Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 327

Guest Blog - Release Day Blitz Highland Yearning by Dawn Ireland

When Meggan Connor and I decided to each contribute a story to our Highland Sons Anthology, we hadn’t anticipated we’d be drawn into the world of the Mackays. It wasn’t enough to say we were going to write about this very special clan. We needed a theme, so this legend was born:

The Legend of the Ring of Belief

Forged in a castle out of time and place,
the Ring of Belief brings prosperity and love to those it chooses.
Bequeathed to Clan MacKay for defending natural magic
its bearer is presented with a chance to believe.
Each descendant’s choice will determine their ultimate happiness or despair.

The Ring of Belief has a variety of powers that are controlled by the witches who created the ring. They have been watching over the Mackays for centuries, helping the clan survive because of a past service done for them by Laird Mackay.

One of the ring’s powers is time travel. In my new release, Highland Yearning, Elspbeth, a Ring of Belief witch gives the dog in the story (Scruffy) a choice. He can choose to go back in time with the heroine or remain in our century. Of course, this bit of information can’t be in the book, because dogs can’t talk. But, as an author, I’m privy to the ‘inside scoop.’
Our valiant little Scruffy knows Ariel needs him, so he agrees to go back with her. Of course, he didn’t know he’d have to contend with wildcats, or villains, or the Mackay. Of the three, you can guess who makes him the angriest.

I hope my readers will find humor, mystery, romance and magic in Highland Yearning. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story. You can contact me at Dawn@dawn-ireland.com or go to my website www.Dawn-Ireland.com .   



Highland YearningThe Mackay SagaDawn Ireland
Genre: Highland Time Travel (set in 1775)
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication: July 20th
ASIN: B01FMX5KXG
Number of pages: 249 (pdf)Word Count: 70,000
Cover Artist: Fiona
Book Description:
Caden Mackay would never bed a Sutherland, let alone marry one. Bloody hell, what had possessed his twin brother to propose to one of the she-devils? And what is Caden to do with the Sutherland beauty who appears, as if by magic, in his library? The defiant intruder is the enemy, but she is unlike any woman Caden’s ever known, and her tantalizing curves and wide green eyes could tempt a monk. He must devise a way to stop the wedding. But can he stop the desire that makes him long to make Ariel Sutherland his own? 

Ariel’s life had never gone the way she’d hoped, but ending up in eighteenth century Scotland was a stretch, even for her. If not for her dog, Scruffy, she might have thought she’d walked into a romantic daydream. Especially since the object of her desire appears to be entirely too virile. But can she find her way back to her time, before her too-handsome Highlander makes her believe that love can conquer in any century? 


Amazon Excerpt:

“Are we done, lassie?” Caden’s voice sounded tight. Almost as if he were speaking through his teeth.“I guess so.” She turned and leaned back against the rough stone. “We’ve searched all the rooms in this part of the tower.” “And thanks to you, every person we came across thinks I’m bedding you.”“Would you rather I let them know we were searching for what they consider to be an imaginary ring?” She inclined her head. “I had to come up with some reason for us to be alone in the upstairs bedrooms.”“They’ll never truly believe I’d bed a Sutherland.”Ariel reined in her anger. “Yes, they will. After all, your brother is about to marry a Sutherland.”He came to within a foot of her. “Nay, he will not.” His tone softened. “Don’t you ken what other men will think of you, lassie?”“It doesn’t matter.”“They’ll believe they can take liberties, and you’ve no one to protect you.”“You’re worried about my safety?” “Aye.”When was the last time someone worried about her? Her heart did a little twist. “That’s sweet, but I can take care of myself.”“But your reputation—”“Isn’t a problem. After all, I’m not staying. If anything, you need to worry about your reputation.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the mixture of frustration and confusion on his face.She shook her head. “We left some of those rooms in five or ten minutes. Word could get around that you are . . . shall we say, less than adequate.”
He smiled, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Then I’d have to prove otherwise to every lassie who questioned it.” His voice lowered and he studied her face. “Would you be wondering about my capabilities?” 
About the Author
“Once Upon a Time” are four of Dawn’s favorite words, because she never knows where they will lead. She writes stories to remind herself that even though things may seem bleak, there is always the possibility of a “Happily Ever After.” If along the way she makes readers smile, cry or see the magic in their everyday lives, then she’s done her job.
Dawn’s written several award-winning novels set in Georgian England and the Highlands – an era filled with rules and intrigue. Her characters often defy “Society” as they pursue love, run away, pursue, run away – well, you get the idea.  Then again, she might write romance in order to do the research. What other profession encourages you to sit in the audience at Harlequin’s Male Model search, and take notes, or just sigh?
When she’s not writing, Dawn may be found singing, gardening, learning to play the harp or wood carving. She lives in a Victorian home in Upstate New York with her husband and very independent cats.
Dawn hopes you’ll read her books, and together you’ll bring to life characters that aren’t perfect, but have a story to tell.
www.dawn-ireland.com
www.authordawnIreland.wordpress.com
www.smpauthors.wordpress.com
www.Twitter.com/AuthorDIreland
www.Facebook.com/DawnIrelandAuthor
www.writeblogconnect.wordpress.com


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SHOPPING IS MURDER MCKINLEY MYSTERIES by Carolyn Arnold

A Day in the Life of Carolyn Arnold
Writing is a business and every day I wear several hats: creative, public relations, marketing, sales, accounting, and traffic. The day normally starts out early—sometimes even before the sun’s up—but I work rather fluid hours. I never did well at the 8:30 to 5:00 job, and even self-employed, it’s no different. I rather work motivated by passion and going with the flow. This is not to say that I don’t have goals to reach. In fact, targets are set, such as release dates or marketing plans, and the steps are planned out in advance so I know what needs to be done and when. There also needs to be a degree of flexibility in life so I’m good about stepping back and making any changes to my schedule if I need to, as well.
In fact, no two days are the same except for coffee. Each day starts out with one and quiet reflection for all that I have in life. In the warmer months, I love to sit on my patio listening to my fountain gurgle and the birds sing. I just let my mind drift and relax, savoring the moment. In the cooler months, I sit in my front room. Some days I meditate or journal, but not every day.
Ideally, I start my day with writing or editing, depending on where I am with my scheduling. Usually, I try to allocate a time period for writing and the one following for editing so that my mind isn’t split between two manuscripts. The ideal day for me is when I can devote the bulk of my time to either of these two activities. But as I mentioned at the start of the post, there are a lot of hats I need to wear.
It’s also important to have a strong presence on social media, and I am a member of several Triberr tribes so every day I approve posts to share on Twitter. In addition, and depending on the week, it’s time to prepare the accounting paperwork for my bookkeeper. And the list goes on. However, I am so grateful for all I have in life and for being able to live my passion. One day, I hope to have more people work with me to lessen my administration workload so that I can fully focus on writing and engaging with my readers.
But in the midst of all this busy, I need to find balance, as well. Weather-permitting, myself and my husband will take our beagle Max for a walk or to the dog park, and our intention this summer is to take an afternoon every week and go to a nearby lake. I just love the sound of the water lapping against the shore, and there’s nothing much more relaxing than floating in the water, looking up at the sky.
I think the most important thing to remember is balance, and if life seems to be getting out of control, we need to have the courage to step back and analyze what isn’t working and why. Don’t be afraid of making changes if it brings balance back into your life.

Anyway, there you have it—a day in the life of Carolyn Arnold.


SHOPPING IS MURDER MCKINLEY MYSTERIESby Carolyn Arnold
Published by: Hibbert and Stiles Publishing Inc.ASIN: B00N356BKMISBN (e-book): 978-1-988064-37-6ISBN (print): 978-1-988064-49-9
Approximately 159 pages
BOOK OVERVIEW
Black Friday should be all about shopping and discounts, but Sean and Sara get more than they bargained for. When they only have a few more items left to buy, screams fill the mall—and for good reason. A man has fallen to his death from the second level. 
But what exactly happened isn’t that straightforward, and normally, Sean and Sara would leave this matter to the police, but the widow was a childhood friend of Sara’s. While the police are leaning toward the belief the man intentionally took the leap, the widow is adamant her husband would never jump and asks Sara for her help. 
Despite the fact there is an unresolved past between the friends—in which Sara feels she let her down—Sara can’t turn her back on her now. Fueled by guilt and the need to find answers, Sara convinces Sean they should look into the man’s death. 
But the answers aren’t all coming quickly. Mall security has dropped the ball and there’s no seeming motive for murder. To find out the truth will take unconventional means, a little undercover work, and the help of their friend Jimmy. And if it all comes together, they just might have this case wrapped up in time for the holidays. Maybe even with a pretty little bow.
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McKinley MysteriesCarolyn Arnold
Published by: Hibbert and Stiles Publishing Inc.
Number of books in series as of May 2016: 10
Sleuth around with murder-solving duo Sean and Sara McKinley as they do whatever it takes to unravel a mystery while romancing it up along the way.
Series Overview:
Romance. Humor. Murder. Are you looking for a murder mystery without all the graphic violence and foul language? Something that you can enjoy in an afternoon and walk away feeling good about afterward? How about a dash of humor and romance? If so, meet former detectives Sean and Sara McKinley. When a billionaire leaves them all his money, they no longer have to work, but they find themselves sticking to what they’re good at—solving murders. Undercover, off the books, and around the world, they’ll get to the bottom of things…and romance it up along the way.
This is the perfect book series for fans of Hart to Hart, Castle, Colombo, Monk, Rockford Files, Psych, and Magnum PI.
Read in any order or follow the series from the beginning: The Day Job is Murder, Vacation is Murder, Money is Murder, Politics is Murder, Family is Murder, Shopping is Murder, Christmas is Murder, Valentine’s Day is Murder, Coffee is Murder, Skiing is Murder.

