon. That ought to stop the gossiping.”

 

“Sorry to disillusion you, but nothing’s likely to do that. Gossip and Paradise go together like peanut butter and jam. Most of the time it’s harmless, but if you’re smart you’ll try not to draw too much attention to yourself.”

 

“Trust me, that’s the last thing I want to do.” She untied the apron and pulled it over her head. “Doesn’t it ever get to you? The life in the fishbowl? Are you and your wife happy living in Paradise?”

 

He glanced at her, and she saw a momentary look of surprise in his expression before he turned his attention back to his driving.

 

“I’m happy enough. The fishbowl thing doesn’t bother me.”

“That’s good.”

“But if you’re going to live in a small town, you’d better get up to date on your gossip. I’ve been single the last ten years.”

 

The news took her by surprise. Was he single because of divorce or because his wife had died? “Oh, I’m sorry. Celia didn’t tell me.” She wondered why her sister hadn’t filled her in after all this time.

 

Jack shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

He offered no further information and she decided not to ask any more questions. After all, she barely knew him anymore.

 

Giveaway:

Enter to win a paperback copy of one of Jana Richards books via Rafflecopter

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Buy Links:

Carina Press

http://ebooks.carinapress.com/30C3F080-3723-4D39-89A7-2832A7AE98B7/10/134/en/ContentDetails.htm?ID={298B634E-091A-4BEB-B511-FD7E9F903C57}&om_rid=NspONf&om_mid=_BSUrdcB81iD2Yx#z

Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/First-and-Again-ebook/dp/B00E1UY6GE

All Romance Ebooks

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-firstandagain-1291205-149.html

Barnes and Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/first-and-again-jana-richards/1116133465?ean=9781426896439

Kobo

http://store.kobobooks.com/en-CA/ebook/first-and-again

Sony Store

https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/jana-richards/first-and-again/_/R-400000000000001111234

ITunes

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/first-and-again/id703161039?mt=11

Chapters/Indigo

http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/books/first-and-again/9781426896439-item.html?ikwid=Jana+Richards&ikwsec=Home

Audible (audio book)

http://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/First-and-Again-Audiobook/B00FSSMJC6/ref=a_search_c4_1_2_srTtl?qid=1385394570&sr=1-2

Google Play

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jana_Richards_First_and_Again?id=fSkeAAAAQBAJ

 

Jana Richards

 

Author Biography:

When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada with their Pug/Terrier cross Lou and several unnamed goldfish. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

 

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://www.janarichards.com

Blog:  http://janarichards.blogspot.com

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/JanaRichardsAuthor

Twitter:  http://www.twitter.com/JanaRichards_

Amazon Author Page:  http://www.amazon.com/author/janarichards

Amazon UK Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B002DEVWWG

Newsletter Signup: http://www.eepurl.com/m3UnT

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2892274Jana_Richards

Google+ Profile:  https://plus.google.com/100820406211390323245

 

Anything You Ask of Me by @Heather_Curley Transports You #books #NA #historicalfiction


Anything You Ask Of Me
Heather Curley
Publication date: July 31st 2016
Genres: Historical, New Adult

Although her home state of Maryland hasn’t sworn allegiance to either Union or Confederacy, twenty-two-year-old Elizabeth Archer’s life is shattered. Her father has fled North, abandoning the household. The man she loved—and who married her sister instead— is killed in battle. Elizabeth’s life of parties and societal obligations dwindles down to isolation and too many empty hours; hours to mourn the man who gave her up to chase an inheritance.

She meets Confederate general Jeb Stuart by chance and, in an instant, she’s the center of his attention.

As commander of the Army of Northern Virginia’s cavalry division, General Stuart doesn’t ask, he orders. The attraction seems mutual and, flattered by his affection, Elizabeth agrees to spy for the Confederacy. She’s Stuart’s La Belle Rebelle, the Beautiful Rebel; the siren of the south. She’s notorious in the Union and lauded in the Confederacy. And she’s falling in love with him.