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McKinley Mysteries Series Page
About the Author:
CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international best-selling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action adventures.
Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.
Carolyn was born in a small town and enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and empower.
She currently lives just west of Toronto with her husband and beagle and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada.
Connect with CAROLYN ARNOLD Online:

Website - http://carolynarnold.net/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/Carolyn_Arnold
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCarolynArnold  
And don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter for up-to-date information on release and special offers at http://carolynarnold.net/newsletters

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Interview and Giveaway - Her Black Wings by One A.J. Norris

Can you tell readers a little bit about yourself and what inspired to write in this particular genre?
I’m from southeastern Michigan and live with my husband and son. I love going to the movies in my free time and watching my son play baseball. I write romantic suspense and paranormal romance. I first fell in love with paranormal after discovering the BDB books and have been hooked ever since. 

Please tell us about your latest release. 
Her Black Wings is about a girl who wasn’t the best person but at the end of her life she makes the ultimate sacrifice and earns a chance to redeem her soul. She falls for the angel sent to aid her but he has issues of his own. She has to figure out if she’s strong enough to save herself.

Did you find anything really interesting while researching this or another book? 
I did some research on sky-diving and found some interesting stories about people’s experiences. It seemed like they either hated it or loved it and couldn’t wait to do it again.
Do you write in different genres? 
Yes. I also write romantic suspense.
Do you find it difficult to write in multiple genres? 
I don’t find it difficult just different. I have to adjust my mindset a bit because in a non-paranormal world you have to stick to the laws of nature. And that sometimes isn’t as fun.
When did you consider yourself a writer? 
When I had my first short story published.

Other than writing, what are some of your interests, hobbies or passions in life?
I love to go to the movies by myself. This way I always see what I want and no one talks to me during the movie. LOL

What can readers expect next from you?
Book two, Her Black Heart comes out in August and I have a romantic suspense coming out as well but don’t have a release date yet.
Where can readers find you on the web?
Website: www.ajnorrisauthor.comBlog: www.ajnorris.comFB: www.facebook.com/alisajnorris/Twitter: www.twitter.com/AJNorris_Author
Would you like to leave readers with a little teaser or excerpt from the book?
“You can touch them if you want.” Placing a hand on the cushion at her hip, he leaned down. He ran a palm along one of the top arches of her wings. She closed her eyes and moaned, carried away by the new sensation. His touch felt erotic. What was the deal with that? He seemed to enjoy it as much as she did. Then he stopped, got off the couch, and went to gaze out the sliding glass door. The angel stared outside. When he didn’t move for five minutes, Amalya became curious to see what he was looking at so intently through the glass. She pulled herself to a sitting position. Straightening out her legs, she placed her bare feet on the putrid yellow carpet. When she took a step toward him, she almost tripped over one of the shoes Aba had given her. She looked around for the other pump. It was missing. Damn; she’d liked them too.
She stood beside him about to take her first glimpse of Earth in ten years. The fact that it had only been a couple of days for them didn’t matter; she was nervous. All she could see was an overcast sky, reminding her of the last moments of her life. She had to step closer to the glass to get a better view. The balcony beyond the door-wall was enclosed with a black wrought iron railing. They were up high, maybe on the top floor of a ten or so story building. She expected to see snow on the ground. Instead, grass covered the courtyard below. What had happened to winter?
Her Black WingsThe Dark Amulet SeriesBook OneA.J. Norris
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Date of Publication: July 12, 2016
Word Count: 76,000
Book Description:
Amalya Rivers longs to die and end her lonely existence—but it doesn’t work out that way…
A former runaway turned criminal, Amalya is murdered and thrust into a treacherous world full of red-skinned, horned beasts under the control of the Demon Ruler, Abaddon, instead of enjoying peace and serenity like she hoped. But saving a young child from a certain brutal death in the last moments of her life has earned her a chance at salvation.
Elliott the Redeemer wants no part in saving another soul…
After one too many failures at redeeming lost souls, the nail-biting, self-pitying Elliot has had enough of his work and would prefer to live out his eternity on Earth drowning in bourbon. It doesn’t matter that Amalya has grown black feathered wings signifying the good that still dwells within her. He can’t risk failure again.
Amalya must save someone from her past in order to escape Abaddon’s rule…
She has to prevent the now grown child she saved from committing murder or risk returning to Netherworld with Abaddon for good. She can’t do it alone, though. Amalya needs the help of the angel sent to guide her, but their emerging love might not be enough to convince Elliot she’s worth the risk.
Amalya loves her black wings. She knows she’s meant to be an angel—and she will stop at nothing to prove it…

Amazon About the Author:
A.J. Norris is a romantic suspense and paranormal romance novelist.  She began writing as a way to dim down the voices inside her head. She enjoys being able to get inside someone else's head, even a fictional one, and see what they see. Watching how her characters deal with difficult situations or squirm with the uncomfortable ones make the hard work of writing all worth it. She is a movie buff, especially book adaptations, loves watching her son play baseball and communing with other writers.  She lives with her family who are extremely tolerant (at least most of the time) of all her late nights behind the computer.
FB: https://www.facebook.com/alisajnorris/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AJNorris_Author
Website: www.ajnorrisauthor.com
Blog: www.ajnorris.com

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Cover Reveal Hot Shot by S.A. Stolinsky

Hot ShotS.A. Stolinsky
Suspense
November 1, 2016
Payback is a powerful thing...
Actor and bartender, Tyler West experiences a sudden streak of luck -- winning poker games. Determined to change his life, he enters the World Series of Poker. His life is suddenly turned upside down when the Russian mafia fronts him 1.5 million dollars to play at the tables. And then...he loses…
Now on the ride of his life, deceit and deception are his key to uncovering the truth. He must recoup the money, but will it come at a price? Can he stay alive long enough or will his time run out?
Fiery Seas Publishing


Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/cc3b8xb7sl8


About the Author:
Stefanie Stolinsky, Ph.D. is a licensed psychologist and forensic psychologist with a private practice in Beverly Hills, California. She  specializes  in trauma, adults sexually, physically and emotionally abused as children, and PTSD. She is an international speaker and has taught training seminars in overcoming the aftereffects of child abuse. She has also taught licensing examinations to candidates for both marriage, family and child counseling and for the psychology licenses. 
She began her career as an actress in motion pictures, television and stage and created a unique therapy combining acting exercises with psychodynamic psychotherapy to help survivors of all kinds of trauma overcome the aftereffects of abuse. The first edition of "ACT IT OUT" was a top seller for over nine years. A second edition of the popular book was launched in April of this year and is available on Praeclarus Press, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble. 
She is also the author of several award-winning short stories including her newest short story anthology, DATE NIGHT, and numerous comedy mystery. Dr. Stolinsky lives with her husband in Los Angeles.
https://www.facebook.com/stefanie.stolinsky
https://twitter.com/sastolinsky

Release Day Blitz, Giveaway and Sale! The After Effect by Rose Shababy

The After EffectRenegade Heroes SeriesBook TwoRose Shababy
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Sci-fi
Publisher: Super Sheroes LLC
Date of Publication: July 19th, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9904620-3-3ASIN: B01GSMOAE0
Number of pages: 228 approx.Word Count: 72,757
Cover Artist: Regina Wamba
Maximum Ride meets Sin City in the Renegade Heroes series!
Kasey and his friends are fringe heroes. They use their abilities to protect society, until their last battle leaves Kasey almost dead. Disillusioned, they leave the city in search of peace.
But peace is the last thing they’ll find. Ever since Kasey escaped the cold fingers of death, his powers have been running wild. It doesn’t take long for his girlfriend, Blue, and the others to notice.
In the lush forests of northern Idaho they meet a brand new hero whose shocking revelation sheds new light on Kasey’s strange behavior.
And with her revelation comes a terrible solution none of them can accept.
Worse still, Kasey soon comes face to face with the nightmares of his past.
Will the heroes find the strength to face the consequences of their mistakes? Or will Kasey be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice?
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The Blue EffectRenegade HeroesBook OneRose Shababy                       Blue Brennan is jaded and bitter despite her pinup girl looks and quick wit. Night after night, she scours the Seattle club scene looking for someone or something to fill the emptiness inside.
When she meets the mysterious Kasey, her world stops… literally. He claims she has the ability to control time and stuns her even further when he reveals his own gifts.Blue is inexplicably drawn to Kasey and reluctantly enters his world filled with a new breed of humanity. They’re misfits like her, blessed or cursed with powerful abilities, struggling to hide their differences from the rest of society.
Then the group discovers a nameless, faceless sociopath with nightmarish powers; and he’s coming for Blue. She’s left reeling when they discover her gifts are the key to defeating his terrible evil and saving them all.

Now she must race against the clock to harness her own powers and save her new friends. Can she be more than a renegade? Can she be a hero too?


On Sale for .99 at Amazon

About the Author:
Rose Shababy and her family reside in eastern Washington State. Rose grew up in the Northwest but swears she’s going to move to warmer climates someday. She’s claimed this for over 20 years, however, and has yet to move more than 75 miles away from her mother.
Rose has a deep love of all things Star Trek and yearns to travel the heavens, as well as an intense desire to be bitten by a radioactive spider. Unfortunately she sucks at science and math so she hasn’t been able bring her dreams to life, instead living vicariously through books, comics, television and film. She hopes to someday make a million dollars so she can afford to buy her way to the international space station, but she’d settle for being able to fly around the world and leap tall buildings in a single bound.
Rose also loves to cook and worked for years in a gourmet Italian grocery and deli where she learned to hone her skills. She prepares culinary masterpieces for her family, but fervently wishes the dishes would wash themselves. Especially now that her dishwashers/children are nearly grown and only one still lives at home.
Rose likes to use her free time wisely. For instance, she likes to daydream, will often read for hours until she falls asleep on the couch with an electric blanket and a warm tabby cat curled up on her hip, as well as spending cozy weekend days watching Syfy movies like Sharknado and Mega Piranha with her husband.
If Rose were a cartoon animal, she’d prefer to be a wise old owl or a sleek and sexy jaguar, but in reality she’d probably be a myopic mole with coke-bottle glasses.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rose.shababy
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RoseShababy
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Shababy/e/B00NJXBZOK/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6063741-rose-shababy
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/roseshababy/
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Switching Genres with Lincoln Cole

I’ve never liked being stuck in a single genre, either as a reader or as a writer. There are huge benefits to it because it helps to simplify the story and match the expectations of readers browsing a specific category. Dozens of professional writers who have made fortunes from Amazon proclaim the benefits of writing to market and giving the audience exactly the book they expect.
That’s fine, and I think it’s hugely beneficial for a writer’s career to be able to churn out works that fit a specific genre and fulfill expectations if that is what they are trying to do. But, for most authors, writing to get rich isn’t really the end goal. We write because we enjoy it or we feel that there is a story we want to tell.
Sometimes that story doesn’t fit neatly into a category with a nice bow on it, but that’s okay because life doesn’t work that way either. I like to blend genres and put things together that people aren’t expecting. Tropes and clichés exist because they are comfortable, and I think there is a happy medium between adding something new to a genre or simply repeating it because it’s something people already understand.It all depends on what the end goal is for the author and his fans. Major publishers maintain editing control over an author’s career and will not allow them to deviate from their ‘lane’ but that same control isn’t put upon a self-published or indie author. For Indies we have the power to do anything we want, which gives complete freedom but also comes with inherent risks.
For me, I like to branch out and try new things. If I’m inspired to tell a story, then I’ll do my best to tell it even if it is nothing like what came before. There are stories and series I prefer to write, but I’m willing to try anything at least once. If you’re an aspiring author, then I recommend you decide for yourself what sort of career you want to have, and then experiment until you’re having fun with it. If writing isn’t fun, then why bother?

Raven’s PeakWorld on FireBook 1Lincoln Cole
Genre: Horror/Paranormal Thriller
Date of Publication: 7/4/16
ISBN: 9780997225976
Number of pages: 280Word Count: 76,000
Cover Artist: MN Arzu
Book Description:
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 find out what is happening. She uncovers a demonic threat unlike any she's ever faced and finds herself in a fight just to stay alive.
She 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, and also trust him if she wants to save the townsfolk of Raven's Peak. Trust, however, is considerably more difficult 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?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/Y7MhpGIAWkU

Amazon 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.“Reverend? Can you hear me?”The guard reached out to tap the Reverend on the shoulder. Just a tap, no danger at all, but his hand never even came close. Honed reflexes reacted before anyone could possibly understand what was happening. Suddenly the Reverend was standing. He hovered above the guard who was down on his knees. The man let out a sharp cry, his left shoulder twisted up at an uncomfortable angle by the Reverend’s iron grip. The lash hung in the air, ready to strike at its new prey.The Reverend looked curiously at the man, seeing him for the first time. He recognized him as one of the first guardsmen he’d ever spoken with when placed in this cell. A nice European chap with a wife and two young children. A little overweight and balding, but well-intentioned.Most of him didn’t want to hurt this man, but there was a part—a hungry, needful part—that did. That part wanted to hurt this man in ways neither of them could even imagine. One twist would snap his arm. Two would shatter the bone; the sound as it snapped would be . . .  A symphony rivaling Tchaikovsky.The second guard—the younger one that smelled of fear—stumbled back, struggling to draw his gun. “No! No, don’t!”That from the first, on his knees as if praying. The Reverend wondered if he prayed at night with his family before heading to bed. Doubtless, he prayed that he would make it home safely from work and that one of the inmates wouldn’t rip his throat out or gouge out his eyes. Right now, he was waving his free hand at his partner to get his attention, to stop him.The younger guard finally worked the gun free and pointed it at the Reverend. His hands were shaking as he said, “Let him go!”“Don’t shoot, Ed!”“Let him go!”The older guard, pleading this time: “Don’t piss him off!”




 About the Author:
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.
http://www.LincolnCole.net
http://www.LincolnCole.net/blog
https://www.twitter.com/lincolnjcole
https://www.facebook.com/lincolnjcole
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7796821.Lincoln_Cole
https://amazon.com/author/lincolncole.net


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Guest Blog and Giveaway - Branded Trilogy Books 1 and 2 by Kat Flannery

What inspired me to write Lakota Honor?

After the release of my first book, Chasing Clovers I knew I’d write another book. This was just the beginning of years and years of jotting down short stories, poems and writing articles. I was ready to jump into the author world, and by that I wanted to produce one novel a year, maybe two.
Once the promotion and marketing had settled down with Chasing Clovers I had the itch. Yup, that little annoying poke to start another story. Soon my fingers found the keyboard and I was ready to let loose a fantastic tale full of grand adventures.
Earlier my publisher, Imajin Books had suggested I write something paranormal. Paranormal? Me? I don’t think so. I was a historical western writer. I wrote about cowboys, damsels and horses. Not werewolves and vampires. I brushed her comment aside not thinking of it again. I had a great plot a few awesome subplots. I was ready to write, and I did, about 30,000 words. Then a writer’s worst nightmare happened. My mind went blank. The writing stopped. How could this be? I’d planned everything out. I had a chapter outline. I knew how the story was going to end. I yelled and cursed at my characters for their silence as I stared at a blank computer screen. I’d written the start of a great Historical western romance…and I couldn’t finish it. 
Frustration set in and I pushed through the writer’s block, insisting that’s all it was. I’d created a mean, venomous assassin in my antagonist; Otakatay and I wanted to continue his reign of vengeance. But somehow along the way I’d begun to feel sorry for him. You don’t pity your villain…ever. 
I couldn’t stop thinking about why he was so mean? Why had he killed so many? I started to think about what Stephen King had said, “If the reader can have empathy for your killer then you’ve done something right.”  Hmmmm. I had empathy for him, but I’d created him. I knew almost everything about him, except why he was so ruthless. As days passed and the writing had still not come back, I kept thinking about Otakatay. 
Was it his story I needed to tell? Could it be that I’d been wrong all along and this lost and angry character needed to be saved?
So I got to thinking and soon I answered my own questions, or Otakatay did. Once I knew why he’d turned out the way he did, I knew I needed to write his story. He’d been ridiculed—judged—cast aside not because of his actions but the color of his skin. He’d been whipped and beaten, and because of all this…he learned to hate—he learned to kill. 
I needed to balance the story out, and so I created Nora. She was a healer and helped those in need. This was where the paranormal came into it. Nora had been run from towns and hunted by people who feared her. She too, had been chastised, but instead of hate, instead of killing, she loved no matter what. Why were Otakatay and Nora so different? You’ll have to read the book to find out. 
Once I put the two together the story flowed like lava. I couldn’t type fast enough. Within 2 ½ months I’d finished the book and Otakatay’s story. 
What happened to the 30,000 words? They sit in a folder with the other story starters I’ve had.

Lakota HonorBranded TrilogyBook 1Kat Flannery
Genre: Historical western paranormal romance
Publisher: Imajin Books
Date of Publication: May 30, 2013
ISBN: 9781927792001ASIN: B00D0S530G
Number of pages: 183Word Count: 71,000
Cover Artist: Ryan Thomas Doan
Book Description:
Fate has brought them together, but will a promise tear them apart?
In the small town of Willow Creek, Colorado, Nora Rushton spends most of her days locked up in her home with a father who resents her and fighting off unwanted marriage proposals from the wealthy Elwood Calhoun. Marked as a witch, Nora must hide her healing powers from those who wish to destroy all the witkowin—crazy women. What she doesn't know is that a bounty hunter is hot on her trail.
Lakota native Otakatay has an obligation to fulfill. He has been hired to kill the witkowin. In a time when race and difference are a threat and innocence holds no ground, courage, love and honor will bring Nora and Otakatay together as they fight for their freedom.
Will the desire to fulfill his promise drive Otakatay to kill Nora? Or will the kindness he sees in her blue eyes push him to be the man he once was?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/2_rK9fREcos
Amazon     BN     Createspace     Chapters


PROLOGUE Lakota Honor
Colorado Mountains, 1880
The blade slicing his throat made no sound, but the dead body hitting the ground did. With no time to stop, he hurried through the dark tunnel until he reached the ladder leading out of the shaft. He’d been two hundred feet below ground for ten days, with no food and little water. Weak and woozy, he stared up the ladder. He’d have to climb it and it wasn’t going to be easy. He wiped the bloody blade on his torn pants and placed it between his teeth. Scraped knuckles and unwashed hands gripped the wooden rung. The earth swayed. He closed his eyes and forced the spinning in his head to cease. One thin bronzed leg lifted and came down wobbly. He waited until his leg stopped shaking before he climbed another rung. Each step caused pain, but was paired with determination. He made it to the top faster than he’d thought he would. The sky was black and the air was cool, but fresh. Thank goodness it was fresh. He took two long breaths before he emerged from the hole. The smell from below ground still lingered in his nostrils; unwashed bodies, feces and mangy rats. His stomach pitched. He tugged at the rope around his hands. There had been no time to chew the thick bands around his wrists when he’d planned his escape. It was better to run than crawl, and he chewed through the strips that bound his feet instead. There would be time to free his wrists later.He pressed his body against the mountain and inched toward the shack. He frowned. A guard stood at the entrance to where they were. The blade from the knife pinched his lip, cutting the thin skin and he tasted blood. He needed to get in there. He needed to say goodbye. He needed to make a promise.  The tower bell rang mercilessly. There was no time left. He pushed away from the rocky wall, dropped the knife from his mouth into his bound hands, aimed and threw it. The dagger dug into the man’s chest. He ran over, pulled the blade from the guard and quickly slid it across his throat. The guard bled out in seconds. He tapped the barred window on the north side of the dilapidated shack. The time seemed to stretch. He glanced at the large house not fifty yards from where he stood. He would come back, and he would kill the bastard inside. He tapped again, harder this time, and heard the weak steps of those like him shuffling from inside. The window slid open, and a small hand slipped out. “Toksha ake—I shall see you again,” he whispered in Lakota.The hand squeezed his once, twice and on the third time held tight before it let go and disappeared inside the room. A tear slipped from his dark eyes, and his hand, still on the window sill, balled into a fist. He swallowed past the sob and felt the burn in his throat. His chest ached for what he was leaving behind. He would survive, and he would return.Men shouted to his right, and he crouched down low. He took one last look around and fled into the cover of the forest.