Notoriety, however, is a spy’s worst enemy. Now pursued by a Federal officer tasked to stop her at any cost, Elizabeth faces the sentence of hanging if she’s convicted of treason against the Union. Devoted to a cause she doesn’t believe in and with Federal blood on her hands, Elizabeth must save herself—or die a traitor.

Time is running out. And no one, not even La Belle Rebelle, can outrun the war.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

He stood alone in the parlor, examining a horrendous portrait of her mother that Sarah insisted be left above the fireplace. Hat hooked over his first two fingers, he tapped it against his leg with a certain sense of idleness common in someone tired of waiting.

“It is not a decent likeness of my mother.” She tilted her head toward the portrait. “Maybe in the eyes, but the artist was paid far greater than his ability deserved.”

“It does me well to see you again, Miss Archer.” He smiled and bowed slightly.

“It is a pleasure to be in your company again, General Stuart.” He wasn’t much taller than she, enough that she had to tilt her chin up to look him in the face, but there was something intimidating about him. Perhaps it was his broad shoulders, or the cut of his uniform. She wasn’t entirely sure, but he made it hard to keep her wits. “Did you fare well in Virginia?”

“I always do.” He held her hand a moment, then pressed her knuckles to his lips. “Although, I must say I much prefer the company I find in Maryland.”

“You only say that now. It will be a less desirable place if the Yankees decide to return.” She flushed.

“Do you anticipate their return?”

“Should I?”

He chuckled, looking much younger when he laughed. She couldn’t imagine he was that much older than her. Not that it mattered. “I do believe they would find fierce resistance in you, Miss Archer, should they attempt to cross the threshold of this fine home.”

“When my father left, he certainly did not leave behind a coward.” Heat filled her cheeks. He still hadn’t let go of her hand.

“I wasn’t aware your father had left.”

“He relocated to the North when the war started.” She glanced away from him. The act was more than just leaving; he’d fled as fast as he could and never once looked back. “Said he wanted to preserve his business interests.”

“I should think leaving you behind is a decision he will regret but once,” he kissed her hand again, “and that will be continually.”

She smiled and looked back to his curiously bluish green eyes. His gaze was direct, much too steady to be appropriate.

She liked that.

A rustle behind her drew her attention.

Sarah, mouth pursed in so tight a line her lips nearly disappeared. “Martha has finished the noon time dinner preparation, General Stuart, if you’d care to follow me.” Her glare switched to Elizabeth. “Miss Archer.”

“Mrs. Cooke.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes in response, then flounced from the parlor. Her heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Elizabeth bit back a giggle and glanced at General Stuart. “As the notable Mr. Shakespeare wrote in, As You Like It, ‘Let us make an honorable retreat.’”

He coughed, probably to cover his laughter, and offered her his arm. She slid her hand over the crook of his elbow, the gray wool of his uniform rough under her fingertips. The dining room was the next room on the eastern wing of the house. If she could have found a way to take a longer route down the hall, perhaps up the stairs, past the bedrooms, and then back down the servant’s staircase, she would have done so, just to enjoy his company a little longer.

 

Author Bio:

Heather Hambel Curley was born in West Virginia and raised in Western Pennsylvania. She graduated magna cum laude from Robert Morris University with a degree in Communications in 2004. Heather has been involved with Civil War reenacting since 2001. In 2004, she volunteered at Harpers Ferry National Historical Park with the living history and archeology departments. Currently, she is a corseted living historian with the Baltimore Light Artillery, a group of historians who provide artillery demonstrations in parks such as Harpers Ferry, Gettysburg National Military Park, and Antietam National Battlefield. Heather resides in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and two children. She is a member of Pennwriters and the Historical Novel Society.

Website / Facebook / Twitter

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Poetry of Love: The Engagement Year by N. N. Light is Available Now! #books #ASMSG #IARTG


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Title: Poetry of Love: The Engagement Year

Author: N. N. Light

Genre: Poetry, Love Poetry

 

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Book Blurb:

I had been searching for love my whole life. It took the opening up of the world via technology for me to find my soulmate. Once I laid eyes on her, at the arrivals gate, I knew I was never going to let her go. The following is a collection of poems I wrote to my angel, from our first meeting up until our wedding day. I was working crazy hours as a chef and I had a long commute. I chose my commuting time to pen her a poem each day. These poems speak of our life, our challenges and our growth together…in every aspect they speak of our love.