Blood CurseThe Branded TrilogyBook 2Kat Flannery
Genre: Historical paranormal suspense romance
Publisher: Imajin Books
Date of Publication: October 1, 2014
ISBN: 9781772230031ASIN: B00MV4UDHI
Number of pages: 216Word Count: 75,000
Formats available: eBook and Trade paperback
Cover Artist: Ryan Thomas Doan
Book Description:
“Upon mine death for the blood ye have shed, Every daughter born to ye shall die before it draws breath, to which ye will know pain and worse, I cast unto ye mine blood curse.” ~ Vadoma
Four years after the Blood Curse, Pril of the Peddlers vows to protect her child against the evil men who hunt her. With her clan unaware of the branded girl among them, Pril has to keep the identity of her daughter a secret. When her child is kidnapped, she is forced to ask Merchant runner, Kade Walker, for his help.
Kade Walker needs to find the gypsy child. Blackmailed and pushed beyond his own moral code, he is determined to do whatever it takes. When he comes across the Peddler clan, he is sure the girl is there, however all hope is lost when the gypsies capture him. Time is running out—until Pril makes him an offer he cannot refuse.
Amidst greed, lust, revenge and love, Pril will need to trust Kade. But as the evil nears and doubt creeps in, will she discover that the enemy has been standing next to her all along?
Amazon     BN     Createspace     Chapters
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/tJZeBrpg-zw


Blood Curse Excerpt:“Upon mine death for the blood ye have shed,every daughter born to ye shall die before it draws breath, to which ye will know pain and worse, I cast unto ye mine blood curse.”  ~ Vadoma
CHAPTER ONE
Appalachian Mountains, Virginia 1723
Pril Peddler lifted the green shawl from her trunk and wrapped it around her bare arms. The change in seasons brought a damp chill to the morning air, and the heavy woolen wrap kept her warm. She peeked at the small face huddled under the blankets at the back of the wagon. The charm above the child swayed on the string Pril had hung it from. A dull ache hummed in her chest when she thought of the horrific loss her clan had been dealt.The evil was near, and she’d need to work another spell to keep them safe. Late for counsel with her brother, Galius, she kissed the soft cheek of her daughter before heading to the door.Hand up, she shaded her eyes from the bright sun as she stepped from the back of the vardo. She pulled the heavy burlap curtain down to close the opening and walked toward Galius. “Your steps are light this morning, Sister. One would think you did not want to be heard,” Galius said as he stirred the coffee beans inside the metal pot. Tension twisted her gut. He was right; she did not want this counsel. She did not know what to say. She let the flicker of merriment in her brother’s eyes wash over her relaxing the muscles in her shoulders.“My step is the same.” She poked him with her finger trying to ease her own nerves and his as well.His lips lifted as if to smile, and she held her breath. It’d been weeks since he smiled. Pril’s heart ached, and her lips trembled. He held up the bubbling pot. “Would you like a cup?”        She inhaled the aroma of strong coffee beans and nodded taking a seat on a wooden stump by the fire.He handed her a cup and sat down across from her.The wood crackled, and sparks jumped from the heat onto the ground in front of her. She tipped her chin concentrating on what to say next. Ever since the murder of her niece, she’d not been able to hold a conversation with either of her brothers without offering apologies. This morning was no different. She could not look Galius in the eyes and see the anguish and sorrow within them. The Monroes had come again. They’d never be safe. She blinked away the tears hovering against her thick lashes. Tsura was asleep in her wagon, while another was lost to them forever. The door of her brother’s wagon creaked open and Milosh’s wife, Magda, stepped out. Black circles settled around her sunken eyes, and Pril felt the stab in her chest once more. Long brown hair fell untied down the woman’s back. The black clothes she’d put on weeks ago hung on her body unchanged and wrinkled from sleep. Milosh came from behind their wagon, a jar of honey in his hand. Pril stood when Galius’ large hand grabbed her wrist. “They are not wanting to see you today, Sister.” She heard the regret in his voice, swallowed past the guilt in her own throat and nodded. Milosh hadn’t spoken a single word to her since the death of his child. He blamed her, and it was clear so did Magda. “I…I’m so sorry, Galius.”He didn’t reply right away, and without seeing it, she knew he had wiped the tears from his eyes. “Alexandra’s death is not your fault.”The words were spoken because they needed to be. Gypsies stayed together no matter what. They were family. There was no truth to his words, and Pril knew it. “Are you going after them?” she asked.“I hold no power, no spells flow from my lips. I am strong, yes, but they are stronger.” He stared at her, his eyes pleading. “We need the pendant.”Guilt thickened her tongue; the gritty residue clung to her lips and tasted bitter. The talisman had been in their family for generations, blessed by each new Chuvani. Vadoma had promised her the pendant before she died, but Pril never saw it, and there had been no time to search for the jewel when they fled.  “Without the pendant we cannot break the curse. We cannot protect our people.”She knew this. They all knew this, but no one had a clue as to where the talisman was. She’d tried to call an image forward, to make a finding spell, but nothing worked. “We have lost one of our own. Our clan is frightened. They have lost faith. We cannot fight the Monroes. We have neither the numbers nor the skill.” He took a long drink of his coffee. “And neither do you.”She glanced at him.“I know you, Sister. You’re planning to take Tsura.”Pril sighed. She did not know what else to do. The Monroes were coming for her child. Alexandra had died because of that. Milosh and Magda hated her.“Running is not going to change anything.”“It will save lives. It will…help Milosh and Magda to heal.”“No, it will not. Running will get you and Tsura killed and that is all.”“How can you look at me when you know what I’ve brought to our family, when you know that this is all because of me?” Galius blew out a long breath that moved his thick beard from his lips. She watched through tear filled eyes as his bottom lip quivered. “Vadoma put this burden on you. For that, we do not judge.”Their sister had died a vile death. She’d betrayed their clan and had hung while being burned. Pril ached for her sister’s guidance and counsel. She yearned to know that what she was doing was right. “We had a plan, and up until Alexandra’s death it worked. We will rethink and come up with something better—stronger.” The plan was simple. Dress the girls as boys, and the Monroes wouldn’t find them. But someone had figured out Alexandra was a girl. Someone had told the Monroes. They came for her, stealing the precious child in the middle of the night. The morning two weeks before, as the clan frantically searched for her, a harrowing scream Pril would never forget echoed across the land. Milosh found his daughter’s body by the river, her neck broken.  She raised a shaky hand to her mouth so she wouldn’t let out the sob she held against her lips. “I have enough for one more protection spell.” She lied; her forehead ached because of it. He glanced at her, his eyes showing no emotion. “You will concoct another.”“I cannot.”He frowned.“The spell has the oil Vadoma blessed. Without it, Tsura is at the mercy of the Monroes and so are we.”Galius pumped his large hands into tight fists. “Surly you can think of another?”“I cannot. Vadoma placed the blood curse. It is only with the blessed oil that I am able to create the spell to keep danger away. The oil is almost gone.”He worked his jaw. “That gypsy whore— She held up her hand to stop him from blaspheming their sister. It wasn’t right. It brought evil to curse your own, and Pril would have none of it.“Our sister had her reasons. Leave it be.”“Reasons? She betrayed us. Left us with a curse we cannot break and wealthy plantation owners hunting our very hides—killing our children!”She hung her head unable to look at him. What could she say? He was right. Her very niece had died but thirteen days ago.



About the Author:
Kat Flannery’s love of history shows in her novels. She is an avid reader of historical, suspense, paranormal, and romance. She has her Certificate in Freelance and Business Writing. A member of many writing groups, Kat enjoys promoting other authors on her blog. She’s been published in numerous periodicals throughout her career.
Her debut novel CHASING CLOVERS has been an Amazon Top 100 Paid bestseller. LAKOTA HONOR and BLOOD CURSE (Branded Trilogy) are Kat’s two award-winning novels and HAZARDOUS UNIONS is Kat’s first novella. Kat is currently hard at work on her next book.
Website: http://www.katflannerybooks.com
Blog: http://www.kat-scratch.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/katflannery1
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kat-Flannery/105465069558958

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One Cold Night by Aliyah Burke

One Cold NightFearless 3Aliyah Burke
Genre: Romantic suspense
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication:  July 1, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-945193-09-5
Word Count: 50000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill         
Book Description:
Heat sizzles during the winter…
John Prince has been undercover for the ATF for over two years when his cover is blown. His rescuer comes in the female form and goes by Leena. Their attraction is hot enough to melt the snow outside but he has to wonder: are the ones who set him up for death still after him?
Leena Parsons prefers dogs to people. Regardless, she can’t leave the man she finds in an icy river to die, so she takes him home. During their days and nights together, she learns about the man betrayed by his own. She falls for him and when danger arrives again, she puts herself in harm’s way to ensure that he isn’t killed.
He lied to her about his last name, thrust her into danger, and yet through it all she stayed at his side. When it is all over, will he be able to hold onto the woman who found him one cold night?
ARe
Excerpt:
Leena shivered and burrowed her hands further into the oversized men’s jacket, ducking her head further below the upturned collar. The snow whipped around her, biting exposed skin with a hungry ferocity.“Come on, Argo,” she muttered. “Unlike you, I don’t relish being out here.” Like he could see her—or respond in words, she shrugged. “Not at night anyway. Especially at a rest area.”The winds carried his deep bark to her and her shoulders sagged. I know what that means. There would be no return trip to the van until she went to see what he wanted. “Argo, hier!” she pitched her voice to carry over the wind and pelting snow.She stomped her feet, wishing once more she was back in the van and on the road, headed home. The trip had been a long one, good, but long. From the darkness he appeared like a rocket who’d locked in her trajectory, snow flew out from his bounding strides. He executed a perfect sit before her as if there weren’t all that snow under his ass.“Good boy,” she praised, before giving him her unique release command. “Wazzu.”He barked again and backed up now that he’d been released. His intentions plain. Her heart broke for a moment; he looked so much like his father. Her heart dog. Another bark followed by a spin and two bounces in the other direction.“I’m coming. Two legs, not four here.” She struck out after him, cursing as the land dipped down, causing her to slide through the knee-deep snow. Her dog led her to a thick copse of trees where he barked at a log, lying partially in the freezing river.She brushed a wet curl away from her face. “Seriously? You wanted me to see you bark at a log? I should kill you. Let’s go.”He ignored her and stepped closer to the water. Her mouth dropped open when he grasped something in his jaw and yanked. Shit, that’s a person.She scrambled over by Argo, driving him back with a single word. It was a man, the blowing snow had partially covered him and his lower body still lay submerged in the icy water.“Shit.” She shifted and bent to grasp him beneath his arms, then pulled. By the time she got him free of the water, she was panting. He wasn’t small by any stretch. His body riddled with burn marks, wounds, and absolutely no clothing.Without thought, she shrugged out of her coat and covered him. On her, it went past her calves. On him, it barely hit his knees.“What the fuck happened to you?”“Leave me,” he rasped before he collapsed, completely unconscious. “Sure, because I was raised to leave half frozen naked men alone. I don’t suppose you’re just pretending to be unconscious, are you?” Of course not. “Fuck me sideways, this is going to suck.” She bent back down and got to the arduous task of moving him to safety.It took her nearly twenty minutes to drag him up to her van that thankfully she’d parked close to where she was coming up. The wind had picked up along with the snow, making her all the more pleased to have Argo with her. The parking lot was vacant on her end, everyone else having parked near the restrooms.Per her norm, she’d chosen an empty area so the dogs she travelled with wouldn’t be around everyone. Especially when she let them stretch their legs. She paused, digging in her pants pocket for her keys, then unlocked her van.“This is how serial killers get into your life, Leena. You bring them in.” She opened the side door, immediately saying, “Blibe.” The three dogs there stayed as ordered and she returned to the unconscious, still naked man lying in a heap.Her own strength waning, she grunted and groaned as she maneuvered him into the vehicle. “Usually I’m having sex when I mutter and grunt this much. Or I think I do, haven’t had any in a while so I’m not sure how it goes.”Once inside the van, she reached and closed out the cold once Argo had jumped in. At least until he shook. Her dogs were interested in her newcomer but she moved them aside as she took him to the bench seat converted to a bed in the back. She reached around him and removed the jacket, doing her best to ignore his cock that lay against his leg.“Maybe you’re not all cold.”She drew back the blankets and nearly lay him back but a moment of hesitation for the injuries on his back were a problem that needed addressing. Reaching over him to the rear of the van, she grabbed the first aid kit she always carried from where it rested in its spot. Then set about cleaning his injuries.“Someone sure did a number on you, man.” Shallow cuts, deep cuts, burns, and more bruising than she cared to think about. She worked swiftly to be able to get him under the blankets.More thoughts of his cock filled her as she moved it aside to clean the gash on his inner thigh. Thoughts she brushed away.He groaned as she lay him on his back. “I know it hurts and I’m sorry. Either side will hurt, not much I can do about that. You’ll be warm in just a bit.”He lay on her electric blanket and below three others heavy blankets. Scrambling to the front, she started the ignition then returned to adjust the heat to the lowest setting on the blanket. Unsure of how long he’d been submerged in the water, she didn’t want it totally hot, that would be hella painful when feeling returned. Better to do low and allow the warmth work its way up.“Heat from both sides.”She covered him again and watched as the two bitches lay on either side of him before her youngest dog curved his body around the man’s feet.She stuffed the cleaning supplies in the trash and reached for her bag. After drawing out a dry sweatshirt, she hesitated a second before she scoffed at herself.“Just got done touching his naked body, the man’s unconscious, and I’m hesitant about stripping in front of him.” She removed the sodden item and draped it over the crate against the side. Then pulled on the dry one. Then she shucked the snow pants, leaving her in dry jeans.Her stomach rumbled, reminding her it was time for some food. “I know, I know.”She glanced at the bed and smiled, he wasn’t visible with the dogs around him. “No heat like dog heat. Come on, boy.”She went back to the driver’s seat and slid over the fabric. Her full size van may not have been new but it was all hers and ran superbly. Argo hopped into the passenger seat, turned two circles, and lay down on the bed she’d created for him there. Rubbing his head, she hit the windshield wipers.“You’re taken care of, now it’s my turn.” He grunted. “Almost home, boy. Just a few more hours.”He yawned and closed his eyes.



About the Author:
Aliyah Burke is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be found on Facebook or Twitter at @AliyahBurke96.
She is married to a career military man. They are owned by four Borzoi, and a DSH cat. She spends her days sharing time between work, writing, and dog training.
For more information on other books by Aliyah, visit her website:
http:// www.aliyah-burke.com
http://twitter.com/AliyahBurke96
https://www.facebook.com/Aliyah-Burke-283998078320168
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Interview - The Embodied Trilogy Special Edition Ebook Collection by JB Dutton

Can you tell readers a little bit about yourself and what inspired to write in this particular genre?
I’m originally from England but moved to Canada (specifically Montreal) as a young chap/wee lad/rambunctious nipper. I’ve been writing my whole life, including a stage play, screenplays, short stories, and novels (I’ve also written for corporations like Cirque du Soleil, which was fun but it’s super difficult to balance a laptop on a trapeze.)
I have young kids and was attracted to the YA sci-fi fantasy genre because I love the idea of encouraging them and other kids to get into reading. There’s an escapism and imaginative power to sci-fi fantasy that is very attractive when you’re young. I’ve always been a huge fan of Doctor Who (since the original series, pre-reboot) and I know that somewhere inside me I hope that the producers will like my books and ask me to write a script for the show one day!
What fascinates you about vampires?
Vampires only have a passing mention in the Embodied trilogy, but harking back to Doctor Who once again, I’ve always enjoyed seeing paranormal and mythological beings explained through science, which is where the sci-fi fantasy crossover comes in. Doctor Who has always had stories that “explain” vampires, ghosts, demons, the devil, witches, etc, and I get a real kick out of this reverse-cultural-engineering or whatever it is.Vampires per se are interesting because of what they represent. I think we all know people who are psychic vampires, and unfortunately they’re often people we love. These are people who draw their strength from sucking it out of those around them. It’s very negative but highly fascinating to me.
What inspired you to write this book?
I have an 8-year-old daughter. The key message of the entire trilogy is that we shouldn’t seek unattainable physical perfection, and I think it’s a very important message to share with girls in particular. As the trilogy unfolds, this theme is expanded beyond the human body to the wider world. Is perfection in general something that we should aim for? Shouldn’t imperfection be appreciated just as much? The title character in book 2, Starley’s Rust, is a mysterious British artist who makes paintings that seem to be in decay. His works are therefore beautiful but also imperfect, as is his own physical and psychological persona.
Please tell us about your latest release.
The Embodied trilogy special edition ebook collection is – no surprise! – a 3-in-1 ebook featuring all the novels in the Embodied trilogy: Silent Symmetry, Starley’s Rust and Diamond Splinters.
The Embodied trilogy mixes sci-fi and urban fantasy in the coming-of-age story of Manhattan prep school student Kari Marinner. Following her move to New York from Wisconsin with her mother, she notices some strange goings-on involving her mother’s employer, a secretive pseudo-religion called the Temple of Truth (ToT).
Kari soon falls in love with Cruz, a boy in her class from the wrong side of the tracks. But she’s also drawn toward another boy, Noon, who turns out to be an Embodied being from the Dark Universe. And she begins to wonder whether her emotions are real or being manipulated by the ToT. As the mystery deepens, Kari has to face down mythical beasts and trans-dimensional villains, travel to Paris with a charismatic British artist, and ultimately make a heart-wrenching choice between rescuing her mother or preventing aliens destroying the Earth.
Kari was described by one reader as “a total feminist badass” and the series as “YA for a fun, independent brainy chick.” I’d say that if you like soft sci-fi in the same vein as Doctor Who, alternative Earth histories, mythical beasts and alien freedom fighters, you’ll probably enjoy the Embodied trilogy.
This ebook collection is a special edition because it also includes deleted scenes (basically an alternate ending) from book 3, Diamond Splinters, as well as a brand new foreword with author insights and a fun quiz/treasure hunt. Oh yeah, and during this blog tour, the trilogy ebook is priced at 20% off ($7.99 instead of $9.99).   
Do you have a special formula for creating characters' names? Do you try to match a name with a certain meaning to attributes of the character or do you search for names popular in certain time periods or regions?
For regular human characters, no, I don’t have a formula. Obviously the name should match the character somehow. But in writing the Embodied trilogy I had an extra challenge when it came to creating the names of the Embodied characters. I can’t say why, though, because it would be a spoiler!
Was one of your characters more challenging to write than another?
Aliens are always challenging for the simple reason that they don’t share regular human behavior, emotions or motivations. The Embodied are from the Dark Universe, a place we can’t even imagine, and it made them especially difficult to write. But I love a challenge! One of the main characters, Cruz, is first-generation Puerto Rican. I wouldn’t say that writing him was a huge challenge, but more so than Kari, who has the same WASP-y cultural baggage as me.
Is there a character that you enjoyed writing more than any of the others?Yes, Starley, the title character in book 2. He’s British, and I got to let loose with him in a way that I couldn’t with the American characters. I simply had a lot of fun writing him – his energy and very different vocabulary and speech patterns compared to the others.