 

May this book give someone the courage to let their special someone know how much they care for them and how much they mean to them. Saying I love you is a gift you can give many times a day.

 

Excerpt:

‘I’m Not Beautiful’

She says, ‘I’m Not Beautiful’

As she suffers with her cold.

What she doesn’t get is

She’s more beautiful than before.

Joelle’s beauty isn’t fleeting

Or temporary or a guise.

Her beauty is spectacular

Glowing

Flashing

My prize.

The beauty is born of an inner goddess

Her eyes radiate her beauty and character

A glimpse of her angelic soul.

I’m sorry, honey, you are beautiful

It’s impossible for you to be not

I’m marrying a beautiful woman

God’s gracious gift to me.

 

Buy Links:

Available at Amazon Worldwide or FREE on Kindle Unlimited:

https://www.amazon.com/Poetry-Love-Engagement-N-Light-ebook/dp/B01M13IKRH

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32054659-poetry-of-love

 

couple N N Light

 

Author Biography: N. N. Light is the husband-wife writing team, commonly known as Mr. N and Mrs. N. Mrs. N. has been creating stories ever since she was little. Her grandfather remembers when she was two years old, she would stand at the top of the stairs and tell him a story filled with emotion (and in a language foreign to him) with her hands on her hips. Let’s just say she was a born storyteller.

They’re blissfully happy and love all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art, sports, trains, history, cooking and baking. Their mantra is to spread the Light.

Most of the time you can find them on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest. They’re a proud member of ASMSG, Independent Author Network and Marketing for Romance Writers.

In addition to being authors, they’re also book promoters/reviewers, social media marketers/influencers and the owners of N. N. Light Author Promotions. They both love books, have ever since they were young. Matching up books and readers is something that gives them great pleasure.

 

They’d love to connect with you either via email or via these various social media sites:

Website: http://princessofthelight.com

Blog: https://princessofthelight.wordpress.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/nnlight

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/NNP_W_Light

Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-n-light

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/nnlight

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/n-n-light/90/1a7/902

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/118060034268079734144/posts

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/nnlight

Independent Author Network: http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/n-n-light.html

 

 

Now Available in Audio: Shattered Mirror by @libraryoferana #poetry #books #audio


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Title: Shattered Mirror – A Poetry Collection

Author: A.L. Butcher

Genre: Poetry

 

Book Blurb:

A short collection of poems dealing with politics, war and the vagaries of life.

 

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Excerpt:

 

The Glass Eyed Monster

© A. L. Butcher

 

The monster reaches,

To tear the poison sky.

The poet’s wife

Weeps tears of blood within her grave

A prophecy of Promethean fire.

The monster’s glittering eyes, multifaceted

Reflecting an eternal desolation.

Creatures within the steel belly,

Slaves to the god of commerce,

In the service of the damned.

A foul concrete skin

Mocks the soul of the mother of creation

Hideous spires, like claws through Heaven.

A modern monster

Born of the hand of man.

∽※∽

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01IL6L8FK

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01IL6L8FK

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/651668

Createspace https://www.createspace.com/6444126

 

Now Available in Audio —

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Shattered-Mirror-A-Poetry-Collection/dp/B01LDBMYF8/

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Mirror-A-Poetry-Collection/dp/B01LDBN2TK/

 

A L Butcher

 

Author Biography: A. L. Butcher is the British author of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles fantasy series, and several short stories in the fantasy and fantasy romance genres.  She is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet and a dreamer. When she is grounded in the real world she likes science, natural history, history and monkeys. Her work has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as evocative.

 

Social Media Links:

Blog:                      https://libraryoferana.wordpress.com/

Goodreads:        https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6430414A_L_Butcher

Amazon:              http://www.amazon.co.uk/Alexandra-Butcher/e/B008BQFCC6/

Twitter:                @libraryoferana

Facebook:           https://www.facebook.com/DarkFantasyBeyondTheStorm