What is your favorite scene from the book? Could you share a little bit of it, without spoilers of course?
Gosh, that’s a tough one! That’s like asking me to pick my favorite child! The trilogy has scary scenes, action scenes, funny scenes, sad scenes… Tell you what – I’ll share the opening scene from book 1, Silent Symmetry. Each of the books starts with a flashback to Kari as a very young child, and the story starts when she learns that her father has died. It takes Kari until the end of the trilogy to discover what really happened that winter morning…
The second I walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. Not yet old enough to read, I could tell by the way Mom propped herself against the kitchen wall with the phone dangling loosely in her hand. My stomach turned inside-out.“Mrs. Marriner?” said the tinny voice in the phone. “Are you still there?”Mom put the receiver slowly back to her ear and groaned, “Uh-huh.” Her eyes were unfocused, her lips trembling.“Is there someone who can look after your daughter? You need to come downtown and identify the body.”“Uh-huh.”Mom’s eyes came back to life and flitted down to look at me with a mixture of sadness, pity and fear. She clenched her lips together and hung up the phone. I walked toward her, wary, wondering. Mom crouched down and pulled me close. “I love you, pumpkin,” she whispered.“I love you too, Mommy,” I answered, reassured by the familiar exchange.“Listen, I have to go run an errand. I... I’ll drop you off at Maddie’s, okay?”Normally the idea of a playdate would have made me jump for joy. But I knew something was wrong.“Go pick out a sweater.”“Okay.” And off I ran to my room, still shielded from the new reality.
* * * * *
That evening, Mom ordered pizza and we sat next to each other at the kitchen table as she explained to me that daddy wouldn’t be coming home any more. I can remember crying, but not really understanding. Mom cried too, even though she did her best to stay strong. She told me a little story about daddy driving to work and a big truck pushing his car off the bridge. Daddy flew and he was still flying. It was just an accident and daddy wishes he could come home, but he can’t, and he still loves me bigger than the universe and sends me kisses and hugs every morning and every night.The Wisconsin winter rain pounded on the kitchen window. We finished the pizza in silence. Something was wrong and there was nothing either of us could do to put it right.”

Did you find anything really interesting while researching this or another book?
Oh yes, I’m currently finding out all kinds of interesting things about Victorian Montreal while researching a new series in the gothic horror genre known as dreadpunk. For example, Montreal is an island in the Saint Lawrence river and there are several bridges connecting it to the South Shore. But the oldest one is also the crappiest one, and it’s called the Victoria Bridge. The thing is, when that bridge was opened in 1859 (by Queen Victoria’s eldest son, the Prince of Wales) it was the longest bridge in the entire world! It was such an engineering marvel that it was known popularly as The Eighth Wonder of the World! And at the foot of the Montreal side of the bridge is an enormous boulder called the Black Rock, which commemorates the thousands of Irish immigrants who died from typhus on ships coming from Britain and were buried in mass graves on that spot around a decade earlier. It was a fascinating place at a tumultuous period of its history. So many stories to tell, and they just leap out from the research a lot of the time!
What is the most interesting thing you have physically done for book related research purposes?
On a research trip to New York City for Silent Symmetry, I took the sane helicopter tour of Manhattan that Kari takes with her mother. That was my one and only time in a helicopter so it was pretty amazing!
With the book being part of a series, are there any character or story arcs, that readers jumping in somewhere other than the first book, need to be aware of? Can these books be read as standalones?
Yes, the books can be read as standalones, because each has its own story and a subtle recap of the overall context it’s taking place in. But there is an overarching storyline too, so if you want to know whether Kari rescues her mother and clears up the mystery of Noon’s involvement in her father’s death, then you’ll have to read the whole thing.
Do any of your characters have similar characteristics of yourself in them and what are they?
As I mentioned earlier, Starley is English, so I couldn’t help but include a bit of my personality in his character. However I based him on a mix of a couple of real-world celebrities. Can’t say who though!
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? How do you deal with it?
Rarely, but there are two ways to deal with it, both involving getting the hell away from a screen! I either go for a walk or take a nap (I guess depending on my energy level) and the effect is like magic.
Do you write in different genres?
I do – I’ve written an adult psychological thriller, The New Sense, as John B. Dutton, as well as a book of short stories called Life is Good that cover a range of genres. As mentioned above, I’m part-way through a gothic horror series in the dreadpunk genre. My next Embodied story is likely to be historical fantasy set in ancient Egypt.
Do you find it difficult to write in multiple genres?
No, I really enjoy it and find that it keeps me sharp.
When did you consider yourself a writer?
There were three different events that combined to make me add “Writer” to my email signature: Back in 1998 I wrote a stage play that was produced to some acclaim in Montreal, and then a couple of years later I received two grants to write a screenplay. All this time I was also writing short stories and my first novel, but what clinched it for me was taking the plunge to become a freelance marketing copywriter (ads, websites, stuff like that) in 2005 because that was the point when all my time was spent writing and all my income came from it.
What are your guilty pleasures in life?
Guinness. But I don’t even feel guilty about it!

Other than writing, what are some of your interests, hobbies or passions in life?
My British roots are showing when I say that I’m a huge soccer fan! I’m a very proud father, so looking after my kids is something I really take pleasure in. I genuinely love words and language, so I’ve always been keen on foreign languages and speak three pretty well, but I like to learn new ones.
What was the last amazing book you read?
The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin
Where is your favorite place to read? Do you have a cozy corner or special reading spot?
Bed.
Where can readers find you on the web?
I have a brand new website at www.jbdutton.com and my writing blog is at http://JohnBDutton.wordpress.com. You can also visit my professional Facebook page at: http://facebook.com/JohnBDuttonAuthoror see my pics on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/johnbdutton/



The Embodied TrilogySpecial Edition Ebook CollectionJB Dutton
Genre: YA Urban fantasy / science fiction
Date of Publication: July 11, 2016
ISBN: 9780991791842ASIN: B01H7U1QOE
Number of pages: 560Word Count: 183,094
Cover Artist: Alexandra Nereuta
Follow Kari's exciting adventure in in one special edition of all three ebooks, including bonus author insights, deleted scenes and a treasure hunt quiz..
The Embodied trilogy is an unusual web of adventure, romance, fantasy, and science fiction.
Prep school student Kari Marriner is swept up in a mystery that fast becomes a thrilling adventure when she discovers that mysterious aliens called the Embodied and their pseudo-religion, the Temple of Truth, been influencing her family’s life for decades. She soon finds herself battling dragons, unicorns, and nefarious angels on the streets of New York and in the catacombs of Paris, while having her emotions torn by a handsome alien and a jealous boyfriend. In a final showdown, she must travel to the creatures’ home in the dark universe and make a heart-wrenching choice: rescue her mother or save the Earth.
Special Tour Price $7.99

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Excerpt:
The first sensation was my stomach lurching and spinning. Then I seemed to be plunging dizzily while simultaneously zooming higher on some kind of impossible rollercoaster ride. And suddenly I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was separated from any kind of physical reality, like – oh… oh wow – like I was totally disembodied. I could sense things but not see them with my eyes. I had… a sort of mathematical awareness, as though I was plugged directly into the mainframe of a supercomputer the size of the universe, my mind swimming in pure information. Geometric shapes twinkled in and out of existence. Lines and points moved around in constant motion. It felt like a dream made of numbers… patterns and data combining and separating. Spirals within spirals and symmetries within symmetries.“Mom?” I called out. Or at least imagined myself calling out. Ripples in this web of information undulated in front of me when I said her name. “Mom? It’s me. It’s Kari.” More complex ripples floated away.Nothing.At that moment it occurred to me I had no way of getting back home.“Noon?” I said hopefully. Oh man – he’d told me how to use the sphere to reach the Dark Universe but now I was here and totally disembodied, I had no way of controlling my body to remove the sphere from my forehead.But before I could worry about this too much, the waves of information started to coalesce into more recognizable shapes. Pyramids and spheres, but not solid ones. They seemed to be made of… of symbols and binary code. That was it – they were like living equations! And then weirdly, in one of the pyramid shapes, I could recognize Noon. I felt as though I could see his mesmerizing face. Even though it was data or whatever, it was somehow him. The whole experience was kinda hypnotic. Was it even really happening? In one respect, I guess none of it was real, because I was literally seeing outside my universe.“Kari – you made it,” I heard him say.“Is that really you? Cilic didn’t kill you?”“Well, he killed Embodied me, but the Mihim brought my diamond pyramid back here.”This was super-bizarro. Now it was like the surrounding patterns had gone out of focus and I could clearly see the pyramid that was Noon’s true form.“Wait, let me do something,” he said. “I’m going to recreate a reality you’re familiar with to make this easier for you.”And the entire crazy churning data kaleidoscope sort of crystalized. I found myself standing in a towering hall with walls, floor, and ceiling made of what looked like sheets of sheer diamond. But in the depths of the diamond the same patterns I’d seen before were refracted in a million colors. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever encountered.



Silent SymmetryThe Embodied TrilogyBook OneJB Dutton
Genre: YA Urban fantasy / science fiction
Date of Publication: January, 2013
ISBN: 9780991791804ASIN: B00B0534UC
Number of pages: 194Word Count: 54,359
Cover Artist: Alexandra Nereuta
Book Description:
Kari Marriner’s earliest memory is her father’s death in a car crash back in small-town Wisconsin. Now, 12 years later, her mother has been hired by a pseudo-religious organization in Manhattan called the Temple of Truth (a.k.a. the ToT). At Chelsea Prep, Kari develops a crush on classmate Cruz. But when she realizes that Noon, another attractive guy at school, is involved with the ToT, her curiosity gets the better of her.
Kari stumbles upon a secret tunnel leading from her apartment to another in the building, where an ancient book holds images she can scarcely believe, and a cavernous room contains... something inexplicable. As Kari pieces together the incredible evidence, she discovers that the ToT is run by other-worldly beings called The Embodied who influence human behavior and have established a global long-term human breeding program. But why? And what is her role in all this?
Just as she starts wondering whether the love she feels for Cruz is genuine or if her emotions are being controlled by The Embodied, her mother is kidnapped and Kari has to figure out who is human, who is Embodied, and who she can count on to help rescue her mother.

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Excerpt:When I got in, the apartment was empty. I dumped my stuff and had a shower. I only realized as I was drying my hair that the apartment was really empty. Flash wasn’t there. The hairdryer was his nemesis, and the feud had being going on since he was traumatized by it as a kitten. But he couldn’t resist confronting it. Whenever I blow-dried my hair he would freak, hissing and arching his back, fur standing on end. But not this time.I turned off the hairdryer and called his name. Nothing. I made little squeaking noises with my lips, walking from room to room. Okay, this was bizarre. Where the eff could he be? There was only one sure-fire way of making him come running. I went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard where the cat food was stored. I shook the bag loudly. Silence.Wait, there wasn’t silence.There was a muffled voice coming from... coming from? I bent down to follow the sound. It was coming from the cupboard.The cupboard was a medium-sized space, maybe three feet high and 18 inches wide, and as I stuck my head inside to listen I felt like I was somehow entering another world. It was a gut feeling. You know, the kind you can’t explain but know you should trust. Some people call it instinct, but Mom explained to me once that the gut and the ancient lizard brain are linked. This is the “fight or flight” response that you feel when you’re threatened. It’s helped us survive over millions of years of evolution. And it’s rarely wrong.So what was different in there? What was my subconscious reacting to? The smell. Yes, that was it – something smelled different in there, and it wasn’t cat food. Now the muffled voice was louder, more distinctive. And I could tell that there were actually two voices, a man’s and a woman’s.I put my head in further and another part of my gut sent me a second message. The dimensions were wrong. The cupboard stretched back much further than it should have, back beyond the kitchen wall.I withdrew and stood up. I opened the cupboard above it and moved the cereal boxes to one side. This one was only a couple of feet deep. Looking back into the cat food cupboard, it was obvious that it went back at least a foot more.I stood with my hands on my hips for a moment, trying to process. And where on earth was Flash? I called his name again and listened. Suddenly the voices stopped. I bent down and put my head back in the cupboard. There was a stale smell, and... was that a draft? I reached inside and felt around. The cupboard was so deep it was hard to see the back clearly. I shuffled inside, resting on my forearms and prodding the back wall with my fingers. It moved slightly. I pushed harder, and with a groan it swung open at the bottom. It was hinged somehow at the top, like a large flap. I opened the flap wider and felt a distinct whoosh of cooler, damper air hit my face. I peered through the opening but it was pitch black inside. Then the voices started again, this time much clearer. I still couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was definitely a man and a younger woman talking.Pushing the flap open even wider I realized that I could fit through the opening. The other side of the flap felt like a tunnel or duct the same width and height as the cupboard. The trouble was, it was too dark in there to explore it. I needed a flashlight.Mom is nothing if not resourceful. There were always spare batteries in the house when I was a kid. A first aid kit that nurse-Mom whipped out at the first sign of fever. And a well-stocked emergency box in an easy-to-reach location.Five minutes later I was back in the cupboard, flashlight in hand.I wriggled inside on my hands and knees, then pushed the flap open again. I crawled through it, testing the strength of the surface beneath me as I went. The tunnel creaked a bit – I guess it was made of wood – but it seemed pretty firm. I advanced, the tunnel’s blackness stretching out in front of me. The flap swung shut and the dank air enveloped me.I stopped and listened, probing the tunnel with the flashlight. It seemed to go on forever. “Flash?” I whispered loudly. But all I could hear were the echoey voices. I carried on crawling forward. They seemed to be getting louder. The young woman’s higher-pitched voice was easier to make out than the man’s gravelly rumble.I thought I heard her say, “...control of it...here, I can get...here...make it...” Just snatches of sentences. The man said something in reply. When I was crawling, the noise my jeans made on the wood made it impossible to distinguish individual words in what the woman was saying. I shone the flashlight ahead of me. Was that a turn in the tunnel? As I got nearer, I could tell that there was a junction to the left in the tunnel up ahead.I reached the bend and looked around it, the flashlight beam sweeping the tunnel walls. There was another long stretch that ended in...? A bend or a drop? “Flash?” I whispered again and listened. Now both voices were more distinct. They were definitely coming from further along the tunnel.“...can’t stop them,” said the man.“That’s just it,” answered the woman. Then silence.I crawled onward, accompanied only by the swoosh and scrape of my jeans and shoes. Half a minute later I reached the end of this stretch of tunnel. Now there was a turn to the right, and a section that went upward. I raised my head to look up this chute. For a second my brain made a connection. That was it – garbage chutes! These big old buildings were usually equipped with them. Maybe that was what this was. But why did the tunnels go sideways? No, it made no sense.I knelt at the junction, searching for an explanation. Then, before I knew what was happening, I screamed. Something had dropped from the chute and landed in front of me. Something alive. I scrambled backward, heart in mouth, the flashlight making crazy-ass shadows on the tunnel walls.In seconds I was back at the first turn, but as I tried to crawl around it, one of the belt loops on my jeans snagged on a nail. I tried to pull it off, frantic. I glanced back down the tunnel and saw a movement. It was coming toward me. It was... Flash.My limbs sagged, I stopped struggling, and the loop unhooked from the nail. The cat meowed and trotted up to me. Laughing in relief, I petted him. “You... you... I love you!” I said, happy to have found him. And happy that he wasn’t a giant rat. Or something worse that the depths of my imagination had conjured up in my state of panic. He purred and snuggled against my nose. “Kari.”I froze.It was the young woman’s voice. Distant, but distinct. I strained my ears to hear more but I was already far from the source of the sound, and Flash’s purring obscured the rest of the words. But I know I heard it. I know I heard my name.“Kari.”


Starley’s RustThe Embodied TrilogyBook TwoJB Dutton
Genre: YA Urban fantasy / science fiction
Date of Publication: January 2015,second edition April 2016
ISBN: 9781311725493ASIN: B00ONKYNOC
Number of pages: 206Word Count: 60,934
Cover Artist: Alexandra Nereuta
Book Description:
Six months ago, Kari Marriner’s life was torn apart. Now turned 17, she’s looking for answers in her rural Wisconsin hometown. But just as the Embodied seemed to have vanished, there’s a new, more terrifying visitor from the Dark Universe.
Back in Manhattan, a charismatic English artist named Starley convinces Kari he can find her missing mother if she flies to Paris with him. He also shares an incredible secret from the dawn of mankind. But Starley is not who he seems. Before she knows it, Kari finds herself standing in front of the Mona Lisa with him, yelling out, “He’s got a bomb!”
And that’s when things go totally insane. The Rebel Embodied’s henchman, Cilic, returns to Earth on a deadly mission. The body of Kari’s treacherous friend Aranara is washed up on the banks of the Hudson. But is she really dead? In the Paris catacombs, Kari and Starley are hunted by a nightmarish mythical creature that’s all too real.
A family mystery, an exiled race, freakish beasts, jealousy, love… and death. Kari has to face them all in this fast-paced fantasy thriller.
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Excerpt:
The sun was setting behind the buildings. A big barn with half the roof missing. A grain silo. A couple of smaller shed-type buildings, one with no door, the other with the door hanging off its hinges. And a farmhouse. Windows shattered. Front door gawping at me. I gulped and sent an ILY back to Cruz. He liked those.Then I had the strangest feeling. Like a disruption in the atmosphere, but also in my mind. The air changed somehow, and I heard a rumbling of distant thunder. I could have sworn that the fading daylight got brighter for a few seconds. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. It made me stop moving. Then reality seemed to snap back to normal. I kept going toward the farmhouse.I saw something move.The setting sun had backlit the barn so it was hard to be sure what it was. A horse, I think. A big, black stallion moving around in the barn.My mind filled in the blanks. Probably a horse that had escaped from a neighboring farm and made a new home for itself here. Okay, cool. No mystery. Maddie must have seen it and her mind made it fit the legend.I lay Maddie’s bike down in the grass, careful not to make a sound. I tiptoed toward the barn, not wanting to startle it. I turned on the flashlight app on my phone. Clouds were gathering, the light was fading. More distant thunder. I just needed to find it, take a photo and show Maddie. Her grandfather would know what to do, how to capture it safely and find its owner. I entered the barn, still creeping quietly. Ew. It certainly smelled like a barn. There was hay strewn around on the ground. My phone flashlight was practically useless. It illuminated a patch, like, five feet in front of me. In the dim light, I could make out a row of stalls on each side and a hayloft up ahead with a ladder propped against it.Now I thought about it, the smell was kinda weird. I grew up around here and although I’d never spent any time on a farm, I sensed that there was some kind of extra, non-farm smell here. Hard to identify. But yucky and familiar all the same.Was that an animal noise in one of the stalls on the left? Or just the wind blowing through the holes in the walls? I crept toward the stall very, very carefully. My hand holding the phone was shaking. Come on, Kari. Get a grip. The sides of the stalls weren’t high enough to conceal a horse. Unless it was lying down in the hay, of course.I reached the stall where I thought I’d heard the noise. I waited a second, held my breath, then stepped in front of the stall’s open gate. It was empty. And that’s when the hairs stood up on the back of my neck again. But this time there was another, all-too-familiar feeling along with it.It was the feeling I had when Noon was in my head. Yet not exactly the same. This was unpleasant, even disturbing, and somehow stronger.I spun around. In the barn doorway stood the black stallion. Protruding from its forehead was a long, tapered horn. It really was a unicorn. It raised its head and my mind felt like a heavy blanket had been draped over it. It eyed me purposefully. My irrational fear as a little girl came flooding back, multiplied by a million. I almost peed my pants. Was this a bad dream? Maybe I would wake up surrounded by My Little Pony’s in my 8-year-old’s bedroom?If only…The unicorn took a step forward. The feeling in my head got even stronger and now I could swear that I heard the name Noon repeating over and over. Not his voice, just his name. Was the unicorn Embodied? I didn’t get a chance to wonder about this because now the feeling in my head was becoming worse… painful. I was convinced that my mind was being probed by this astonishing creature. In the space of a few seconds, the pain increased and so did the repetition of the name Noon until it was so excruciating that I felt like screaming. I put my hands to my temples and opened my mouth. As I was about to close my eyes, I saw the unicorn start to charge toward me.Despite the pain, I managed to fling myself to one side and into the empty stall just before it reached me. It galloped past and I heard it stop. My head was still throbbing. I staggered to my feet, one fist still pressed to my temple. Maybe I could make a break for it.The unicorn appeared in front of me, blocking the stall entrance. I was totally trapped. I looked around in desperation. A broken wooden handle was poking out from a pile of hay in one corner. I grabbed it and pulled out a pitchfork. The unicorn advanced into the stall, its head lowered so that its horn was aimed directly at my head. The pain coursed through my brain like a river of electricity.I swung the pitchfork at the unicorn’s head. I missed, but it backed up, startled. I swung again. It made a snuffling sound and stepped back further.“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I screamed.The unicorn cocked its head to one side like it was listening to me. The pain in my brain diminished.I swung again and shouted the same thing.The unicorn drew itself up to its full height and then something even more incredible happened. It raised its tail. But this was no stallion’s tail. It was like a huge peacock tail, shimmering with shades of black, gray, and silver. The tail fanned out, probably ten feet wide, and despite the pain in my head, I lowered the pitchfork, just standing there in awe. What was this being? It seemed to possess incredible power and at the same time be unimaginably beautiful. In fact, it was all the more terrifying because it was so beautiful.



Diamond SplintersThe Embodied TrilogyBook ThreeJB Dutton
Genre: YA Urban fantasy / science fiction
Date of Publication: May, 2016
ISBN: 9780991791835ASIN: B01DFUUIA8
Number of pages: 212Word Count: 62,257
Cover Artist: Alexandra Nereuta
Book Description:
Prep school senior Kari Marriner has a heart-wrenching choice to make: rescue her mother or prevent aliens destroying the Earth.
Having faced down mythical beasts and trans-dimensional villains, Kari has finally unraveled the mystery of the cult-like Temple of Truth and found the diamond sphere that can free her mother from the evil clutches of the Thoth high priests. But to find out how to use the sphere, Kari must team up with the one person she can never trust: Aranara, the treacherous sister of her missing soulmate Noon.
When a submarine trip to the bottom of the Hudson River ends in death and disaster, Kari is scarred, both emotionally and physically. She wants to run and hide but digs deep and finds new sources of inner strength. As the storm of the century hits New York, a child’s life hangs in the balance and Kari gambles everything in a final confrontation with the genocidal Thoth.
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Excerpt: Aranara pushed at the hatch. Nothing happened. Whether it was the water pressure or some safety mechanism I don’t know, but she stopped trying and went back to the control panel. The sub reversed. I looked through the transparent bottom and saw Noon’s pyramid coming back into view. As soon as it was directly beneath us, she climbed onto her chair and aimed the gun at the globe-shaped acrylic window. With a surge of terror, I realized what she was about to do.“Nooooo!” I screamed as she fired. I was kneeling on the floor of the cabin beside Mangold’s body. I automatically shielded my face. The bullet ricocheted. The dome had cracked instead of shattering. She shot twice more, not even flinching from the flying bullets. The crack spread. Water started to spray in. I reached up to try to stop her, but she held me off with one hand while she fired again with the other.The window bulged inward. Then it burst. Water poured in and I screamed again, clawing at her uselessly as she pulled away enough acrylic to make an opening big enough to swim through. The water gushed like a torrent. She got hold of the sides of the hole she’d made and somehow managed to pulled herself out. The sub listed to one side and my reality shifted. Everything felt like a dream. I was in a reversed fishbowl. The air was inside and the water was outside, with Aranara swimming in it, downward toward Noon’s pyramid on the riverbed. The water was already up to my knees. There was nothing I could do. This was where I was going to die.Wait – maybe one thing! I had shut Noon out. Maybe he could do something. I closed my eyes and calmed myself as best I could. “Tell Aranara to help me. I’m going to drown.”I heard nothing. The water was up to my waist now. Spray. Smell. Sickening fear. I looked down but now it was impossible to see where Aranara was underneath the sub because of the river water rushing into the cabin. Did she already have the pyramid? Was she blocking Noon’s communication with me somehow? The water reached my chest. The dreamlike state disappeared. New panic set in. There was only one chance. Once no more water was flowing into the opening that Aranara had made, I could try swimming out through it. But we were seventy feet below the surface. Could I hold my breath long enough? I saw something move at my feet and looked down. I let out a huge scream as Mangold’s head floated up next to mine. Oh god, oh god. The water was up to my neck. I stood on the chair. My head was touching the top of the dome. The water was now level with the opening. I had to fill my lungs with as much oxygen as I possibly could from the few inches that were trapped at the top of the cabin. I breathed deeply. One, two, three deep breaths. The water lapped at my chin. Four. I held my breath.I pushed off the chair toward the opening. It was barely wide enough. But before I could reach it, the submarine pitched downward. The hatch hit me in the back. The opening was further away than before, below me now. I swam toward it. The acrylic was at least an inch thick. I caught hold of the edge of the opening with one hand and pulled myself forward. As my head went through, the submarine lurched to one side. A searing pain in my cheek. I held on tight. Now I could use both hands to pull myself through. Then I was out. My lungs were already starting to hurt. Daylight was so far away up above. Suddenly an arm circled my waist. It was Aranara. She didn’t even look at me, just kicked with both legs, pulling me away from the listing sub. I felt myself getting dizzy as we rose faster than a normal person would be able to. The pressure was enormous. The air was forced out of my lungs. I passed out.



About the Author:
After graduating from film school in London, England, JB Dutton emigrated to Montreal in 1987, where he still lives with his two young children and their even younger goldfish. He spent over a decade as a music TV director before moving into the advertising industry as an award-winning copywriter for clients such as Cirque du Soleil. JB Dutton has written novels, short stories, blogs, screenplays and a stage play. He also writes adult fiction under the name John B. Dutton.
Website: www.jbdutton.com

Blog: http://JohnBDutton.wordpress.com
Goodreads author page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6949179.J_B_Dutton   
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Cover Reveal Cheat by Gillian Zane

Cheat
Gillian Zane

Series: Karma, Inc.


Genre: Fantasy, Urban Fantasy
About the Book:
Karma’s a bitch…and her name’s Cassie. 
Working for Karma Incorporated might sound like the best job in the world, but there’s one really big catch: you’ve got to die to get it. Cassandra Mercier died at the ripe old age of twenty-one and is now gainfully employed by the Afterlife Corporation as a Karma operative. Her job duties include manifesting bad karma on unsuspecting victims. 
Two months into her internship Cassie is promoted and given her first solo case. His name is Bishop and he is a cheat.  He needs some bad karma, and Cassie’s the right girl for the job.
Inflicting a bit of payback on this cheat should be easy for Cassie, so she gets permission from her boss to do a little investigating on her own time. Investigating into her living life, the one she can’t seem to remember. The only problem, she is forbidden from doing the digging herself. Afterlife Corporation rule. She can hire someone to look into it for her, though, and that someone turns out to be Drake Greco. She regrets her decision the moment she walks into his office… 

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About the Author:
Gillian Zane is the author of the NOLA Zombie series. Zane is the pen name of a prominent blogger in the publishing industry, which will remain a mystery unless you Google it. Since she can remember her goal has been to become Master of the Universe and has decided to focus first on the literary world. Things are progressing nicely. 
Zane has been a freelance writer for the last ten years and has published a few non-fiction works, none of which was very exciting. Zombies are much more exciting and a way for her to combine her two current obsessions, hot boys with guns and Doomsday Prepping. When she isn't stockpiling MREs (Meal's Ready to Eat) or researching how to build a cistern on a budget, she's taking care of her little family and exploring the city that she loves, New Orleans. You can find Gillian Zane on twitter @GillianZane. 
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